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

by Austin J. Bailey

  Archibald nodded wearily. “I would like that. I need someone to tell me if I am a fool.”

  She grinned slyly. “No doubt you are. But Archibald, what would your friend ask of me? Or were you not aware that you brought someone with you tonight?”

  Archibald frowned. The water nymph flicked her finger like she would flick a gnat, and the gnat on Archibald’s hat tumbled through the air, turning into Tabitha.

  “Tabitha!” Archibald exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He looked more shocked than angry, for which Tabitha was grateful; she had not planned on being caught. “Hi, Archibald,” was the best thing she could think of to say. Then, “Your friend is very beautiful.” As an afterthought, she added, “Sorry,” because she knew he probably hadn’t wanted to be followed.

  “Tabitha,” Archibald said, taking control of himself, “you should not follow me like that. Did the Magemother ask you to spy on me?”

  “No, I was just curious where you were going.”

  Archibald nodded, looking relieved.

  “Please don’t send me away, Archibald,” Tabitha said.

  “Very well,” he said, sighing. “But if you stay, you must promise not to speak of what you hear.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I promise.” She turned to Halis, excitement in her voice. “I’ve never met a nymph before. Is that what you are?”

  “Yes,” the nymph said, gliding closer.

  “Are there many water nymphs in Aberdeen?” Tabitha asked curiously.

  “There are many,” Halis said, inching closer still. “But not in Aberdeen. There are also three nymph queens.” She glanced stiffly at Archibald. “Though there used to be four.”

  “Used to be? What happened? Did she die? Oh, don’t say she died.” Tabitha laid down on the bank beside Archibald and folded her hands under her chin with the attitude of one settling down for a good story. Archibald gave a resigned sigh.

  “She didn’t die,” the nymph said, smiling sweetly. She moved closer, so close that Tabitha could almost reach out and touch her hair, if she wished. “She was taken from the nymph kingdom by the gods. They made her into the Magemother. Then Archibald here,” she said, slapping the water and splashing him, “married her.”

  Tabitha gasped, staring at Archibald with wide eyes. “Really? So that’s where she came from! I had no idea. Nobody ever talks about who she was before she was the Magemother.” Tabitha paused, thinking. “Nymphs aren’t listed among the creatures that Belterras is teaching me about,” Tabitha said, looking curiously at Halis. “I don’t know anything about you.”

  “Belterras,” the nymph said, looking at Archibald. He nodded, confirming something to her. “You are his apprentice?” she asked.

  Tabitha nodded several times. “He says I will be the Mage of Earth one day, like he is now.” She sighed. “There is so much to learn, though. I have to learn the shapes of all the animals, their voices, their thoughts. He says I have to know them as well as my own. They will all be under my care someday…even you, I suppose…”

  Halis laughed. “Silly child,” she said. “I am not an animal to be cared for by some petty mage. I am a nymph!”

  Tabitha gaped at her, horrified at her mistake. “Oh,” she said. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean any offense.”

  Halis eyed Tabitha skeptically. “Perhaps,” she said.

  Tabitha cleared her throat, deciding to change the subject. “How do you know Belterras, then?” she asked.

  Halis pursed her lips. “Well,” she said slowly, “though we do not depend on him for survival, the Mage of Earth was responsible for the creation of our kingdom.”

  “Really?” Tabitha said. Belterras had not mentioned it to her in their lessons.

  “Yes,” Halis said. “Long ago the nymph people dwelt on the land, sharing it with your people, but…” She wrinkled her nose. “We did not get along. Rather than risk outright war between our people, the Mages of Earth and Sea placed us in our own kingdom. Belterras maintains the magic that keeps our world safely out of yours.”

  Tabitha nodded. “So someday, I will maintain it for you,” she said.

  The nymph squinted at her. “Perhaps,” she said again softly.

  Tabitha sighed.” Well, you’re very beautiful, anyway. Are your sisters as pretty as you are? Where are they?” She looked around, as if they might appear at any minute.

