Magician's Heir

by D Bruce Cotton

  “Please, take a seat.” The soft voice rattled with age. After a nod from Aristomus, Adam took the left chair. The mage sat to his right.

  The center figure pulled back his cowl to reveal a speckled pate covered with thin, white hair. Watery brown eyes peered from a careworn face, the skin seamed and paper-thin. “I bid you welcome, Adam Gray. I am Master Serton, High Mage by choice of the Council.” Serton raised a slender, liver-spotted hand and gestured to his left. “With me are Masters Coyne, Darston, Pelle, and Rosner.” Each mage pulled back his cowl in order. “To my right are Masters Sindar, Reavous, Bartun and Alecia.”

  Adam gasped. The hood pulled back from the last mage revealed a beautiful woman. Thick reddish-brown hair framed a face of smooth alabaster. Soft auburn eyes overlooked a pert nose sprinkled with freckles. Though she seemed young, she radiated keen intelligence which made her place among the older mages seem somehow right. Her infectious smile made Adam grin in return.

  Wait, did he say...? Adam glanced over at Aristomus. The older mage beamed with pride, mouthing the words, “My daughter.”

  Time sped by in a blur. Aristomus retold the dubious tale of Adam’s appearance in Tantris. His arrival at Lakeshore, the journey to Codtown and the subsequent attacks drew sharp intakes of breath as the mages murmured among themselves. Serton remained quiet save for some pointed questions directed at Adam. It appeared he’d heard much of the tale already.

  Despite the situation and his earlier nerves, Adam’s attention suffered. He stole several furtive glances at Aristomus’ daughter and only after the mage nudged him—“Pay attention, Adam! Are you falling asleep?”—did he try to remain attentive.

  The questions ended at last. Serton glanced at each of the mages in turn before clearing his throat to address Adam. “It seems we have much to discuss. Adam Gray, I ask that you wait in the outer room. Master Aristomus, please remain. More questions may arise during our discussions.”

  Adam bowed his head in acquiescence—and risked another glance at Alecia from downturned eyes—then rose and left the room. Outside, a guard directed him to a small settee to wait. As he rested, he thought more about Alecia than his own fate. Closing his eyes, he pictured her in his mind: smooth white skin, eyes sparkling with intelligence, full lips tinted a delicate shade of pink. He wondered what it would be like to...

  The daydream evaporated as a guard cleared his throat. “They are ready for you.”

  Adam rose, eager to head back to the Council chamber. But to his dismay, everyone save Aristomus and Serton had left.

  After he took his seat once again, Serton fixed him with a watery stare lasting several moments. Adam squirmed in his chair, waiting.

  “It is the Council’s decision to drop all charges against you,” the old mage said at last. “The testimony of Master Aristomus and your own deeds during the attack on Codtown did much to help us arrive at this conclusion.”

  The High Mage sat forward, hands clasped with forefingers extended to tap against his chin. “It is obvious the Dark Mage wishes you dead. What is not so clear is why. Until we can determine the answer, you will remain here, under the Council’s protection.”

  “Protection?” sputtered Adam. “I’ve almost died three times now, the last time in this very building! What makes you think you can protect me?”

  Aristomus placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, his grip firm to warn against such outbursts. But if Serton took any offense, he hid it well. “You will take quarters at the Academy of Magic. Surrounded by mages, I deem it the safest location. And it will provide us the opportunity to learn more of your talents. If Master Aristomus has not overstated your abilities, you may prove a very strong mage indeed.”

  Mention of the Academy of Magic quieted Adam’s protests. It didn’t make him feel any safer, but he knew Alecia taught there, based on what Aristomus told him. Adam felt happy to go along with anything that might provide an opportunity to see the beautiful young woman again.

  Serton nodded at Adam’s silence. “With that decided, we need now discuss your visions.”

  Adam groaned. He’d forgotten Serton had the ability of precognition. And as he thought back, he realized Aristomus hadn’t mentioned his visions before the Council.

  Aristomus bore a frown of disapproval as he nodded at Adam. “I mislike keeping such information from the rest of the Council. Such lack of faith ill befits those dedicated to opposing our enemy. However,” he held up his hand to forestall the High Mage’s rebuke, “I accede to the wishes of Master Serton. This ability is, perhaps, one best not divulged to all.”

