After The Rabbit (Waldo Rabbit Series)

by Chereta, Nelson

  Melissa had realized what he had done, but it had not helped. Even being aware it was an illusion, she had not been able to fight her feelings of love. She had willingly handed him her wand, purse, and spellbook. Melissa had stood there and waved as he escaped the city with his wife and newly purchased ogre.

  Now it was the following morning, and she was in her quarters in the Baron’s palace in Middleton. She was without funds and without her wand or spellbook. Fortunately, she still had a number of spells memorized. A member of the Order of Mist was never truly alone. Melissa bolted the door. She had already informed the palace staff that she would be spending the entire day in meditation and was not to be disturbed for any reason, including meals.

  Standing in the center of the room, Melissa breathed slowly and readied herself. The deeper magics could be very difficult some times. She concentrated on the incantation as well as on the hand gestures. The more complex the spell, the easier it was to make a mistake, and the more dangerous mistakes could be.

  When she was at last certain, she raised both hands with thumbs and forefingers pressed to palms. She began to move them in an intricate pattern as she spoke her spell.

  “Avarnos est lidado ibi loco esto sempre ako notarmos loco deste.”

  The instant the last syllable was spoken and her hands completed the final gesture, she felt the mana torn from her body. Before her eyes the room was ripped away. The world was gone, and she was staring into the void. For just this moment, she existed outside of time and space. She was not moving, rather all of creation was moving around her. If you had the ability, and knew the right spells, you could twist the universe into whatever shape you liked.

  Surely, this is what it feels like to be a god, Melissa thought. It was blasphemous, but she couldn’t keep herself from thinking it.

  As quickly as it had gone, the world snapped back into existence around her. There was ground beneath her feet, and the smell of grass and dampness filled the air. It had been morning, but now it was pitch black. Overhead was the moon and the starry sky. All around her in the darkness were the twisted forms of soulwood trees.

  She was home again. She had returned to the nation of Avalon.

  Her legs trembled, and she stumbled back. Her back struck a tree trunk. Otherwise, she would have fallen to the ground. Melissa’s heart was pounding, and her breath was coming out in ragged gasps. Her whole body was trembling. It was as if she had just gone ten miles at a full run.

  “Good,” she said between breaths. “It’s good to be reminded that I am only mortal.”

  The teleportation spell had taken her three thousand miles in the blink of an eye. Doing so had drained most of the mana from her body and left her physically exhausted. She would need a meal and several hours rest to be able to cast it again and return to Middleton.

  Through magic almost anything was possible, but there were always limits, and there was always a price. For instance, teleportation was only possible if the location was already know to you. It had to be a place you had actually been to before. It was impossible to teleport to a place you had never visited. The spell also demanded a great deal of mana, requiring more the further you wanted to travel. Mana was the magical energy used to work spells and wards and potions. Every being who could use magic had a certain amount of mana within them.

  So long as you stayed well within your limit, there was usually no issue. As with physical exhaustion, you could recover lost mana naturally with rest and sleep. Use up too much at once, and you would feel the effects. Your body weakened, and you felt weary, just as though you’d run for a long distance or spent hours at a strenuous task. You might be unable to work other spells, and it was possible to lose consciousness and be unable to wake for hours.

  Mages who used too much mana constantly risked damaging their bodies and shortening their lifespans. Go past the body’s limit and death was a real possibility.

  Melissa pressed her back to the snow white tree. Her legs quivered, and she had to make an effort just to remain on her feet. Melissa shut her eyes and just breathed.

  It always does this to me. It always takes near everything I have.

  It was humbling, but perhaps all magic users needed to be humbled now and again.

  XXX

  It took about twenty minutes before she felt strong enough to stand on her own. Putting one foot in front of the other, she slowly began to exit the grove. Though it was nighttime, she was able to cautiously navigate her way through the trees. She needed to duck a couple times to avoid some of the low lying branches. She caught her foot on a root hidden by the thick grass.

  The soulwoods were important symbols to Melissa and members of her Order. According to legend, they held the souls of mages who had been killed during the Shattering. The anguished faces made from knots in the wood and the twisted and deformed shape of the trees themselves were said to be because of all the evil that plagued the world. One day, when the world was purified, the trees would grow tall and straight without a single deformity.

  Until that day they would be a constant reminder of their noble struggle.

  XXX

  The grove was located about three miles from the capital. For reasons of security, no one was permitted to teleport directly into the city. As she made her way cautiously along the road, Melissa could make out the humble cottages that lined the way. Simple homes constructed of wood and straw. Each one was neatly kept with a small garden out in front. The residents were all yeoman farm families, who owned their own small plots of land and lived tranquil lives.

