by K. Ferrin
He’d found nothing that could be of use to Alekka, either. He was tired, and bored, and his head ached. He flipped mindlessly through to the end of the book he’d been looking at, flipped it closed, and returned it to the bookshelf with an impatient snort. He didn’t grab another one. He headed for the lake instead. He was used to being active during his days, and was unaccustomed to so much sitting.
Noz didn’t return the next day either, or the one after that. The days started to pass by in a predictable pattern: awake in the early morning hours working sword forms while Jobin shifted and complained in the clearing and Alekka ignored them both, her head buried in a book. The rest of the day spent sprawled on a couch or sitting at the table flipping through tome after tome on subjects as widely varying as The History of Feather Brushing to a dissertation on the art and times of Oweness Flint, who had apparently been an adventurer of great renown. Magicless had gone through dozens of titles but had yet to find even a single mention of anyone who’d actually come up against the Dark Wizard or visited the Winter Isle or anything else even remotely interesting, not even the famous Flint. He was certain they were wasting their time, but he said nothing. What other choice did they have?
Jobin had made no improvement in his meditations. Alekka was unconcerned, but Magicless thought at least some progress should have been made after a week of daily practice. He’d voiced his thoughts to Alekka, but she’d only shot him a withering look that spoke volumes. He knew he shouldn’t doubt her—this was the way that mages were trained from childhood, and she had no reason to deviate from centuries of tradition. Still, Jobin’s frustration and lack of progress rankled him, especially since he had been the one to first promise Jobin that they’d help him harness and use his power.
With each day, everyone grew more tense. It had been a week, and they’d heard nothing from their missing host.
Magicless was worried about him, and he knew Alekka was, too. The others were growing increasingly impatient. The passive reading for hours on end was wearing on Tredon and Leali as much as it was on him. He’d never thought to find something the three of them had in common, but this abhorrence of constant inactivity was certainly something they shared. It might have been different if they’d found something of value, but none of them had found anything. Tredon had reached his limit for physical inactivity and was beginning to talk about leaving and heading north even without a map or any inkling of where in the north to head to. So far, his chafing had been limited to small comments, and the others were disinclined to just wander north in search of the Winter Isle. It was big up there, they knew, covered in mile after mile of ice and snow. Not a place you wanted to aimlessly wander through. You could wander for all the rest of your days and probably find absolutely nothing.
Magicless wondered if something had happened to Noz. He’d been so excited to talk with them when they’d arrived, and Magicless couldn’t imagine anything would keep him away for long unless it were something awful. Jobin, Alekka, and Elisa all shared his concern, but none of them had the slightest clue what to do about it. Noz had asked them to wait, after all, and had given no indication he was off to something that could get him into trouble.
So they waited. Magicless thought about Alekka’s ability to sense others, and wondered if she could do it over great distances or when she didn’t know where the other person was. But he said nothing to her about it. She’d been equally unsuccessful in finding a way to protect herself from invasion while reaching, as she called it, and he knew she’d not want to open herself—or the rest of them—up to that kind of risk.
They’d begun sharing stories over dinner. Stories about what they knew of the Dark Wizard; tidbits they’d gathered growing up or in the books they were pouring through—disappearances, unexplained phenomena. Words left unsaid. What they did have didn’t amount to much more than rumor and cautionary tales. Everyone knew of the Ragers and Ghosts, the abductions, the years of pain and loss and terror across their lands. Despite Amentis’ flagrant flaunting of his powers and his penchant for stealing away babes and their mothers, no one really knew why he did it. Some theorized he’d found a way to siphon the mothers’ powers to remain eternally young. Others said he’d found a way to keep them alive but in some deep sleep and was storing the magic found in the bond between them and their babes to unleash darkness onto the land.
There was one thing that all of the fragments and rumors had in common—that he could not be beaten. That he was so powerful none alive could possibly defeat him, and that all the peoples of Dorine Lillith must view the harvest as a necessary tithe or face destruction. Magicless could certainly appreciate the truthfulness in that warning after seeing the destruction wrought against Aclay. But he had difficulty stomaching the centuries of sitting on hands and casting eyes to the ground, especially if any of the stories about the stockpiling of power were true. If that was Amentis’ goal, then he’d only get stronger in time, making it harder and harder to defeat him.
One night around a glowing fire, Leali recounted a tale that her mother had told her when she was a young girl. The story had been told and retold in her family for ages—for so long no one remembered where it had come from.
“He killed his mother, when he was a child. And burned his entire village to the ground, too. Have any of you heard that?” Leali had begun. No one responded. Out of the corner of his eye, Magicless saw Jobin suppress a shudder.
“He was young, and quite powerful. He struggled with powers much too big for such a small boy, and he often was kept back at class to practice long after everyone else had gone home. The story goes that he and his mother had a fight—something silly, she took a toy away from him or something—the details get a little fuzzy. But he lashed out, killing his mother and—” She stopped talking abruptly, staring down at her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.
“People tried to jump in and save her,” she continued. “He killed and injured many, and burned half the village. When they finally subdued him, they threw him out, and he was banished from the village forever. He was probably just a scared child, and they threw him out on his own. No one would take him in after that. I remember feeling sorry for him when I heard that story the first time.”