  “I’m not sure how much more I can tell,” Adam protested. “I only had the visions once, right before I woke up in Tantris. And they happened so fast...”

  Serton cut him off. “Master Aristomus told me of these visions, but I would have you speak of them yourself. Perhaps I can discern more of import if I hear them direct. Tell me in your own words and leave out no detail, no matter how insignificant it might appear.”

  Adam described the details of his visions over the next hour—the Unsouled woman in the Great Forest, the villagers of Codtown as they fled their homes’ destruction, the dirt-covered graves marking the battle’s aftermath. Serton’s questions seemed endless. Picking up on the finest detail, he demanded even more specifics. He rephrased his questions to see if Adam’s answers varied then jumped back and forth between the visions to keep him off balance. By the time he seemed satisfied, Adam felt drained.

  But the High Mage hadn’t finished with him yet. “Now,” continued Serton, “you will tell me of the other visions—those which have not yet come to be.”

  Adam shivered, wanting to forget. But those visions remained as fresh in his mind as the first time he experienced them. Aristomus drew closer, fascinated. He’d never thought to ask Adam about any unfulfilled visions.

  “Well...” Adam started. Then he hesitated. “Wait a minute. How do you know about my other visions? I didn’t say anything about them.”

  “Have you forgotten I, too, share this gift?” answered the old mage.

  Adam gave a nervous nod and continued, “I first saw an old man. I couldn’t see his face, but I think he might be a mage because he held a staff. But the staff...” Adam faltered, glancing at both men. “It looked like some kind of corroded metal.”

  Both mages recoiled, the color draining from their faces. They looked at each other, eyes wide. Aristomus spoke first.

  “By the Power! Could it be...?”

  “Aye,” replied Serton. “It must be.” The old mage pulled a handkerchief from an inner pocket and wiped his damp brow. “Though there seemed little doubt, this is yet another confirmation of our worst fears. The Dark Mage has returned.”

  “But if Adam saw the Dark Mage,” murmured Aristomus, “it may be he plans to take a more direct hand in events. Thus far, he has worked only through intermediaries—the Dread, Unsouled and whatever foul creatures Marisa and Meloch might be.”

  “Aye, you are right,” Serton mumbled. Then he looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Should he risk himself by coming into the open, perhaps it will afford us an opportunity.”

  A momentary silence fell on the three men, each distracted by his own thoughts. After a few moments, Adam cleared his throat and continued, “In the second vision, I saw a man. At least I think he was a man. He looked strange. He had gray skin, and it seemed... rough and uneven. It... well he almost looked like a big, stone sculpture.” Adam gave each of the mages a furtive look, expecting them to laugh at his narrative. When they remained silent, he took a deep breath and plunged on, “But then he moved, walking toward me and I knew he lived, but... well I’ve never seen a man so tall. He must’ve been twice my own height.”

  Aristomus nodded to himself and replied, “I believe you may have seen a giant, Adam. We have had no contact with the giants for centuries, yet there is no mistaking your description.” He cast a quick glance at Serton.

  “Aye,” mused the old mage as he tapped
his chin once more. “I believe we can take it as good news. Since your earlier visions came true, we can hope this one will, too.” He paused a moment, as though hesitant to reveal too much, then continued.

  “We sent a delegation to the giants, hoping to enlist their aid against the Dark Mage. They left at mid-summer, nigh on three months ago. It is a long journey, fraught with many hazards. But still, I deem we should have received word long before now.

  “After lengthy debate, the Council agreed to send a second delegation. They left a fortnight ago. We have hopes this latter mission will succeed where the first has failed, but we can do naught now but wait. If your vision is true, it would appear the giants will have a part to play again. But how? And when? There are many questions in need of answering.”

  At Serton’s prodding, Adam continued to describe his visions. Both mages seemed puzzled by Adam’s account of the figure hanging from a tree, but both agreed the bolts of lightning under an open sky could only be from a mage.

  “That’s it,” Adam said, exhausted. “I don’t remember anything else.”

