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Plague of Shadows

Page 11

by Michael Wisehart


  Breen’s eyes fluttered open, and he shook his head to clear the cobwebs. The conversation with Nyalis flooded back into his mind, and he hopped out of his bedroll. The sun was out and warm. By how high it was overhead, it was nearly midday. He didn’t even remember crawling into his blanket.

  He turned at the sound of movement behind him. It was Sheeva leaping from her covers, knives in hand, and knocking over a sealed jug of something that Nyalis had evidently laid out for them.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Breen snorted. “What do you think? The wizard did one of his hand-whirly things on us.” He yawned and stretched. “Got to admit, though, I feel pretty good.” He picked up the jug, pulled out the stopper, and poured himself a cup. He tested the warm liquid with the tip of his tongue. It appeared to be some sort of raspberry tea. Tipping the cup, he took a healthy swallow. He turned to see if Ty wanted some and spat half his mouthful across the fire.

  “Where’s Ty?” His brother’s bedding was empty. “Ty!”

  No answer.

  “Where’s that old man when you need him?” Sheeva asked, looking at the spot where Nyalis had sat the night before.

  Had Nyalis taken Ty somewhere? Had Ty wandered off in his sleep? What if Nyalis had taken Ty to that wizard school and left them to fend for themselves? Breen was halfway into the woods, bow in hand, when Sheeva called him back.

  “Here,” she said, holding out a small piece of parchment. “I found this.”

  Breen unfolded the paper and read it aloud, twice. “Breen, don’t worry about me. I’m with Nyalis. He needed to talk to me about something important. Not really sure where we’re going, but he said that you and Sheeva should go home. I’ll be back when we’re finished.”

  Breen looked at Sheeva. “It’s his handwriting, but I’ll be hanged if I leave here without him.”

  Chapter 14 | Ty

  TY’S EYES FLUTTERED OPEN, and he was overwhelmed by the rush of light.

  Slowly, shapes and colors took form. Turning his head, he discovered he was lying on a plush carpet of soft grass under a canopy of willow trees. The air smelled of jasmine and honey. And even though the light was bright enough to see by, the sky was blanketed in stars, their presence overpowered by . . . two moons?

  Ty sat up. Where am I?

  Behind him stood a stone archway, surrounded by a few worn pillars and a crumbling wall, clearly all that remained of some ancient structure. Whatever it had been, it was very, very old.

  Ty stood, surprised to find he had the strength to. After the spider’s bite, he was lucky just to be alive.

  Beyond the garden paradise rose an impenetrable wall of trees, like the bulwark to a great city, trees so thick he couldn’t see past the first few rows. A meandering stream separated the forest wall from the garden. It encircled the entire enclave like a moat but, although moving, didn’t seem to be going anywhere. It sang merrily, calming his spirit, reminding him in some small way of the brook behind his house. It had been his mother’s favorite spot to read right before sunset. She’d sit underneath the old oak and watch the colors fill the sky.

  His chest tightened as he considered the fact that his mother would never sit there again. He clenched his fists and felt his magic spark to life, igniting the flames inside him, their heat threatening to overwhelm everything else.

  He took a deep breath to calm the rage. It took several moments of concentrated effort, but he was able to get his emotions under control, and the flames faded to embers. Wiping his eyes, he turned to the ruins behind him, hoping to drive the memories away by focusing on something else. Anything else.

  Near the center of the structure was a white-marble dais. It stood out from the rest of the building, not so much because of the white marble but because it appeared untouched by the time that had ravaged everything else. It had steps on all four sides, leading to a raised platform on which was an onyx basin.

  Ty stared at the basin. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or was the bowl really floating in the air? He stepped through the stone portico leading into the ruins and started up the steps toward the peculiar floating bowl. He could see his image reflecting in its slick curvature. Strange symbols were etched around the rim, an ancient language he knew nothing about and certainly had no way of reading. Perhaps it told what this place was, or maybe it was a prayer to the Creator. The dais did have the look of an altar of sorts. Cautiously, he swung his hand underneath the bowl and once over the top. His eyes weren’t lying. It was floating. He leaned forward and glanced over the rim.