Magicless had been speechless for a time, and so had the rest of the group. Jobin had stared directly at the table in front of him, unwilling to look anyone in the eye. Eventually Alekka had stepped in and pulled them away from the squirming precipice Leali had brought them to the edge of.
“It is love and compassion that can make or break a person,” she’d said. “If that story is true, Leali, our own people helped make him what he is. Casting him out so young to struggle on his own. Perhaps the child he once was deserves our empathy rather than our judgment.”
Like any story of old, Magicless viewed the tale with skepticism, but still, it made a kind of sense. Magicless could imagine the guilt that must have enveloped the young boy once his temper had cooled, the sorrow of being cast out by those you’d known and loved all your life, and the terror he must have felt at wandering the wilds on his own. Such things could drive anyone to madness. Perhaps the kidnappings and abductions were his way of trying to fill the void carved out by a life of loneliness and isolation. It wasn’t an excuse—but maybe it was a reason.
[ 16 ]
“It’s been three weeks today,” Magicless said. He was leant up against a tree, shoulder to shoulder with Alekka. He enjoyed the feel of her warmth pressed up against him as he flipped through another book, sharing her magelight. Jobin was, as usual, sitting in the clearing, busily swearing and cursing Alekka for her inflexibility and accusing her of not wanting him to be successful in this effort. If she really wanted him to be successful she’d unbind him, he argued almost daily now.
For her part, she completely ignored him. She was implacable. This time, she ignored Magicless, too, offering no answer to his observation. He flipped his book closed and tossed it to the ground beside him. She was still absorbed i
n her reading. He doubted she even realized he was still sitting there. “I’m going to the lake to do my forms,” he said out loud to no one in particular, shrugging.
“I’m coming with you,” said Jobin, jumping up from his seated position in the clearing. “I’m done with this wretched meditation crap. No offense, Micah, but she’s got no idea what she’s doing.” He nodded toward Alekka, who was still ignoring them both.
Magicless let it slide. He understood Jobin’s frustration. He’d probably feel the same way if the roles were reversed.
“Hey, can you teach me the forms you do every morning? You offered to teach me to use a sword, remember?”
“Of course, if you still want to learn,” Magicless replied, smiling. He was pleased that Jobin took interest in what he’d been working on all of his life. “Find a stick like this one.” He showed Jobin the stick he’d been using for his forms. “You want it to be at least this thick and long so you can get the proper feel of it.”
The two of them poked around until they found a worthy tool, and Magicless began walking him through the first form. He caught on quickly, and before he knew it Jobin was shadowing him as they moved quickly through the positions and stances of the form, both slicked with sweat. They finished, and Magicless dropped the tip of his wooden sword to the ground and leaned on it, puffing hard.
“Jobin, I think we’ve been going at this the wrong way up until now, but I think we might have just found the right way.”
Magicless hadn’t seen Alekka watching, but as she spoke she stepped out from the darker shadow of the trees and approached the two men.
“What do you mean?” Jobin asked.
“Well, meditation can take many forms. Most mages go about it as I’ve been teaching you, through quiet contemplation, but that doesn’t work for everyone. I’ve been watching you. You are good at these, what do you call them? Forms? You’re good at it, and you lose yourself in it, and that is the point. I think this is how you should train going forward. If you are alright with that.”
“You mean no more sitting still in the middle of that clearing by myself? Um, yeah, sure!” He laughed, clearly relieved, his eyes bright. Magicless turned to Alekka and found her smiling at both of them. He smiled back. Thank you, he tried to convey in a look. He thought she understood.
“Well then. Micah, I give his training over to you. Teach him how to use the sword. It’s my turn to sit and watch. When he’s ready, I’ll take him to the next stage.”
Magicless took over Jobin’s training beginning the next day, and they spent their early morning hours going through form after form for hours on end. Magicless was impressed with Jobin’s focus and desire to learn, and was surprised at how quickly he learned.
If the early mornings were now a pleasure for the three of them, the afternoons remained a torment. Tredon and Leali were increasingly discontent. Tredon spent his days away from the cottage doing who knows what. Leali continued digging through books but often Magicless would look up to see her slumped, chin resting in palm, staring blankly into the distance. He wondered what she was thinking about but was hesitant to ask. His relationships with Jobin, Elisa, and Alekka were growing stronger everyday, but the other three still tended to only tolerate his presence and he didn’t want to push them—but tiptoeing around the cottage all afternoon was not his idea of a good time.
[ 17 ]
“Four weeks,” Magicless said. He and Alekka were sitting on opposite sides of a tree, their backs pressed against the rough bark. Alekka’s magelight hovered between them, casting light on the open books nestled in each of their laps. Jobin was flowing through his forms, completely absorbed in his movements. Alekka was immersed in her readings as always, but Magicless felt restless. He loved the morning routine with Jobin, and was proud of his progress, but he was as tired of waiting as the others were, tired of reading useless books on stuff that didn’t matter, and tired of worrying about what had happened to Noz and what they would do if he didn’t return. They couldn’t wait forever.
