Magemother: The Complete Series (A Fantasy Adventure Book Series for Kids of All Ages)

by Austin J. Bailey

  “Yes.” Hugo relaxed a bit. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided she’s probably fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “I don’t know what it is, but she seems to be able to take care of herself.”

  “True,” Brinley admitted. Her mind was racing again. She would have to find Tabitha now, too. “Five,” she mumbled to herself.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she said hastily. “Where were we?”

  “Looking for a new mage. Who are you going to get, then?” he said, starting to pace again. “How will you find them?”

  “My mother told me I would just know. She said it would be clear to me.”

  Hugo looked at her, struck by a sudden idea. “Okay,” he said, hurrying to get his boots. “Okay. I’ll take you to see some people. I know a lot of people. We’ll start with the knights. You can meet them and see if you can pick someone.”

  “But I’ve already picked someone,” she said, standing up.

  He got to his feet too, one boot on, one left by the chair. “You have? Who?”

  “You.”

  Hugo stared at her blankly.

  She smiled at him and held out the ball.

  He reached his hand out for it slowly, then paused. “But this means…”

  “You’ll be a mage,” she said softly. “Will you take it?”

  He took it. The ball melted in his hand and he gave a sharp intake of breath. The little golden strands of light unwound and wrapped themselves around his hand, scooting up his arm. It moved across his chest until it was right over his heart, then sank in through his shirt, through his skin.

  He shivered.

  “Are you okay?” Brinley asked him, taking his arm.

  “Yeah, I think so. What happens now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What will my father say?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Hugo grinned. “Okay.”

  Hey, Hugo, she said, reaching out to him with her mind.

  “What?” he asked. Then his face grew pale. “Holy buns,” he mumbled. “That’s different.”

  She nodded. “I think a lot of things will be different now.”

  ***

  She left Hugo’s rooms feeling exhilarated. One down. Now she needed to find Tabitha. She thought over the events of the day, looking for some clue as to what might have happened to her. She had made Hugo relate Archibald’s account to her in full. How could she have disappeared? Where could she have gone?

  Then she remembered. The swan! No wonder it had stuck out to Belterras. It wasn’t a bird at all. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she felt certain.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  In which there is a herald

  She found the mage of Earth among the earth; he was in the king’s gardens, speaking to the birds. She didn’t have to ask anyone where he was. She could feel him there, like you feel a person in a dark room right in front of you. She could have found him anywhere. He was a mage, and she was the Magemother.

  “Have you found her yet?” she asked. She had walked up behind him quietly, and he hadn’t heard her coming.

  He jumped, turning away from the birds. “Brinley!” he said. “I mean, Mother.” He smiled and offered her a seat on a little stone bench that bridged a garden stream. “To what do I owe this honor? I would have thought you’d be sleeping till lunchtime.”

  Brinley looked up at the pinpricks of starlight clinging to the dawn. “Maybe later,” she said. “I wanted to ask you about the swan.”

  “Really?” Belterras looked surprised, and more than a little pleased. “Good.” He smiled. “I know the swan is significant somehow. Unfortunately, no one seems to know where it went.” He gestured at the birds peeping out of the trees around them.

  “I think I do,” she said.

  He blinked in surprise.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Will you take me?”

  ***

  A very large harpy eagle landed on the east balcony of the highest tower of the Magisterium and Brinley slid smoothly from its back. The eagle became Belterras again and they walked into the tower together.

  “What a wonderful place!” he said brightly. “I came here myself once, when I was blown into a hedgeapple tree…I had almost forgotten. A little girl took thorns out of my wing. Is that who we are looking for?”

  “Yes,” Brinley said, looking around now.

  “There,” Belterras said, pointing to a dark corner of the roof where a black swan was nestled beside a family of starlings.

  Brinley held out her hands and called to it, and the swan glided down to land at their feet, looking up at them.

  “Tell me about her,” Belterras said eagerly.

  “Her name is Tabitha.”

  “Does she study shape changing at the school? I had no idea that the Magisterium had produced anyone with her talent. I’m surprised I have not heard about it.”

  “I’m not,” Brinley said. “She studies what she wants. Mostly how to help things that can’t help themselves. The rest of the time she stays up here, collecting news from the birds.” Brinley placed her hand on the swan’s head gently. “Nobody knows her, really. I think I might be her only friend.”

  “My, my,” Belterras cooed, bending down to stroke a glossy black wing. “I have been looking for someone like her for half my life.”

  Brinley nodded. This is what she had hoped for. “You need an apprentice,” she said.

  Belterras looked up at her like he was about to backpedal. “Well, I’m not sure I’m really old enough to have a formal apprentice,” he said, winking, “but I would certainly like to tutor her, for a start. Someone with her talent! Imagine the possibilities.” He stared off into the distance and Brinley smiled to herself.

  “Why won’t she change back?” Brinley asked. “‘Doesn’t she know how?”

  Belterras smiled. “Oh, I think she could figure it out, if she wanted to. It’s very freeing, being a bird. The first time I did it I didn’t change back for a month. I was terrified I’d never be able to do it again.”

