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

by Austin J. Bailey

  Hugo said nothing. Animus waved a hand dismissively. “No matter,” he said. “We can easily make it to Tourilia now. We should be off at once.”

  Hugo blinked in surprise at the abrupt dismissal. “But…I thought you would have more questions for me.”

  Animus held up a hand. “I am curious about many things, but the balance of light and darkness is yours to strike. You cannot lecture me on the workings of the wind, nor can I teach you what you must learn of light and darkness. If you have questions for me, I am happy to listen. As for me, there is only one question in my mind now, and you cannot answer it.”

  Hugo nodded. He felt surprised at how much Animus trusted him, and a little apprehensive.

  Animus stretched, preparing himself for the journey. “Off we go, then. Wait for us when you get there, will you? I’m afraid light travels much more quickly than air…”

  “Animus,” Hugo said. “What’s the one question in your mind?”

  Animus sighed. “If Shael is still imprisoned as we assume, then how is he sending messages to you? For that matter, how is he communicating with anyone at all?”

  Hugo’s eyes went wide. “He must be out.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps not.” Animus raised an eyebrow. “I will go ahead and wait for you. Give me a few moments to get there before you come. Cannon will stay here with you. This way we will not have to leave you alone again.”

  Hugo nodded and Animus vanished in a sudden breeze from the south. Hugo watched him go, imagining that he could see the wind winding its way through the hills, climbing to the clouds.

  Cannon was still watching Hugo. There was something in his expression that Hugo had not seen before, as if he were reexamining some of the assumptions he had made about the prince of Caraway. He looked like he had several things that he wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut instead, causing Hugo to look away awkwardly, searching for something to distract himself with while they waited. The little brook wound its way peacefully through a forest of sunflowers, and it seemed strange to think that somewhere north of them, a terrible evil might be free. A cloud moved in front of the sun and covered him in shadow. He shivered, looking up at it, and then shifted into light.

  ***

  An hour after Hugo, Animus, and Cannon had been talking on the road, they bowed together before the king of the gnome kingdom. Hugo had arrived several minutes before Animus and Cannon. Luckily, he had caught sight of his reflection in a pane of glass and noticed the ridiculous circle of hair that the Horocular Cap had left on his head. He had just enough time to shave it off before the others arrived. Now, in front of the king, he was feeling very bald. The great hall of the king’s castle stood five stories tall and was built of polished stone the color of ripe apples. In contrast, the king of gnomes himself was diminutive by human standards, though he looked downright burly next to some of his servants.

  Thieutukar Manisse inclined his head and said, “Animus, you are welcome. And Hugo Paradise. This is your first time venturing into our lands, so let me start by saying it is an honor to have the prince of Caraway in our halls.” He had strong, chiseled features and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were soft, the eyes of a man accustomed to doing a lot of listening. “This day began like any other, and lo, it has ended with two mages under my roof, and an apprentice besides. How may I be of service to you?”

  Animus inclined his head again. “Thank you, King Thieutukar. We are on an errand of some importance. We were sent here by the Magemother herself. She had a…feeling. An intuition, if you will, that we might find some clues here as to the whereabouts of the Mage of Fire. She was searching for her, and saw your face in her mind.”

  Thieutukar looked startled. “My face?” he said, frowning thoughtfully. “That is a strange thing. The Mage of Fire, you say? Chantra…” He looked as if he was going to say something more, but changed his mind. He waved an arm and said loudly, “Clear the hall.”

  Cannon and Hugo exchanged glances, but Animus was still waiting patiently for the king to speak. After several moments of shuffling feet and closing doors, they were alone.

  “The Mage of Fire,” he prompted.

  “Yes,” Thieutukar said, settling back into his chair. “I remember her well. It is true that she came here often. That is a well-known fact…” He folded and unfolded his fingers on the table before him. “What is not well known, is that she was not coming to visit me.” He looked at Animus. “I thought perhaps you were aware, but I take it from your questioning that you weren’t. She came here seeking someone that we do not speak of. Someone that is presumed to be dead. A prisoner, if you will, of my kingdom.”