  “Very well,” replied Serton. “Master Aristomus will escort you to the Academy of Magic. If I am not mistaken, he desires to get there soon at any rate.” Serton gave Aristomus a warm smile, the first pleasant emotion Adam had seen from the High Mage. “And I believe he also has a gift for you, Adam Gray. While your abilities do not entitle you the rank of Master, I believe it is safe to name you Apprentice.”

  Adam followed Aristomus’ lead as he rose and gave a short bow. The doors had just shut behind them when he burst out, “Apprentice? Does he mean...”

  “Aye, Apprentice Gray,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “While you will be far older than the other students at the Academy of Magic, the High Mage refuses to let your abilities go to waste. Those with an aptitude for the Power are rare.”

  “And this gift he mentioned?”

  “All in good time, my young friend,” the mage said with a wink. “All in good time.”

  Chapter 14, Academy of Magic

  The two made their way back through the castle and into the courtyard to find the sun already near the end of its journey west. It surprised Adam so much of the day had already passed. It also served as a reminder he hadn’t eaten all day. Stomach rumbling in protest, he regretted the undisturbed breakfast he’d left behind that morning.

  Outside, a small carriage awaited and after a short ride they arrived at the Academy of Magic. It had a large campus with wide, sweeping lawns gone brown with the approach of winter. Dozens of dark red stone buildings dotted the campus. The structures had high arching windows between buttressed supports, crenelated roofs topped by towering spires, and recessed entrances guarded by stone gargoyles carved into the lintels.

  A few young people, all dressed in light gray robes, strolled the campus. The youngest seemed no older than ten while others appeared in their mid-to-late teens. A few, and only the oldest, carried metal-shod staffs like the one Aristomus held. Students, Adam guessed. And, as Aristomus indicated earlier, Adam had several years on the oldest of them.

  The carriage pulled up to the entrance of the largest building, a massive structure on par with Eddingford Castle. This, Aristomus explained, served as the main administration building, housing many of the Academy’s instructors. The two entered the old structure and took a set of creaky, wooden stairs to the second floor. Turning down a hallway, they came to a stout, wooden door. Mounted to the lintel, he saw a small plaque inscribed with a simple, but elegant script. As they drew closer, Adam made out the inscription: Master Alecia, Department of Xenology.

  Sudden sweat beaded Adam’s forehead. “Uh, we’re visiting your, uh, daughter?”

  Aristomus gave him a strange look. “Aye. This trip is my first chance to visit Alecia in several years. And you will need someone to get you settled in here.”

  Adam’s anxiety mounted. He’d grown used to Aristomus and didn’t like the thought of being left with strangers, even one as beautiful as the mage’s daughter. “You’re going somewhere?” he blurted. “I thought you’d be here for at least a while. Won’t your daughter want to spend time with you?”

  Aristomus gave the door a quiet knock. “The Council has given me an important mission—one I dare not refuse. Should the second mission to the giants fail...” Seeing the young apprentice’s uneasiness, he continued, “Oh, do not worry, Adam. It will be another month, perhaps two, before we receive word of contact with the giants. I...”

  The mage fell silent as the door opened. Alecia stood there in a simple robe of dark green, face lit with a radiant smile. Adam’s mouth dropped open, his mind blank. Then Aristomus stepped forward and engulfed her in a tight embrace.

  “Ah, daughter! It has been so long!”

  “Now, now, father! We saw each other in the Council chambers not more than a few hours back,” she replied, her voice muffled by the old mage’s robe.

  “Ha!” he laughed. “There we must abide by the protocols of the Council. High Mage Serton frowns on hugs so.” He held her out at arms’ length. “By the Power, you grow more beautiful each time I see you! I have missed you.”

  “And I you, father. But let us remember our manners. You have brought me a new student, I see.” She turned and acknowledged Adam with a slight bow of her head. “Greetings, Apprentice Gray.”

  Adam swallowed with difficulty. “I... um... I mean... It’s a pleasure to meet you, too... um, ma’am.” He felt his face burn with embarrassment. “Please, just... just call me Adam.”

  Alecia gave him a warm smile, “Adam it shall be, then, at least under informal conditions such as these. Please, come in, both of you.”

