Shadows and Embers

by Lindsey Richardson

  “Cirdel lilel,” I shouted, aiming my palm directing at the stubby man. A red orb of magic formed out of my palm and flew in his direction, threatening to strike his heart. Time itself seemed to slow down, and all the while I feared having made some kind of mistake. The wrong pronunciation or inaccurate aim would kill me. Finally all my fears were set to rest when the orb struck the man’s chest, sending sparks of magic throughout his entire body. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest, but there was no hope for him now. Instead he shook uncontrollably, and I dashed away in search for the others. Everywhere I turned there were footsteps following behind me, and occasionally spells bounced off the trees nearly hitting me in the head. With each step, though, I was closer to the men. If we could join together we might be able to withstand their attacks, but even then there was no telling how many of them were hiding among the trees.

  “Leal! Where are you, boy?!” Esmour’s voice yelled from close by.

  I ran faster now, refusing to let the magicians who were catching up to slow me down. Esmour had come to our rescue; he was here, and that was all that kept me running. If anyone would know what to do, it would be him. My lungs quivered inside of my chest, begging that I stop long enough to inhale, but if I gave up Aldemund’s men would kill me. All I held onto was running into Esmour’s hands, and anything after that we would decide on together. At least if they killed us we would go down together as a family, and come to think of it he was the only family I had right now. Each step further felt like I was thousands of miles away, but the White magicians did not deserve the satisfaction of killing me like this.

  One more step…. One more step… I thought, dashing past a tree and thinking my feet would bleed if I ran any further.

  “Come on, hurry!” Esmour cried, holding out his hand and waving at me. He was in the middle of a circle his spies had formed with their hands intertwined to one another, and there was one last spot open. With what little strength I had left, I jumped forward and two of the men caught me before I fell flat on my face.

  With his eyes focused on me, Esmour said, “Follow my lead, and no matter what do not break the circle.”

  I took my place in the circle and joined hands with the men beside me. Everyone raised their hands, but as I did my stare never left the magicians who were charging at us at full speed. In minutes they would reach our circle, and they seemed to be conquering spells of their own that would destroy us. All the same, I heard Esmour shout a word and then the spies followed it with “destruar.” I chimed in with them, screaming the word at the top of my lungs. There was a huge red cloud of smoke that formed above our circle, but the magicians were dangerously close now. Remembering Esmour’s words, I focused on the spell in my mind. Over and over, I thought of the word and focused all of my energy into it. Beads of sweat dripped down my face, sinking into my lips, but I didn’t risk looking at the others to see if this was a normal reaction. The cloud darkened, appearing as a blood red, and then at last it burst into all directions.

  “Close your eyes!” Esmour called over the screams.

  I forced my eyes shut and refused to blink until someone said it was safe. There were men screaming everywhere, but I had no way of determining if they were enemy or ally.

  “All clear!” one of the men shouted. Others repeated after him, but I didn’t open my eyes until I heard Esmour’s confirmation. Once he did I noticed the stained ground and backed away. All of the magicians were lying on the ground with their weapons scattered here and there, but there were stains on their bodies similar to the spell we had used.

  “What was that spell?” I asked Esmour, who walked past me to examine one of them.

  He shook his head. “Believe me, it’s best if you don’t know. The spell can only be performed with a large group of magicians, so I expect not to see it again anytime soon.”

  Frowning, I tried again. “But those were Aldemund’s magicians, yes? How did they know to attack us in the woods today?”

  Esmour stood up, dusting off his pants and sighed. His eyes were glassy as he said, “We’ve been betrayed.”

  I gasped, and all of my thoughts rushed to Nicia.

  As if reading my mind, he mumbled, “It wasn’t her.”

  “Then who?” I asked, throwing my arms up in the air. “We’ve lost two magicians since Rahela, and then today we lose Jacquette and we’re attacked. The downfall that stranger told you about seems like a threatening reality.”

