Honor Raconteur - Lost Mage (Advent Mage Cycle 06)

by Unknown

  “I’m sure it is,” I responded absently, eyes still trained on the trio arguing it out. “Cloud should be sure of this, too. After all, Nreesces were created from normal horses in the very beginning.”

  “Advent Eve’s knowledge telling you that?”

  “You gotta love being Jaunten sometimes.”

  I missed something, as Becca had gotten a response from Cloud, because she responded in exasperation, “Well, how do you expect to become one if you won’t even go to the island?”

  Tail, at her feet, growled something that just sounded derisive.

  Becca scooted in a little closer, voice crooning, “I’ll feed you peanut butter. Just like a real Nreesce would eat.”

  Cloud looked at her steadily, then at the boat, before giving a long sigh.

  Beaming, she rubbed at his nose. “That’s a good Cloud.”

  A handler from the ship (who looked bemused by this conversation), cautiously approached and tried to lead Cloud up the gangplank and into the ship again. This time, it worked.

  Pleased with herself, Becca scooped up her cat and skipped back toward us. I swear, you’d mistake her for a Life Mage if you didn’t know better. Since when did she know how to speak horse, anyway?

  “What were you saying, Gorgeous, about peanut butter not working?”

  “I stand corrected.”

  Our marriage that night was pleasantly simple and fun. Also nerve-wracking. At least for me it was. Aletha seemed perfectly at ease—excited, but hardly nervous. I think it was just me that had a momentary chill chase its way up my spine as I realized that I had not just one, but now two women that I’d sworn to see protected and happy. I’d fought in multiple battles, against opponents armed with everything from swords to magic, and helped to chase down and eliminate an entire magic order.

  Keeping those two oaths would be much harder.

  Still, I felt that working for a future with my two girls would be entirely worth it after I got a good look at them. Aletha was dressed in a stunning red dress, looking feminine in a way that I’d rarely seen her. In fact, the last time I recalled seeing her look that deliciously gorgeous was at Garth and Chatta’s wedding.

  Becca wore her new blue dress, her hair done up in ringlets, and she must have been a little too entranced by it, as she kept rising up on her toes and doing pirouettes.

  Tail found a high beam to sit on and ignored us entirely.

  The captain found us at the door, as promised, and led us to the front of the room where the head table was laid out with a banquet of food. In a loud voice, she announced our ceremony was beginning, then oversaw us as we exchanged vows and rings. I kissed my new wife (to much cheering and catcalling), and then we spent the rest of the night partying.

  I regretted that the next morning. Did you know that you could be hung over from eating too much?

  For the next four days of the journey, I adjusted to being an old married man. Strange, how I thought I knew this woman so well, and yet as a wife, I didn’t know her at all. We were somewhat awkward around each other at first, trying to find our rhythm in this new partnership, but eventually we found our stride and settled tentatively into it.

  Aletha and I both took turns sitting topside with Becca and working with her on her control. We encouraged her to use her magic here as she had on the schooner, speeding us along. In a massive ship like this, we wouldn’t get near the speed we did last time, but we were sailing at a faster clip.

  I think Captain Kawajan suspected we were up to something, as she often paused and watched these sessions with suspicious eyes. She didn’t say anything to us, though. After all, a captain that made it to port early got a bonus. If I were her, I certainly wouldn’t risk losing that bonus by prying.

  Aletha and I didn’t know much about magic, but our simple presence next to Becca as she worked her magic seemed to be a steadying force. After all this practice, she hardly felt nervous anymore, but she still didn’t get far from us as she coaxed the winds to push us along. I often had the little girl and cat in my lap for hours at a time.

  As I sat there with Becca, it reminded me of something from my own childhood. In fact, magic element aside, it strongly put me in mind of a nightly habit my father and I had.

  One of my favorite memories with my father was lying out on the grass and stargazing with him. We didn’t know much about the heavens, but it was a good chance for me to just connect with him. I knew that when we were out there, my mother wouldn’t disturb us and I could ask him whatever question that came into my head. I asked him some pretty absurd things, too, but he always answered me.

  It was only as an adult that I realized, half the time, he hadn’t known the answer and was making things up out of hot air. Still, the answers hadn’t been important most of the time. What had been important was that he listened to me and was willing to answer me.

  I didn’t know much about combing hair, or shopping, or any of those other things that girls do. But I’d like to think I knew a little about how to be a good father figure, considering I’d had a good role model.

  So after dinner, I whispered my plan to Aletha, then snagged Becca and dragged her up to the foredeck, where we could have space and privacy.

  “What are we doing?” Becca asked me as I sank onto the decking.

  “Stargazing,” I answered promptly.

  That must have sounded suitably romantic, as she gave a pleased “Oh!” and plunked right down next to me.

  We shifted and squirmed about until we were both flat on our backs and comfortable. I had an arm tucked under my head, and my other arm was being used by Becca for her pillow. She gazed up in silence for a long time. “They’re pretty.”

  “They are,” I agreed.

  The waves lapped against the side of the ship, and a mild breeze drifted over us. It was a perfect night for stargazing, and I was suddenly proud of myself for thinking of it.

