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

by Austin J. Bailey

  Hugo sat down on the stone floor across from him and Cannon came to stand beside them, folding his arms thoughtfully.

  Shael glanced up at Hugo with penetrating eyes. “Do you want to be light or dark?” he asked.

  Hugo gave him a long look. “Light,” he said, and they began to play.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  In which Brinley stands alone

  Hours later, the sun was setting on Aberdeen as King Remy and his retinue crossed into Inveress. As the last one to go through, he paused and took a step back to shake Brinley’s hand.

  “Thank you for what you have done in hiding my people,” he said formally. “Sometimes there is no easy way out, but you have given this world more of a chance than we could have hoped for without you.” He hesitated for a moment. “Archibald wanted to stay behind and face Shael with you. Said that if one of your fathers got to stay behind, then the other one might as well do the same.” The king laughed. “But I told him I needed him. We’ll have to learn to share him, you and I.” He glanced around. “By the way, did you see him cross over? I could have sworn he was with me a moment ago. Must have already gone. Well, no matter…” Suddenly he looked nervous. “If you should see Hugo…If there is anything that you can do for him, please…I mean to say, I do not know what he might have become in there, now that he is a mage, but he is a good boy…” He glanced down. “I know that you will do what you can for him.”

  “I will,” Brinley promised. She placed a hand on her heart. “I feel him still. He lives, I can tell you that. And whatever he may have endured in the Panthion, I do not believe that he has fallen.”

  The king nodded. “If he lives. If he becomes what he was meant to be, will I know him? Will I be able to understand my own son?”

  Brinley gave him a warm smile. “Maybe not,” she said honestly. “Or maybe his path is simpler than we can understand. But no matter what happens, he will always be your son.”

  King Remy straightened up proudly, tightening his belt. “Of course he will,” he said, rubbing at something in his eyes. “Don’t know what has come over me. Well, you just ring if you need anything.” He gave her a wink, then turned back and shut his eyes, jumping over the edge with an effort.

  That just left the mages. She turned to face Animus, Belterras, Cassis, and Chantra standing around her in a semicircle.

  “You’ll do fine,” Animus said, reading her mind. “If you need to ring the bell right away, do not hesitate, but if you can, wait until he does not expect an attack. If he comes out of hiding and sees only you, he may relax. We may gain some momentum in the battle by ambushing him when his guard is down. Timing will be everything. Do not forget that it is better to reveal us prematurely than risk yourself being taken by him.”

  “He will probably talk with you,” Cassis pointed out. “If I had been locked in a box for as long as he has, I would have something to say about it.”

  Belterras nodded. “Don’t get pulled in by his words. Keep your wits about you, and strike as soon as you sense that he has become distracted.”

  “And make sure you’re not standing close to him when you do ring it,” Chantra said, rubbing her hands together almost gleefully. “Because he is going to burst into flames the second you do.”

  “Remember,” Brinley said, “if you see March on the battlefield, be careful with her. She may still have my mother’s naptrap on her. It is not as fragile as it looks, but I’m sure a direct blow from a sword or a spear could destroy it.”

  “We will be careful,” Animus assured her. For a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something else, but he simply inclined his head and stepped past her, gliding gently off the edge of the bridge.

  Chantra followed suit, but Cassis pulled up beside her and paused.

  “Here is a little something,” he said, and he pulled an elegant dagger from beneath his cloak. It had a white bone handle with a round silver pommel and guard, and when he slipped it out of its sheath, the blade licked the red light of the sunset like a hungry flame. “The blade is mage steel. Of my own making.” He gave her a stern look. “If you need it, then you’ve waited far too long to ring that bell.”

  Before she could say thank you, he strode away and dropped like a stone off the end of the bridge.

  Belterras promptly took the dagger out of her hands and tucked it into her belt for her. Then he pulled her into a bear hug and pushed a small loaf of bread at her with one end bitten off.

  “Nice warm loaf,” he said through a full mouth. “To calm the nerves. Does the trick every time. Better than daggers.” He stepped to the edge and swallowed hard. “I’m proud of you, Magemother. Whatever happens, we’re all proud of you.” And then he too was gone.

  A black swan glided over the side of the bridge and Tabitha slipped into her own shape. “Oh, did I miss them?” she said.

  Brinley nodded. “Did you pick a spot?”

  “Oh, did I! Yes—Archibald helped me with it earlier. I’m so glad you let me choose! There’s a nice big rock for us to hide behind, and a very pretty river that should be beautiful in the sunset when Shael comes out.”

  Brinley slapped a hand to her forehead. “Tabitha, you were supposed to be picking a spot that gave us a tactical advantage, not finding the prettiest spot to potentially die in.”

  Tabitha gasped. “I wasn’t thinking of that. I was just thinking that Shael’s been in there so long, he should have something nice to look at when he comes out. I mean, it might distract him. Anyway, come along and I’ll show you. Your dad’s waiting for us.”

  Tabitha shifted back into the giant swan, and Brinley wrapped her arms around the bird’s graceful neck. They soared to the northern edge of the city and landed on a sloping stretch of grass beside the bridge to the Wizard’s Ire. The bridge looked ominous, with the shadows of evening creeping across it, completely unguarded for the first time that she had seen.