  Melissa could have walked up to any one of those homes and likely found the door unlocked.

  The thought made Melissa hold her head up a bit higher despite her weariness. Avalon was paradise on earth. All the monsters had been hunted to extinction centuries before. There were no bandits and virtually no crime; the penalties were harsh and ruthlessly enforced. The local nobility followed a strict code of chivalry, and served, “The One We Follow.” Nobles acted as the local magistrates and authorities but were not permitted to abuse their positions. They were held even more strictly to account than the people were. Unlike most of the world, here in Avalon there really was only one law, and all men and women were equal before it.

  In the Misty Isle, people could live without fear.

  The nations of the Alliance were not quite so tranquil. They still had banditry and crime. Many of their rulers only paid lip service to the idea of equality before the law. But at least their lands were no longer infested by monsters. Year by year and generation by generation, the Alliance states would become more and more like Avalon.

  It doesn’t matter how slow the progress is, Melissa thought. No matter how many lifetimes it takes, we will succeed.

  Her travels had shown her how corrupt most of the world was. Good, decent, hardworking people were forced to live in perpetual fear. Not only from monsters but from criminals and from lords who cared more about fleecing them than about protecting them. The more she saw of the world, the more certain she became of the righteousness of her cause. The land cried out for Unity, Justice, and Peace.

  XXX

  By the time she arrived at the outskirts of the capital dawn was breaking, and the city was stirring awake.

  Simple wood framed homes and shops pressed together around a tangle of roads and streets. The city had been no more than a village back before the Shattering. Over the last two thousand years it had grown organically. The main thoroughfares had cobblestones, but most of the roads were still dirt. The city blocks were of different sizes, the streets twisted and curved, and the businesses were scattered about.

  Camelot could be a confusing place to those not familiar with it.

  At the very heart of the city was the ancient castle that had given this place its name. Long ago, after the world had been shattered and fallen into chaos, a great king had fought and unified the lands of this isle. He was the first to serve The One We Follow and to espouse the philosophy of Unity, Justice,
and Peace. The castle was his seat and the home of his royal court. When Avalon became a single nation, it became the capitol.

  The castle itself was impressive. Its outer wall was fifty feet high and twenty feet thick, with walkways and battlements running all along its four sides. Go through its single gate, and you would find a small courtyard and a great citadel. The citadel was actually no less than five separate buildings, all connected by covered walkways. The central and oldest building was a modest three story fortress. It was simply a solid block of granite with a basic design. Two of the other buildings were towers, each rising more than a hundred feet and going far above the outer wall. The towers were wide at the base and grew progressively smaller, with both ending in pointed rooftops of polished bronze. The remaining two buildings were squat and bulky by comparison. They had enormous archways and ribbed vaults, as well as carved statues and vast panes of stained glass. The towers gave one a sense of freedom and possibility, whereas the cathedrals were meant to humble and awe. All the buildings were interconnected; you could enter any one and then visit all the rest without having to ever step outside.

  The ancient castle was the home of the three orders that ruled Avalon in the name of The One We Follow. The Order of Mist, which Melissa belonged to, was based within the two towers. The Order of Virtue, to which every knight and nobleman was a member, controlled one of the cathedrals. The Order of the Faithful, made up of the priests and clergy, held the other cathedral. The original Citadel was shared by all three.

  The orders were united by their faith and the desire to bring salvation to the rest of the world. They did frequently disagree as to the best method. These little differences were always kept quiet. To both the faithful and the wicked, Avalon would always appear united and strong.

  XXX

  Walking through the streets of Camelot, folk were only beginning to come out. Everyone Melissa saw had eyes of yellow. The shades ranged from gold to ripe wheat to honey. It was physical proof that they were all one people.

  When they spotted her, no one tried to keep their distance. There were no fearful stares. They all smiled and waved to her.

  “Blessings,” people called out.

  “Blessings unto you, as well,” Melissa answered.

  Children ran to her. A couple of little girls gave her daisies which she happily accepted. In Camelot and the rest of Avalon, White Mages were seen as benevolent guardians. They maintained the peace and enforced the laws. They healed the sick and made the rains fall. They kept the protective mists about the island that only allowed those who had been invited to pass through. They enforced order, both in nature and in society. The people trusted them, as children should trust their parents.

  It had been a long time since she had felt so welcomed.

  Eventually she arrived at the heart of the city and was passed through the gate into the castle. Melissa went directly to the Tower of the Moon. Within, fellow mages, acolytes, and servants all politely greeted her as they went about their daily routines. She went to the fifth floor where the Great Library was. It actually took up the fifth through the ninth floors. As Melissa had known he would be, Minister Barrows was there. He was not only a Minister but also held the position of Keeper of Knowledge, which made him responsible not only for the books and tomes of the library, but also for the agents set out to gather information.