  Unbidden, a question popped into Brinley’s mind. “Belterras,” she said. “Can I learn to change shape, too? My mother told me the Magemother wasn’t an actual mage, but she could change shape just like you.”

  Belterras gave her a kind smile. “With enough practice,” he said, “you may be able to. Almost anyone may learn, given enough time and the right teacher. I worked with her for a long time before she was able to accomplish the task.” He chuckled. “Actually, it happened quite by accident. She was trying to turn into a swallow‌—‌a very graceful bird, but a magpie flew past as she was transforming for the first time, and her concentration wavered. Next thing you know she was a magpie. She never could shape anything else.”

  Brinley nodded. “What about Tabitha?”

  “Ah,” he said, turning back to the swan. “For her it will be very different. I expect she will take to new shapes like a duck to water. Speaking of which, it would be nice to talk to her while we are here.” He looked the swan in the eyes. “You can be yourself now,” he said. “I promise I’ll teach you to be a bird again if it’s the last thing I do, though I think you will find that it is very easy.”

  The swan’s head swung swiftly up at him then, its form shifting silently under the morning sun.

  “Tabitha!” Brinley cried, throwing her arms around the girl.

  Tabitha looked a little confused, but pleased. “I knew you would come for me,” she said softly in Brinley’s ear. “I knew it.” She pulled away, looking at Belterras. “Hello, Belsie,” she said, surprised.

  “Hello.”

  “You’ll teach me?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked back at Brinley. “You don’t need me?”

  Brinley felt her heart break a little. “Of course I do, Tabitha. You’re my best friend in the world, and I barely even know you.”

  “Don�
��t worry about that,” Tabitha said, waving her hand dismissively.

  Brinley gave her a long smile. They walked to the east balcony, arms around each other. Belterras moved away politely, studying the array of birds‌—‌talking to them, she realized.

  “What is it?” Tabitha asked her.

  “What?”

  “You wanted to tell me something else?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “What?”

  Brinley laughed. She wasn’t used to talking to people like Tabitha‌—‌not that there were people like Tabitha. She was looking forward to getting used to it.

  “I do need your help, Tabitha, and Belterras does, too.”

  Tabitha looked over her shoulder at the mage when his name was mentioned. “What does he want?” she whispered. “I thought he was going to teach me how to be a bird again.” She grinned playfully. “I’m already pretty good.”

  Brinley giggled. “He wants to train you, Tabitha. Maybe to be his apprentice one day. Maybe to take over for him one day.”

  Tabitha’s eyebrows shot precariously high, looking back at him with wonder. Her gaze slowly dimmed, eyebrows locked up, gazing at nothing.

  “But for now,” Brinley said, shaking the other girl’s sleeve, “I hope you will do something for me.”

  “Oh,” Tabitha said, blinking the haze away. “What?”

  “I want you to be my herald.”

  Tabitha looked confused.

  “I’m the Magemother now,” Brinley began.

  Tabitha patted her on the head, smiling proudly. “I know that, silly.”

  Brinley laughed again. “That means I need a herald.”

  “Like Peridot?”

  “Exactly,” Brinley nodded. “Like Peridot.”

  “But I’m not like Peridot,” Tabitha protested.

  Brinley smiled. “I expect lots of people will say that, but I think you are more like her than you might think.”

  Tabitha scowled slightly, thinking hard. “What would I do?” she asked.

  “Well,” Brinley began. “I have a lot of things to do. We just had a war, didn’t we? And I have to find the lost mages. The Magemother’s herald goes with her everywhere, mostly to protect her. I think that is mainly what Peridot did for my mother. My mother told me I needed my own herald right away. Will you do it?”

  “But how would I protect you?” Tabitha asked. “I’m not a Laurel like Peridot.” She raised her fingers like claws and opened her mouth as if she had fangs.

  Brinley laughed again and pushed Tabitha’s hands back down. She turned to Belterras. “Can you teach Tabitha to become other animals?” she asked.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Of course,” he said. “She will have to learn them all.”

  “There,” Brinley said triumphantly. “When we need to fly you can be a bird. When we need to run, you can be a gazelle. When we need to fight‌—‌”

  “I can be a whale,” Tabitha said, a look of comprehension on her face. “Squish them!” She clapped her hands together loudly to emphasize the point, and several birds shuffled away at the noise.

  Brinley and Belterras laughed. Tabitha gave a shy smile.

  “I’ll leave you two to figure things out, then,” Belterras said. “I have many things to attend to.” He nodded to Tabitha. “I look forward to our time together.”

  She gave a little curtsy.

  When he had gone, Brinley turned to Tabitha.

  “Well,” she said.

  Tabitha raised her eyebrows. “What?”

  “I’d like to go back to the castle, herald.”

  Tabitha blushed. “It’s a long walk,” she said thoughtfully.

  Brinley laughed. “I was thinking we could fly.”

  Tabitha looked startled.

  “Do you think you can turn back into that swan? Or maybe a bit of a bigger swan?”

