by Inelia Benz
“Don’t cut me off yet, when are you coming back? Where are you? And why did you tell your solicitor that Heather was yours?”
“I guess there is no point me hanging around here now, but I have a problem being near you.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”
Yes, he had declared himself to her; it was too late to take it back now. He would have to live with it.
“I’ll meet you in Skerries,” he said, “don’t go back to Heather, the Shadow have a fix on you now and going back will only put her in danger.”
“I’ll see you soon then?” she asked.
“Yes, soon.”
He cut the connection and smiled, he felt happy, very happy. He didn’t remember feeling this happy ever. He opened the window wide and breathed the hot clammy July air, the birds were singing, the city was awake, he’d get ready and go down for some breakfast, then straight to the airport.
“I don’t think I have ever seen you this happy Owen, what are you up to?”
He was startled at the voice behind him, he hadn’t heard anyone come in, but he could recognize that rasping voice anywhere.
“Great Rossini,” he said, turning around, “it is a great honor.”
The old man sat on the only chair in the room and rested his gold tipped staff beside him, he locked his large muscular hands in front of his chest and stared at Owen like a lion stares at his next meal.
Owen looked at the top end of the Staff. It had a golden claw holding a blue crystal ball which seemed to have a light of its own. The Staff.
His mind went into overdrive. There, right in front of him, was the object of his desire. The only goal and dream he had had for millennia.
Rossini was a great deal older than Owen. He had held the Staff before Owen had even been conceived and knew that look, he had seen it in hundreds of Council Elders.
But he wasn’t concerned about that look, not from Owen, or from anyone else for that matter. Rossini had gained quite a reputation in his younger days. He had been named God of War by at least two early Mediterranean cultures, something he had believed himself to be until he met the Council of Elders. A good battle didn’t worry him in the least.
As soon as Rossini had seen Joitan, the weak old man who was Staff Holder before him, he knew the Staff would one day belong to him. He had always suspected the old Staff Holder knew this as well, for he had supervised Rossini’s training from the start, something which had surprised Rossini at the time, Joitan was known for his cruelness and self-serving nature. Many had suspected him to be a follower of Shadow.
Owen sat and waited patiently for Rossini’s next move, he was a good boy, thought Rossini. At least now he looked the age he truly was, it happened to all mages, sooner or later they would settle down to their true age.
Owen shifted position, was about to speak, but Rossini stared him into silence. He still wasn’t sure about Owen, he had never been sure. Too immature, too superficial, not intelligent enough, but his perseverance had made up for it.
Now there was something else, an inner power Rossini hadn’t seen before. Owen radiated it and was strong enough to make Rossini curious. It made Rossini wonder if the time was upon him, but the thought didn’t last long.
The funny thing was that Owen was completely unaware of it, completely blind to his own growth. Amazing. "Well, a sense of inner knowledge was never Owen’s strong point," thought Rossini. "In fact it was his weakness." “Know thyself,” had been the first thing Rossini had learned in his own quest.
“You have changed,” Rossini stated.
“Yes, I know,” Owen said, the Staff had taken him by surprise, he didn’t often meet Rossini in person, but he had things to do elsewhere, he wanted to get away, go back to Jennifer, he needed to supervise things personally.
“What has changed you?”
“Well, you see, Great Rossini, it’s like this,” he began and stared out of the window, he was too high to jump out, with Rossini around there were no guarantees he would be able to manipulate the laws of physics to make a soft landing.
“Yes?”
“Well, I have no interest in the Staff at this time, I know you knew I was after the Staff, but things have changed now, I have to keep a promise to my adoptive mother, the Witch, their way is very particular and as her eldest son I have to keep my word.”
“And this promise, does it have anything to do with a special initiation? An introduction to a new kind of magic?”
“I… no, I don’t think so,” he wasn’t thinking straight. It was possible the Great Rossini was attempting to Borrow deeper than was allowed. If he succeeds he would have knowledge of Jennifer’s baby true nature and would know his plan.
“Your mind Owen, is a mismatch of messages, are you being truthful?”
“Yes, I am Great Rossini. I would never try to deceive you.”
Rossini waited patiently, watching Owen fight an inner struggle that unsettled him no end. Owen leaned his head down in a sign of respect.
“Tell me about this promise Owen.”
“In the Witches Way there is a return of gratitude, a way to pay back a great good. My immortal mother adopted me at a time when my country was going through a theological revolution, a difficult time for the Old Ones. She had great difficulties keeping me safe from the dangers we all faced in those dark centuries. Now it is my turn to adopt a child, a mage child.” Owen hesitated. Putting things into words sometimes had a way of clearing up his own confusion.
“Except in my case there are two of them, I have to protect and nurture two mage children, it is a difficult job.”
“And?”
“And I have become bonded to one of them.”
Owen knew what embarrassment was, but had never felt it burning his body like it was now. For a member of the Council of Elders to openly admit he or she was bonded to another being was a great failing. Depending on how they handled it, bonding could be considered an expelling offence for a Council Member. Owen was taking a calculated risk. More than one Council member had gotten away with being bonded. They grew out of it and were allowed to stay in the Council. Yet keeping it secret and being found out meant immediate expulsion.