  “Shad?” Becca wiggled about until she was propped up on my chest.

  “Hmmm?”

  “How did you become the best soldier ever?”

  Now there was a question few had thought to ask me. They usually asked if I could teach someone else to be as good as I was. “Well, it’s quite the story, sweetie.”

  Her jaw firmed in a mulish slant.

  Not put-off by this, eh? I grinned at her. “Alright, from the beginning, then. I was rather young when the Magic War broke out. Just turning fourteen. I was in a fair-sized city at the time, and I saw more than one duel break out right in front of me. I watched them—usually from a safe distance—battle it out with each other, and I realized that as dangerous as magic was, it took time to cast a spell. In fact, an archer can aim and release an arrow as fast as a magician can cast a curse. Watching them work, I had this crazy idea that I could run faster than they could cast, and beat them with sheer speed.”

  She blinked at me. “Could you?”

  “Not at first.” I laughed in memory. “But the first year you’re training in swordsmanship, a turtle stands a good chance against you. Your muscles aren’t used to the weight of the practice sword, much less a real broadsword. You’re not quick enough to do anything. But the idea just wouldn’t leave my mind. I was convinced that if only I practiced a little harder, a little longer than everyone else, I really could do it.”

  “So you did.”

  “Well, I cheated a little,” I admitted. “I created arm and leg weights that I could strap on. I practiced with them, ate and slept and did everything with those weights on me. It was hard at first. I felt like I was in constant pain and dragging through every step. But eventually I got used to the weights.”

  “And you got faster?” she guessed, intrigued by this.

  “And I got faster,” I confirmed. “And then I made heavier weights.”

  She blinked, head jerking back a little. “What? Why?”

  “Because I still wasn’t fast enough. I put on heavier weights, and when I got used to those, I put on another set of heavier weights, a
nd I kept doing that until I could keep up with any other swordsman even with the weights on. My master watched me do this, and didn’t say a word for two years as I trained under him, but eventually he came to me and said, ‘Well, boy, you’re serious about this. I can see that. Might as well give you proper training.’ I didn’t know what he meant at first, but then he took me to a different training field and showed me. He’d fashioned an obstacle course specifically designed to challenge me and my so-called speed.” I could still see it in my mind’s eye, and my body remembered it clearly. “It had all sorts of things that I had to run around, jump over, dodge, and slice in order to make it through unscathed.”

  Becca looked at my face uncertainly. “Did you?”

  “Not the first hundred times.” I chuckled low and long. “I might have if he’d let me take my weights off, but of course he didn’t. After that first hundred times, I got the hang of it. Then he changed the course and I ran it again another hundred times. I did that for three months straight before he finally let me take the weights off.”

  “And then you were fast enough?”

  “And then I was fast enough.” My eyes were looking up toward the heavens, but I didn’t see the stars above me. “And then I was almost too fast. My body was so used to the weights that I felt like I was flying whenever I ran or fought. I had to get used to not having them on, and that took a good week. But after that, no magician stood a chance against me. I could fight them all, with just a sword in my hand, and subdue them. It was a blessing and a curse.” Seeing that she didn’t understand what I meant by that, I tried to explain. “You see, when you’re that strong, where few people can fight you, it invites even worse trouble. I could protect a lot of people, true, but because I was so good, they sent me to the frontlines, to the worst parts of the battle. They knew I stood a better chance of facing off the magicians than anyone else, you see. And it was because I fought on the frontlines that I was injured so badly that they’d had no choice but to put me in a crystal and hope I survived.”

  “But it’s a good thing you lived.” She sounded so certain of that.

  Well, to her, my backstory was a legend. One that she was privileged enough to hear from the man himself. She didn’t understand the loss I felt when I realized how much time had passed and that my family was long since gone. It had been dark days. In fact, it’d taken me months to come to terms with it. If not for Xiaolang, and his quiet support, I wasn’t sure I would have fared as well. The fact that I’d been given a ready mission to save Chahir had also helped tremendously. It’d given me something to do, a clear goal to achieve, instead of letting me stew in my grief. Thanks to my team, I’d been able to work through things and find a path in life again.

  Of course, my chosen path had just taken a sharp turn, thanks to a certain Gardener with an agenda, but I didn’t mind that, either. It was just an extension of saving Chahir, to my mind.

  Aletha’s dark head came up the stairs to where she was just visible. “I hate to interrupt, but it’s getting late.”

  Oh. Now, had she been hovering just out of sight, eavesdropping? I wouldn’t put it past her. I took a better look at the moon and realized that she was right, it had gotten late. “Right, then. Off to bed we go.”

  I grabbed the girl and slung her over my shoulder like a barbarian carrying off spoils of war. She squealed and giggled as I tickled her behind the knees. (Note to self: that was a weak point, remember that.)

  Aletha unfairly rescued her at Becca’s cabin door and helped her get ready for bed. This involved a lot of giggling, for some reason. I was washed, dressed, and in bed before Aletha made it back to our cabin.

  As I listened to my new wife putter about getting ready for bed, I fell into a light doze, which lasted until she climbed into bed next to me. It let a mean draft of cool air in under the covers, which she made up for by cuddling into my right side. Aletha snuggled in close, head on my shoulder and whispered softly, “Do you regret it? That decision you made at fourteen.”