  “A prisoner?” Animus said, startled. “Who can you be talking about, Thieutukar?”

  The king shifted. “Perhaps I should not have introduced them, but she was a very persuasive child, and I was convinced she would have found a way to talk to him with or without my help.”

  “With whom?” Animus pressed.

  Hugo froze. Something was clutching at his mind. It had caught him unawares, wrenching control away from him. He leapt to his feet, drawing all eyes towards him as he approached the king.

  “Thieutukar,” Molad said, and at his words, several torches sputtered out around them, casting them into shadow.

  Animus, who had been about to say something, stilled in his chair.

  The gnome king looked up at him, not trying to hide the surprise on his face. “Yes, Hugo?”

  “I am Molad,” he said evenly.

  The king’s face blanched, but his expression remained unchanged. “I see. What is it you want?”

  “I seek an audience with the dragon.”

  The king’s inscrutable face unraveled at the edges, dissolving into a look of astonishment.

  “What dragon?” Animus asked.

  “The prisoner,” Thieutukar said. “But how can you know? Nobody knows. We kept the secret for our own safety, and his.”

  “I know,” Molad said simply. “There is a great darkness beneath this fortress, and the dragon was last seen in the skies of Hedgemon. He is here.”

  The king nodded slowly, disbelieving. “He is. But to speak with him is no light endeavor. Only the kings of Hedgemon have approached him and lived. Only the kings of Hedgemon.”

  “And Chantra?” Animus said.

  The king inclined his head. “And Chantra.”

  Molad nodded curtly, as if these facts did not concern him. “I must see him.” He jabbed a finger imperiously at the king. “I will speak to the dragon.”

  Molad closed his eyes and Hugo opened them. He blinked at the faces of the mage and the king as the torches flickered to life again. Cannon was staring at him, open-mouthed.

  “Hugo?” Animus asked.

  Hugo cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. “Yeah.”

  King Thieutukar shook his head solemnly. “It has begun for you. I remember when the quickening began for Lux.”

  “The quickening?” Hugo asked.

  Thieutukar nodded, motioning for Hugo to take his seat again. “That is what my people call it when a new mage begins to come into his power. For the Mage of Light and Darkness, of course, it is not always easy to watch. Lux became something of a split being for a time, before he learned to live in balance.”

  “I don’t think he ever learned,” Hugo muttered under his breath.

  “I assume the dragon in question is Kuzo? The beast that attacked Shael’s stronghold in the Ire?” Animus asked. Thieutukar nodded, and Animus turned to Hugo. “Do you know why Molad desires to speak with him?”

  Hugo shook his head. “I think the dragon must have something that he wants.”

  “Knowledge,” the king said. “That is the only wealth the dragon has now.” He turned to Hugo. “You cannot see him right away, I’m afraid. One cannot just walk up to a dragon and live to tell the tale. There is a ceremony involved. Dragons are very old creatures. If you approach him as a man, you will die like a fly. Only by approaching him on his o
wn terms will you survive.”

  “His own terms?”

  Thieutukar nodded. “To approach the dragon you must learn an ancient ceremony in which, more or less, you demonstrate your ability to fight like a dragon. The dragon will then decide whether you are worthy to speak to him.”

  “But I don’t want to see him at all!” Hugo exclaimed.

  Animus smiled bitterly. “Part of you does,” he said. “And I have a feeling that part of you will win out. Besides, I am confident that this is the reason the Magemother was drawn to this place. No doubt the dragon holds the clue that we are looking for. You had better learn what you need to learn, Hugo. I would just as well let King Thieutukar speak with this dragon for us, but Molad seems very determined to have his own audience. Unless you think you can change his mind?”

  Hugo thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. I can’t even keep him quiet.”

  And I don’t know how I ever will, he thought bitterly. His stomach growled loudly, echoing the angst in his mind. “We can still have dinner, right?” he asked.