  Some of the spies glanced over at me while they dragged the bodies into a pile. I had forgotten they were with us and might listen in, but whatever lies Esmour had to tell to comfort them was his own problem.

  “Would you stop with your childish quarrels? I don’t have time for this. We massacred these magicians, and now I’ll have to answer to Aldemund when he comes to my door. And for God’s sake, we have another rat amongst us, so can you please stay out of the way?” Esmour hissed.

  I lowered my head, thinking back to the time he had struck me across the face or when he stripped Nicia of his power. My mother and Enric already looked down on me as a child, but I wouldn’t let it pass with Esmour again. I cleared my throat, but when I glanced up Esmour was standing in front of the pile of bodies. With one swift movement of his hand, the bodies lit up into flames and slowly began to burn.

  Walking over to him, I said carefully, “I was the one who found my father dead and watched my partner die in front of my eyes. Please, explain to me what’s happened.”

  “All right,” he agreed with his focus on the bodies. “Someone found a piece of Jacquette’s dress stuck on a tree…”

  “And?”

  “There were hoof prints leading in and out of the forest. Someone took her, and she let them. Jacquette…she’s the rat,” he whispered softly. A single tear leaked from his eye, but I couldn’t find the words to say to him. Of all of the people to betray us, Jacquette did it on the day of her wedding.

  A thought occurred to me, and my voice quivered as I asked, “If she was already gone before the ambush….does that mean…?”

  “I fear Aldemund is behind this,” he said, confirming the worst nightmare imaginable. It didn’t take knowing a lot about Aldemund for one to know he was dangerous. Esmour had a vendetta against him for years, and now his eyes darkened with the glare of the flames in them.

  “This could be war,” I murmured so quietly that I doubted he heard me.

  Bitterly, he replied, “This will be like any other; one that will go down in history…as a brother’s war.”

  Staring at the flames, I wondered how we could be at war with our ‘brothers’ when the White magicians were our enemies. I wasted no time asking Esmour; it was something he would explain when he felt it was necessary. For now I wondered how long the ambush would remain as a secret, seeing as the fighting had been physical and loud enough that locals might have heard it. On the other hand, we were in the deep part of the forest, and with the constable on our side there might not be anything to fret over.

  As I started walking back to the church, Esmour called out, “I won’t be telling him what happened. I leave it for you to decide, but I can’t do it.”

  Groaning, I turned around and asked, “And why not?”

  “This was his wedding day. I won’t be the one to take it away from him,” he said calmly.

  Sighing, I began my journey with the weight of the world on my shoulders. While I knew Esmour and Alaire were closer than I was aware, I was surprised to hear him value someone’s happiness over a secret that could be explosive. Jacquette’s betrayal wasn’t exactly the kind of secret one could keep when it directly affected everyone in Destin. All the same, I had no desire of being the one to destroy Alaire’s happiness. This morning he looked like the happiest man alive, and if I told him now then everything he waited for would have been for nothing.

  ***

  I stepped into the church and noticed Alaire immediately. He was standing at the front where he had been with the priest, but now the benches we
re empty except for Nicia who sat in the far back. She glanced over at me, and the moment I acknowledged her our eyes locked. Quickly, I turned my head the other way and swore silently. Now was no time for her to become involved, and once Esmour returned I was certain he wouldn’t go easy on her. He would want to blame it on someone, and she was the perfect target. All the same, I walked up to and stood in the row behind her.

  “How is he?” I asked, refusing to look down at her, though I could feel her stare.

  “The same,” she replied, and then added more quietly, “He’s starting to lose faith, and I’m afraid that might bring out his bad side.”

  I nodded, resting my hands on the bench.

  “Did something happen during the search? You look…” she paused, searching for the words. “You look exhausted.”

