A soft knock on the door.
"Damn it, woman, I said…" The words died in my throat. There was a small bundle in the plastic crib the woman had wheeled into the room. "Is that…"
"Your daughter," she said softly. "She's healthy—perfect, in fact. Your wife held on until she was born."
Carefully, I gathered the baby in my arms. She was so tiny—so delicate. But a Warrior as powerful as the one born in New Salem. Brown hair, my nose, my chin. Skin still pink from the birth. She opened her big eyes in my direction.
"Hi there," I said, tears leaking down my face. "I'm your dad."
She gurgled and squirmed, staring around and looking at nothing.
I sank back into the chair, her tiny body cradled in my arms, as more tears fell. "Look, Mora. She's…she's perfect. We did perfectly."
There was no response. There wouldn't ever be a response. I would never wake up to her beautiful blue eyes, or hear her laugh. I would never see her roll her eyes at me or taste her lips. She would remain like this—still, cold. Dead.
It was all my fault.
"You!"
Jeanie stood in the doorway, with tearstained cheeks and fury in her eyes.
"You got a lot of nerve showing up here," she snarled, walking into the room. "After what you did to my sister?"
"What I…" I swallowed, knowing even if I hadn't killed her, I might as well have.
"Well, you got what you wanted, I guess. Take your Warrior and get the hell out of here."
"Tell me what happened," I whispered. "Please."
Jeanie worked her jaw then softened. "You don't know?"
I shook my head. "I was… I wasn't home. How the hell did this happen?"
"A Warrior showed up," she said. "Mora drew him away from the clan while Mom beefed up our protections. We found her on the beach…" Jeanie swallowed. "She was barely hanging on. I think she… she stayed alive for the baby."
It was worse than I could've possibly imagined. "A Warrior…"
"Yeah, from your guild."
"Cyrus." I rose with the baby in my arms, the fury and guilt mingling into a massive storm. I hated myself more than I'd ever hated anyone else. I'd given Cyrus a chance—shown him mercy. And he'd repaid me this way. By killing my wife.
She must've been scared to death. She must've wondered if I'd abandoned her, or if I'd sent Cyrus. I wished I could wake her up and tell her everything. Tell her that when I looked into her eyes, I could find the whole universe. That when I came home and saw her on the couch with my girls, it was the closest to perfection a man could get. That I would regret my actions for the rest of my life—give anything just to have her wake up and forgive me for my idiocy. I had put the Guild above my family. I would never, ever make that mistake again.
Cyrus knew where the tear was. And I, like an idiot, had been so sure in my own brilliance that I had no way to close it. Back to square one, I thought angrily to myself. Cyrus wouldn't rest until he'd destroyed everything I held dear, and there was…there was only one way for me to stop it. Only one way to contain him until I could permanently do so. But to do it…to do it, I'd have to give up the only thing I had left.
"Jeanie," I began softly. "I have something very important to ask you."
"W-what?"
"You and I have never been particularly close," I said, gently brushing my little girl's soft cheek. "But what I'm asking you to do… I would only trust you to complete it. Because I know, deep down, you and Mora loved each other. And you love my girls, even if you don't care for me."
She was silent, so I took it as an invitation to continue.
"I've made a horrible…" I shook my head. "Horrible doesn't even begin to describe it. I should've closed the tear years ago. I should have been more vigilant. I should've…" I closed my eyes. "But in order to fix my mistake, I have to return to New Salem. And I have to remain there."
"What are you saying?" Jeanie asked.
"I need you to take my girls," I said, surprised I could still feel the sharp jab of pain in my chest. "Take care of them. Raise them."
"I don't understand. Why can't you take them?"
"Because in order for the Guild to do what I ask, I have to pretend like every horrible thing your mother ever said about me is true. To protect my girls, I need…" I closed my eyes. "I need to give you sole guardianship over them. I'll give you money to disappear—move somewhere else. You don't even have to tell me where you go." I hoped she wouldn't, so I wouldn't have to see my daughters growing up without me.