  “Of course!” the king said. “Food before fighting!”

  ***

  A little less than an hour later, Hugo’s belly was filled to bursting with roast beef, hot corn on the cob, fruit tarts, soft-baked sweet potato chips, fresh bread with orange marmalade, and a bowl of cauliflower soup, which had looked very questionable but turned out to be quite good. After the final course was cleared, the king emptied the great hall again. Even Animus was asked to leave; only Hugo and Thieutukar remained. The king had changed out of his regular clothing and now wore a form-fitting black tunic and light cotton pants of the same color. He walked to his throne and picked up the longsword that leaned against it. “Draw your sword,” the king said.

  The king began to circle him meditatively as he spoke, words flowing out of him slowly, methodically, as if he had memorized them years ago.

  “The secret of gaining an audience with a dragon is to prove to him that you are kin.”

  “Kin?” Hugo said. He was trying not to look down at the king. It felt awkward to look down at someone, especially when they were teaching you, and especially when that someone was a king, but he couldn’t find a way around it. The man was three feet tall.

  “Kin,” the king repeated, apparently unaware of Hugo’s discomfort. “Brothers. You must show him that the same passion and power that lives in him lives in you. All of his grace, all of his poise, all of his terrible rage…”

  The king slipped into a slight crouch, raising the sword lightly above his head like an extension of his arm. He pivoted from foot to foot, tracing out some secret shape upon the ground. Hugo watched in awe as he moved; his feet never seemed to leave the floor. His arms and legs moved as one, floating, calm, as if he were a creature of water instead of flesh and bone.

  Thieutukar slipped out of the dance and pointed at Hugo. “The dragon dance should be effortless,” he said. “Invigorating. You should feel empty afterwards. Spent, as if you have given your whole soul to it.”

  Hugo balked. “I don’t know how to do that!” he said. “If I had years to practice, maybe. How long have you been practicing it?”

  “Years.”

  Hugo gestured with an open hand, proving his point.

  Thieutukar shook his head patiently. “The amount of time is not the problem,” he said. “You are the problem.”

  “Me?” Hugo said.

  The king nodded gravely. “You. You cannot dance it. Only the dragon within can perform it.” He tapped Hugo firmly in the center of the forehead. “For the dragon within to come forth, you must step aside.” He waved his hand. “The dragon dance cannot be learned, at any rate. It can only be danced.”

  Hugo gave him a blank look. It sounded like complete nonsense, but he might as well make the best of it. “Okay,” he said. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to try.” The king nodded his approval and moved away to give him the floor.

  Feeling incredibly awkward, Hugo crouched down as he had seen the king do. He remembered how the king had moved, how he had traced the invisible shape with his feet, and he tried to imagine the most beautiful shape he could think of. A salamander was the first thing that came to mind, and the feel of that shape steadied him as he began to trace it. The salamander was the symbol of the Paradise kings; if there was anything that should feel natural, it should be that. As he finished tracing it he realized that he had given little thought for what his sword hand was doing. He hoped the king hadn’t noticed that bit. He finished and stepped out of the dance. It didn’t feel graceful at all.

  He knew how he had done before he looked at the king. Thieutukar shook his head, his expression inscrutable, and pointed at the center of the floor. “Again.”

  Hugo sighed, moving back to the center.

  “Hugo.”

  “What?” Hugo replied, eyes closed in concentration as he began to move again.

  “You’re trying too hard.”

  Hugo sighed and began once more.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In which there is a magical talking cat

  Brinley and Tabitha reached the Lake of Eyes early in the morning. The black swan settled onto the shore and Brinley slid down from its back as it changed into Tabitha. Brinley took the drawing from her bag and together they held it up against the lake in the background to compare.

  “It looks different,” Tabitha said, and Brinley had to agree.

  “But look at that boulder,” Brinley said, pointing. “It’s exactly the same as the one in the painting. What are the chances of that?”

  Tabitha shrugged. “I suppose so,” she said. “What now?”

