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

by Austin J. Bailey

  The big man chuckled, casting sidelong glances at his companions. “Knows my name,” he muttered.

  “Yes,” Hugo said, “I know your name.” His mind was racing. This was, sort of, exactly what Animus had been planning, wasn’t it? At least the part about luring Gadjihalt out, confronting him, challenging him to a duel…in a way, everything was going according to plan…apart from the fact that Hugo and Cannon were here alone, without the support of their friends, and they had no way of escaping after Hugo got the sword. Minor details.

  Hugo gulped. Gadjihalt’s forearms were the size of his thighs, and his own thigh was still hurting. He tested it and grimaced. If he ended up fighting Gadjihalt for real, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “You’re coming with us,” Gadjihalt said. “You can walk on your own two feet or go in a bag. Your choice.”

  “Of course,” Hugo said. “Going with you sounds like a wonderful time, but before we go, I’d like to challenge you to a duel.”

  “What?” Gadjihalt croaked, a smile twitching on his beaten face.

  “A duel,” Hugo said easily. “You know, mortal combat. You and me, fight to the death and all that. As a knight of the king, you are bound to accept. I’m sure you remember that.”

  Something twitched again in Gadjihalt’s face, not a smile this time. He did not look pleased at all.

  “What are you doing?” Cannon hissed. “Is this really the right time?”

  Gadjihalt was shaking his head. “I think not, boy. I admire your courage, of course, but I’m afraid that if I accepted, I would be forced to kill you.” He cocked his head. “My master would not appreciate that.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Hugo said, hoping he was right. “I demand to meet you, now, in mortal combat. You are bound by your oath to honor my wishes.”

  Gadjihalt cursed. “So I am,” he whispered. “Who concocted this little plan? Not you. You are too young to realize what you’re playing with.” His eyes scanned the trees, thinking, perhaps, that it was some kind of trap. He raised his hands and made a couple of quick gestures to his men, who fanned out and disappeared into the forest, all save one.

  “If this is a trap,” Gadjihalt said, “then your friends had better spring it quickly, for you are about to die.” He drew the big sword at his side. “I’ll fight you on one condition: that it is not to the death. Like I said, my master would be displeased with me if I returned with a corpse instead of a mage.”

  Hugo nodded. His courage was quickly dissolving now that Gadjihalt had drawn his sword. He was big, bigger than the others, and he moved like a man who had been fighting for a very, very long time. It was obvious how this fight was going to end, if it ever began, of course.

  “Hold on a minute,” Cannon said, coming to his feet. “Doesn’t Hugo here get to pick the weapons?”

  Gadjihalt laughed. “So he does. But he doesn’t have many choices.”

  “I’ll take your sword,” Hugo said quickly. “You take mine.”

  Gadjihalt shot him a dubious look. “An odd request,” he spat. “Trying to disarm me before the fight, eh?”

  “Not at all,” Hugo said, drawing his own sword and offering it, hilt first, to the big man.

  Gadjihalt took it with a grimace and swung his own to Hugo. “Whatever you like,” he spat. “It will make no difference.”

  Hugo glanced down at the sword in his hand. The spiked hilt was warm beneath his fingers, and he couldn’t help wondering why. Was it something of the dragon that kept it warm all these years after it had died? He turned to Cannon.

  “Now?” Cannon asked.

  Hugo nodded. He put a hand on Cannon’s shoulder and stepped away from Gadjihalt and into the night. He didn’t know where they were going. He didn’t have enough time to think about it or search for a safe direction, but it didn’t matter. Anywhere other than where Gadjihalt was would be just fine.

  “Agh,” Cannon grumbled, rubbing his head and leaning against a tree. They had landed in some random spot in the Ire. “I guess that went pretty well. Hugo, are you okay?”

  He wasn’t. Hugo’s head was spinning. Molad had nearly taken over when he had traveled just now. He didn’t understand why. He had done it earlier just fine, but this time when he moved through the darkness, it felt like offering Molad an invitation to join him.