  Grunting, I ignored her concern and approached the altar where Alaire was. If I knew him like I did, he’d wait for Jacquette all night long. I walked up to him with all intentions of telling the truth, knowing if I were him it would be my only desire. The moment he glanced at me there was a thin smile that curved on his face like he still held onto hope, like Jacquette would be running through the doors any moment. It was the same hope I held for Malin with each passing day.

  “You look like you’ve been in a fight,” he remarked.

  Pouting, I said, “A few children were fighting in the street, and I stopped it. Do you want to go home?”

  Alaire looked away, gazing at one of the angel statues. “I have no home to return to. Jacquette was the only reason I had anywhere to stay, and now she’s gone…”

  My knees quivered, and I sat down on the first step before anyone noticed. I did not need to look over at Nicia to know she would still be watching me. Rubbing my chin, I thought of ways to tell him. It shouldn’t be this hard; all I had to do was tell him the truth. No one wanted to hear the truth, though. They rather hear comforting lies because it protects them from reality. My conscience argued that I needed to be stronger than this; that this was one secret I could not keep.

  Then Alaire sat beside me and said, “Take Nicia home; there’s no need for her to see me like this. I need time to straighten out everything in my head.”

  Jacquette never deserved you. She abandoned you on the day of your wedding, and nearly her own allies. I thought in my head, trying to force the words out of my mouth. I couldn’t do it. I stood up, and each step distancing us felt like I was ripping his heart out. He would not wait in the church if he knew the truth, but now there was no telling how long he would be deprived of rest. I did not even have the decency to tell him that Nicia and I were no longer on talking terms. When she stood up and met me half way I offered my arm, and she accepted like nothing could go wrong.

  We walked home, listening to Esmour as he conducted his men with orders. I wished the ambush was something I could talk to Nicia about by the fireplace, but my trust in anyone at this point was running thin. Fortunately we didn’t have any run-ins with the locals, most of which were inside preparing dinner or closing up their shops. The day was growing late, and I wondered where Jacquette would be before the end of the night.

  “I can make it from here on my own,” Nicia said, trying to pull away from me.

  “I know you can,” I whispered, and then I pulled her closer to me so that our lips were nearly touching. Titling her chip up by the slightest, I did something not even I had expected. I pressed my lips against hers, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. The sensation that engulfed me consumed my entire body, but the feeling was like nothing I had ever felt before. Our lips barely parted long enough to exhale, and then they rejoined with all of the emotions attached. It felt like waves were crashing into my heart, but her body pressed firmly against mine and I thought this moment alone would devour me forever. The softness of her lips and warmth of her skin spoke of a love that was eternal.

  At last she pulled away from me, though remaining in my arms.

  “Goodbye, Leal,” she whispered, kissing me on the cheek.

  I held onto her hand until she was too far gone, and then I watched her step into the house. Despite the ocean that was swirling inside of my body, I knew everything that happened was a bittersweet farewell. A new burning crept up my chest, and I clutched at my heart. She was my eternity, but she was also my undoing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Send Them Away

  June 1570

  Everything can change in a year; people’s faces grow old with age, and secrets once buried begin to surface. For me, a Sunday night in June was all it took to destroy the life I once knew.

  It was past midnight when Mama woke me to say that someone had arrived. At first I didn’t understand her concern, but then she explained it was one of the Prince’s messengers. I jumped out of bed without a second thought, grabbed my robe, and put it on as I ran down the staircase. Mama remained at the top of the stairs, watching from above. I had no idea what the Prince’s messenger would want at this late hour.

  “You are the man of the household?” he asked at the door.

  I nodded, though I was still trying to catch my breath.

  “On this day the Prince has declared that Dark magicians are outlawed. Their magic is foul, and we will no longer accommodate them in society. There are only five who have survived, and when they are discovered they will be killed,” he said, reading off a piece of parchment. He continued on, talking about the laws of magic and reassuring me that the last five Dark magicians would die. I had stopped listening to him altogether, and when at last he left I turned around and looked up at Mama.