Magicless began to think Alekka hadn’t heard him. She did that when she was deeply involved in a book. He sighed and trained his eyes back on his book, trying to muster enough discipline to keep reading.
“Too long,” Alekka said quietly just as Magicless had picked up the thread of the last sentence he’d been reading.
“Too long,” Magicless agreed. “And we’ve found nothing in these books. We need another plan. We can’t stay here forever waiting.”
“I know,” she sighed, putting her book down beside her. She turned and faced him. “I’ve been considering options, shuffling through spells that might be able to help us.” She stopped, and Magicless waited for her to continue. He suspected he knew what she was going to say next.
“I can try to reach out to him. Like I did that bat creature. I’m not sure it’ll work—I have no idea where he is and I’m not sure how far I can reach. Also, if he’s been taken...if he is in Amentis’ control...”
She didn’t have to finish. They both knew what that could mean for her and for all of them. If Amentis were there waiting, they would all be in more danger than any of them could fathom. He could take control of her, of her magic, and force her to use her powers against them. If they were lucky, and ready, they might be able to bind her, or she might be able to fight her way out…but it’s far more likely that I’d have to make good on my promise, thought Magicless. He quickly pushed the thought away, down into the recesses of his mind where he could close a door on it—one he hopefully never had to open again.
[ 18 ]
As they headed back to the cabin, Alekka went over and over her options. By reaching, she could discover what had become of Noz and perhaps find a way to kick their stalled journey back into motion. But what if Amentis was waiting for her?
She was certain something dire had happened to Noz. There was no way he would have stayed away so long without contacting them unless he was incapable of doing so for some reason. Something was stopping him from reaching out to them, and there were only two explanations she could think of—he’d been captured by the Dark Wizard, or he’d suffered some sort of accident and was incapacitated or even dead. She had no way of knowing if that was the case—or if Amentis knew about their quest, either because of Noz or the incident with the bat king—until she contacted Noz.
If Noz was dead, she would never know. And, of course, there were hundreds of things that could cause a reaching to fail other than the object of the reach being dead. But, if he was alive and in the clutches of the Dark Wizard...she didn’t even want to think what the result of that might be. If Amentis had any inclination of their quest then he could be lurking there, waiting for them to make this exact move.
She kept telling herself there was no way the Dark Wizard could possibly know they had found the Map Maker, but she knew that was nothing but wishful thinking. She forced herself to put that aside and think through the scenario. If the Dark Wizard had seen all that the bat king had seen, what would he know? He would know there was a group out in search of the Map Maker. He would likely know the membership of that group and have felt the depth of at least her power. He would not know that they had in fact found the Map Maker—he may not even realize they were close, and she felt confident that Noz would have taken pains to disguise his location from the Dark Wizard. So he’d have no idea whether or not they’d found Noz, only that they sought him. And maybe that would be enough motivation for Amentis to capture Noz. But if he had captured Noz and found a way to dig information out of his mind, he could know everything about them. She suspected Noz knew all about her power—about all of their powers—not to mention everything about their journey and its purpose.
She made a sharp, slashing movement with her hand, trying to physically force the thoughts out of her head. They had little choice. She had little choice. They could not wait here forever, they had to do something, and this was the only thing she could conceive of that might get them what they needed. It was usele
ss worrying about Amentis and what he did or did not know. It was like one of those puzzles they sold in the toy shop back home—easy to put together if you have all the pieces and a picture to work from, almost impossible if not. She was afraid, but they had no other option.
She pushed these thoughts out of her mind as they climbed the steps into Noz’s cabin. Elisa was reading on the couch when they walked in. She gazed at Jobin and then turned and gave Alekka a pointed look. That secret, at least, was out of the bag. Alekka shrugged her shoulders. Elisa would say nothing. It had, after all, been her idea for Alekka to try to help Jobin in the first place. Alekka was sure the other woman was baffled by Micah’s involvement, but she said nothing about it. She smiled brightly at Jobin and motioned for him to join her on the couch. He grabbed a thickly buttered slab of bread, a steaming hot cup of tea, and joined her. He took Elisa’s hand in his own, chewing and smiling, and an answering smile spread across her face. Alekka and Micah sat down together at the table and waited for the others to wake and join them.
Each came from their rooms in turn, rubbing sleep from their eyes, and joined Alekka and Micah at the table. Somehow they seemed to know something had changed—that a decision had been made today. Ashier was the last to join them. When he realized they were all sitting together at the table and watching him impatiently, he hurriedly grabbed some tea and took a seat.
Surprisingly, neither Leali nor Tredon said a word, but waited calmly for the others to begin. They looked from Jobin to Alekka in anticipation. To Alekka’s irritation, they ignored Micah altogether. But it was Micah who began.
“I think it is clear to all of us now that something has happened to Noz, and that he is not coming back. We have had no success in our research through his library. It’s been weeks. We need to try a different approach.” Alekka expected some exasperated and sarcastic comment from Leali or Tredon at this statement. Leali’s lips tightened, but stayed firmly shut. Tredon simply blinked.