  In less civilized nations, he might have been called a spymaster.

  As soon as he spotted her, his golden eyes widened. He gave no other sign of being startled, though.

  “Mistress Cornwall,” he said in a perfectly neutral voice. “I had not expected your return for another three years. May I ask you what brings you home so suddenly?”

  Melissa curtsied to him. “Minister Barrows, I am afraid I am in need of aid.”

  “The Order will always take care of its own. What assistance do you require?”

  She chewed the inside of her cheeks, then forced herself to look him in the eye as she spoke. “I have lost my spellbook, my wand, and all my gold.”

  Melissa stood there, head up and back straight, ready to accept whatever lecture he chose to give her. For a mage to lose her spellbook and her wand was not merely humiliating, it smacked of gross incompetence.

  Instead he simply gave a slight nod. “I will draw funds from the treasury and provide you a virgin wand. I can have the scribes copy more advanced spells and add them to an acolyte’s spellbook. I am familiar with your abilities and can guess the spells most useful to you.”

  She felt relief that he was not asking her the reason she found herself in these circumstances.

  “I look forward to reading your report on your most recent activities. I expect it to be in my hands before you depart, of course.”

  There was a sour taste in her mouth. “Yes, Minister.”

  “Tell me, did you succeed with recruiting the mage Roger from Bittford?”

  “No, Minister, and I am afraid I will have to set that aside for the time being. There is something far more important which requires all my efforts.”

  Barrows raised an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”

  “I am going on a rabbit hunt.”

  Chapter 3

  Politics as Usual

  It was early morning, and Lilith was in one of the vacant rooms near the top of the south tower.

  “Incorpus.”

  With a single word of magic, she summoned one of her creations. On the stone window sill was a black bird with empty eye sockets. It stared at her lifelessly, patiently awaiting its master’s command.

  Lilith placed a single finger atop the thing’s head.

  “I have transferred the necessary funds and made them available to you. Make the purchases that you require. I wish you every success in your noble endeavor.” She withdrew the finger and made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go. Deliver the message.”

  The bird hopped about and spread its wings. It took off and was quickly lost in the charcoal skies. It would not stop until it had reached its intended recipient. The creature would speak the words in its master’s voice and then disintegrate and turn to ash. If, for whatever reason, it were captured or brought down before reaching its target, it would destroy itself. For delivering messages to non-magic users, her little pets were ideal.

  One more small step.

  If any of the other families discovered what she was doing, they would turn on her. No doubt they would believe she had gone mad. For these endeavors secrecy was absolutely vital. Even Hera and Enver had no idea what she was about. The only other person who knew her plans was Gwendolyn, and being a ghost, her daughter was unlikely to share her secrets.

  Well, not unless she got too bored.

  The task complete Lilith headed downstairs to go to breakfast.

  XXX

  In the grand dining hall was a single extended table. There were forty chairs, all evenly spaced along both sides. Only four of them had place settings; one lay at the very head of the table, one to the immediate right, and two to the left. The space to the right would remain empty, the plate, goblet, utensils, and napkins would be left untouched until the servants cleared them away.

  In the first seat to the left was a zombie in tattered black robes. There was no plate or goblet or utensils in front of it, merely a silver tray. It fidgeted, and the clawed fingertips of its right hand drummed on the table. As Lilith strode across the hall, its milky white eyes locked on and followed her.

  In the second seat was a young woman with a hideous nose. She wore a cream colored blouse and skirt made of silk, with embroidery in gold thread. The girl was leaned back with her hands folded on her lap.

  “I hope I did not keep you waiting too long.” Lilith motioned to the servants as she took her place at the head of the table. They bowed in acknowledgement and hurried into the kitchen to fetch the food that was already prepared.

  “Not at all,” her apprentice Hera said. Her son Walter, the zombie, gave a grunt. Hera sent him a sharp look but
said nothing.

  Lilith pretended not to notice. She had spent an hour last night reattaching one of Walter’s arms following his “introduction” to Hera. He had demanded over and over again that Hera be punished for attacking him.

  “I want her dead! I want her dead!” he’d shrilled like some spoiled child.

  Lilith had answered him with a single sentence. “If you kill her I will not punish you.”

  That had finally silenced him.

  The servants brought out bowls and trays filled with fresh bread, fruit, wheat cakes, eggs, and slices of meat. One of them served a chicken, not pieces or a whole cooked chicken. The bird had only recently been strangled and was still whole, it had not even been plucked. The servant placed the fowl down on the tray in front of Walter.