Honor Raconteur - Lost Mage (Advent Mage Cycle 06)

by Unknown

  One could almost feel sorry for the mice.

  Tail spent the next few days happily chasing mice around the ship and disposing of them overboard. Most of the passengers, having found mice in places they’d rather not have rodents, cheered him on. Becca rewarded him handsomely every night for his labors of the day, usually in some form of fishy delicacy.

  In retrospect, I really should have predicted what happened next.

  Squid came and found me just before dinner one night, about four days into Tail’s mouse-hunting, with a flushed face and a worried look in his eye. “Sir, that white cat’s yours, ain’t it?”

  “My sister’s, yes. Why?” I was struck by a sudden sense of foreboding.

  “Come quick, sir! He’s been found in the kitchen, and the head chef’s threatenin’ to chop his ears off to match his missing tail.”

  Now there was a mental picture for you. I knew where the kitchen was at this point and didn’t need a guide, so I pushed past him and ran as fast as I could through the narrow, cramped confines of the hallways until I skidded to a stop in front of the kitchen door.

  The place was a madhouse—it normally was, trying to feed a boat full of hungry people—with a dozen men weaving their way in and around each other, metal pots clanging, knives flashing, and a wave of heat and spices hitting me directly in the face as I strode through the door.

  A commotion in the very back corner of the room caught my attention, and I made a beeline for it, dodging men with hot pots and knives as I went.

  Tail was underneath a counter, lying nearly flat to the floor, growling in the back of his throat. A portly man with ruddy cheeks and a bloodstained apron stood in front of him, brandishing cleavers in both hands. “You get out of my kitchen, you filthy beast!” the man was yelling, his Hainish accent so thick that he was barely understandable. “OUT!”

  I caught one of his wrists, and his head snapped around to stare at me.

  Assured he wouldn’t be waving that cleaver around in an area I didn’t want, I bent enough to meet Tail’s eyes. “Paw caught in the cookie jar, Tail?”

  Tail gave me a disgusted look, another growl coming from him.

  Wagging my finger at him, I tsked him. “If you participate in my jokes, I will participate in your rescue.”

  At that, he rolled his eyes.

  “Is that infernal beast yours?!” the man bellowed.

  “Not precisely. My sister’s, and the reason he’s here is he was chasing after a mouse.” I looked at him pointedly.

  The man, if possible, became redder in the face. “A mouse! A RODENT IN MY KITCHEN? Intolerable!”

  “I agree, completely,” I managed with an outraged tone of my own. “Now, if you want to chase after the mouse with those cleavers, be my guest, but if I were you, I’d leave it up to him. He’s better equipped for mouse-hunting than either of us.”

  The chef hesitated. “But…a cat in my kitchen….”

  “He won’t go near the food or trip anyone up,” I soothed him. “A very smart cat, this one. Why, he’s been helping the passengers get mice out of their cabins for days now.”

  “Days, you say? Then the captain knows about this?”

  Surely she did by now. I mean, it’d been the talk at dinner for the past two nights, at least. “Of course she does!” I assured him, releasing the cleaver to give him a hearty clap on the back.

  “Well,” he lowered the cleaver, still looking at Tail suspiciously, “if he has the captain’s approval, then…”

  “Splendid!” It wasn’t a lie. Just a campaign in misinformation. “Tail, do continue with your hard work.”

  If Tail could speak in the human language, I’m fairly certain he would have cussed us both out at that point. As it was, I hardly got any thanks or gratitude for my assistance. Instead, he crawled out from underneath the counter and bounded away, heading for the direction the mouse must have disappeared to. Either that, or he just chose to get out of range of those cleavers while he could.

  Me? I chose to get out of the kitchen as well, before the chef had the notion to ask more questions.

  The Northern Star made a record time of twelve days to reach Greathouse Harbor. Becca’s cheating with the wind had much to do with that. No one was complaining about a shortened trip. We were all rather tired of being on board after the ninth day.

  The ship creaked and tilted ever so slightly as the captain turned her, heading toward the docks. The harbor, of course, was the one that faced the Isle of Strae. As we came into dock, I stood with Becca at the railing, wanting to point out our new home. “Do you see it?”

  She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and squinted. “Is it a castle?”

  “Rather looks like one, eh? But it’s far larger than any castle I’ve seen. Almost the size of a palace, that thing is.”

  “Shad…” She leaned forward more, trying to see better. “The water looks funny around it.”

  “Your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you, kiddo,” I assured her with a laugh. “The water really isn’t touching the island.”

  Her eyes crossed. “Magic can do that?!”

  “You’ll be amazed what magic can do.” I leaned against the railing so we were more on the same level. “Garth had it designed that way to protect the students there. He said it would require being accompanied by another magician to arrive on the Isle, which would prevent people from just showing up when they wanted to.”

  “Oh.” Becca chewed on that for a moment. “But I don’t know how to get us there.”

  I patted her head. “Don’t worry, I never expected you to do anything. We’ll call Garth when we get to the harbor and ask him to come get us.” Assuming he didn’t have someone standing by waiting on us. He might. Depended on how short on manpower he was.

  She’d been aiming to reach this place for weeks now, but with it sitting there right in front of her eyes, I didn’t think she knew how to feel about finally reaching the destination.