  The inside was filled with a silvery liquid, its surface smooth enough to make it look almost solid. He reached out with his finger.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Ty whirled, jerking his hand from the basin. Nyalis stood at the edge of the ruins, just beyond the stone archway. “Where are we?” Ty asked, leaving the platform.

  The wizard raised his arms. “Y’tarra. It’s been a very long time since anyone besides myself has set foot in this place.”

  “Ee . . . what?”

  “Y’tarra. The In-Between.”

  Ty looked around. “In between what?”

  Nyalis chuckled. “Y’tarra is located between the realm of man and the realm of Fae. It’s a sanctuary for wielders strong enough to find it.”

  Ty looked up at the swirls of color and the two moons. “How did we get here?”

  Nyalis stepped over to the side of the portico and patted one of the stone blocks. “A very ancient portal. They were created by the first Wizard Order millennia ago as a safe haven from the faerie, back before the Faerie Wars. A number of them still exist, if you know where to look. Meerwood happens to be home to one.”

  “If this place is between our realm and the faerie realm, does that mean . . .” Ty nervously scanned the outer trees. “There are faeries here as well?”

  “Not many,” he said, and started into the ruins toward Ty. “I’ve spotted a few over the years, but they don’t bother me, and I don’t bother them.”

  “Where does that go?” Ty asked, pointing to a small path behind Nyalis that led into the forest on the other side of the stream.

  Nyalis turned. “Ah, many different places.”

  “The realm of the Fae?”

  “No, thank goodness. But enough about the faerie realm. We have other things to discuss.”

  “Like why everyone on this side of the Angorans is trying to kill me?”

  Nyalis’s brow furrowed as he seemed to consider the question. “Control!” he finally said with a wave of his staff.

  “Control?” Ty scratched his head. Maybe the wizard had misunderstood him.

  “Why do people do anything? It’s about control. People need to feel like they are in control, whether it’s merely control over their own lives or control over the lives of others. For the most part, humanity is content with maintaining the illusion of control. They get up in the morning, go to work, earn a wage, support their family, raise their kids. And in doing so, they feel they have maintained some semblance of control.”

  “What does that have to do with people trying to kill me?”

  “I’m getting to that,” Nyalis said. “Men seek power for a multitude of reasons. But in the end, it comes down to one thing: They are looking to control an outcome. People see the world differently. That’s part of being human. Your experiences in life shape your perception, and there are those who want to turn their perceptions into reality, whether for good or evil. Unfortunately, reality is never that simple.”

  Ty was having a hard time following the wizard. He still didn’t understand what control had to do with the White Tower wanting to grab him.

  “For example,” Nyalis continued, “when someone says the ven’ae need to be destroyed because magic is evil, most truly believe what they are doing is right.” He shivered, holding firmly to his staff. “Many unspeakable atrocities have been committed under the guise of the greater good.”

  “Why can’t th
ey see magic isn’t evil?” Ty asked. “And that those of us born with it didn’t choose to be like that? Seems pretty simple to me.”

  “Because, my boy, as long as no one is there to challenge their misguided beliefs, they will continue.”

  “But that still doesn’t answer why the Tower is hunting me.”

  “Those in power don’t like it when someone shifts that balance. And that is why they hunt you, my young friend. You are the weight that upsets the scales of their control. They’ve had a noose around the neck of Aldor for quite some time, and they can’t risk anyone cutting the knot.”

  Ty thought he was beginning to understand. And if what the wizard said was true, it was indeed troubling. The Tower was afraid of him. Well, maybe not afraid, but certainly worried, which still seemed ridiculous to Ty. He was just one person. What did they have to be worried about? Maybe it wasn’t really him they were concerned with as much as the wielders rallying around him. If the White Tower’s goal was to control all of Aldor, then they certainly couldn’t allow wielders to speak out against the atrocities taking place inside the Tower. But if the truth came out, what would people do about it? Would enough be swayed to make a difference?

