Elijah's Quest (Finding Magic Book 4)

by Blair Drake

  Zora eyed the celebrations with a more cynical eye than his, though she still wore the faint smile she'd had since that morning. "I am."

  "What did you see in the Well of Hope?" It had stemmed from that, he was certain.

  Zora's smile answered that question, as she stared dreamily across the gardens, seeing none of them. "I saw my parents," she whispered. "We won the Ascension, and the lands were saved, and there were parades and accolades, but none of it mattered. I saw my parents in the crowd—I almost didn't recognize them, but my mother looks similar to me. I ran to them and my father swung me up in his arms, crushing me against his chest...."

  A single tear slid down her cheek, but it was a happy tear. "I haven't seen them in twelve years, but they were just as I remembered them. My mother was crying, and they kept touching my hair, my face. I've never been so happy."

  "Do the visions come true?" A hard knot rested in his gut. Traveling through the wells had a price, after all. What if seeing Zoe one last time was the price, and not a gift?

  "Some of them do," Zora said softly. "Some of them do not. I choose to believe my vision in the Well of Hope will come true. I have to."

  "Do you want to know what I saw?"

  She smiled sadly. "I already know. You saw her, didn't you? It's been written over you all day."

  Elijah's throat felt thick, and he slung an arm over her shoulders, dragging her against him for a hug. "I don't care what I have to do, Zora, but I swear we'll win tomorrow. I promise you will see your parents again."

  "And you will see your Zoe." She looked up, her face tilted to his. A hint of sadness flashed across her face before it vanished. "You will be gone from this world, but you will see your Zoe."

  "Don't tell me you're going soft on me, Princess Hard-ass." His voice sounded as rough as the emotions swirling through him. He'd been so focused on getting back that he'd forgotten about those he'd leave behind.

  "I can still kick your ass, Elijah."

  "Never in any doubt." He rested a hand on her shoulder and searched her face. "I'll miss you too. You and Zandui. Even Yeorfac." He tried for humor. "Maybe Yeorfac."

  There. There it was. A sign she wasn't quite as unaffected as she pretended. "You are a good man. I wish you could stay."

  They both knew he couldn't.

  They both knew his heart belonged elsewhere.

  Alter ego or not, Zora was her own person, as different from the Zoe he knew and loved, and he finally had an answer to his ethics dilemma. This was a kick-ass, grew-up-in-a-training-camp version of Zoe, and while a part of him loved this version too, the second he went through the Well of Hope, he'd known where he belonged.

  Zora slid her hand up his chest, and lifted her face to his. Elijah's heart erupted in a sharp staccato.

  At the last second, she turned, and her lips brushed his cheek. "Perhaps you'll see me again when you play this Kingdom of Orynthica game with your Zoe. Perhaps you'll see all of us."

  He drew back, and the moment was over.

  Zora wore her cool, unaffected mask once again as she surveyed the gardens. "We should get some sleep. The Pasternakians are going to throw everything they can at us tomorrow, and we'll both need a clear head. I haven't seen a hint of their team all night, which means they're definitely up to something, and I daresay the big reveal will occur tomorrow morning at the anointment ceremony." She glanced up from beneath her kohled lashes. "Are you ready, Elijah?"

  His heart was still racing, and he could almost feel the vibration of the Current around him. It shivered through the world around him like a pair of cymbals struck together, hinting at an earthy, exotic beat that matched Yasmene so well.

  "I'm ready," he said thickly. "If I touch the Yarlstone and Dameron manages to get a hold of me—"

  "I'll kill you," Zora promised.

  It was the best he could hope for.

  He'd seen the aftermath of Dameron in Agramorh. He'd seen the wells going dry, and the world turning to a barren desert in the Well of Sorrows. He couldn't allow the mage king to take him over. He couldn't be party to that.

  "But it's not going to happen." Zora curled her fingers into his. "You can do this, Elijah. You can beat him. I've seen you in action, and I have come to know your heart. Dameron is evil. He cannot penetrate the innate goodness within you. Think of everything you saw in the Well of Hopes and use that as your shield when he tries to overtake you."