  “He almost got out,” he muttered. “I can’t do that again. Not for a while, at least.”

  Cannon put a hand on his shoulder. “Okay. Don’t worry about it. We won’t need it.” He glanced around them. “Where are we now?”

  There was no way to tell. A forest at night looks pretty much the same on one end as it does on the other.

  “How far did you take us?” Cannon asked.

  Their question was answered when a chorus of rough voices sounded through the trees. “Heard something this way. Couldn’t have gone far. Come on!”

  “Excellent,” Cannon whispered.

  “Sorry,” Hugo said. “I didn’t exactly have time to chart a course.”

  “You can’t travel again?” Cannon asked.

  “Maybe,” Hugo said, frustration mounting. “I don’t know. All I know is he almost got out just now.”

  “Then don’t do it again,” Cannon said. “Follow me.” He crept into the trees in the opposite direction of the voices and Hugo followed. He was surprised at how quietly Cannon could move through the forest. Soon the voices behind them had died down considerably, then they were gone altogether. Eventually, Cannon paused to rest against a tree.

  “Good. I think we got away.”

  “What’s that up ahead?” Hugo asked. There was something bright in front of them. They had caught sight of it now and then for the last few minutes, but neither one of them had bothered mentioning it. It didn’t really matter what it was. It was in the direction that they needed to go.

  “Guess we’ll find out,” Cannon said.

  It was the Hoarfrost Forest. It couldn’t possibly be anything else. A huge expanse of gray trees and hard ground, still rivers, and frozen waterfalls, all of it covered in a thin, icy frost.

  “We can’t go this way,” Cannon said.

  “Come on back, then,” Gadjihalt said, stepping out from behind a tree to their rear. “They’re over here, boys!” he shouted behind him.

  Hugo dashed into the frozen wood with Cannon right behind him. To their surprise, Gadjihalt did not follow them. One by one his men emerged from the forest, each one coming to stand silently beside him.

  “You can’t stay in there forever!” Gadjihalt shouted after them. “I’ll be waiting for you here when you come back out.”

  ***

  Hugo shivered, clutching his chest with his arms. Cannon stood beside him. They were both staring, yet again, at one of Gadjihalt’s soldiers blocking their way out of the frozen patch of trees. They had crossed the little wasteland quickly; it was only a half mile across. But when they came to the other side, Gadjihalt was there, waiting for them, and they were forced to turn back. They had tried several times now, coming out of the center of the wood in new directions, hoping to find the way open for their escape, but each time, they had been disappointed. Now they were getting seriously cold.

  Cannon collapsed beside Hugo, shivering so badly that his teeth chattered. “Can’t go on,” Cannon said through the cold. “I’m done. T-they can take us.”

  “They’ll kill us,” Hugo said.

  “Then at least we’ll die w-warm.”

  Hugo lifted Cannon to his feet. “I’m just going to have to travel again,” he said. “We don’t have any other choice.”

  Cannon’s head jerked in a nod. “But what if Mr. P-poopy Pants comes out?”

  Hugo handed Gadjihalt’s sword over to Cannon. “Take this,” he said. “Keep it away from me, if you can. If I run off or something, make sure it gets out of the Ire.”

  Cannon’s head jerked again.

  Hugo closed his eyes, reaching into the night, feeling after the darkness of the Ire, looking for a s
afe place to move to. Almost at once, he felt Molad stirring in his mind. The world spun for a moment, and he lost track of what was going on. Then he released the darkness, and reality returned.

  “He’s definitely going to come out if I move us,” Hugo said. “I may not even be able to.”

  Cannon didn’t respond. He was shivering harder now.

  “Here,” he said, giving Cannon his cloak. “I’m not as cold as you are.”

  “You’re c-crazy,” Cannon said, but he took the cloak.

  Hugo? Brinley’s voice said in his head.

  Brinley? he answered. Where are you?

  Here in the Ire. We followed you. We used the king’s medallion to get in. Tabitha and I are here, and Tobias too. Animus wanted to come too, but I wouldn’t let him. Where are you?

