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

by Austin J. Bailey

  Something made a noise in the underbrush and his head snapped upward. Molad peered into the tall flowers and smiled. He crossed the stream and crept softly on the pads of his feet, parting the stalks silently as he passed between them. Suddenly a bird shot out of the flowers. A quail, he thought. Moving faster than Hugo would have thought possible, Molad jumped and snatched the bird out of the air.

  What are you going to do with it? Hugo asked.

  Play, Molad said. Hugo felt excitement flutter through them and winced. Molad squeezed the bird tightly, trapping its wings, and then released it. He caught it expertly before it got out of arm’s reach. Are you paying attention, Hugo?

  He released the bird again. He did not catch it right away this time. He watched it fly. He watched it in a way that Hugo had never watched anything before. The bird seemed to slow under his gaze. He could see the feathers bending on the air as the wings moved up, down, up. He saw the way the light changed as the bird turned, tipping this way and that. He was aware of every feather, each shape and shade.

  You have to see as the light sees, if you want to see the light, Molad whispered. You must be moved by what moves the light, if you want to move in the light.

  What moves the light? Hugo asked, mesmerized by the way they had seemingly stepped out of time. The bird was still just ten feet away. Everything seemed to have slowed down.

  Truth, Molad said. The truth that all light is connected. His eyes glinted. Like the darkness…Light is here, and light is there, but there is only one Light, just as there is only one Darkness. It’s all the same light. It’s all the same darkness. Light is one. Darkness is one.

  Molad closed his eyes and Hugo felt a subtle tipping, a shifting in the region of their middle. Molad took a single step, and then they were floating in the air. The bird was in their hands again, except they didn’t have hands. They didn’t have a body at all. Rather, everything felt like their body. The air itself swam across the surface of their body. The bird flew through it. They surrounded the bird, holding it tightly, and stepped back to the ground. They were back where they started, across from the little brook, and the quail was clamped firmly in Molad’s hand again.

  Let it go, Hugo said. You’ve taught me what I wanted to learn, and you’ve had your fun.

  Hugo felt their hand tighten around the bird, crushing it slowly. Molad smiled and dropped the bird’s body on the ground. Now I’ve had my fun.

  Hugo blinked at the sudden return of power. His body tingled. It was his body again, and he never wanted to give it up again. He picked up the bird and walked back to the trail, where he built a small fire. He cleaned the quail with the small knife from his belt and then cooked it. He wasn’t hungry anymore, but at least now it hadn’t died for nothing. He finished the quail and doused the fire.

  When he went to retrieve his sword, he found it covered in mud, so he wiped the blade on his shirt and proceeded to polish the gleaming emerald salamander on the hilt thoughtfully. The symbol of the Paradise kings. His family. His mind drifted over the long line of men who had held that name before him. What would they think of him now, the boy king who could not find his power, who had a darkness inside him that was more powerful than his own will?

  Hugo’s eyes went wide. I have a devil inside me, he thought. How was he going to tell Brinley? He shook away the thought, sheathing his sword. What had happened was done. He would never let Molad have control again. He might as well make the best of it, though. There was no sense in ignoring the power that Molad had shared with him, the things he had learned.

  He made his way back to the trail and focused on a distant point on the landscape. He tried to see it the way Molad had seen the quail. He took a single step, felt a tiny inkling of the turning around his middle, and fell on his face in the dirt ten feet from where he’d started.

  “Ugh,” he growled, getting to his feet again. What did Molad say? See as the light sees. Hear what it hears. He picked another spot on the trail, closer this time, and tried again, only to be met with the same result. Facedown in the dirt, he groaned again. His hand scraped a rock as he pushed himself up, and he scowled at it. Then he picked it up and threw it as far as he could.

