Table of Contents
Shadows and Embers
Copyright
Part One: The Rise and Fall
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Part Two: Change of Fate
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Acknowledgments
Shadows and Embers
book two of the Magicians series
Lindsey Richardson
Second edition
Copyright © 2017 by Lindsey Richardson
Printed in the United States of America.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended solely to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Cover design by Lori Follett of Wicked Book Covers
Formatting by Allyson Gottlieb of Athena Interior Book Design
“Love makes you see a place differently, just as you hold differently an object that belongs to someone you love. If you know one landscape well, you will look at other landscapes differently. And if you learn to love one place, sometimes you can also learn to love another.”
—Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
—Maya Angelou, Still I rise
Part One
The Rise and Fall
From the girl who lost,
From the angel who fell,
To the boy who dared to challenge destiny.
This is the story Celestria was never told
Of good men with cold hearts,
Of how it all began at the very start.
This is the story as it has never been told before.
Prologue
I promised to protect Celestria, though I was not aware of what I would be protecting her from. Her white dress was torn and filthy from the magicians she already fought, and each time I looked up again she was entering into another fight. Sparks of magic flew in every direction, I was knocked down more times than I was able to stand up, but any spare second I gained was one I could risk searching for a sign of Celestria.
Where are you, Alaire? I thought as I took a dagger from a dead corpse. Death was something Esmour had trained us for, something I thought I was insensitive to, but the bodies were piling up. No one was prepared for a war that would determine their very existence.
Crouching down, I inched toward another body in hope that I might scavenge something useful. However, I heard a cry nearby and when I looked up Celestria had fallen to the ground. The man attacking her held his sword high above her head, threatening to drop it down on her, and without any plan I rushed over to where they were. There was blood covering the field, but I ignored it for the time being and focused on my opponent. His eyes looked weary even as he swung at me and I jumped back in time to dodge it. Casting a spell, I aimed shards of ice at his chest. Several impacted, but then he performed a counter spell and fled. Though I considered chasing after him, I was aware Celestria might need my attention. There were healers out on the field for both the White and Dark magicians, and those who were quick and lucky could sometimes flee from battle and be healed.
“Léal?”
I turned around and knelt beside her, though I kept an eye on our surroundings. We were in no position for a surprise attack, but in war nothing is meant to be fair.
“How do you feel?” I asked, leaning in closer to her.
“Like I might die,” she mumbled.
Glancing down, I saw the blood stain soaking her dress. Images of other women dying at my hands flooded my mind, but I shook my head violently and tried to refocus. No one could take her from me today; none of them would have the satisfaction of killing another person in my life.
“You were stabbed? We need to find Gavril; he can fix you up before it gets worse,” I said. When I looked out at the field again, though, my heart sunk. There were hundreds of magicians battling against one another, and finding a healer in the disaster would be nearly impossible. Hoping to conceal my concerns, I lifted up Celestria and began to carry her across the field. I walked cautiously around corpses and stayed as distant as possible from any magician. Even so, I noticed there was someone running toward us, but the closer the man got I was able to recognize him. It was Kerrich, one of the foreseers who had agreed to fight with us. I didn’t bother slowing down for him, seeing as this was a battle zone and no one was waiting for anyone.
“I’ve got your back,” he panted as he reached us. For a foreseer he impressed us with his skills as an archer. He circled around me with a bow at the ready.
Damn him; he should be here covering me and taking care of Celestria. I thought, wondering what had gone through Alaire’s head to leave us.
Gazing down at Celestria, I thought about the first time we had met. We had been younger than, and those had been the days when innocence filled her eyes. Her long hair blew in the wind, and more than anything I wished to take her back to her hometown. I wished to take her back before I ever laid eyes on her because I had been right after all. She didn’t know the shadows that were in this world, and the more she traveled in the darkness with them the more the shadows grew on her. They grew inside of us, occupying spaces of our heart that at one time were pure, and they grew all around us, taking away the sunlight we once knew. Despite all of it, Celestria had the slightest of a smile on her face. Even though the blood hadn’t stopped and I was entirely lost as to where to look for Gavril, she looked up at me with hope.
“I’m sorry that I am the one carrying you out of this; I know you wanted it to be him,” I said, peering ahead to see that there were tents in the near distance.
She chuckled. “You’ve always carried me away from trouble. I would not have it any other way. You’re a good man, Léal; it’s time you see that for yourself.”