  “Very nice,” Brinley said with a grin. “This way it will be easy to see if he breaks the barrier.”

  Tabitha nodded happily. “That’s just what I thought. And look, you can set the box right here in this little valley in the grass, and then you can run and hide behind that rock with us.” She pointed to a large boulder a few yards away, which sat just in front of the slowly moving river.

  Her father stepped out from behind the boulder with a long, deadly looking hammer in his hands.

  “Woah,” Brinley said.

  He tapped the hammer thoughtfully. “Intimidating, isn’t it? I would still rather have my Winchester, but at least I have used a hammer before…Lovely spot, this,” he added, looking around. “Very nice river.”

  “It’s the Gan-Gara,” Tabitha said, spreading her arms proudly, “and it is going to be our secret weapon.”

  “It is?” Brinley said.

  “Oh, yes,” Tabitha replied. “Watch.” She took a few steps away from them and turned into the great white dragon, then she stomped her massive forefoot into the ground, tearing out soil and rocks with her three-foot-long claws.

  “Ah!” Brinley shrieked as a rather large rock tumbled toward her. Her father pulled her to safety, and they continued to watch as she dug a trench in a wide half-circle toward the river.

  “What is she doing?” Brinley said.

  “I think she’s making a moat,” her father answered. “Look.”

  Tabitha connected her trench with the river so that water ran down it to the end of the half circle and filled it up. Then she returned to the place that she had started and dug in the opposite direction. In a few minutes, they were on a little island of grass, surrounded by a muddy moat.

  Tabitha turned back into herself then, and returned to them. One of her arms was covered in mud, and she was breathing at a steady pace. “See?” she said eagerly.

  “Uh…yes.” Brinley was still unsure of how their little moat would be helpful in a fight against a powerful wizard.

  “No, you don’t,” Tabitha said. “Look!”

  Brinley loo
ked at the moat again and was surprised to see that it had attracted several occupants. Four or five heads rose slowly out of the water. On some, pale blue skin was visible, while on others it was obscured by the mud from the moat. Soon five heads became ten, and then ten became twenty. Before long, their little island was surrounded. The people could not seem to leave the water, or breathe air, because they kept dipping back down into it, but Brinley saw gleaming spears in their hands, and she knew that they had come to fight.

  “Those guys are on our side, right?” her father asked, a note of concern in his voice.

  “Oh, yes,” Tabitha said. “Look, there’s Fitz! I knew he would come.” Tabitha rushed over to one of the younger men. He seemed to be someone important, for several of the others inclined their heads to him and backed away to give Tabitha a wide berth.

  She spoke with him a moment and then returned, and Brinley noticed that he reached out and held her hand for a moment before she left.

  Tabitha returned (with a remarkable amount of bounce in her step, considering the circumstances) and said, “The nymph warriors have come to fight. Fitz is leading them in battle. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Tabitha, how do you know these people?”

  “If I may say so, Tabitha,” Ben said, “it looks like Fitz thinks you’re wonderful.”

  Tabitha blushed. “Well, we’ve been through a lot together.”

  “You have?” Brinley said. “Am I missing something?”

  “Well,” Tabitha said, twisting a finger in her hair, “Yes and no. It’s a long story. Fitz is your cousin, actually, which makes him practically family for me…”

  “My cousin? What?” Brinley asked, taken aback. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  Tabitha briefly recounted the story of her trip into the nymph kingdom, and of her promise to find Brinley’s mother and restore her to her people.

  “But I had no idea that my mother was…was…”

  “A nymph queen?” her father said, scratching his head. He eyed his daughter thoughtfully. “Well, I always thought that you might be royalty.”

  Brinley blushed and then rounded on Tabitha. “When were you going to tell me all this?”

  “Oh,” Tabitha said, twirling her hair again, “I promised Archibald I wouldn’t say anything. Anyway, I think it’s better that you found out now, when you don’t have too much time to think about it.”

  Ben chuckled and Brinley glanced at the sky. “You’re right about one thing, Tabitha. We don’t have much time left.”

  Ben bent down behind the boulder, and when he came back, the Panthion was in his hands. He handed it to her, and she turned back to the little depression in the island. As she approached it, the nymph warriors sunk back into the water cautiously, so that only their eyes and the tips of their spears could be seen on the dark surface of the moat.

  Brinley stumbled on a particularly soft patch of grass as she entered the little valley and nearly dropped the box, but she caught it just in time and set it down.

  She put one hand on the hilt of her dagger, then changed her mind and reached into her bag instead. She felt around for both bells and gripped the handle of the smaller one tightly, then she bent down and touched the lid of the box.

  “Don’t do that just yet, Magemother,” a sharp voice said.

  Brinley gave a shout and jumped backward. Across the little moat, March was walking toward her slowly out of the twilight. Each step she took was carefully placed, and her eyes were glued on Brinley.

  “I saw what happened here today,” March said. “You may have hidden your people, but you cannot win this war.”