“Ah,” said Rossini, so that was it, he thought. Love.
Rossini was proud of his sense of timing, his sense of identifying approaching danger. It was impeccable.
“And, is this love reciprocal?”
“No,” Owen said, his shoulders dropping visibly, “she doesn’t love me, but maybe sometime in the future she might,” he added looking up.
“And this refusal, this rejection, it doesn’t bother you?”
“I want her happiness more than anything in the world. I don’t care if it comes about without me. Although if I lose her forever then I don’t know if I will care to continue living myself.”
“See, this is why bonding is discouraged Owen,” Rossini said getting up from the chair, staff under his arm, “bonding can destroy the strongest mage, it can take away his ambition, take away his aim in life, it can be a good leverage for the Shadow to strike. It is truly a destructive and dangerous disease. You must find a cure. Don’t be fooled Owen, this feeling of bonding is not a natural occurrence, it is imposed. Someone has done this to you.”
Owen thought he would skip breakfast and go straight to the airport, if he hurried he might be in time to get that evening’s London flight.
Rossini felt Owen absence of mind and decided he had to take charge of the situation. He had always suspected Owen would be the next Staff Challenger, and had wondered how this would come about, waiting, disappointed at Owen’s lack of skills. There was nothing like a good battle and no one had challenged him since the time of Stellar, she was good, the battle had lasted five decades, then she vanished, leaving him empty.
But battling against this type of power was not Rossini’s strength, if Owen realized what he had in his hands Rossini wouldn’t last the year. He had to destroy it before Owen became aware of it.
As soon as Rossini had identified his own weakness he had outlawed bonding in the Council. Love was for mortals, it was too dangerous a weapon for a mage to wield.
“You have to come with me Owen,” said Rossini, but as he pronounced those words he felt a surge of power grow around Owen, he was close to awareness, “as you know the Council of Elders does not allow this kind of behavior, it is part of the Oath, you have to answer to the Council, Owen.”
Yes, this had disarmed Owen immediately, Oaths and promises were very important to the young man, belonging was important.
“My body needs to be nourished,” Owen said. He needed time to think.
For a moment there, when the Great Rossini had mentioned keeping him from going to Jennifer, Owen had felt almost strong enough to defeat him. He felt as though he would be able to take the Staff with just a wish, just one word. But then it was gone, good job too, he thought, it wasn’t a good time for him to lose his powers, which was the inevitable result of a failed Staff Challenge. No, he wouldn’t be challenging the Great Rossini for the Staff until he was ready and that time had not yet come.
“Dinner is served… Oh, if Señor had told me we had company… I will make immediate arrangements,” said Raul and left in a hurry.
“If you will do me the honor to dine at my table?”
The Great Rossini bowed in acceptance and followed the young mage down the stairs to the dining room.
They ate in silence, the Great Rossini going through the entire menu Raul had to offer, which was good. He was slightly taller than Owen, but his frame was large and muscular, which made him look like a giant.
Owen had heard that The Great Rossini had been a military leader in several mortal wars, moving around the world looking for action before being initiated into the Council. Next to him Owen felt thin and weak, something he was not. A lot of it had to do with faith. As Owen believed himself to be weaker, the actual belief made him weaker. Yet believing himself to be stronger didn’t necessarily make him stronger. They both had to believe it for it to work, reality among mages was based on mutual agreement. Whatever they agreed was true, was real.
Owen began to think in terms of his membership to the Council, if his mind had been working properly he wouldn’t have placed himself in such a precarious position, an inquisition by the Council could conceivably last years, he would have to prove that the bonding was not deep, that he had overcome it. But how?
This was ridiculous, thought Owen. What was the big deal about mages bonding anyway? Witches didn’t think anything of it. In fact he was sure they actively encouraged it. The Great Rossini was looking at him now, looking at him as if looking at a ticking bomb. The Great Rossini was on edge, thought Owen. What was making a man like The Great Rossini go on alert like this? Why had he come to see him personally?
Owen had changed his pattern of behavior; this is how The Great Rossini kept an eye on the possible Staff Challengers. He watched to see if they changed their patterns.
Owen had changed patterns in a way that made The Great Rossini nervous. But what had changed? Owen wondered. He didn’t feel changed. Was it his new ability to merge into the nature of things? His new ability to see life?
He had become younger than ever before, that was a change, he thought. He was bonded, more a weakness than a change.
That must be it, thought Owen, he was weak now, The Great Rossini could squash him out of existence in no time at all, could have him expelled from the Council for breaking his Oath.
Suddenly Owen had a new thought, get rid of the competition before they even challenge, that was Rossini’s plan and he, Owen, had fallen right into it by admitting having broken the Oath.
There was only one way to stop The Great Rossini from taking him in front of Council inquisition at this time, Owen had to formally become The Staff Challenger, then no Council member could accuse him of breaking his Oath, or anything else for that matter. He would be untouchable, and free, for a while at least.