  Hugo couldn’t believe his good luck. Just when he was about to mess everything up again by releasing Molad.

  Brinley, he said, I’m so glad you’re here. I mean, seriously, you got here just in time. We’re surrounded by Gadjihalt and his men. I have his sword!

  You’re kidding! Where are you?

  In the Hoarfrost Forest.

  The what?

  It’s this little patch of enchanted trees. It’s freezing here, like winter. You have to hurry, Cannon isn’t looking good.

  But where is it? Brinley asked. I can’t feel you in here. I didn’t know where you had gone at all until Cassis told me what happened. I can’t sense you at all in this place.

  It has something to do with the Ire, Hugo said. Cannon’s powers don’t work here either.

  How am I going to find you? Brinley said. We’re flying over the trees. Can you climb one?

  No…Hugo said, looking around desperately. Even if he could grip the slippery, ice-covered trees, there were no branches low enough to grab hold of, the canopy above was too thick to climb through. He would never reach the top before it was too late. He racked his brain. There had to be a way. Something simple, probably. He told Cannon what was going on.

  “Build a fire,” Cannon said.

  “With what?” Everything around them was frozen solid.

  I can help, came Molad’s voice.

  I don’t want your help. Hugo said fiercely. I don’t need your help.

  Yes, you do, Molad said. Look around you.

  Hugo heard a twig crack somewhere off to his left and looked up to see one of Gadjihalt’s men advancing through the frozen trees. They were finally coming in after them. He turned around, looking for more, and found them. There were men advancing on all sides now. They were a long way off still, moving slowly, cautiously.

  “They’re afraid w-we’ll run again,” Cannon said.

  Where are you, Hugo? Brinley called. Her voice sounded farther away now.

  I think you’re going the wrong way, Hugo said. Come back.

  Another twig cracked. Hugo turned to see the man who had blocked their escape earlier. He, too, had entered the frozen trees now. There was someone beside him. It looked like Gadjihalt. He would be on them soon.

  Hugo placed the flat of his hand against the frosty bark of a tree. He focused all his thoughts on it, willing it to burst into flame, to give Brinley a light in the darkness, but nothing happened.

  Laughter filled his mind. Molad. Light and Darkness are two halves of the same coin, Hugo. You can’t have one without the other.

  Hugo groaned. “Fine!”

  Help me, he said, opening the prison that he had locked Molad in earlier. Suddenly his chest was filled with fire, light, and the power that he had been looking for. Even as he felt the darkness engulf him, the light was there. He touched the tree and it erupted into flame, leaping from branch to branch until there were five, ten, fifteen trees alight around them.

  “Ooh,” Cannon said dimly, holding up his hands to warm them by the fire. “That’s n-nice.”

  We see you! Brinley shouted. We’re coming!

  Cannon pulled himself up with an effort, holding onto Hugo’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said seriously. “If we get out of this alive, I think you and I might have to just give in and be friends.”

  Hugo barely heard either of them. Molad was not going quietly back into his cell. For a moment, Hugo thought he might be able to win the struggle, but then he heard a shout and turned to see Gadjihalt lumbering towards him, and his mind filled with fear.

  “I mean it Hugo,” Cannon went on, oblivious to the silent struggle that raged inside his friend. “I promise to help you, if I can. I don’t want to see you go nuts and die, you know. That’s friendship, eh?” He jabbed Hugo in the ribs with an elbow as Brinley descended on them, but Hugo neither heard nor felt any of this. He was in the dark cell of his own mind again, locked out of the world he had been a part of only moments before. He beat his fist against the inside of his own head furiously, mad at Molad for being so strong, mad at himself for being so weak, so ignorant, mad at Gadjihalt for distracting him, mad at the whole world.