  Brinley reached for the lid again but March hissed at her. “Wait! I have something that you want.” She pulled the naptrap out from her robes, lifted it free of her head, and held it before her like a question. Time seemed to stop for a moment as the last rays of sunshine glinted off the crystal vial and the sun sank below the horizon. “Give me the bell,” March said, “and your mother goes free.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  The witch’s face twisted in a sneer. “Give me the bell, girl. It’s not nice to play tricks. My father will not be pleased.”

  “I bet he won’t be pleased with you, either,” Brinley said, “when he finds out that you let me trick him.”

  March tossed the naptrap into the air and laughed as Brinley lunged for it. The witch caught it again with a sniff and said, “Give it to me now, or I am going to take it from you. It was not wise for you to stay behind by yourself. So unprotected. So…exposed.” She grinned and raised her arm, and two dozen large shapes rose out of the grass behind her. Brinley had not noticed them before. They had seemed like nothing more than little hills in the twilight shadows, but these hills had legs. And teeth. There was a scarred, fever-driven bear, an eagle as broad as three men, and a large black bird that moved through the grass more like a snake than a creature of flight. March pointed at Brinley and the bear charged, leaping across the moat.

  Three silver spears shot out of the water as it passed over, and when he landed on Brinley’s side of the moat, he did not get up.

  There was a deep, throaty rumble from behind Brinley, and she glanced back to glimpse a long white tail slipping out from behind the rock. Tabitha lit into the sky, and Brinley’s father was on her back.

  “So!” March shouted. “You are not alone after all!” She pointed at the dragon, and the myriad black shapes in the grass behind her shrieked with excitement. Tabitha loosed a jet of fire at the closest one, a giant spider taller than a man (Brinley felt like screaming just looking at it), but it skittered out of the way just in time. Tabitha banked too close to the grass, and a creature with fur and fangs flew out of the darkness and snagged her wing, pulling her to the ground. It fell a moment later to a second jet of fire, but the damage had been done. Tabitha’s wing was held tight to her body, and Brinley could tell she would not be flying again. Dark shapes slipped in and out of the shadows around her, beginning to circle.

  “No!” Brinley said, looking on.

  March chuckled. “Now it is just you and me.” She raised her hands sharply and a black panther stood up at her side. The strange, slithering bird landed on her other side, and together, the three of them moved toward the moat at a steady pace.

  Several spear tips dipped in and out of the water menacingly, but March did not slow. When she reached the edge of the grassy bank, she paused while the two animals continued moving. To Brinley’s surprise, they did not jump over the water. Instead, they walked right to the edge and leapt in, thrusting their bodies upon the spears of the nymph warriors. March hopped onto their backs, dodging this way and that to avoid the spears that slipped past the two animals, and then she was standing at Brinley’s side. She gave Brinley a grim, satisfied smile and took a step away from the moat.

  “Now then,” she began, but her next words were cut off as a warrior leaped out of the water behind her. It was Fitz. He jumped in a high arc, so that by the time she turned around he was already directly above her head, spear raised. He brought it down and released it. She caught it in the air, but could not stop it completely. She shrieked as the tip pierced her shoulder, but she managed to pull it out and catch Fitz in the head with the end of the shaft.

  He changed directions sharply in the air and splashed back into the moat.

  March dropped the spear in disgust and rounded on Brinley.

  “Give me the bell!” she demanded.

  Brinley stumbled backward, tripping once again on the loose patch of grass, but managed to regain her footing.

  “I will not let you play cheap tricks on my father,” March said, her voice dangerously low. “Give me the bell or I will crush your mother here and now.” She clenched the naptrap close to her chest, squeezing it so tight that her knuckles went white.

  Brinley lifted the bell half out of her bag before she stopped herself. She couldn’t hand over Aberdeen’s best hope of defeating Shael, no matter what the cost to her perso
nally. And she couldn’t ring it, either. There couldn’t be more than a few minutes left before her time ran out. She had to open the box before she summoned the armies.

  Gritting her teeth, Brinley planted her feet in the grass and drew the dagger from her belt. The blade flashed with reflected light as fire erupted to the left. Brinley glanced sideways and saw the white dragon fighting fiercely on the other side of the moat. The lifeless bodies of ten dark shapes littered the grass, but there were plenty still alive. Her father was on the ground now, swinging his hammer. She heard the distinct crack of metal on bone, and the wild, frenzied scream of an animal, and then he fell out of sight as Tabitha moved in front of him.

  “Fine,” March said. Her voice was a whisper now. “Alive or dead, I shall take it from you just the same.” Still clenching the naptrap to her chest with her left hand, she raised her right hand high into the air. A green light danced around her fingers, growing in intensity as she drew back her arm, poised to throw. She stepped forward slightly and her foot brushed the loose patch of grass. A second later, the grass erupted skyward, followed by a black bowler hat and the gleaming silver tip of a cane.

  March screamed and stepped back, but she was too slow. Archibald brought the handle of his cane up against the bottom of her chin and her head snapped back. She stumbled and groaned, then bared her teeth like a rabid animal and screamed, lunging at him. Emerald light sparked in the palm of her hand as she brought it up. He rushed her, closing the distance between them in a single leap, and brought the cane across her chest with his full strength.