  She had a horrified look on her face, which I’m certain was similar to my own. With shock there also seemed to be disappointment in her eyes because I had gone against everything our family valued. I was supposed to be the one upholding our family, but now my own life would tear it apart. I felt like a stranger to her, and she would never understand what this meant. This separated us as human and magician and mother and son. Without telling her where I was going, I ran out of the house.

  Fetching a horse from the stable, I rode to Alaire’s house as fast as the animal would take me. Jacquette’s parents had left town to search for their daughter, leaving behind the house and shop to Alaire. They had told him that he was part of their family regardless of if he married Jacquette or not. I still carried the burden of a terrible secret, but now that was the least of my worries.

  Approaching the house, I pulled the horse to a stop and jumped off. The door opened and Alaire ran out, nearly hitting me in the process.

  “I was on my way,” he said.

  “We have to speak to Esmour; there must have been a mistake,” I responded. Again I mounted the horse, and Alaire jumped on the back. As I directed the horse to Esmour’s I slowed down the pace, being weary of the prince’s messengers being close by.

  When we reached Esmour’s house there was an eerie silence. Alaire and I dismounted the horse, and then I tied it up to the closest tree. For a moment I glanced over at Nicia's house. I had run into her at church and in the marketplace, but ever since the kiss we hadn’t spoken. I wasn’t the kind of fool who would believe that destiny could bring us back together. It was the fact that the kiss meant something that stopped me from approaching her. We lived in separate worlds now.

  “Are you coming?” Alaire asked, gesturing toward the door.

  He held it open, and then I stepped in with him following directly behind me. There was a peculiar smell in the room that smelt familiar, but I couldn’t recognize it. As I stepped toward the kitchen I could see the food scattered on the floor, lying in a red puddle. I stopped where I was, holding my breath. Esmour was lying on the floor… dead. His chest was covered in blood, and his face was pale enough to suggest that he had been like this for several hours. I didn’t know what to do, but he couldn’t be dead. Stepping around the food and a broken vase, I knelt down and held two fingers against his neck. There was no pulse, but I ripped open his tunic and placed my head against his
chest. Again, there was no pulse.

  “He’s dead,” Alaire whispered.

  Esmour’s blood was staining the side of my face, but I had no strength to move. Instead I pounded my fist against his chest, wishing that it would bring him back.

  “Leal, please…” Alaire said with a shaking voice.

  I refused to move and doubted he could convince me otherwise. No one deserved to die in this house, especially not Esmour. He had held together Destin for years, and more importantly he had been a father. I couldn’t lose another father to the hands of magic.

  “Come on, let’s bury him,” Alaire proposed, bending down and offering his hand.

  I remained motionless, and so long as I stayed here Alaire wouldn’t be able to move the both of us. We couldn’t bury him; it was a terrible mistake.

  Sighing, he tried again. “I can wait here all night long. I did it for Jacquette; I’ll do it for you. Wouldn’t Esmour want to die with some pride left, though? You’re lying in his blood on the kitchen floor. Would he want that?”

  Slowly, I raised my head. His hand had remained extended, waiting for me to change my mind, and at last I accepted it. Together we lifted up the body and snuck out of the house and into the woods. Alaire led the way, and there was no time to waste. If anyone saw Esmour’s body they would want answers that we did not have. All I knew was that Alaire was leading us toward the lake. Esmour had requested that when he died to be buried away from the rest of the world.

  We reached the lake and stepped into the water. Alaire motioned that we place the body down. I did so, listening to the splash that followed. The body floated in the water, and Alaire moved out of the water to begin the spell. I joined him, chanting the words rapidly. It set the body on fire, and so long as our magic was bound together for the moment the water could not evaporate the fire. With Esmour dead, there was nothing left to Destin. We were the outsiders, the orphans without any refuge. If only five magicians walked the Earth now, then it seemed ironic for Esmour to be dead while we lived on.