  Elijah sighed. He hoped she wasn't overestimating his strength of will. "I know. But knowing you've got my back, just in case, gives me more relief than you'll ever know."

  Chapter 15

  Are you ready?

  The words kept rattling around Elijah's head, and he'd had barely any sleep last night.

  They stood in the enormous Great Hall as all the other teams jostled and jeered. Underneath the catcalls and what amounted to comparing sizes in the men's room, lay the aroma of nervousness.

  Elijah eyed the competition. The Isthenians seemed to have the most swagger, as if they thought their poison-tipped daggers and darts gave them an edge; while the quadruplet of kids from Havistock looked like they were terrified, despite the quivers they each wore that bristled with arrows.

  "Why are they so young?" he muttered to Yeorfac. "They've got to be barely fifteen."

  "The Havistock king doesn't expect to win. This round of tributes is most likely chosen as sacrifices. People they can afford to lose."

  Urgh. He hated poor sportsmanship, and competing against kids like that, with death on the table, was vile. "They should withdraw."

  "They cannot withdraw. It would bring shame on their kingdom, and their king would punish them. Severely." Yeorfac didn't seem to like it any more than he did.

  Elijah paced, as Zora checked the lacing on her boots. Steel gleamed at every inch of her body, and she looked like she'd spent the entire morning meditating.

  Possibly on the best ways to kill everyone in the Ascension.

  Yeorfac looked relieved to be able to wear whatever he wanted, and had chosen the base layer of his fur-rimmed outfit. Soft white leather protected his skin, but made him stand out like he had a target on his back.

  Zora wore a protective over-corset that looped around her throat, and seemed to be made of dozens of braided strips of hardened leather lashed together to protect her upper body. Steel vambraces guarded her arms, and her soft boots laced over her calves, and the leather leggings she wore. The only sign of her kingdom's allegiance was the blue ribbons braided through her hair. She gave new meaning to the phrase "dressed to kill".

  Tributes were usually gifted with an entire wardrobe for the Ascension, but Ismene had been put on short notice. There'd been a trunk of weapons, a few capes and boots that had been roughly matched to their sizes, but unlike the rest of the teams, they barely matched.

  The doors on the dais opened, and the Grand Master appeared, flanked by dozens of lackeys in orange silk.

  The buzz of conversation in the room died as he held his hands up.

  "Welcome to the Ascension," the GM called, gesturing to the scroll in one of the lackey's hands. "These are the rules to be followed as one enters the Labyrinth."

  He began reading them out.

  No withdrawing from the labyrinth once it was entered.

  No breaking down the walls of the labyrinth.

  To survive the course, tributes must make it to the end, though it was up to the winner's discretion to decide what became of the other tributes that remained alive once the Yarlstone was captured.

  To win, tributes needed to capture the Yarlstone.

  Yada. Yada. Yada.

  "No mention of the monsters in the maze," Zandui said, right behind him. "Or the minotaur."

  Elijah jumped. "Where have you been?"

  There'd been no sign of him last night at all.

  "Trying to get my hands on a map of the maze," Zandui muttered, slipping in beside him. Unlike Yeorfac, he was dressed in the same blue tunic-combo Elijah wore. An enormous battle-axe
was lashed across his back, and Elijah guessed if he grabbed Zandui by the boots and shook him upside down, the old man would give Zora a run for her money on hidden knives.

  It was just less visible.

  "What minotaur?" Elijah asked.

  Zandui crossed his arms over his chest. "Apparently the monster guarding the Yarlstone this year is a minotaur. I heard it from one of the Isthenians."

  "They're helping us?"

  "They didn't know I was listening."

  "Minotaur?" Zora whispered, as the Grand Master droned on about all the do's and do not's. "They're dangerous, but hardly what I expected to be the final challenge."

  "Mmm." Zandui stroked his beard. "I suspect it won't be as easy as anticipated."

  "Pasternakian tricks," Yeorfac said, spitting on the floor in disgust.

  Over a dozen people looked down as if they'd never seen a man spit on the floor before. Elijah was one of them.