Jeanie looked at the baby and shook her head. "I don't think I'm strong enough to handle them."
"Guardianship bestows upon it the weight of your clan," I said. "You'll be able to…contain them, if you need to."
"I meant…" Jeanie began softly. "I don't think I'm strong enough to handle three kids. I'm…Gavon, I'm just twenty. You can't ask me to do this."
"If there were anyone else, if there were any other way, I would do it. But if my kids grow up with your mother…" I closed my eyes. "I don't want to know what she'd do to them."
"Why can't you take them with you?" Jeanie asked.
"Because if they believe I know where the girls are, or have access to them, they'll come for them and kill them," I said. "Cyrus would take the baby and raise her into a cold-blooded killing machine like he is. He would use her as a vehicle to take over this world. There's much I can do as Guildmaster, but I can't…I wouldn't be able to stop him." I closed my eyes, praying Jeanie would understand, that she'd know I would never give up my girls unless there was no other option. "If your mother cared at all about Mora, she'll allow the girls to stay in Clan Carrigan. That will afford them some protection, even if you don't physically live here."
"Gavon, I can't do this…" Jeanie's voice was thick, and I was reminded of how many lives I'd ruined with just one stupid mistake.
"I'm begging you," I whispered. "Please take my girls. I don't trust them to anyone else."
She heaved a loud, wet breath, wiping her cheeks. "A-all right. I'll take them."
I opened my wet eyes into hers and could've kissed her. "I'll give you whatever you need. Just please…don't bind their magic. At least not forever."
Jeanie nodded. "You make it sound like you'll never see them again…"
I couldn't tell her the truth, so I rose and placed the baby in her arms. "Have your mother cast a containment spell on her. Use the power of your clan to seal her up tight. And…" I closed my eyes. "And for good measure, just don't tell her about magic. I have a feeling she'll be as powerful as her sisters, and if she knows her magic is reachable, she could break the containment spell."
"Do you think…she could?"
"I think given the right incentive, sure. Better to wait until she's mature enough to understand what she is." I ran my hand across her soft skin, imprinting the memory of her in my brain.
"Did you guys ever decide on a name?" Jeanie asked, looking so young with a baby.
"Alexis," I whispered softly. If I'd another chance, I would let Mora name her whatever she wanted. But Alexis would do. "Alexis Renee McKinn…" I swallowed. "Carrigan."
Jeanie nodded.
I wished I had something to say. Wished I could tell my girls I loved them, or perhaps even give them a kiss. But if I didn't leave right then, I would change my mind. So I left Jeanie and my newborn daughter in that hospital room with my dead wife.
Thirty-Nine
I arrived in New Salem ready to murder. Cyrus was in the Council room, along with the rest of them, and I didn't care who saw me punch him in the face. I stormed into the room, ripping him out of his seat and slamming him against the wall.
"Something the matter, old friend?" Cyrus taunted. His face was bloody—good. My wife had left some bruises on him.
"I'm going to kill you," I snarled. "Why? Why did you do that?"
"You should've killed me, Gav," he said in a sing-song voice. "Now your wife is dead, and there's no one to blame but yourself."
I re
leased him and stepped back.
"And now, I have the joy of raising that daughter of yours. After all, what are you going to tell the Guild?" He laughed. "I'm going to make her hate you and then, when the time is right, I'll have her challenge you and kill you."
"G-Guildmaster?" Rogers whispered. "Guildmaster, what is the meaning of this?"
"It appears our Guildmaster has been keeping more secrets than we thought," Cyrus said. "He's borne a Potion-maker and a Healer in that world, alongside the infant Warrior. And he thought he would raise that Warrior over there, outside the norms of this Guild."
"Of course," I said, too angry to show emotion. "That was my plan. Until you screwed it up."
Cyrus started. "What?"
