A Mage Of None Magic (Book 1)
Page 30
Niel sighed deeply as he considered the reply. “I think I may have a proposition for you.”
“Oh?” Arwin responded. “And what makes you think I’m interested in hearing a proposition from the likes of you?”
Niel smiled again, though barely. “Because I think I’m learning to trust my instincts.”
“I see,” he said with exaggerated boredom. “Proceed if you must.”
“I’ve read that the wise are the first to admit ignorance. And right now, I have no idea what I’m doing. I know by rights your obligations to me from your oath in Chael have been concluded, but I was hoping you might be interested in helping a newly-anointed storybook-character-come-to-life change the course of the world.”
“An interesting proposition,” Arwin said. “But in all the tales I’ve read, the hero sort rarely has an easy time of it. What’s in it for me?”
Niel looked away. “That’s a really good question.”
“I tend to ask really good questions,” Arwin said. “Lucky for you, I also have a really good answer. First, obligation to one’s friends is never concluded. You have but to ask, and I’ll do for you whatever I’m able. Not because you may or may not be the Apostate, and not to help my own situation, but because you are indeed just that, Niel—my friend.”
The sentiment was a devastating kindness for which Niel was unprepared despite his hopes for that very response, and it brought him to blink back yet more tears. He promised himself as he had with the professor to learn as much as he could about and from his newfound companions, as people, as friends—beyond the broad brush with which he and the rest of society had already colored them, beyond the hackneyed conventions of warrior, thief, and adventurer.
“And second,” Arwin added cheerfully, “how could I not accept? Just look at what the two of us together have been able to accomplish so far—and all but for the cost of a little black eye.”
Niel’s jaw dropped in dismay at the wretched pun.
He shook his head. “That’s not very funny.”
Arwin inspected his fingernails, despite the fact that it was too dark out to see them. “I beg to differ, thank you.”
For the very last time in his life, Niel laughed.
51
The following day passed quietly as the group settled into planning the tasks ahead. Not even the continuous spectacle of flying high above the world proved much of a distraction, though they did break from their preparations to marvel at the magnificent sunset.
Precisely on schedule, the professor’s ship sailed over the coast as the last blazing fingers of orange from the waning day slipped beneath the horizon. Within a few hours afterward, they reached the outskirts of Edlaan, Lord Deralden’s province.
Cally and Jharal were to disembark a halfnight’s walk from the town of Blaer—not the quickest route to Deralden’s castle by any means, but the town’s remoteness reduced the chance of the ship being spotted. There the two would be able to acquire horses and supplies, then make the remainder of their trip in relatively short order.
Niel stood off to one side with Potchkins as the other four made their good-byes. The affair had little of the solemnity he would have thought appropriate considering how long his companions had known one another—a handful of quips and a perfunctory shaking of hands, the way Niel imagined it must have been when Arwin departed to search for a magician in the first place.
Until that moment Niel had been able to put off dwelling on the magnitude of their collective undertaking. He had moved from one smaller, more immediate concern to the next, and had grown accustomed to the luxury of having more time ahead to think things through. That once plentiful amount of sand in the glass had suddenly dwindled to a pittance, and the long-absent but all-too-familiar fear proffered itself to him again.
“Don’t look so worried,” Jharal boomed, poised to descend the lowered rope ladder. He held up his broken axe handle. “You see this?”
Niel nodded.
“Big, isn’t it?”
He smiled. “Certainly the biggest I’ve ever seen.”
Jharal winked. “You remember that.”
As the dark-skinned giant made his way to the ground, Cally stepped between Arwin and Peck toward Niel. She had removed her sling; publicizing such an injury would be foolish. But by the stiff and deliberate way she carried herself, her sword arm still clearly caused her a good amount of pain.
“You and I have a conversation to finish,” she said, quirking the corner of her mouth. She stepped closer and gently lay a warm palm on the side of his face.
“You stay safe, Niel,” she whispered.
“And you,” Niel replied.
Cally brushed his cheek with her thumb and turned to join Jharal.
“We’ll be safe, too, thanks,” Peck chimed as she passed.
She responded by slapping her good forearm not-so-gently across his chest.
Niel smiled, but stopped when a surprising scent drifted across his face from where she had placed her hand.
Tea rose.
He watched Cally hop from the last rung and land unsteadily on the ground. She limped to where Jharal waited, then the two of them disappeared into the nighttime landscape below.
52
You’re looking well, Lord Elder, all things considered.
“As are you. And thank you, by the way, for your most generous gift. I’m certain we can put it to good use.”
Nothing would please me more. A shame about the girl, though. She had potential, that one.
“Yes, a pity. I’d hoped she’d be more use to me.”
Sadly, that’s often the case with youth. No appreciation for the larger scheme of things.
“True, but there’s always next time. Whenever that may be.”
Or not. I do believe the boy will prove himself a worthy asset. Could cause you considerable difficulties if you’re not careful.
“Then I shall endeavor to be just that. I don’t suppose you’ve any compulsion to tell me precisely where he is, do you?”
None at all, I’m afraid.
“I thought not.”
You know, I can’t help but wonder whether the world would have been much different had the gods and their Sisters been able to get along as amicably as we.
“And I’d begun to fear you’d finally lost your taste for the philosophical. Maybe if the Sisters had been Brothers instead, they might not have been so vicious and self-serving.”
Ever the misogynist. If not Brothers, then perhaps merely good friends.
“I think we both know where that road leads.”
At least I do.
“As you like to claim. Although you above all others should well know that claiming something does not necessarily make it true. Or yours.”
As I’ve been recently reminded—and you’ve been practicing your subtlety. It doesn’t suit you.
“No matter. It’s nothing I haven’t said many times.”
Nor has it grown any more interesting through repetition.
“Mind your temper, old friend. It will be your undoing.”
Not mine alone, my dear Lord Elder. On that you may count.
“I see. As always, this has been most pleasant, but I’m afraid the hour is quite late. You must drop in again, in person next time, when we can talk longer.”
I shall indeed, on that you may also count. I do enjoy visiting the New Tower. Much nicer than the Old. Thank you for your gracious invitation.
“It’s the least I can do.”
Good night then, Bradias—forgive, I did mean Thaucian. I always did have trouble keeping up with all the names you’ve acquired.
“Good night, my dear Uhniethi. And not to worry. For you, any will suffice.”
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None
Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
A. Christopher Drown
A. Christopher Drown
A. Christopher Drown
A. Christopher Drown
A Mage of None Magic
About the Author
A. Christopher Drown is a native of Brunswick, Maine, who currently resides in Memphis. His work has appeared in several magazines and anthologies. The first edition of A Mage of None Magic won the 2010 Darrell Award for Best Novel. His story, Path of an Arrow, received the 2012 Darrell Award for Best Novella. He recently completed his second novel and is at work on The Book of Sediahm, the next book in the Heart of the Sisters series. An award-winning graphic designer, when not slogging away at his trusty Macbook, Pedro, he can be found hiding around a nearby corner waiting to leap out at either of his unsuspecting children.
Find him on Facebook at /achrisdrown.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
A Mage of None Magic
Copyright © 2014 by A. Christopher Drown
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Dedication
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About the Author
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From Editor Joshua Leet!
An Anthology of Animal Companions
Enter the world of the Fey, Faeries, and all things magical!