  Molad sniffed the air, smelled fire. Burning. Was it his doing? He couldn’t remember. He took it all in quickly, Gadjihalt running at him, Cannon standing up beside him looking at the sky, the Magemother descending on them from above on a great black swan. He sniffed the air again, smelled fire, and something behind it. Something deep in the woods. Darkness, shadow, the thing that he had come for. He stepped into the night and was gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  In which there is no way out

  Molad stood beneath four tall, twisted trees. Their great arms met in front of him at shoulder height, cradling a black box. The darkness was coming from in there. Yes…he remembered this box. It was old, very old. The Panthion, it was called, made by the mages and locked by the Magemother herself. This was what he had come for.

  He took a step toward it and crushed something with his boot. He looked down. There was something green under his foot. As he watched, it grew into a bush, blocking his path to the box. He tried to skirt it, but the bush grew into a hedge and swept around him with a sound like leaves rustling in the wind. Before he knew it, he was surrounded on all sides by a green wall ten feet tall. He drew the dagger from his boot and hacked at it. Wherever he struck it, the hedge regrew.

  He twisted into shadow and seeped through the leaves, but the branches tightened around him, growing so thick that not a sliver of light could penetrate them. He returned to his own shape and began to walk along the hedge wall. There were three openings that led out of the little clearing that held him. One directly across from where he knew the box was and two on the sides. He took one of the side exits, hoping that the hedge would veer back toward the box. It did, at first, then led him in a different direction. Then there was another intersection, and he took the path that seemed to be going back toward the box. He came across another intersection, then another. Soon he had made so many turns that he lost track of which direction he was headed, and where the box might be.

  He wove his way into the maze until all thought of finding the box had vanished from his mind, and all that was left was a desire to be free. Then, at last, he took another turn and found himself on a wide green field. He could not see the end of it in any direction, just emptiness before him and the hedge behind. He turned to look at the maze, wondering if he should stay in it and exit somewhere else, someplace less empty, but the maze was gone. A single tree now stood behind him, a tall oak, ramrod straight, its leaves splayed against the faint moonlight. One eye opened in the bark halfway up, then another.

  Wooden lips parted and spoke to him. “What are you?” it said. “I have not seen you in this forest before.”

  Molad stiffened. “You’re the hedge,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and the tree didn’t answer. “I am the Mage of Light and Darkness. Who are you?”

  “False,” the tree whispered. “I have met the Mage of Light and Darkness. You are not him.”

  Molad grimaced. “Lux Tennebris is no more. I am Molad.”

  “Prove it,” the tree said. “Show me your other side. Show me
your twin.”

  Molad sneered. “I think not. He locks me away. I lock him away. I will not let him out just to convince a tree of who I am.” He glanced around himself again, searching for something in the emptiness of the plain, but found nothing. “Where am I?” he demanded. “I must get back to the box.”

  The tree swayed slightly, though there was no wind. “I do not think that is a good idea,” it said.

  Molad squinted darkly at the tree. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” he said, and he twisted into darkness. He seeped into the bark of the tree, into the leaves, searching out the life that was in it. He poured darkness into the mind of the tree, attacking it as he had attacked the beast from the bog, but the tree just laughed. The laughter startled Molad, shaking him to his core. He felt Hugo bend a bar in the wall of his cell, and Molad straightened it quickly, calming himself.

  The tree was still chuckling. “I have lived in the darkness too long to be frightened of the darkness that lives in me,” it said. It stopped laughing abruptly. “You are indeed the Mage of Light and Darkness. Why have you come here?”

  Molad considered answering the question and then decided not to. He simply turned and twisted into darkness again, sliding across the field. He stopped short. The tree was in front of him again. He looked back. Only the empty plain was there. Had he turned around without realizing it? He went off in a new direction and the tree appeared before him. He turned, and again the tree blocked his path. Feeling a sudden rush of anger, he charged the tree. With a motion that he barely saw coming, the arms of the great oak caught him and slammed him against the ground. He stared up at it, dazed, and the oak stared down at him.

  “Molad?” it asked.

  “Let go of me,” Molad hissed. When he spoke, the tree lifted him skyward and slammed him into the ground a second time, and all went black.