  "Where are the Pasternakian tributes?" Zora demanded. "Why aren't they here yet?"

  "They haven't left their rooms since the delegates arrived," Zandui replied. "I tried to see what they're hiding, but all the Pasternakian rooms are locked down, and their servants have had their tongues removed."

  "What are they hiding?" Elijah muttered.

  "I don't know," Zandui said, looking perturbed for the first time since they'd arrived. "I expect it shall be nothing good."

  Zora flexed her arms behind her back and bent forward, stretching her spine. "A minotaur. Sounds like we're going to need a bow."

  Yeorfac surveyed the table of weapons laid before them, and picked up a bow and a quiver. He offered a dagger to Elijah, but Zora shook her head and handed him a quarterstaff.

  "And I've got my sword," Zora continued. "If I can get close enough to hamstring it, we should be able to take it down easily."

  Easily. A shiver trembled down Elijah's spine as if the Current was trying to tell him something. He still didn't know what Harry had meant at the Black Keep when he'd said someone was going to tell him something important while they were there. "What else is going to be in maze?"

  "They had a basilisk one year," Zandui said.

  "And ice wolves, but they were too hot to cause anyone grief, so I doubt we'll see them again," Zora added.

  "Monsters of all shapes and sizes," Yeorfac grumbled. "Pitfalls in the floor. Traps for the unwary. Gateways that take us to other areas, then back again."

  Just what had he gotten himself in for?

  As if the Current was mocking him, a disturbance brought all eyes to the door at the end of the chamber.

  Horns sounded. Doors crashed opened. And a quadruplet of dangerous looking tributes appeared in the middle of the doors, wearing an all-black uniform, and cloaks that hid their faces.

  The Pasternakians had arrived. Game on.

  Then the mage in the lead threw the hood of his cloak back, and everything changed as Elijah froze.

  "Holy shit," Elijah breathed.

  "Blessed Eloa," Zora echoed, beside him.

  "Pasternak presents its champions," cried the page introducing the new guys. "Bow before the might of Asilla, the Huntress; Rangoon, the Archer; Ellessaria, the Warrior; and Ezra, our Fire Mage."

  Ezra.

  "Let us hope there is not a second Elijah walking around on Orynthica, because there is only a certain level of your foolishness I feel I could tolerate."

  "That dude probably opened his mouth the wrong way one too many times already."

  They'd both been horribly, badly wrong.

  Elijah stared at his doppelgänger—the Elijah who'd been born on Orynthica–and felt like he was looking at the dark side version of himself. It was weird seeing a living, breathing reflection. Albeit the Goth version. Collar-length, wind-swept black hair surrounded Ezra's face—where were the trademark curls, man?—and a scar slashed through his brow. The guy locked brown eyes with him and smirked, as if he'd known all along.

  Probably had. This was why the GM had done a double check when he'd seen Elijah. This was how he'd known he was from earth.

  Ezra stopped in front of him, and Elijah was a little relieved to see he had the advantage when it came to bulk. Someone hadn't been dropping squats or benching two hundred and ten.

  Then Ezra smiled, as if he knew Elijah was comparing them and gave a click of his fingers.

  Every unlit torch in the room suddenly flared to life, one after the other.

  Fire mage.

  And one who clearly knew what he was doing.

  "So you're the untrained mage I've been hearing about," Ezra drawled.

  They even sounded alike.

  "Catalyst, dude." Elijah resisted the urge to brush dust off his shoulder. "Get it right. Black Keep stamped and approved."

  His heart was pounding, but this... this he knew. There was nothing like a bit of swagger and sizing up before a hockey game, and trading barbs. Didn't matter how you felt inside, Elijah could play this game with the best.

  Ezra's eyes narrowed as if he didn't like that at all. "What's your gift?"

  "Let's just say that's for me to know, and you to find out." Cliché, but his heartbeat was starting to throb in his ears now, as adrenaline fired through his system. He wasn't prepared to be witty on his own terms. The Current began to whisper through him, and Elijah could sense it hammering through Ezra like a struck drum.