Challenging The Great Rossini now was a guaranteed defeat. He would lose the Staff. He would lose his powers and maybe even his life. The only thing he would gain would be time, if he played his cards right it would buy him enough time to carry out his plan.
The Challenge would have to be formally declared, the battle zone formally chosen, this could buy him two or three months, enough time to help Jennifer with the Shadow Ones, enough time to teach her how to survive, how to stay out of the Other’s way, and enough time to bring his plan to fruition.
If his plan worked out he would be able to get his hands on the Staff without even having to Challenge Rossini.
No, he hadn’t changed that much after all.
It was a calculated risk. One he wouldn’t have had to take if the Great Rossini hadn’t turned up.
The Great Rossini drank the last cup of coffee and burped, he was finished.
Owen tensed up, if he Challenged he might gain a few months, but if he didn’t gain enough time he would lose everything afterwards.
Calculated risk, he thought.
He stood up, took the formal stand and opened his life and mind to the Council Members in all the worlds.
The Great Rossini stared at him in amazement.
“I Eoghan Uí Néill,” Owen said pronouncing his birth name, “challenge the Holder of the Staff on this the 16th Day of the seventh month of the Age of the World 7201,”
The Great Rossini sat back, he was in his right to know the true reasons behind the Challenge, more than once Council Elders had challenged for reasons other than the Staff, and if this was the case the Challenge was illegal.
Rossini knew this was the case, Owen was not displaying any of his new power, he was still unaware of it, there must be another reason, if he could get to it, then he would be spared the Challenge and have a chance to squash the power out of Owen before he became aware of it. He had to know what had made Owen take such drastic action. If he asked directly, Owen would have an explanation, but not necessarily the right one.
“Why are you doing this Owen, you know you are not ready,” said Rossini, informally, away from Council minds.
“I cannot let you take me to be questioned by the Council at this particular time Great Rossini. I have weighed things in my mind and feel the promise made to my adoptive mother is of greater weight to the Oath. I need to protect my adoptive mage children at this time, the Shadow are after them for reasons unbeknown to me. I have no intentions of breaking my Oath to the Council and will humbly submit myself to them when this crisis is over. If this is not possible then all I can do is become Staff Holder and change the rules that forces me to be subjected to Council inquisition at this time.”
Very well put, thought Rossini, a reason to challenge for the Staff. One thing he was sure about, Owen’s bonding to a young mage in danger was making him uninterested in the Staff, which meant there was little or no danger of him using his power against Rossini. Yet it gave Rossini a great opportunity to find out how to gain that power. If he was able to observe Owen he might be able to fathom a way to absorb the power, learn how to get it.
“I accept your reasons as legal Owen. The promise to your adoptive mother was made before the Oath and therefore takes precedence over it. I cannot accept your Challenge at this time as it would violate a mage Oath,” he said making the last sentence audible to the Council Member’s minds, which closed immediately. The word of the Staff Holder was, after all, final.
There was a risk involved and Rossini knew it. By letting Owen go it would give the younger man time to become aware of his new power. Yet the risk was less than accepting the challenge now, Owen was more likely to become aware of his power during battle than out of it.
The risk also meant opportunity. Rossini had a military strategists mind; every move meant a new opportunity. What this turn of events meant was a chance to learn how to gain that power himself, which would mean no weakness, no way anyone could successfully challenge him. If he didn’t manage to learn how to harne
ss that power he was unworthy of the Staff. Time to retire. "That was okay," thought The Great Rossini, he was getting bored of sameness.
There was one more thing to do, he would be unable to Borrow into Owen’s mind, or the mind of anyone around him, without Owen finding out, yet he had to observe him.
“Owen, your condition and your present situation intrigues me, I will accompany you so I can observe you,” he said.
Owen nodded. The Great Rossini had surprised him. His reaction was completely unorthodox, very unusual, out of pattern. He was up to something. It didn’t matter, thought Owen, there was absolutely no way Rossini could find out what his plan was, and not having to carry out the challenge was a great weight off his shoulders. Whatever Rossini was up to would come to light sooner or later. Hopefully much later.
A few hours later they were on their way to the airport.
Rossini liked elegant clothes, but being a warrior by nature seemed to squeeze any elegance out of the most fashionable attire, making it look more like a uniform than any uniform conceived by man.
As they walked into the airport the police saluted, he was allowed to bypass the customs check, something that Owen was always subjected to. As they waited for their flight in the VIP lounge, the head of security came over to greet Rossini personally, and allowed him to board the plane before any of the other, surprised, VIPs.
Owen dragged behind, holding their hand luggage, unused to being completely ignored by everyone, including every woman they passed by. They seemed hypnotized by Rossini’s presence. The flight was a nightmare, the female hostesses dropping trays, giggling and one of them actually fainting while walking past him, the male ones walking straight as soldiers and trying to follow his orders to the letter.
The pilot, a woman in her thirties, left the cockpit to personally salute him and wish him a good trip to her country. Rossini shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Owen stared at the pilot and then at Rossini. Rossini accepted her salute and took her dossier. She was actually asking him for a job.
“Where I come from women tended the fields,” said Rossini, “now it’s a huge confusing mess.”