  Ty released a heavy sigh and sat on the dais step. His life was spinning out of control. The whole world was spinning out of control. A couple of weeks before, the only worries he had were finishing his chores, killing fresh game, and playing his flute for Performance Night. How had things come this far?

  “I wish I’d never been born with magic,” he said softly.

  Nyalis shuffled over to join him, groaning as he lowered himself onto the step. “Magic does come with its fair share of risks. You, more than others, because of the nature of your gifts. You have power, Ty. It might be weak and untested, but you have the potential within you to be much, much more. There are those, especially within the Tower, who want that power for themselves. To control and use it to further their own ambitions.”

  “What can I do?”

  “You have the same options as the rest of us: run, hide . . . or fight.”

  Ty saw his mother lying on the kitchen floor, body ravaged by spiders, the way she had looked up at him, using her dying breath to tell him she loved him. The anger inside stirred once more, and he gritted his teeth. “I want to fight.”

  Nyalis turned. He seemed surprised by Ty’s answer, or maybe it was the eagerness in his voice. Truth was, Ty had never wanted anything more in his life.

  “But I’m about as useless as a three-legged donkey. If it wasn’t for the sacrifice of others, I’d be digesting in the belly of one of those spiders right now.” He raised his hands and looked at them. “What good is it to have power if I can’t use it?” He bit down on his tongue. “Even Lyessa had to save my life.”

  Nyalis smiled. “Nothing wrong with having a strong woman watching your backside, my boy.”

  It was Ty’s turn to look surprised.

  The wizard lowered his head, looking a little sheepish. “That didn’t exactly come out how I intended.” He pursed his lips. “Or did it?” He looked Ty in the eyes. “You might feel helpless now, but trust me, you have the ability to become a powerful force in this world, for good—or for evil.”

  Ty didn’t want to be a powerful force. He’d be just as happy being a gamekeeper like his father. He was fine with living a simple, quiet life, and with settling down and raising a family. But it seemed the fates had something else in store.

  Nyalis tapped Ty’s shoulder. “This mark is a symbol of your strength. There are some who are born with the ability to do magic, although most will never know it, or recognize it for what it is. And then there’s you—one of the Marked Ones.”

  “Marked Ones?” Ty remembered seeing a book in Mangora’s shop that talked about the Marked Ones.

  “Yes, as we discussed earlier. You weren’t just born with magic. You were born of magic.”

  “Because my father was a faerie?”

  “Yes—”

  “But weren’t the faeries evil? Didn’t they try to enslave humans?” Ty gulped. “Does that mean I have evil in me as well?”

  Nyalis laughed. “Son, everyone has evil in them. We are all capable of it. As for the faeries, yes. Many of them did terrible things. But some did not. Some of them even helped the humans fight back. So, you see, even you have misguided preconceptions.”

  Ty nodded. He supposed he did. Every text he’d ever read or story he’d ever heard said that the Fae were monsters who came to enslave humanity. Still, knowing that some of the faeries weren’t as bad as the books made them out to be didn’t make him feel any better. Not only did he have to worry about people fearing him because of his magic, now he had to worry about them finding out he was half faerie.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. Like Nyalis said, he only had three options: run, hide, or fight. And if he chose to fight, he needed someone to show him how. “How can I learn to use my abilities?”

  Nyalis laid a hand on Ty’s shoulder and smiled. “That, my boy, is what I brought you here to discuss.”

  Ty sat up. “You did?”

