Gordon took another deep breath and plunged on. “We came here, but the teleportation was very hard on your mother. She…she went into labor too early and…things went wrong – I don’t understand that sort of thing. Your mother died within hours. Cisco was forced to take you from your mother’s belly, or all of our efforts would have been for nothing.”
Sean could only wince at that, but he kept on. “The treasure was the stones?” he asked.
“Yes. Many people can wield magic with varying degrees of strength and talent, but the royal family had the stones. With them, the king was unsurpassed. With those stones, he could watch over his people and protect them. We couldn’t allow Ludwyn to have control of them. He would use them for…for other things.”
“And this teleportation you mentioned?” continued Sean.
“Teleportation is air magic. Clayton was very strong in air magic; with the stone, coming here was simple.”
“So, it was my Uncle Clayton who died in that alley?” pressed Sean, wanting verbal confirmation.
Gordon sighed and scrutinized his fingernails. “Yes.”
Sean leaned forward and looked Gordon directly in the eyes. “Assuming that everything you’ve told me is true, tell me why I should go back. What is there for me – there? I know no one. No one there knows that I even exist. Hell, I could have been a girl. You tell me that I am the rightful king there. You tell me that I can use magic, but why should I? What’s wrong with this life?”
Gordon seemed to shrivel before Sean’s eyes, and his voice shook. “You must go back. You must destroy Ludwyn. You are the only person who can.”
“Why me? What’s so special about me?” asked Sean. He had already made his decision, but he wanted justification, and he wanted a little revenge.
Gordon reached across the table in an abortive gesture, his eyes pleading. “You are of the royal bloodline. You have the stones – all of them. You should be able to use all of them. Clayton tried once, but he didn’t have time to master them all together. The blood of Barleduc also runs in your veins. Barleduc is a branch of the royal family that has long been estranged from the ruling family. The White House of Healers fervently hoped that joining the two bloodlines once again would strengthen future generations’ control of the stones, and ensure the protection of the people.”
He rose and came around the coffee table to where Sean sat and dropped to his knees. “Please, you must save our people…your people. There is no telling what evil Ludwyn has been able to accomplish in the last seventeen years.” He pressed the blue stone back into Sean’s hand. “Use this – call Ferris and Cisco. Cisco can show you how to see that my words are true.”
Sean looked at the stone in his hand, then back at Gordon. “You didn’t say if you and Cisco were any relation to me and my family. Just how loyal are you? And just how mixed up in this is Mushovic?”
Gordon sat back on his heels. “Me? I was what I have always been, a librarian and a teacher. My father taught your father and his brothers. It was to fall to me to teach the next generation; you, Clayton’s children, even Ludwyn’s children, though I’m certain no woman would have anything to do with him. Unfortunately, Clayton’s wife was nowhere near when we left, and there was no time to retrieve her; and later, she refused to come. That left you – but even so, the only reason I am here is because we all happened to be in the library. And your Sword Master? Elias said once that he was a man born in the wrong time. I think he was born in the wrong place too, but him being there wouldn’t have changed anything. Him being there would only have deprived you of him here, as I’m sure he would have died there right along with your father and your grandfather. He has been a valuable asset to you, but he cannot be involved in this.”
“And Cisco?” prompted Sean.
“Cisco is…was a priestess of the White House of Healers; she was brought in as a midwife.”
“What is this White House of Healers?”
“White magic is inside…physical magic; it’s used for healing, mostly. The White House of Healers is where people take their injured. Cisco is what you would call a doctor here, except the Healers use magic instead of a scalpel most of the time.”
“Tell me more about Ludwyn.”
Gordon grimaced. “Like I said, he had an…appetite for torture and pain. It was bad enough when he…when he did what he did to animals, but when he turned to people, Lardeain had him locked away in a tower apartment; Ludwyn was his son. He was a royal prince. The king couldn’t bring himself to punish his son any further for his crimes. For almost ten years, Ludwyn was kept from magic.”
“And then everything went wrong,” continued Sean bitterly, then he went to the telephone and punched in the familiar number. When Ferris answered, he said, “Would you and Cisco please come up here? Gordon seems to think you can show me something.”
“Yes, my lord,” said Ferris, as if such orders had come from young Sean all his life.
Sean went to the window to look out over the city while he waited for them to arrive. The words ‘my lord’ echoed in his mind. Just over there, around the corner, was where his uncle had died. I didn’t even know I had an uncle – now I have two; one dead, and one who will surely want to kill me as soon as he learns of my existence, if he hasn’t already heard. Three people died to protect me and I didn’t even know I was being protected. Was it a bizarre series of accidents or is someone actively hunting me?
There was a knock at the door, interrupting Sean’s thoughts, but he let Gordon answer it. He listened as Gordon gave them a hasty explanation of what had transpired as he ushered them into the living room. Sean turned around when Cisco made a small sound; she was looking at what was lying on the coffee table. Ferris touched the hilt of the long sword briefly after he ushered Cisco to a chair.