  Power pulsed through the dude. Ezra had definitely turned up the bass. But it felt like he had too, and their vibrations pulsed against each other, until a heat haze seemed to shimmer in the air between them.

  "Elijah," Zora warned. "We're not allowed to draw blood before we enter the labyrinth."

  A flare of concern flickered through Ezra's eyes, and then it vanished as if it had never been. "Control yourself," he said coldly, and shut down his vibration abruptly.

  Ezra stalked past him.

  Elijah let out a slow deep breath, trying to reign in the Current pulsing through him. "Holy shit," he said again. "What do we do?"

  Zora watched Ezra go, and Elijah was glad she wasn't looking at him like that. "The same thing we planned before he revealed himself. We enter the labyrinth, we kill the monsters, and we capture the Yarlstone."

  "If it's any consolation," Zandui said, resting a hand on his shaking shoulder. "I, for one, am grateful to see the Pasternakian's trick revealed. It's the one up their sleeve I don't care for."

  Speak for yourself. "Dark Side Elijah is an ace all of his own. Trust me. I could feel the amount of Current he was channeling."

  And if Zora had been taken from her parents at the age of five to begin training for this, then how had Ezra been raised? It was like putting skates on your kid when he was two, and then sending a gifted newbie onto the ice for the first time to take him on.

  "Just remember," Zora murmured, "he's the you who was born in this world. Mage training or not, at heart he's still you. You know his strengths. You know his weaknesses."

  "And he knows mine."

  The doors on either side of the dais sprang open.

  "Let the Ascension begin!" the Grand Master called, lifting his arms.

  Chapter 16

  They were the last team through the doors.

  Everyone stampeded like a herd of zebra scenting the lion. Elijah sprinted behind Zora as they ducked through the doors and reached the top of a staircase. Down a narrow winding staircase they went, where he couldn't see around the corner even if he tried. The only good news was that the Pasternakians had entered the doors on the other side of the maze. They'd be taking a different course.

  "Down!" Zora called, and slamming a hand on top of his head, she shoved him to his knees.

  A grid of spikes swung out of nowhere, and whipped past his head, stirring his hair. They slammed into the wall, the spikes sinking into solid stone.

  "Watch your step," Zandui called, pushing past them. "I'll take the lead."

  There was a body on one of the stairs below. Elijah swallowed hard as they hurried past. A
dart in the guy's throat wore green feathers; Isthenian green.

  Zandui drew his sword, and Zora followed suit. Elijah gripped his staff, but there was no room to swing it.

  At the bottom of the staircase they came across a small round room. There were no doors. No windows. Only a circular pit in the floor, filled with a green shimmer of Current.

  "A well," Elijah said, pausing on the edge of it.

  Golden glyphs floated around the edges of the well.

  Zandui knelt. "It's not a well. It's a gateway. They're short range, generally less than a hundred miles."

  "Where does it go? I thought this was a labyrinth."

  "It is. But to get through certain sections, you have to pass through the gateways. And I don't know where it goes. One year one of the gateways opened up below the sea. Not a single one of the tributes on that side of the maze made it through."

  Elijah gulped. "Will it have a vision within it?"

  "No, but you'll hear a clue," Zora replied. "Make sure you listen."

  "Be prepared for anything," Zandui said, unstrapping his axe and stepping off the edge like a careful man plunging into deep water.

  He vanished.

  "I'll go next," Zora said. "Then Elijah. Then you, Yeorfac. Just in case there's someone following us."

  She vanished too.

  Elijah took a deep breath, staring at the shimmering green haze. The Current wants you to survive.

  Yeah, but the Pasternakians want you dead.

  He stepped off the edge, arms wind milling as he plunged through the green mist.

  The vibration slammed him.

  The world whirred.

  Then a voice came out of nowhere. It sounded like the Grand Master. "To find the gateway home search for the sign of the storm to find the heart of darkness, but beware the monster that lurks within."

  Elijah plunged into a world of light and heat, blinded instantly. His feet slammed into something soft and infinitely treacherous to his ankles, and then he went down, thrown sideways into sand. His body pinwheeled as he tumbled end-over-end down an enormous dune.