  “Centuries ago, there were great schools of magic.” Nyalis waved his hand out in front of them, and the ruins disappeared, along with the garden, the stream, even the brightly lit night sky. Ty was no longer sitting on the steps of the dais but moving down a long corridor, young men and women in colored robes scurrying around him. Some acknowledged him with a nod or a smile; most continued on, seemingly unaware of his presence. “These were places where the people could come and learn how to use their gifts for the betterment of all. In these schools, wielders came together to study their craft and expand their knowledge, hoping to one day claim the title of wizard or sorceress.”

  Ty tried to look at his hands, but they wouldn’t move. He looked down and realized he had a beard. What’s happening? It was as though he were looking through someone else’s eyes. Was this a memory he was seeing? Could Nyalis make others see things like Ty could? He didn’t really care. He was too caught up in the revelry of the magic.

  “However,” Nyalis continued, “most of those schools were destroyed during the Great Purge. A few of the stronger ones remained by hiding themselves away with magic. One school in particular had been built on top of a ley line of elemental magic. Tapping into that power, we were able to keep it hidden throughout the centuries.”

  The scene once again shifted, and Ty was no longer walking down a bustling hallway but was instead standing outside an enormous fortress. On either side of him stood a number of other robed individuals, all with their arms outstretched and pointing toward the citadel. They were all chanting—Ty as well—although he couldn’t make out what was being said. A few moments later, the entire fortress vanished into thin air, not a trace left behind except a gaping hole in the mountainside where it used to be.

  The image vanished, and Ty was once again sitting on the step outside the gardens, his heart racing.

  “The school’s name is Aero’set, and it needs to be—”

  “Wait.” Ty turned and looked at Nyalis. “What do you mean, ‘we’? You said, ‘we were able to keep it hidden.’ Are you saying you were around before the time of the Great Purge? That’s not possible. That would mean you’re at least a thousand years old.”

  Nyalis grinned. “A bit older. But that’s a topic best saved for another day. Right now, I need your help in retrieving Aero’set.”

  “Me? Why do you need me? You’re this all-powerful, clearly ancient wizard. Why can’t you just bring it back?”

  “A wizard, yes. All-powerful, hardly. The Keep of Aero’set was built by faeries during the First Age, and it requires faerie blood to retrieve it.”

  “Why is this place so important? There are no wizards left. Other than you, right?”

  Nyalis grew solemn. “For the last two millennia, ranging as far back as the Faerie Wars, there have always been two main seats of power: the White Tower and Aero’set. If we are t
o have any hope of fighting back against what is coming, we are going to need the wizarding school’s help.”

  Ty blinked. That was about the most straightforward answer Nyalis had given him yet. “Where is it?”

  “Ah, well, that’s the thing,” Nyalis said with a half-smile.

  Ty’s shoulders drooped. He was getting the nagging feeling this was going to be a whole lot more complicated than he would like.

  The wizard reached into his robes and pulled out a small maroon pouch and held it out for Ty.

  “What’s this?” Ty asked, taking the pouch and loosening the drawstrings. He upturned the purse, and a silver compass plopped into his hand. A broken compass, he amended, watching the needle spin around and around. He glanced once more at the two moons above him and shook his head. Determining which way was north seemed out of the question.

  “It’s time you begin your training.”

  Ty’s head shot up. “Training?” That was what he’d been waiting to hear this entire time. “I’m ready!” This was it. He would learn how to avenge his mother. If Nyalis would train him to use his magic, he could learn to fight back. He could put an end to Mangora once and for all.

  The old man laughed. “Are you indeed?”

  Ty hesitated. “Yes.”

  “I guess we’ll find out.” Nyalis looked at the silver instrument in Ty’s hand. “That compass will be your guide.”

  “To what?”

  “To Aero’set, of course. What have we just been discussing?”

  “I thought we were discussing my training.”

  “Young man, this is the start of your training. Passing these four tests and returning the keep will push you further than you’ve gone before. It will force you to use more than just your magic. You will have to use your noggin.” Nyalis rapped his knuckles on the top of Ty’s head.

  “What four tests? This is the first I’m hearing about tests.”

 

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