"I'd infiltrated Clan Carrigan," I said, evenly. "Used the woman to have some children until she bore me a Warrior. I planned to train the girl and educate her in that world then use her to help lead us to victory. The only way I could do that was to pretend I came in peace, that the child's existence was a quirk of genetics."
Silence reigned—especially from Cyrus. It gave me a sick sense of victory. I hadn't been able to prevent the death of my wife, the sundering of my family, or the abandonment of my children, but I could finally shut him up.
"Unfortunately, thanks to Cyrus's idiocy, my plans have to change," I said, throwing him a glare. "The girl is now under a containment spell until she's fifteen. The clan's magic has overruled mine, and I'm unable to break it. Therefore, she's useless to us until she returns to her magic."
"What will you do then?" Rogers asked.
"Introduce her to the Guild," I said. "Perhaps. If she hasn't been completely swayed otherwise. She will be, in essence, a nonmagical until then, and I doubt they'll even tell her magic exists to keep the containment spell strong. She may be useless to us. Only time will tell." I rose. "Until then, I want the Council to enact a ban on entry to the world."
"Why?" Rogers said, as Cyrus choked in surprised. "We need to learn—"
"Clan Carrigan may kill the child if we take action," I said, knowing full well they wouldn't. But the Council understood ruthlessness. "It's better that we bide our time in this world. I will continue my research into the nonmagical weaponry and bring food to the village. We will grow strong. Train. And when our Warrior returns to us, we will make our move."
I arrived at the house that would become my home and collapsed in the library. In the privacy of my new home, the one I was yet again trapped in, I could let the rush of grief finally wash over me. In less than twenty-four hours, I'd lost the love of my life, my two precious girls, and a baby I'd held for nothing but a heartbeat. And now they would grow up believing I'd abandoned them.
My wife, my Mora, my partner…was gone. My girls, the light of my life, would be raised by a veritable stranger. Would Jeanie give them enough love? Teach Nicole the difference between lavender and thistle? Would she continue her potions tutelage?
And Marie, my brilliant, blue-eyed girl who'd just started talking and understanding the world. Would she even remember my face?
Alexis, my precious baby. All the plans I'd had, teaching her how to spar, watching her learn how to use that beautiful purple magic, were now gone. A little brunette who darted about the ring with the brilliance and quickness of the magical she was named after. Perhaps I'd never see her again.
Was it worth it to continue at all? I could find a way to close the tear then kill myself. It would be the same to my girls either way. Irene would fill their heads with lies about me, and they would hate me. They had every right to. I'd failed them in every sense of the word. I didn't have the right to be their father anymore.
There was a soft rap on the door and I readied myself to rage at whomever had disturbed me. I flung open the door to reveal Agatha, who carried her infernal child in her arms.
"M-Master Gavon," she whispered with a nod.
"Agatha," I said. "What do you want?"
"I thought…you would be taking the boy now."
Time for her to receive payment, I assumed. The boy was barely six months. "He's not old enough yet."
"Forgive me. He's begun to wield the Warrior magic, and I can't… I'm not…" She straightened. "I wish to live here and raise him under your roof."
I stared at her. That she could speak to me at all in the face of my horrific guilt was at once amusing and sickening. "Give me the boy, and get the hell out of my sight."
She handed me the child, and I magically slammed the door behind me.
The baby boy in my arms fidgeted and squirmed then opened his mouth to start wailing. I cooed at him, summoning a bottle and a can of formula from a grocery store. As the mixture warmed and blended, I rocked him gently, much the same way I'd done with Nicole when she was fussy. The bottle was exactly what he wanted, and he settled and ate.
"That's right, isn't it, James?" I said. "These idiots here don't know the first thing about babies, do they?"
The boy looked up at me with round eyes, reminding me painfully of my newest daughter. But I buried that guilt and that pain. If I sat in New Salem and thought about my children, I wouldn't be doing what I needed to protect them. I would continue to drown in my misery until I took my own life.