  “You should hope they do not come,” Halis murmured. “They are very curious about mortals. Even more curious than I. “Without warning, her blue arm shot from the water like a snake, reaching for Tabitha. Archibald, who had been expecting something of the sort, grabbed Tabitha by the hem of her cloak and jerked her back to safety.

  Halis smacked the water with the flat of her hand, pouting. “Come now, Archibald. You spoil my fun.”

  “My sincerest apologies,” he said, patting Tabitha on the back.

  “I haven’t seen the Mage of Earth for an age,” Halis protested. “I miss talking with him. He used to show me the most wonderful creatures,” she said. She looked up, contemplating something only she could see, and a smile touched her lips. “Things you cannot ever see from the water.” She scowled suddenly at Archibald. “I quite think stealing his apprentice would have won me a visit from him.”

  “I can show you animals,” Tabitha said enthusiastically. She danced out of Archibald’s grasp, flitting from the rocks into the air, changing into a large monarch butterfly with wings the color of sunshine. She fluttered out over the water.

  The nymph reached for her, fingers clutching at delicate wings, but the butterfly danced skillfully away to the shore again, changing back into Tabitha.

  “Yes! Beautiful!” Halis was clapping her hands gleefully. “Again! Again!”

  Tabitha smiled and changed into a deer.

  “I see all kinds of deer.” Halis yawned, unimpressed. She scowled.” They drop things in the water, you know, things they shouldn’t.”

  The deer changed into a nightingale, which sang a beautiful song. Halis picked up the tune quickly and sang along. Then the nightingale became a firefly. Other fireflies joined her, emerging from the woods to dance around the nymph on the water. Halis caught one in her cupped hands, stared at it for a while to see if it was Tabitha, then released it when it was not.

  When Tabitha was back on the shore again, Archibald caught her wrist. “That’s enough,” he said gently. “You are playing a dangerous game.”

  Halis watched them silently from the water, sinking down until only her eyes were above the surface.

  “Why hasn’t Belterras told me more about nymphs?” Tabitha asked Archibald. “Why are you here talking with one?”

  “Because,” he said, dismissing her second question to answer the first, “they are not creatures of this world. I expect they are one of the most powerful, most dangerous races that will ever be in your care. Nymphs, like dragons, are immortal, more like gods than animals.” He paused, trying to think of a way to explain it. “If this whole world were to die tomorrow, the nymphs would not die with it. They would simply leave it and take up residence elsewhere.”

  Tabitha thought about that a moment, then laid back down on the rocks again. “That makes sense,” she said. “Another world. I wonder if Magemothers always come from another world. Brinley came from another world too, you know.” Something dawned on her and she turned to Archibald. “Oh my, Archibald, Brinley is your daughter.”

  “Brinley?” the nymph asked, eyes narrowing.

  Tabitha nodded. “The new Magemother, she’s Archibald’s dau—”

  “Hush, child,” Archibald cut her off sharply.

  “What?” Halis said, her voice rising in pitch. “What are you talking about? What of my sister? What has become of Lewilyn?”

  Archibald looked at his feet, then said, “That, in part, is why I came here tonight… She is dead.”

  “What?” The water nymph rose out of the lake so that only her toes still touched the surface. The water bubbled and frothed around her, boi
ling. “MIR!” she barked, looking down at the water. “TOLARIN!”

  A second later, two more nymphs rose from the lake on either side of her. The one on the left was slender, completely naked, with sharp features and eyes like an angry hawk. The one to her right wore an apron the color of blood and carried a spear made of whale bone crusted with black pearls. Archibald got to his feet nervously.

  “Sisters,” Halis said, “you remember Archibald.”

  “How could we forget?” the sharp‐featured nymph said in a biting tone.

  “How is our sister?” the nymph with the spear sneered. She wrinkled her nose. “Has she been a good wife to you, mortal?”

  Archibald hung his head.

  “She is dead,” Halis told them. “He told me so.”

