They all wanted to hear about Brinley’s story next, and she told it in full, only leaving out the part where she had saved her mother in the naptrap. That, she thought, would remain secret for a while.
Brinley lost track of the conversation for a while after that. They were speaking of people and places that were not familiar to her. Then they began to speak of the idris. “We all know where they must have come from,” the king was saying, “but how did they get here?” Remy was a short, solid man of even temper. His captains seem to have the utmost respect for him, as did Archibald. He sat beside Hugo, directly across from her in the circle of chairs.
Hugo nodded. “They could only have come from the Ire. How they made it here is the question.”
Animus stirred in his seat. “Days ago,” he began, “I followed an idris across the sixth bridge to the Wizard’s Ire.”
The soldiers stirred. “I received no such report,” one said.
Another protested, “That is impossible. The bridge is too well guarded.”
“We were not seen,” Animus explained. “I, too, thought that it was impossible, until I did it.”
The king waved a hand. “You and an idris are one thing,” he said. “What may be coming out next is what concerns me.”
Several heads nodded in agreement. Animus spoke up next. “This merits an investigation, to be sure. If the bridge has somehow become passable, then it is possible—however unlikely—that Shael may make the crossing.”
Nobody spoke.
After a moment, the king cleared his throat. “We will investigate. Perhaps you will consent to go with me to the bridge, Animus, and we can look into this problem together.”
Animus nodded. “The question of how creatures from the Ire crossed over should be our first priority,” he said, “but there is still the matter of the March Witch. She, for one, got away.”
The discussion seemed to go on for hours. Some of what they said was important, some seemed to have little to do with her. At length, Animus whispered something to the king and escorted her from the room.
“I needed a little break,” he admitted, “and there is a pressing matter to attend to.”
“What?”
“You will see.” He led her to a set of lavish rooms, his assigned guest quarters, she assumed. “I’ve hid them in here,” he said quietly as they entered. “It is not good for people to see them like this.”
Brinley gasped. Sitting in a set of high-backed chairs were a pair of men that she recognized only because of the clothes they wore. Belterras was thin and pale. His smile was warm with enthusiasm, but his face looked sickly. Cassis looked next to death. “Oh my!” she exclaimed, running to them. How had she forgotten about them? How long had they been waiting here in this room? She laid her hands on them each in turn, whispering in their ears, and their power returned.
Belterras was visibly altered right away. He wasn’t his jovial self yet, but he looked much healthier, and his smile was heartier.
As their power returned, Brinley felt lighter. Animus was visibly relieved as well.
“Why does that happen?” she asked.
“Why does what happen?” Animus said.
“I feel lighter. I feel the weight lifted from me, now that Belterras and Cassis have their power back.”
Animus nodded. “It feels the same for me. The power that the mages hold, the energy of the elements, it is all the same energy. You felt all of it, held all of it at once, did you not?”
“Yes,” she said, “but they all felt different too, and there are different mages.”
“We all carry our share,” Belterras chimed in.
“But it is all the same weight,” Cassis finished.
Comprehension dawned on Brinley. “Like oxen,” she said.
“Pardon?” Belterras asked.
“It’s something my dad told me…I mean, it’s like the mages all pull the same cart, but they are all responsible for their own portion—the different elements of existence.”
Belterras nodded slowly. “I suppose that works, yes.”
“And when one of you loses your power, the others have to pick up the slack. The cart still has to be pulled.”
“True,” Cassis said. “However, one mage can never fully do another mage’s job. For example, since Lignumis has disappeared, we have been able to sustain the life of the trees that now stand, but are unable to grow any new ones.”
Brinley sighed deeply. It felt good to understand more about this. The mages were her responsibility now, and it was important that she learned as much about them as she could. “I suppose we will have to find Lignumis, then,” she said. “And the others.”
Animus smiled approvingly. “There is much to learn,” he said. “The power connects us, to each other and to you, but we have been unable to feel the lost mages since they disappeared. It is very likely that we will be of little help to you in the search for them. We have made no progress on our own.”
“I’m sure you will be very helpful,” she said reassuringly. She could feel them too, she realized suddenly. She could feel them standing there, even if she closed her eyes. She was connected to them.
“You feel us, and we feel you,” Belterras said, as if reading her mind.
“You feel different than your mother did,” Cassis said. “More…pleasant,” he said awkwardly. “At any rate, thank you for restoring our power.”
Belterras was less formal. He swept her up in a bear hug and began to tell her of all the things he would cook for her when she came to visit, and all the stories he needed to tell her.
“But not yet, Belterras,” Cassis said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Now we have work to do.”
Belterras nodded. He addressed Brinley. “We are going to find out how the creatures made it here from the Ire.”
Animus nodded. “I am accompanying Captain Mark to investigate the bridge.”
“Then we will start elsewhere,” Cassis said.
“Tomorrow,” Brinley urged them. “No offense, but you look terrible.”
Cassis gave a half smile, and Belterras laughed out loud. “Right you are. You sound just like your mother. Very well. Anyway, I have something else to do tonight.”