Sean was suddenly in a very foul mood and his pent up pain lashed out. “All of you must have been very close. I’m sorry I missed out on that.” He spoke brutally, and Ferris winced. Unsatisfied, he choked on his foul mood and went to find something to eat.
After a quick sandwich and a glass of apple juice, he was slightly better company so he returned to the living room to face his parents’ best friends.
All six of the stones now lay on the coffee table in plain view. All but the black one and the white one were a translucent color that caught the eye. The other two were opaque, and Sean noticed that the eye slid away from them easily, making it difficult to notice any finer details.
Cisco rose from her seat and picked up the white stone. She motioned Sean to a seat on the couch, then sat down beside him. She took his hand, and laced their fingers together around the stone. “Think of what you wish to see. I will start this, but you will be the one seeing.”
“How can I know what I want to see when I have never seen it before?” asked Sean.
“Tell me and perhaps I can help,” Cisco said with an encouraging smile.
“I suppose…I suppose I should…I would like to see my uncle…what’s his name…Ludwyn?”
“Lord Ludwyn should be at the palace,” said Cisco. “We’ll start there.”
“How can I be sure this will be my vision and not just something you want me to see?” he asked. Her eyes are red. She must have been crying?
“This is a ‘seeing’, not a ‘dreaming’,” her eyes darted to the other stones on the table. “What you see is what is. You would be able to feel me, and perhaps even see me, if I was with you. Close your eyes.” She closed her eyes and Sean followed suit. He had the brief sensation of slumping back on the couch, but he had to catch himself as…
…he found himself standing in a huge stone room with a high, shadowed ceiling. Colonnades were spaced down both sides of the room in support of that faraway ceiling. Curtains on vast windows along the side waved gently in a breeze he didn’t feel. He looked around, seeing what could only be a throne at one end, but no one else was here and little else decorated the place. He turned to look at the rest of the room, but the move spun his head.
He closed his eyes and reached for the closest colonnade…
* * *
…and found wood under his fingers. He opened his eyes to see what looked like the inside of a barn, but it could have just as easily been another fine hall. More pillars marked off roomy stalls and more curtains fluttered in the same breeze, though the windows were smaller. Sean looked down the length of the center run, just to see if another throne stood there, but the run ended at a large chest or grain bin; he would have to go closer to tell which.
No horses poked their heads over their gates, so he looked into the closest stall and had to step back in horror. The horse standing there had eyes that were wide and red with…craze. Its face was stripped and bloody; its flanks and legs were too. The straw under his feet was testament to blood already shed. This horse would kill anything that moved because anything that moved caused it more pain.
Sean threw himself away from that vision…
* * *
…and found himself in a prosperous town square, or perhaps it would have been if bodies weren’t hanging from a gibbet and people weren’t lined up in chains or locked in stocks. The people he saw who weren’t so displayed darted quickly in going about their tasks, as if they desired not to be caught out in the open. Curious, he walked down a main street lined with shops. No one spoke with anyone else unless they had some business to conduct. No one strolled at leisure. There are no children. There are always children running and playing or going to school, they were always around – but not here. He turned to see if he’d missed them somewhere and…
* * *
…found himself walking along an empty dirt road, rutted from old use and partially grown over now. Small farmsteads could be seen on both sides of the road, but the fields were empty. I grew up in the big city; what do I know about farming? Surely, it isn’t too cold to start planting something – to start working the soil. He bent down to feel the dirt, but he couldn’t touch it. He tried again and found it cold, but not frozen; damp, but not muddy. He spotted some new grass growing along the road. If grass grows, crops should be growing too. He looked at the shell of a house. Blackened walls told of a long-ago fire.
He looked up at the blue sky. Did my uncle do this? How many people died here? His depressing thoughts were rewarded by rain. Rain would hide his tears. He had seen relatively little death, but he was getting so tired of it. I will not let Ludwyn cause another death.
* * *
Sean opened his eyes at the sudden absence of rain hitting his face, to find himself once again in the stables looking at the fine black stallion with the bloody nose and legs. He stepped into the stall. He reached out and touched the horse, brushing away his pain and wiping away his blood. Now, to find the man responsible for all this pain and blood. He turned, intending to find the palace, determined to search the place for the man who could do such a thing to such a beautiful creature, and found that…
* * *
…he didn’t have to search after all. He was once again standing in the stone hall where he had begun. This time, he saw a man sitting on the throne. His white hair brushed shoulders that looked oddly narrow and framed a face that seemed to have no color of its own – like stone – and his too-dark eyes were slitted and shifting, looking as though someone had used a Sharpie to draw them. Servants hurried about their duties under his glare.
A troop of guards came down the center of the hall hustling a cowering prisoner in chains between them.
The man on the throne spoke and Sean had to hear him. “…accused of lechery here in the palace, of all places. The girl is mine. You know the penalty.” His voice was harsh and gravelly.