  It happened almost by accident. The rock, flying through the air, reminded him of the quail. Then he was seeing the rock as Molad had seen the quail: in perfect, slow-motion detail. He felt the rock moving through the body of the light, and then it was his body. He was the light and the light was him. There was that subtle tipping around his middle again and the rock was there, in his hand, and he was…

  Where was he? He fell from ten feet up and hit the dirt hard. He was a long stone’s throw from where he had begun, though. His leg hurt badly; he thought he might have sprained his knee. He smiled. The knee didn’t matter now. He had felt the subtle shifting more clearly this time. That was the key, he knew, to know the light and still know yourself. It was like being here and everywhere at the same time. He moved down the path with the speed of light until he found Cannon. He stopped just out of sight, then decided he didn’t want any company just yet. He glanced at a large oak tree a mile down the path and tipped himself toward it, losing himself in the light, then weaved back out of it at the foot of the oak. He placed a hand upon the warm, sunlit bark and smiled.

  Wonderful, isn’t it? Molad’s voice said in his head.

  Hugo bristled. I didn’t give you permission to enter my mind.

  Molad laughed. Your mind? Your mind is not your own any more than your body is. It is ours. Our mind. Our body.

  “Liar!” Hugo said aloud. My mind is me. And I am not you.

  Molad chuckled darkly. So much to learn, he said. You are not your mind. You will understand that soon enough, if you don’t believe me.

  “Get out of my head!” Hugo shouted, squeezing his head between his hands in frustration. A terrible thought struck him then. What if everything Molad had said was true? He panicked and began to scratch at his head, clawing at the steel cap until one of his fingers began to bleed.

  Don’t do that, Molad said sharply, and Hugo stopped. There is no getting me out. I was always here. But there is no reason that we can’t figure this out together.

  Hugo leaned back on his hands, breathing hard. Yes, there is, he said. I don’t trust you. Is that the same speech you gave the others?

  What others?

  The other mages. The ones that came before me.

  You are the only Mage of Light and Darkness that concerns me, Molad said. Or rather, the only Mage of Light.

  Mage of Light?

  You are the Mage of Light, Molad explained. I am the Mage of Darkness. Together, we are what you seek to become.

  Hugo shook his head. No, he said. I will not accept that.

  You will, Molad said simply. You will have to.

  ***

  Just out of sight, hiding in the trees, two forms huddled together, watching Hugo.

  “It appears to have worked,” March said.

  The kudri beside her nodded and changed back into the Janrax.

  “Good,” he said. “What next? Do we drive him into the Ire?”

  “No.” March rose to her feet and turned to leave. “He will find his own way there.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  In which Hugo has to learn how to dance

  By the time Cannon came along, Hugo had settled down beside the path at a spot that would make it easy to be found.

  “Hugo?” Cannon said, concern flashing across his face as he came near. All of the anger that he had left with seemed to have dissipated. “How did you get all the way over here? It took me forever to find you again. What the…What’s that thing on your head?”

  “It was a diversion,” Hugo said, tapping the cap on his head. “The ogre, I mean. It was led here by a kudri, and that witch, March.”

  Cannon paled. “You’re joking.”

  Hugo tapped the cap on his head again. “Nope. They put this thing on me so that I couldn’t communicate with the other mages and c
all for help.”

  “You spoke with them?”

  “Yep. Apparently Shael is so eager to give me advice that he’s sending it by messenger now.”

  “Hugo,” Cannon said, “this is no time to joke. You could have been killed!”

  Hugo shrugged. “I don’t think Shael wants me dead. In fact, I don’t think he wants me to think of him as an enemy. Shael could have just had them take me if he wanted.” Hugo stretched his legs out, doing his best to look as if he’d had a relaxing afternoon. “I guess you didn’t pick a very good time to abandon me, eh?”

  At that, Cannon looked positively sick.

  “He’s going to kill me,” Cannon said. “I can’t believe I did that.” He was muttering to himself now, as if he’d forgotten Hugo was there. “Could have died. Stupid. Stupid. Hothead, just like he said.” He glanced up. “I’m sorry, Hugo.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Hugo said. “Every cloud has a silver lining.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Hugo shifted, moving from one spot on the grass to another in the blink of an eye.