  So she had been listening. Well, she was a consummate sneak, after all.

  I pondered her question for a moment, turning it over in my mind. “No,” I decided at last. “I really can’t regret it. Because it was my speed, my ability to fight when no one else could, that saved my family and friends from danger. I can’t even unwish being stuck in that thrice-cursed crystal for two hundred years. I can’t unwish you.”

  She tilted enough to press a kiss against my jaw. “Thank you, darling.”

  I smiled and squeezed her a little tighter. She might take the words as flattery, but I meant it.

  For a long moment, we just lay there, enjoying each other’s company. Aletha broke the comfortable silence by asking suddenly, “Have you ever thought that maybe you were meant to be in this time?”

  Giving my brain a second to turn that over didn’t do an ounce of good. I still didn’t understand what she was driving at. “Come again?”

  “Garth often said that ley line or not, he couldn’t understand why the healing spells on the crystal lasted as long as they did. They really should have run out, or worn down, decades before. When he said that the first time, I didn’t pay much attention, but later on, I wondered. We’ve seen the Gardeners have a direct hand in people’s lives before, meddling when they deem a person necessary. Don’t you wonder if they did that with you?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she was being silly, that there was no way that could be the case, and yet the words wouldn’t come.

  We knew from the records that the Weather Mages had disappeared more or less five months before I was sealed into the crystal.

  The Gardeners would know that the magical line had ended, and it would likely take some time to bring it back, as the condition of the land was directly under their care.

  They knew it would take an Earth Mage to get me out of that crystal.

  They knew that it would take years, if not decades, for Chahir to be able to accept magic again.

  They had to have known that there would be many magicians, and precious magical bloodlines, that would be at risk when magic was revived.

  And who had they called when those dangers became apparent?

  Me.

  “Shad. Breathe.”

  I had to remind myself I knew how to do that.

  Aletha popped her head up to look at my face. “Guardians. You think I’m right.”

  “I think your question hits a little too close to home, yes,” I managed around a dry mouth. “Considering that it was a Gardener that came and gave me the task, do you really think it’s such a stretch that they would preserve me for that task?”

  Her mouth formed a soundless ‘oh.’ “I hadn’t thought of it like that….” she trailed off, eyes going blind.

  My sense of humor kicked in. “Well, thank you, darling wife, for that disturbing insight. If you don’t mind, I’ll lie awake the next few nights thinking about it.”

  It took her a second, but then she grinned back at me, crookedly. “You’re welcome?”

  “Just when I think life can’t get any stranger….” I shook my head minutely.

  “You think being stuck in a magical crystal is strange?” she asked in feigned shock.

  I snorted. “Not to mention being turned Jaunten by a horse.”

  “Or you turning a cat and another horse Jaunten?” she retaliated archly.

  “Or being married to a woman that’s two hundred years younger than I am?”

  Aletha choked. “Great guardians, you’re right!”

  I cackled because I’d made her flinch first.

  She poked me in the ribs for that one, hard. “You’re awful. Remind me, why did I marry you, again?”

  “For the free entertainment.”

  A piercing scream rent the air in two.

  I was up, out of the bed, and with sword in hand before I could even get my eyes fully open. In sheer instinct, I slammed open the connecting door, eyes darting around the room, looking for the en
emy.

  Only I didn’t see one.

  Becca was up on the chest at the end of the bed, still screaming, pointing to the far corner of the room. “Kill it!” she demanded, voice rising in octave. “Someone kill it!”

  Aletha came in right behind me, her sword also in hand. “What?” she demanded.

  “There’s a mouse!”

  Huh? A mouse? I sank onto my haunches and tilted my head, getting a better look. Oh, sure enough, there was one hunkered into the corner over there. Little bit of a thing, I doubted it was full-grown yet. I wasn’t sure who was more scared, girl or mouse. “Becca, calm down, it’s nowhere near you—”

  Not getting the reaction she wanted (although, really, what did she expect me to do, axe the thing with my sword?) she wisely turned to Tail next. “I want it dead,” she snarled.

  Tail gave the most pleased, feline grin I’d ever seen on him. Then he dove off the bed and straight for the mouse.

  Poor little thing squeaked in terror, running around in circles, trying to find an exit. There wasn’t one.

  Needless to say, it didn’t last long.

  Tail hopped onto the windowsill, pushing the latch open, and neatly dumped the carcass into the sea before turning back around, completely dignified.

  Only then did Becca relax. A smidgen, that was. She gave me a look that borderlined terror. “Shad, are there more?”

  “Probably?” I offered, rubbing at the back of my head. “Rats and mice are common on ships like this, Becca. They follow the food stores that are loaded on board, you see. And then they travel up the ropes to get on the ship.”

  Not the answer she wanted to hear, judging by that mulish set to her jaw. “Tail. Kill them all.”

  Bloodthirsty little thing, wasn’t she?

  I did believe that order made Tail’s day. Human intelligence or not, he still had a cat’s instincts, I guess. With a purr, he bounced to the floor and took off through our feet, heading for the main part of the ship.