The prisoner began to whimper a denial. Another guard brought in a young woman. They entered from somewhere behind the throne.
“If you tell me that you did not touch her, you will be guilty of lying,” said the man from his throne. “Which will it be, your manhood or your face?” He leaned forward, waiting avidly for a reply.
Sean could see the hunger in his eyes. He wants this. He will think of anything in order to cause pain and see blood.
The young woman sobbed; her guard was forced to hold her up.
The man on the throne reached out a clawed hand toward the prisoner and he curled in upon himself and began to scream. The guards stepped away and looked aside. Sean had never imagined that such a scream could come from a human.
I have to stop this. He stepped between them and the screams ended. He could hear the man behind him gasping and sobbing.
The man on the throne tried again, but when he could do nothing, he roared. “Take them away. I’ll deal with them later.”
Everything began to fade. Sean wanted to get the man out of there, but everything was growing dim, then dark
A New Way
Sean opened his eyes to find Gordon supporting his head and tipping some water to his lips. “Take it easy. Drink.”
He swallowed, then coughed. He tried to sit up, but found himself too weak to accomplish the deed. Lifting his hand took more strength than he could muster. “What happened?” he asked, and coughed again; his throat was dry as a bone – a very old bone.
“You took what was supposed to be just a viewing, and turned it into a joining,” said Ferris, from somewhere beyond his view. Something akin to awe was evident in his voice. “You not only did a joining, you did a major joining. I think you used every stone but fire. I’ve never seen such a thing before, not on the first try. What were you thinking?”
Gordon lay Sean on the couch and he closed his eyes as his feet were lifted up. “If there’s something I shouldn’t do,” he whispered, “perhaps you should explain it to me, so I don’t try it again. Explain it to me now, please. What happened?”
“You should rest,” said Cisco.
“I am resting. Tell me,” he insisted.
Ferris sighed with exasperation, but he tried to explain. “Until now, we have kept you away from the use of magic. No one here uses magic; I’m not even sure if anyone has any magic. We thought that to teach you earlier would have attracted too much attention; it is difficult for children to keep such a large thing secret. Now it appears that we have been found, so we can’t put it off any longer.”
“The stones, Ferris,” said Sean. “Tell me about the stones.”
“As I told you before, each stone focuses one element of magic. This is what you did that you should have put off until later: the light blue stone focuses air magic, with air magic you can have some control over things that air affects. Its most common use is to hear something.”
“I was listening to what…what Ludwyn was saying. He was…holding court, I think you might call it.”
Ferris continued while Cisco put a cool washcloth over Sean’s eyes. “The green stone focuses earth magic. I suspect you wanted to touch or move something.”
“The ground,” offered Sean. “I wanted to see why nothing had been planted yet. I wanted to see if the ground was still frozen.”
“The dark blue stone primarily focuses water. What did you do that involved water?”
“It started to rain. Did I make it rain?”
Ferris continued after an almost imperceptible pause. “You were already using white magic to see. That leaves black magic. Black magic is like white magic – internal – physical – but it can be tricky to control. It comes easiest when you are angry; did you try to control some creature?”
“I think I must have been angry,” said Sean. “There was a horse…all bloody…insane with pain. I healed him, that’s white magic too, I think…and a man…screaming.” Sean was so tired. “I stopped…him…from…hurting…” he felt like he was turning to liquid and seeping into the cushions of the couch “…anymore…” Voices stopped making sense after that, as his awareness spiraled into darkness.
Sean must have slept for hours, but the rag over his face was still cool. He moved his hand, and in doing so, felt like he had accomplished something profound. He pulled the rag from his face and looked a
round. The windows weren’t so dark anymore. A light came from behind the couch, from the direction of the kitchen. Sean pushed the laden blanket away and used the back of the couch to pull himself up. Gordon had fallen asleep in the chair. Dad used to sit there.
Sean pushed himself to his feet and wove his way toward the light – toward the kitchen – on unsteady legs, squinting at the too-bright light. He saw Ferris and Cisco sitting at the table with steaming cups in front of them. A few steps closer and he saw two more people sitting at the table across from them.
He reached the closest chair, gripping its back for much needed stability, and stared at the two newcomers. It took him an inordinate amount of time to recognize them – something was wrong. The details started to fall together like heavy, iron puzzle pieces clanking into place. They were his best friends from school. They were bound to the chairs they were sitting in with wide black straps. They were gagged for silence with something similar, though not as wide. The green stone was resting quietly in the center of the table.
Tall, blond Larry was well on his way to being the star basketball player, though he was only a junior in high school. He and Sean had become friends one summer during fencing lessons, but Larry had been forced to quit because his parents couldn’t afford them. They remained close friends anyway, and could be seen crossing sticks almost anywhere. Larry and his girlfriend, Jenny, always came to the tournaments to cheer for Sean. Larry’s face was red now and veins stood out in his neck. His blue eyes were bloodshot with fury, and perhaps with fear as well.
The Making of a Mage King: Prince in Hiding Page 2