And if I killed myself, James would go to Cyrus—who'd fathered many children but had never been a father himself. He certainly didn't know anything about formula or changing diapers or soothing a colicky baby. Worse, in his care, James would grow up cruel and hateful. Even if I was successful in closing the tear, Cyrus would still wreak havoc on the people here. I couldn't be that selfish.
The baby opened his eyes and gurgled, giggling at me. I found a smile forming on my face as I tickled his stomach, eliciting more giggles.
I could never, ever replace my children. I would never heal from the pain of losing Mora. But perhaps, in this boy, I could find something to live for. I would raise him to be a good Guildmaster, to know and love his people as I did. Then, perhaps, when the time came to close the tear, I would let him have it.
Forty
That squalling baby had grown into a young man, the very man who sat before me on a chair, his head lolling as he recovered from the last interrogation. A young man I was profoundly angry with—who'd betrayed me and my daughters, who'd nearly gotten Alexis killed by tricking her into an induction match with Cyrus.
He'd always been a narcissistic child, but I'd hoped I had stomped the cruelty out of him. It appeared I hadn't known him as well as I'd thought—and Cyrus had been more influential. But for him to betray us like this? It made no sense. It wasn't the boy I'd raised.
When I'd finally been able to get him alone without anyone looking, I'd let him have it. But after a few moments of his painful stuttering, I'd realized he was under a curse. More prodding indicated he'd signed some kind of pact, which prevented him from divulging the details of it and also, it seemed, why it was signed in the first place.
I could piece together some aspects of it—he'd obviously discovered some devious plot of Cyrus's and, instead of coming to me, he'd seen fit to approach the man directly. Where had I gone wrong that both my apprentice and my daughter had become so cocksure in their powers?
He was certainly contrite now, fighting tooth and nail against a secrecy pact that would kill him if he continued.
"I want to try again," he ground out.
"Inadvisable," I said. "You were out for five minutes this time."
"Give me a healing potion, then. I want to beat this."
I sighed. "You may not be able to."
"But you have to know, Gavon," he said, his voice taking on the pleading note that told me more than his words could. "Please. Once more."
I handed him a vial of potion and he downed it in one gulp. Some of his color returned, and he wiped the blood from his nose.
"I'm ready."
"Name," I asked.
"James Malcolm Riley."
"Age?"
"Eighteen." He glanced at me and nodded, signaling he was ready fo
r the harder questions.
Due to the pact, I had to be cautious of what I asked him. Without knowing what the agreement entailed, there was no way to know how to phrase questions to get around it. But in some cases, his inability to answer questions was a clue in and of itself.
"Did you approach Cyrus on your own?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Did you seek him out about Alexis?"
He shook his head.
"About something else?"
Again, he nodded. "M-m-" He released a sigh of frustration.
"It's all right," I said. "Let me guide the questions here." But an 'm' word. Magic, marriage, mule, military—none of those words were making sense to me so I set it aside. "Did you find him or did he find you?"
"S-second," James spat out with some difficulty.
"Did you find Cyrus doing something I don't know about? On the other side of the tear?"
He nodded, but it was clearly painful to do so. "Mmm—"
"Magic?" I offered, and James stared at me straight on, fighting the pact. "You saw him doing magic—"
A shake of the head. A trickle of blood dripped from his nose. "M-m-meeting."
I was almost sure I'd misheard, but the one word had been clear. "Meeting?"
James released a loud sigh and wiped his sweaty face.
"He was meeting with people? Who was he meeting with? For what purpose?" James gave me a tired look, and I held up my hands. "Withdrawn."
I turned away from him, mulling over this new scrap of information I'd gleaned, and how I could ask James more without killing the boy. Cyrus had only had access to the world for less than three years, but in that time, I'd kept a close watch on his movements. Had he still given me the slip? And if so, what could he be planning?
"All right," I said, after a moment. "I'm going to ask you a series of question that should be a yes or no."
"Okay," he said with an exhalation.
"Was he meeting with people from the other side?"
James made a strangled noise. I took that as a yes.
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