  She turned and walked to a seat behind a massive wooden desk, its surface covered with stacks of heavy books and a host of strange objects. Adam noticed intact skeletons of several small, unrecognizable creatures. But a long, yellowed bone caught his immediate attention. Old and thick with large, heavy knobs at both ends, the bone looked quite heavy. And it must be three feet long, he thought. What kind of creature...

  A flash of movement diverted his attention from the massive bone. A large glass jar sat back on one corner of the desk. Inside, something green wriggled. At first, he assumed the jar held some sort of lizard. But as he leaned forward for a closer look, he realized a decomposing hand moved inside the container!

  Adam recoiled. “Is... is that what I think it is?” he gasped.

  Aristomus answered, “Aye, Adam. It is a hand, taken from the body of an Unsouled.”

  Almost more surprised by the mage’s nonchalance, Adam asked, “But it doesn’t seem a little... creepy to you?”

  “I should hope not,” replied Alecia. “I am, after all, in charge of the Department of Xenology.”

  At Adam’s puzzled expression, Aristomus explained, “Xenology is the study of other races. Though once human, the Unsouled undergo a transformation making them human no longer. In essence, they become another species altogether. It is only natural Alecia would have an interest.”

  “Aye, someone must study them, I suppose,” frowned Alecia. “As horrible and disgusting as they are, it is the only way to discover their weaknesses. But my true interest,” she said with a faraway look, “lies in the study of giants.”

  “Giants?” Adam looked over at Aristomus. “But I thought you said no one had seen the giants in centuries.”

  “And you assume them a mere fable?” snorted Alecia. She reached down and snatched the huge bone from the desk. For a moment, Adam thought she might club him with it. Instead, she waved it under his nose. “Does this look like a fable? This is the femur from a giant who lived eight centuries ago. Did you know you can calculate a person’s height by the length of the femur? It means this bone came from someone about 12 feet tall. I would call that,” she said, as the bone hit her desk with a thud, “evidence enough to douse any possibility of a fable!”

  “Alecia!” chided Aristomus. “Please remember Adam is a stranger here. I am sure h
e meant no offense.”

  “No. Of course not.” Adam held his hands out in appeasement. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Alecia sat back down with a deep sigh. “No. It is I who must apologize, Adam. With the giants gone these many centuries, most hold the same opinion—they were a tall race which grew taller in our imaginations as the years passed.” She reached down and ran her fingers over the smooth length of bone. “But the evidence is so compelling... I hope someday to journey to the Dark Mountains and prove their existence to the rest of the world.”

  Aristomus cleared his throat. “There is, my dear, another reason for my visit.” He explained Adam’s visions and Serton’s belief one of them included a giant. “As a member of the Council, you already know of the two missions sent to enlist the aid of the giants. The first has disappeared. If the second should fail...” he hesitated. “High Mage Serton has asked me to lead the third attempt.”

  Alecia’s eyes widened and her hands shook with excitement. When she could hold back no longer, she blurted, “Father! I must go as well! No one has studied the giants more than I. My help would be immeasurable...”

  “And so the second reason for my visit,” interrupted the mage. “I must tell you I argued against this.” He waved his hand as Alecia tried to interject. “No, please listen. Such a journey would not be easy in the best of times. But with the return of the Dark Mage and his armies...” He sighed. “We would face unimaginable danger, Alecia. I have already lost your mother. I cannot bear...” His voice trailed off.

  Alecia hurried around the desk and knelt beside her father. Eyes heavy with tears, she placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “I understand, father. Do not worry so. We do not even know if the journey will prove necessary.”

  Both touched and embarrassed by the exchange, Adam asked, “Um, what about me?”

  Both mages turned. By their expressions, it seemed obvious they’d forgotten him. “By Serton’s command,” answered Aristomus, “you will remain here. You must learn to control your abilities and the Academy of Magic is best suited to help.” The old mage left his chair and retrieved something from the corner of the room. “Which reminds me,” he said, as he handed over Adam’s wooden staff. The ends now had metal bands attached; each with intricate runes carved into the surface. “Your gift.”