  The sisters wailed in chorus. “LIES!” The nymph with the spear pointed it at Archibald, and a giant snake tore from the water at his feet, coiling around him. Archibald grunted in surprise.

  “You swore to protect her after she was taken from us,” Halis accused. “You have failed.”

  “Wait!” Archibald shouted at them. “We have a daughter. That is what I came to tell you. She will want to meet you. She is the new Magemother.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath from the three nymphs.

  “A child!” one said.

  “That was forbidden,” said another.

  The nymph with the spear whispered, “Abomination.” She jerked the spear like a whip in her hand. The snake lurched then, dragging Archibald into the water. He disappeared with a small gasp and the nymphs on either side of Halis dove, leaving Halis alone with Tabitha.

  “We claim this man,” the nymph said. “He has broken a solemn vow to us and must pay the price. Say nothing of what you have witnessed here, or you will pay the same. Follow us, and you will share his fate.” With her final words, Halis slid beneath the surface.

  For a moment, Tabitha gaped at the rippling water. When the ripples stilled, she sent a shout with her mind across the forest, calling Belterras.

  Tabitha took to the air, unfolding her wings as a great black swan. She headed to the forest glade where they often had lessons. There was a good chance that he would be there. When she alighted on the forest floor, Belterras was waiting. She gripped the ancient mage’s arm and shook it. “You have to teach me how to be a fish,” she said.

  “Peace,” he said, attempting to calm her. “What is going on?”

  “There isn’t time! Anyway, I promised not to tell. I can’t tell. You just have to teach me how to be a fish! I have to learn tonight!”

  “Tabitha,” Belterras said patiently. “We have not begun water forms yet for a reason. They are more difficult than their land‐going cousins.” He gestured vaguely. “Fish are subtle creatures. Their minds are ancient, simple. It takes great skill to keep your head as a fish. You cannot learn it in a single night—certainly not right now, in this state.”

  “I can!” she said, forcing herself to calm down. “I have to. Archibald will die if I don’t.”

  “Archibald?” Belterras said, looking startled for the first time. “What are you talking about?” He pointed to the ground. “Tell me what’s going on right this instant.”

  Tabitha shook her head, squeezing tears out of the corner of her eyes. “I promised him that I wouldn’t say. Halis said she would kill me if I told.”

  “Halis?” he said softly. “The water nymph?” He covered her mouth with his hand. “No. Do not tell me. They are treacherous creatures. If you have promised them silence, then it is better that you keep it. I will teach you what you want to learn, if you will promise me that you will not take on more than you can handle alone.” He looked at her meaningfully. “To break your word is forgivable, to save a life.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  The old mage considered things, weighing the wisdom of what he was about to do, and then nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Let us begin.”

  Hours later, with the moon high in the sky, Tabitha hopped off the bank of the lake and into the water, changing into the only fish shape that she had been able to learn in such a short amount of time: a minnow. Nervously, she swam away from the giant splash her human form had made upon entry, knowing that it might attract the attention of other fish in the lake. As a minnow, she was literally at the bottom of the food chain. She could turn back into a girl before getting swallowed, if it came to that, but only if she saw it coming.

  She swam around the edge of the lake for a time, her fish eyes making the water seem brighter than it was. Eventually she gave up hope of finding the nymphs near the surface and pointed herself in the direction she knew they would be: down.

  The lake was deeper than she expected, especially in the middle, and the deeper she went, the more unsavory creatures she noticed. She tried not to look at them for long and prayed they would not look at her either. Catching a brief glance of a one‐eyed, shark‐like fish, she hoped that if she needed to change shape again she would be able to find her way back to being a minnow before she needed to breathe; she was far too deep to reach the surface on one breath.

  Just when she was sure it couldn’t get any darker, she found what seemed to be the bottom. Then it shifted, rolled over beneath her, and opened its massive mouth. She tried to scream, couldn’t, and then swam with all her might away from the gaping maw of the creature. The mouth slammed shut a second later, having devoured something larger and more filling than a minnow. The great fish rolled over, sucking her downward in the current of its turning body, spinning her toward the bottom of the lake before it came to rest above her, sealing her off from the surface.