  Cannon’s face split into an involuntary smile. “So you’ve arrived at last.”

  Hugo shrugged, tapping the cap. “Yes, well, apparently I’m still not powerful enough to get this thing off my head.”

  Cannon waved a hand. “Not to worry,” he said. “I’ve got you covered.”

  “Are you sure?” Hugo said. “It hurts like death if you pull on it. Just gets tighter.”

  “Hmm,” said Cannon. He put a hand on the cap and tilted it to one side, then the other. Then, to Hugo’s horror, he smacked it with a knuckle.

  The cap gave a loud, bell-like tone and then tightened slightly. “Ouch!” Hugo exclaimed. “Don’t do that!”

  Cannon whistled. “It is on there pretty tight, isn’t it…Well,” he said, rolling up his sleeves, “There’s only one thing to do.”

  Before Hugo could ask what the one thing was, Cannon raised his arm in front of Hugo’s head and flattened his hand like a knife. Then he drew it straight through the air from left to right, just far enough away to avoid touching the cap. Hugo felt a thin blade of air whip across his scalp. The cap slipped, but then tightened down again, causing him to wince in pain.

  “Oops,” Cannon said, turning bright red. “Oh, wow. That was my mistake, Hugo.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Hugo said. “I couldn’t get it off, either. I’m sure Animus can.”

  “No,” Cannon said. “I mean…Oh boy…How do I say this?”

  “What?” Hugo said. He raised his hand to his head self-consciously, thinking that Cannon might have cut him. No, it felt fine. His scalp was entirely intact. There wasn’t even a nick in his skin…His skin. Hugo’s hand went to his shoulders, then to his shirt. There was hair on both. His hair. He rose up slowly, the realization dawning on him.

  “CANNON, YOU IDIOT! YOU SHAVED MY HEAD!”

  Hugo lunged, but Cannon ducked away from him.

  “Look at the silver lining, Hugo,” Cannon said, dancing out of reach. “You still have hair under the cap.”

  Hugo threw a wild punch and it went wide. The second one connected, sinking into Cannon’s gut.

  Cannon grunted, falling down hard. Hugo charged in for more, but Cannon held up a hand and a wall of wind knocked him to the ground.

  “One’s enough,” Cannon said.

  “You deserved it,” Hugo protested, trying to make himself believe it.

  “Yeah, probably.”

  They contemplated one another for a brief moment, and then Cannon broke into a grin. “Hey,” he said. “You’re looking a little bald there.”

  Hugo stared at him, speechless for a moment, then began to shake with laughter.

  ***

  Animus didn’t find the situation very funny at all.

  “You split up?” he growled. “After I specifically told you to keep an eye on each other?” Animus leveled a finger at his apprentice. “You left him?”

  Cannon started to say something, but Animus held up his hand, cutting him off.

  “No excuses,” he snapped. Then he rounded on Hugo. “You should be wary of whatever those two said to you, Hugo. The devil will tell nine truths to sell a single lie, so they say. Since they left you unharmed, I expect Shael’s aim is to gain your trust by helping you.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Hugo said.

  Animus nodded. “Of course you did. Well, let’s get this thing off your head, shall we?”

  “Uh…” Hugo said nervously.

  “Don’t fret,” Animus said. He grabbed Cannon and pulled him in front of Hugo. “I see you tried to cut it off first.” His voice was soft, but Cannon winced as if he were shouting. “After you discovered that you were a poor barber, what were you going to try next?”

  Cannon closed one eye, thinking hard. “Suction?”

  Animus gave an exasperated sigh. “Then it is a good thing he was wise enough to stop you. A Horocular Cap gets tighter the harder you pull. If you had tried to pull it off with the wind, I’m afraid our friend would have ended up with a very long neck, or none at all.”

  Cannon went so pale that Hugo very nearly felt sorry for him.