“What?” Brinley wanted to know.
“Well,” he said, “now that I’m back to my normal self, I have a mystery to solve.” He went on to tell a story about the battle. Evidently they had watched it from the castle, too weak to participate.
“We would have fought anyway,” Cassis said sourly, “but he locked us in here.”
Animus smiled.
Belterras cleared his throat. “As I was saying, all sorts of animals came to help fight for our side as well. Bears and lions and foxes…and birds.” He touched the side of his nose. “I knew all the birds, except for one. A big black swan.”
Cassis sighed loudly. “Not this again.”
“I didn’t recognize her! I didn’t know her! Just looking at her made me feel woozy…”
Cassis rolled his eyes. “You’re always woozy.”
“It was strange, that’s all. And I intend to get to the bottom of it. I’m not as tired as I look.”
Brinley laughed and bid them good night.
“I look forward to serving with you,” Cassis said formally.
Belterras hugged her again.
***
Brinley tried to sleep that night as well, but without success. She had been given the Magemother’s chambers, which she supposed was appropriate. However, as she looked around the room in the half-darkness she couldn’t help but think of her mother. This had been her room. She got out of bed and donned a fluffy bathrobe that hung nearby, reveling in the softness of it. She wondered if that had belonged to her mother as well. Maybe it did. Or maybe there was a closet full of fluffy bathrobes in the basement and they always brought them out for guests. She shrugged her silly thoughts away.
Crossing the room, she rummaged through the drawers of a desk until she found wh
at she was looking for. She drew out a thin pad of paper and laid it on the desk, searching for the pencil in her hair. That was silly, of course. She must have lost it long ago. She couldn’t remember when it had fallen out. After another minute she found a set of long wax crayons and began to draw.
She drew her mother. She drew her the way she had looked in lightfall, warm and radiant, with no wound in her chest. She had to draw her before she forgot her face. She was already starting to forget—another day and it may have been too late. When she had finished, she looked at it. It was pretty good. That would have to do for now.
She returned to the bed and picked up the naptrap, turning it over and over in her hands and thinking about everything her mother had told her. There were so many things to do. She tried to list them all.
1. Find her father.
This one weighed heaviest on her mind. The only thing that gave her comfort was how little it seemed to worry her mother. Maybe it was normal for people to disappear on the way through. How was she going to find out, though? Where would she even start? She would have to learn more about the “void.” Maybe Animus could help her. Maybe Habis knew about the void.
When she thought of Habis, something shifted in the back of her mind. They were connected somehow, her father and Habis, but she couldn’t think how. Wait. That didn’t make any sense, did it? Then she saw it: the bell. Of course! Her father had said he heard a bell coming from Morley Church, just as she had! But given what she knew now, that didn’t make any sense. Habis said that the bell was made to summon her. How would her father have heard it? He couldn’t have, could he? Was there some other bell he was hearing? Was there some other way to contact him? Then she remembered the bell that her mother had handed to the gods when they had taken her. Was that it? Had they used it to summon her father? She shook her head. There were too many unknowns. She would have to talk with Habis and get some answers. If nothing else, the witch would be able to explain how the summoning bells worked.
She sighed. It was a place to start. At least she had hope now—a direction. But there were other things to be done first. She had responsibilities now. She wondered how often she would have to remind herself of that.
2. Find the lost mages and restore their power.
She said their names out loud to herself quietly. “Chantra, fire. Unda, water. Lignumis, wood.” Where would she start? She had absolutely no idea, but she had to succeed. Her mother’s fate depended on it.
She wondered where they could be. She remembered how she could feel the presence of the mages when she was with them and she closed her eyes, wondering if she could do it from a distance. If she could talk to them over a long distance, maybe she could feel where they were. She concentrated hard, picturing Animus as clearly as she could.
Almost immediately she felt him. It was faint, like looking at a person from a long way off.
Yes? A voice came in her head.
She gave a start. Animus, is that you?
I felt you searching for me. Are you all right?
This was going to be ridiculous! How would she ever have any privacy if she kept accidentally bumping minds with mages?
Do not despair, Animus said, sensing her angst. You will get used to it.
I was just thinking, she explained, changing the subject, that I might be able to find the lost mages. I mean, if I can feel you and the others, why not them?
Try.
She did. At once she realized that it was harder to focus on them since she had never met them. She changed tactics, thinking about their names, remembering what they had been like when she had seen them in the lightfall. It’s different, she admitted. Like they are so far away I can’t even tell if they’re real or not. I think I feel something, but I might just be imagining things.
That is how it feels for me too, he said. We will speak of this more another time. I must go now. I am speaking with the king.
As quickly as it had come, Animus’s voice was gone.
She twirled the naptrap faster. Right here between her fingers, her mother lay dying, frozen in a state of near death. Could she still think? Would she be aware of the time as it passed? It might take weeks to find the mages, even years. Had she saved her mother’s life, or confined her to prison? She shuddered at the thought, forcing herself to return to her list.