A good man who lets his friends go to war, a good man who lost his best friend, and a good man who could do nothing to save the people he loved. Oh yes, I was a good man. Thinking twice, I doubted Celestria had ever known enough men in her life to realize the man carrying her was no hero.
Chapter One
Sins of Yesterday
1569; Neutadt, Transylvania
We were at war with the world.
Or at least it seemed that way when there was magic hitting us from every angle. I hid behind a large rock and hoped that it would conceal my position. For a moment I let the fear take over my brain. There were five of them against three of us; we would surely die if their attacks continued to be this brutal.
Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts. I could think about death when Malin and Alaire were out on the battlefield. Though there was a stinging ache in the side of my chest, I stood up and held out my hand. With the whisper of one word, I watched as fine pieces of ice flew through the air and hit the opponent closest to me. Ducking behind the rock again, I caught my breath for a second. Slowly, I crawled out from my hiding place to face the man again.
Bad idea.
I was hit with a strong force of wind and fell over. When I pushed myself back up, someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me back to the rock. I tried to reach for the dagger hidden in my sleeve, but the tough pair of arms released me. Turning my head, I saw it was none other than Malin.
“I might have killed you for acting like that!” I whispered.
He chuckled. “Shut your trap; you couldn’t have killed me any easier than the buffoons we’re fighting.”
I glanced around. There were chants being shouted and swords being thrown nearby, which could only mean one thing: Alaire was out there alone.
Grabbing Malin’s gray tunic, I cried, “You left Alaire?!”
He pushed away my hand with his big fingers. Even while we were crouched down he managed to be much bigger than me. He was a muscular man and physically stronger than anyone I knew.
“I had to save you first! Alaire isn’t an idiot like you; he knows better than to take a risk. You on the other hand…” He stopped himself and glanced up, seemingly interested in something else.
“Well, this idiot is going to save a man’s life,” I said as I started toward the battlefield again.
Malin tugged the collar of my shirt before I made any progress.
“What the—”
I didn’t finish. Everything had become silent; the magic, the battling, the rough movements had all come to a sudden halt. Malin lifted his hand from me, and the sound itself seemed loud enough to kill us. It was only him and I. My heart pounded against my chest, and all of the fears from earlier re-entered my mind.
Malin tapped my shoulder. I gazed over to him, and he mouthed the words “don’t move.” Before I could object, he stood up and ran.
My first impulse was to chase after him, but I knew he would be furious afterward if we lived through this. He was older than me, and I respected him as such. Malin was our most experienced magician when it came to magical weaponry. He hated coordinating actions with spells, but wielding a blade was his specialty. Esmour had allowed him to train me years again, and that alone was enough for me to believe he would not fail me now.
Though the fighting had stopped, I could hear footsteps moving cautiously through the grass. We were on the outskirts of Neutadt in an isolated area that had remained untouched over the years. Esmour discovered several closer to the outskirts of our city that he had confirmed as “black spots.” Such places weren’t visited or occupied anymore so that we could fight magicians without disrupting the normal flow of society.
Get on with it already. I thought, feeling the numbness in my feet.
Carefully, I slid up one sleeve of my tunic to reveal a dagger. I was the only one who carried my weapons close to the skin. By having the dagger tied against my arm it required that I never make a mistake. One wrong move, and everything would fall through. It wasn't something I always did, but sometimes taking the risk was necessary. Esmour knew about this little trick of mine and often times disapproved, but he never could win the argument when I returned alive.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I untied the weapon and grasped it. I couldn’t wait much longer. Malin and Alaire could be dead for all I knew, and I’d be crouching behind this blessed rock.
Slowly, I sat up to peer my head over the rock. I saw Malin standing over top of someone. At first I couldn’t recognize who it was because his head was lowered, but then I saw that my opponent from earlier had been struck down. He lay in the grass motionless.
I stood up, but Malin didn’t look my way. I nearly dropped my dagger when I noticed it was Alaire kneeling on the ground, shaking his head. Though the silence was uneasy, I walked toward them. They were a few inches away, but as I approached my jaw dropped. The other four White magicians lay on the ground motionless. Advancing to where Malin stood, I could see Alaire’s tear stained face.
“Alaire?” I choked, lowering my dagger.
Suddenly he rose and with a grim face he muttered, “God forgive us all.”