  From below, she realized that the creature was laying on the opening of a deep crevice, guarding it, perhaps, or just taking a nap. In any event, it was a great stroke of luck that she had gotten past it so easily. She was sure that she was going the right way now.

  The sides of the lake sloped inward on all sides so that the lake narrowed into a funnel below her. She saw a pinprick of light below her and swam straight down into the neck of the funnel. As she descended, the sides of the lake came closer and closer together until she began to bump them with her fins as she swam. Finally, at the very bottom of the lake, she found the tiny opening that the light was streaming through. It was too small even for her to fit through. The opening shimmered like a waving wall of crystal glass, lit from behind with golden light. It took her a minute to figure out what it was, then she realized what it reminded her of. It looked like the surface of the water when you were swimming up from below. But that didn’t make sense, did it? This surface was facing down, not up. There couldn’t possibly be air on the other side of it. She wondered whether she could fit her finger through the hole if she changed back into her own shape, and before she had really decided it was a good idea, she changed back into herself again.

  In her own shape, the world went utterly cold and dark. She could not see the light anymore, and she could not breathe. Panicking, she felt for where she knew the hole must be, found it, and stuck her finger through it.

  The sensation she experienced next was unlike anything she had felt before; it was as if she herself had become the water and were spilling through the hole. She shook the thought out of her head and found herself lying on the floor of a cavernous golden chamber, sopping wet from head to toe, her face pressed against a large heart‐shaped crystal set in a golden floor.

  “Hey, you there!” a voice said. She looked up to see a thin boy running at her. He was dressed in plain woolen clothes that were several sizes too big for him. There was a shock of white in his blond hair, though he could hardly be older than she was. He was carrying an open book that looked too heavy for him, the pages flapping frantically to and fro. “What are you doing?” he demanded, slamming the book shut so that he could run more easily. “How did you get in here?”

  “I came through the lake,” she said, her voice echoing around the massive chamber, “down a big funnel thing, and t
hen…” She waved her hand in a nondescript way as she rose to her feet. “I was here.”

  The boy came to a stop in front of her and tilted his head back, looking up. She followed his gaze to a point several hundred feet above them where the ceiling dipped down on all sides like the outside of a funnel. Maybe it was the light playing tricks on her, but she thought she could see a tiny droplet of water in the center of it.

  “The lake?”

  “Yes,” she said. “The lake. Now, where is Archibald? I’ve come to take him back. You can’t kill him. You just simply can’t. He’s too decent, and he’s my friend.”

  The boy gawked at her. “Are you talking about the prisoner that the three queens brought down?”

  “I expect so,” Tabitha said tentatively. “Yes. Three queens?” She thought back on Halis’s words, trying to remember if the three nymphs were supposed to be queens.

  The boy raised his hand, ticking off fingers one by one. “Halis, Mir, Tolarin. The three queens of Nymia.”

  “Queens of what?” she said, taking off her socks and wringing them out on the floor.

  “Don’t—oh, never mind. I’ll have to clean it up anyway. Nymia. You know, the nymph kingdom. I believe you now, that you came from the lake.”

  “What do you mean?” she said, grimacing as she struggled to pull the sodden socks back onto her already cold feet.

  “Well,” the boy said, “you’re either telling the truth and you’re not from here, or you’re the stupidest person in all of Nymia.”

  Tabitha rounded on him. “I am not!”

  “I know,” he said, holding up his hands. “That’s what I said. I just don’t know how you got in here. The portal is supposed to be guarded.”

  “Well,” Tabitha said, “the guard was hungry.”

  “What? Oh, never mind. You know, nobody has ever gotten in here before.” He scratched his head. “I don’t even remember what protocol is.” His face went white. “I expect you’ve broken several laws already. You’ll have to answer to the queen.”

  “Which one?”

  The boy frowned. “I don’t know. Halis, hopefully, otherwise you’re doomed. Mir and Tolarin don’t like aliens.”