3. Find a herald.
That ought to be straightforward. She could just pick the burliest guard in the palace, couldn’t she? Or maybe perhaps she would pick a wizard. She almost smiled thinking of Cannon trailing behind her with a look of perpetual frustration. But of course that would never work. Cannon was meant for other things.
An idea struck her then, and she smiled. She would pick someone unexpected. Someone powerful, dangerous, but not in the eyes of others.
She returned to her list.
4. Pick a new mage to replace Lux.
This one made her especially nervous. Her mother had made it sound very important. She knew she couldn’t wait. Despite how pleased everyone was about her capture with the mirror, she doubted it would hold the darkness for long. A new mage was needed. But how would she pick? Who would she pick? She hardly knew anyone. A mage needed to be smart, she thought, and able to handle power. They needed to have good character, and they couldn’t be afraid of the darkness. They would have to confront evil in a way that nobody else would. Who did she know who fit that description? Who did she know who had faced the darkness and overcome it?
She sat bolt upright. She did know someone that fit that description. The idea seemed absurd to her at first, but the longer she entertained it, the less crazy it seemed. She gathered the crystal knife, the glowing ball of light, and the summoning bell and slipped them into the single, oversized pocket on the front of her robe. She felt a little silly, dressed like this, but it shouldn’t matter. Everyone would be asleep.
She walked quietly from her room in search of Hugo.
She found him in his rooms. She was worried that he might be sleeping, but he wasn’t. Archibald was there too. He bowed quickly to them. Brinley thought that his eyes lingered on her before he left. It was like he wanted to say something, but then he was closing the door.
Hugo was holding the king’s sword, and Brinley thought she could see an unshed tear or two in his eyes. He stared at her a moment, then collected himself and offered her a chair in the sitting room. “You’re still up too, huh?”
“Can’t sleep,” she said, sinking into a plush white couch.
“He brought me the king’s sword,” he said, looking down at it numbly. “I stole it once, you see, thought I deserved to carry it. Now he—” he broke off. “Anyway, I’m rambling. What can I do for you, Magemother?”
Brinley smiled. Something significant had obviously happened just now between Hugo and his teacher. She wished she hadn’t cut it short, but it was too late now. She guessed that he had changed a lot in the last few days, as she had.
“Your ear looks better.”
“Thanks,” he said, touching it absently. “Archibald helped me clean it. He thinks it will be just fine, but that I’ll look like a freak forever.”
Brinley laughed. Hugo did, too. It felt good to laugh at something after all that had happened.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” she said cryptically.
Hugo sat down, waiting. That was part of the new Hugo, she thought. The boy she had met at the Magisterium hadn’t been patient at all.
“It’s about Lux,” she began.
Hugo sat up straight, face going blank. She guessed that he was remembering the monster Lux had become, the terrible things that Lux had done to him.
“It’s not what you think,” she assured him. “It’s about this.” She pulled the orb out of her pocket. The room seemed to brighten a little.
Hugo relaxed. “Oh. What about it?”
“I have to find someone to give it to,” she said. “It’s fading.”
Hugo looked confused. “What do you mean?�
��
“It needs a human heart to live in.”
“Oh,” he said, but she knew he still didn’t understand. “How much time do you have?” he asked.
“Another day, maybe. I don’t want to take more time than that.”
Hugo looked thoughtful. “You have to find someone to take it?”
“Yes.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Couldn’t you do it?”
“No,” she said firmly. “Whoever takes it will become the Mage of Light and Darkness, and I am not a mage. I’m—”
“The Magemother, right.” He was thinking.
“What about Archibald?” he asked brightly. “He’s probably the best man I know.”
“Not Archibald,” she said. “But you’re on the right track. Whoever takes it has to be a very good person, or the light wouldn’t be at home, I think.” She startled herself with that last bit. Nobody had told her that, but instinctively she knew that it was true. Maybe this was what her mother had been referring to when she had told her to trust her instincts. She shook herself. “Anyway, they need to be wise, too, and strong, because eventually they will have to deal with the darkness.”
Hugo stood and started to pace. “What about one of the wizards from the Magisterium? They’re used to dealing with power and things like that.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Too old. Anyway, I don’t know them.”
“That’s true,” he said, stopping to look at her. “I don’t either. I just thought…” He started pacing again. “What about Tabitha?” he said, turning suddenly.
Brinley laughed.
“I mean,” he said, “I know she’s odd, but she’s good. She’s sort of pure, you know?”
“I know,” she said. “But no. Not Tabitha, either.”
“Where do you suppose she is, anyway?” Hugo asked.
“Well,” Brinley said, “I suppose she went back to the Magisterium, didn’t she?”
Hugo looked startled. “No. No, she didn’t. Archibald just told me all about it. She met him after we left her, and they traveled together. They were attacked by an idris and she disappeared.”
“What?” Brinley sat up straight. “Are you serious?”
Magemother: The Complete Series (A Fantasy Adventure Book Series for Kids of All Ages) Page 24