Malin’s deep voice overpowered Alaire’s whisper. “Did you kill them all?”
He said nothing.
“I wish I had seen it. Good work, Hunter,” Malin said, clapping his hands together. Then he added, “Let’s clean this mess up, gentlemen.”
We would have to hide the bodies until their contacts came for them. The contacts took them home and carried out the burial. However, I could not think about moving the bodies when Alaire remained still. I had never seen him cry before, except when he had dealt with family deaths. I imagined he cried in the privacy of his own home like any prideful man might.
“Sometimes it doesn’t feel right to take a man’s life. You need to remember that we do this for our people, to save their lives,” I said.
Alaire wiped away his tears and straightened up. He nodded at me, and I returned the gesture. Even though he didn’t ask, I wouldn’t tell anyone else about his breakdown.
***
I opened my eyes to the sound of the church bell ringing through my opened window. Sunbeams crawled through the curtains to rest on my bed. I sat up, taking notice of the clothes that were folded over the mirror. Pushing aside the white blanket, I stumbled out of bed and across the room to the mirror. I realized I was still in my nightgown from the previous night. Taking off the gown, I fetched the brown trousers and wiggled my legs into them. Then, I threw a white tunic over my head.
There was a comb on the dresser next to me, and I snatched it to brush back my black hair. The final touch was a blue vest, one of my favorite, which had been passed down to me from my father. An elegant design of Eldarian symbols complimented the light blue fabric.
The door creaked open, and I spun around to see who it was. She wore a plain black dress that was tight against her already-thin body. Her face was oval, and she had narrow, beady eyes like that of a cat. For someone with a beautiful smile, she rarely smiled at all. She was a member of Destin, Esmour’s organization, and had joined shortly after I did. Over the past four years we had worked for Esmour we had grown closer than I cared to admit, but she fancied Malin and I didn’t mind being alone. First and foremost she was my closest friend, and the woman I could always rely on to have my back.
“Nicia,” I said, grinning.
“I heard about your mission; you’re fortunate you can use work as an excuse. Did everything go as according to plan?” she asked.
“Are you asking about the mission or Malin?” I snickered, but she raised her brows at my sly remark. Coughing, I attempted to fix it with, “Malin is well, as are Alaire and I if you have any interest.”
She nodded, seemingly content with the answer. “And your dagger is clean?”
I cursed, having forgotten I kept it in my sword carrier this entire time. It had taken several hours for us to hide the bodies in the forest and return to Esmour’s to report the casualties, and by the time I returned home I fell asleep instantly.
“We can clean it later; you won’t be needing it today,” Nicia said, “I’ll be waiting with your mother downstairs.”
Watching as she exited the room, I waited a few moments to be certain she was gone. Then, I carefully crept out into the hallway and sneaked toward the study. It was still relatively early in the morning, thus I walked slowly until I entered into the room.
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There were papers and books filling the four walls, but I had no interest in them this morning. The room was dark without any candles being lit. My hand brushed against the desk, and I walked around to where the chair was to slide open the middle drawer. My fingers trembled clumsily as I pulled open the drawer and reached inside for the only item there: a letter.
“Fredar,” I whispered, holding the crumbled piece of paper in my hand. A flame sparked above my hands. As I unraveled the paper to reveal its contents, I allowed the fear to overwhelm me. Maddening thoughts filled my head, reasoning that one of these mornings I’d be killed for keeping up with the same routine. It was reckless, it was dangerous, and it was foolish… But the logic didn’t matter once the letter was flattened out.
Léal,
You are a Dark magician. Mama and I should have told you sooner, but someday you’ll understand why we kept this dangerous secret from you. These are the last words I will write before I die. I have little time…
I ask one thing of you: do not pursue the life of a Dark magician. Mama has lived without magic, and you can as well. Being as you are my only son and the joy of my life, I am leaving everything to you. Mama will help you with the business and the house until you are older.
You can change. Live a safe life. And son, no matter what, don’t…
That was it. Those were the last words Papa left behind for me when I was four years old. Twelve years later I continued to sneak from my bedroom at the beginning of each new day to read his warnings. Why did they have to kill him right before he finished his letter? I would never know his last dying wish. They took that from me, those nasty animals.
“Léal?”
A young lady’s voice broke through the silence. I jumped at the sound.
I turned my head to see Nicia standing in the doorway once again. Her dirty blonde hair flowed past her shoulders.
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