  That was the very thing that Brinley had been wondering since their search began. She walked to the edge of the water and opened her mind to the lake. She reached out mentally, summoning up an image of Unda in her mind and probing the lake for signs of him. She felt again the sudden awareness of a great weight. It was as if all the water in the lake had been set on her shoulders in a giant bucket. She released the image of him with a gasp, and the weight faded too.

  “He’s here,” she said. “He must be. It’s never felt that heavy before. It’s like his power wants to get back to him.”

  Tabitha stooped over the water’s edge and slapped the water brusquely, making Brinley jump. “Unda!” she shouted.

  Brinley grinned. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” she said.

  Tabitha shrugged. “I’m going to make breakfast,” she said, and started gathering twigs for a fire.

  Brinley walked around the edge of the lake thoughtfully, searching—for what, she did not know. When she came back around from the other side of the lake, Tabitha had food roasting over the fire (a zucchini from Habis’s garden, cut in half and stuffed with mushrooms from the forest). It smelled wonderful.

  “Wow,” Brinley said.

  “I know,” Tabitha said, sniffing the aroma. “Smells wonderful, doesn’t it? Belsie teaches me all sorts of things.”

  As they sat waiting for breakfast to finish, a yellow songbird settled on the rock next to them.

  “Peanut!” Tabitha exclaimed, reaching a hand out. The bird hopped onto her fingers and began singing to her, and when it was finished, Tabitha passed along the message. “He says Archibald caught the cat. Apparently the cat can make the journey into the Void. Archibald says they are on their way there right now and that he’s going to send the cat in to look for your father! He wants to know where he can find you if he needs to speak to you in person.”

  Brinley was speechless. “I don’t know. Here, I guess.”

  Tabitha nodded, gave the message to the bird, and waved as it flew away.

  “That’s quite impressive, don’t you think?” Tabitha said, watching the bird fade into the sky. “Finding your dad so fast, I mean.”

  “Yes,” Brinley said thoughtfully. “Though it sounds like he hasn’t found him yet…What kind of magical cat can travel to the Void? Maybe we should go meet
it.”

  Tabitha glanced out at the lake. “Unda, though,” she said.

  Brinley nodded. “Of course. Of course, I know we can’t go. We need to find Unda. And we’re here already.”

  Tabitha pulled the zucchini off the spit and divided it between them, and they spoke of the lake as they ate, trading ideas about how to contact Unda.

  “Do you think he can breathe under water?” Tabitha wondered.

  “I don’t know. I guess so. He is the Mage of Water, after all.”

  “But can he hear us through the water?”

  Brinley shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “You can’t sense him. Do you think he can sense you?”

  “I don’t know that either,” Brinley said. She leaned against a log and stared dejectedly at her feet. She was starting to feel silly for coming here. She should have found out more about how the mages were hidden.

  “Don’t worry,” Tabitha said, watching her closely. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” Tabitha’s face brightened suddenly. “Maybe we can send him a message.”

  Brinley sat up. “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe he’s down there, but he can’t speak to us. Maybe he can’t hear us, but if we send him a message, he will be able to read it.” Tabitha was combing the shore for something. Finally she picked up a large, flat rock and set it down beside Brinley. Using another small rock like a pencil, she began to scratch a message on the face of the flat one.

  Dear Unda,

  You can come out now. Everything is okay.

  -Brinley (The Magemother)

  When she was done she looked up at Brinley expectantly. “What do you think?” she said.

  “I like it,” Brinley said.

  Tabitha clapped happily. “Oh, good. See? I told you we would think of something. Now you throw it in.”

  Brinley took the stone and eyed the lake. She wondered where she should throw it, or if it even mattered. In the end she decided to just throw it as far as she could. It landed about halfway to the center, disappearing beneath the surface with a loud plop.

  Tabitha appeared at her side, frowning. “What if that’s not where he is?” she asked. “Or what if he just thinks it’s any old rock falling into the lake and he doesn’t bother to check it?”