  Tabitha went quiet, her eyes staring blankly into space.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  In which there is a mother

  What will we do first?” Tabitha asked her. They were soaring high above the castle, descending in lazy loops as Tabitha slid from one warm updraft to another. Tabitha’s starlings glided around them like a halo.

  “Find the mages,” she answered, “and learn how to take care of myself. I mean, you can’t always be there to protect me.”

  “Yes, I can,” Tabitha said matter-of-factly.

  “No, you can’t.”

  “No, I can’t,” Tabitha agreed easily.

  They were silent for a while, enjoying each other’s company.

  “You’ve changed,” Tabitha said at length.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” Tabitha said, “when I met you, I could tell all you wanted was to go home.”

  Brinley nodded. “I did,” she admitted.

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, I did go home,” she began, wincing as she remembered. She still felt bad at the way she had run away, but deep down she knew it had to happen that way. “But when I was there I realized that there were more important things.”

  “What about now? Do you still want to go back?”

  Brinley cocked her head. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t thought about it.”

  Tabitha dipped her slender black neck in acknowledgment. “It’s probably better that way.”

  There was another long silence before either of them spoke. Tabitha flapped her wings once, pushing them out of the thermals to glide toward the lake. “Funny, isn’t it?” Tabitha said finally.

  “What?”

  “You know, how you came here looking for a mother, and really you just became one instead.”

  Brinley thought about it for a moment. “No,” she said. “It’s not strange.”

  Tabitha nodded. “I see what you mean. Sort of perfect, really.”

  They saw Animus walking across a balustrade to the king’s chamber far below them.

  “What’s it like, being their mother?” Tabitha asked in a dreamy voice.

  Brinley closed her eyes at the thought of it. “Oh,” she said, “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do,” Tabitha said.

  Brinley smiled grimly. “It’s very stressful actually,” she said. “I feel this big responsibility hanging over me, but I don’t know how to fulfill it, and I am terrified that I am going to mess it up. I don’t mean to complain‌—‌” she amended hastily. “It’s really wonderful, too. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

  She rushed on, her feelings pouring out of her in a torrent. “It’s changing me, you know? Even now, already. You wouldn’t think so, but it is. It’s like my heart has little rivers going out of it‌—‌one for each of them‌—‌and I don’t know where they lead. The water goes both ways, and all I am is that heart, and all I want is for the rivers to run‌—‌full and wild and free…”

  “And safe,” Tabitha added, glancing sideways at one of her starlings as it whizzed past her to land atop her head.

  “And safe,” Brinley agreed. “Always safe.”

  She bent down to hug Tabitha close as they soared through the sky.

  End of Book One

  Bonus Novella

  The Empty Throne

  by Austin J. Bailey

  Part One

  In which there are three queens

  Tabitha followed the man with the hat down a long stone walkway that led from the king’s castle and out onto the city streets. She took the form of a cat at first, black as night, padding along quietly behind him, then an owl, silent and swift. Then she became a gnat that landed atop his black bowler hat and sat there, bobbing up and down in the lamplight, wondering what in the world Archibald was doing in the middle of the night all dressed up when he should be sleeping.

  The hat weaved through the maze of streets, through the gates, out of the city, and through a beautiful moonlit meadow. By that time, Tabitha’s reservations about spying on the king’s most t
rusted advisor had vanished. Not because she thought he was being deceitful; that had never crossed her mind. Archibald was one of the best people in the world, and he was the Magemother’s friend, the old Magemother as well as the new Magemother, which was good enough for Tabitha. She was glad she came because of the beauty of the night. The sky was clear, revealing a wealth of silver and gold light that mirrored the beauty of the meadow below. Nightbells bloomed in the tall grass around them, flashing blue and purple in the moonlight, and the scent of wild rosemary met her with every slight gust of wind.

  At the end of the meadow, they came to the lake, and Archibald took off his hat and his starched white gloves and laid aside his cane. He sat down on the smooth stones by the lake’s edge with his hat in his lap, the small gnat on the brim going unnoticed. He removed a white rose bud from the breast pocket of his jacket and began picking off the petals. One by one, he breathed on them and threw them onto the still surface of the lake, adding white satin flecks to a field of reflected stars. Finally, he whispered, “Halis.”

  At first, nothing happened. Then, quite suddenly, like the very first drop of rain, a face appeared in the water, just beneath the surface, staring up at him expectantly. It was a woman’s face. She broke the surface of the water, dashing the stars apart. “Archibald,” she said reproachfully, rising halfway out of the water. “You are not the Magemother.”

  “I am her husband.”

  “Still, you should not summon me so.”

  Archibald tore his eyes away from her and studied his feet. “I know.”

  She brushed an ivory web of hair from her face; it fell across skin the color of sunlit sapphire. Her voice was a sleepy river, gentle, deep. “Still, I am not displeased. I have no one to speak to these days, apart from my sisters.”

  Archibald looked up hopefully. “I have few people to speak to also.”

  She smiled. “So… it will be just you and I tonight, like the old days, the king’s confidant and the Queen of the Water Nymphs, sharing secrets with each other that should not cross the water.”