  “Heat!” Animus barked. Cannon jumped. “Heat creates what?”

  “Pressure,” Cannon said, looking slightly confused.

  “And in metal?”

  Cannon exhaled slowly, deflating. “Expansion,” he muttered.

  “Exactly,” Animus said. He waved his hand at Hugo. At once the air around Hugo’s head became very hot. Hugo felt a sudden increase of pressure against his crown. Then, just when he thought his head would burst into flames, the heat turned into a sharp, freezing cold and the cap cracked in several places, tumbling away.

  Several voices entered Hugo’s head right away.

  Are you okay?

  Hugo, are you there?

  Why aren’t you answering me?

  Hugo, I know you’re a boy, but if you don’t start talking to me this instant, I swear I will make Tabitha turn into a lion and eat your pants. This last voice was Brinley’s.

  YES! Hugo shouted. I’m here. You can all stop worrying now. Or being mad at me, or whatever is going on. A kudri attacked me and March put a magical helmet on my head so that I couldn’t communicate with you.

  A Horocular Cap, Animus added to the group.

  Why didn’t you just take it off? Brinley asked.

  Ah! Hugo said. Why didn’t I think of that? It was stuck, Brinley. Animus had to get it off.

  Interesting, Cassis said. I hope you didn’t destroy it, Animus.

  And Belterras said, Oh, poor boy. Happened to me once, during the war. Make sure you put some ointment on the cuts; you never know where a thing like that has been.

  Cuts? Hugo touched his head, wincing as his fingers brushed the area where the rim of the cap had dug into his skin. Sure enough, there was a deep circular cut. It was oozing blood slowly, and he dug around in his pack for a cloth.

  Well, I’m glad you’re okay, Brinley said, just to Hugo this time. It sounds like you’re not having a very good day, either.

  You too, huh? Hugo said, eager to change the subject. The less he told her about March and the kudri, the less she was likely to worry and ask him difficult questions.

  Yes, she said. Tabitha and I are having some difficulty at the Lake of Eyes.

  You’ll figure it out, Hugo assured her.

  Thanks, Brinley said. And be careful. Then she was gone.

  Animus was eyeing Hugo thoughtfully. “If you are finished, I would like to ask the question that no one else did: What did they say?”

  Hugo winced. He had spent a good while thinking about what he should tell Animus, and he had yet to make up his mind.

  “The truth will do nicely,” Animus said, reading his thoughts.

  Hugo shrugged. “The kudri basically said that the key to my power was in talking to the darkness.”

  “And did you believe him?”

  Hugo s
hrugged. “He said he was a messenger from Shael. He said that Shael wanted me to learn how to use my powers so that there could be balance.”

  Animus nodded. “The kudri have long served Shael as messengers…and assassins. I am sorry that I left you alone with him. It was a terrible risk.”

  “I don’t think he meant me any harm,” Hugo said. “He just wanted to talk to me.”

  Animus held up a finger. “Do not underestimate the harm that words can do, especially when they come from Shael. You should not believe everything that was said.”

  “I think he told me the truth,” Hugo said. “At least, it felt like the truth when he was saying it.” He rushed on, hoping that telling Animus would make himself feel more justified. “I did what he said. I spoke with the darkness. I used the mirror you gave me. I took your advice too. I named him.”

  “What?” Cannon said, but Animus waved him away.

  He eyed Hugo with an unreadable expression on his face. “And?”

  Hugo looked at his boots thoughtfully. “He taught me…things.”

  “Show me,” Animus said.

  Hugo threw a rock as hard as he could and caught it, moving several yards in the blink of an eye. Then he shot back to his starting position.

  Animus gave one small laugh and then smiled kindly at him, though Hugo saw sadness hiding behind it. “Well done.” Animus hesitated. “However he taught you, I am sure that it could not have been easy.” He gave Hugo a significant look.

  I hope you did not pay too high a price for your knowledge.