  I pulled her into my side with an arm around her shoulders. “It’ll be fine, lovey. You’re going to a place of magic and wonder. There’s talking horses, flying cats that can pick any lock, witches and wizards and other mages like you.”

  Becca gave me a funny look. “Tail won’t be the only cat there?”

  Had I not mentioned the Meurittas before? I snorted. “Not by a long shot.”

  From the main deck, I heard a familiar captain’s voice boom out, “THANK YOU, PASSENGERS, FOR RIDING THE NORTHERN STAR. PLEASE PREPARE TO DISEMBARK!”

  “That sounds like our cue, kiddo.” I stepped away and gave her a gamine grin. “Ready for the next adventure?”

  She grabbed one of my hands with both of hers, still looking a little unsure about all of this. “You’ll stay with me?”

  “Every step of the way.”

  Aletha and I divided up duties. I took the girl and her cat with me to the nearest relay station to call Garth. She grabbed our horses and gear and went to the designated dock for Strae-bound pedestrians.

  And it would be pedestrians. One could hardly climb in a boat to reach that isle, after all.

  Becca and I had to wander around the docks a bit and ask several people, but eventually we got good directions. In fact, the place we wanted was only two blocks away. I noted their close proximity and wondered, was Garth’s hand in that? It would certainly make it easier for people trying to get to Strae to call for help that way.

  I definitely appreciated its closeness.

  Having learned my lesson, I kept a tight grip on Becca’s hand as we walked the streets, Tail following us like a white shadow. The directions we’d gotten from the dockhand were spot-on and I navigated my way there like I knew where I was going.

  I walked into the office with an inner sense of relief. All I had to do was call Garth—or Chatta, I didn’t really care—and have them come get us, and this nightmare of a trip would be over. Well, mostly over. Aletha and I still had to sort out the Ascalon situation, and move everything to Strae, but we
’d have plenty of help doing all of that.

  This relay office looked like every other one of its kind. A simple building, with one room, divided in half by a counter for the patrons with a bored young magician sitting behind it. He looked to be fifteen or so, in black robes, and I just knew he was here serving out an internship. He perked up slightly as I stepped through, then his eyes took in the young girl walking primly beside me and his jaw nearly dented the floor.

  Oh brother. I snapped my fingers in front of his nose. “Yes, she’s a Weather Mage. Focus for a moment, I need your help.”

  “That’s what she is?” he squeaked in amazement. Hadn’t quite passed out of puberty entirely, eh?

  “Yes,” Becca informed him seriously. She was studying him just as curiously. “You glow white. What does that mean?”

  “H-huh?” He had to shake his head a little to pull himself together. “Oh, I’m a wizard. Masseryanen is my name.”

  Becca bobbed her head at him. “Riicbeccaan, pleasure to exchange names. This is Tail.”

  “Ahhhh…” He hopped lightly off his barstool and leaned over the counter to see what she was pointing at. When he did get a proper look, his eyes crossed. “Is…that possibly…”

  “A Jaunten cat,” I assured him, enjoying his reactions. These surprised questions never got old. “Now, Ryan, focus. I need to send a message to Strae. By mirror, if possible.”

  “Oh! Certainly, sir.” He still lingered at the counter, although he couldn’t seem to decide which he wanted to stare at more, Becca or Tail. Finally, he managed to get a mirror out of the drawer beside him and set it on the counter, where he then tilted it so that he could activate it, but I could speak into it. “Who should I call for you?”

  “Garth,” I answered.

  That made Ryan pause, and he looked at me, truly looked, as if seeing me for the first time. It was obvious when everything clicked and he had an idea of who I was. He swallowed, hard, and his voice went back to squeaking. “Ah, yes, sir.” Clutching the mirror tightly, he cleared his throat once, then again, before saying unsteadily, “Garth. Ah, that is, Magus Rhebengarthen?”

  There were a few clicks, as if a woman in high heels approached, then the mirror spoke in a very familiar tone. “He isn’t in at the moment. This is Rhebenchattaan.”

  “Beautiful,” I greeted.

  “Shad!” Chatta exclaimed, a mix of delight and relief in her tone. “You rascal, that note you sent us left much to be desired. I’ll skin you for that.”

  I tsked her, chuckling. “Now, now, cryptic notes are always more fun. It leaves you guessing what I meant.”

  “That’s exactly what’s unfun about them. Where are you? Are you alright?”

  “Everyone’s fine, and we’re at Greathouse Harbor. Any chance you can run your husband down and ask him to come fetch us?”

  “You’re already here?!” she exclaimed. “Heavens, you made good time!”

  I decided to explain later how Becca had cheated and thereby set a new speed record for the Northern Star. “Yes, we did.”

  “Wait, I’ll find him. He’s actually in the gardens, so it shouldn’t take more than a minute. Can you wait for him by the landing dock?”

  “On our way,” I assured her. “Oh, and Chatta?”

  “Yes?”

  “One thing, the position for Weapons Professor, can that be a dual position?”

  “I certainly think it’s a two-man job, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No, more like I was wondering if you’d hire one more person to work alongside me.”

  “If you know someone that will take the job, I certainly will!”

  “Actually, my wife said she would.”

  There was a very pregnant pause. “Shad.”

  I grinned in anticipation. “Yes, Beautiful.”

  “Are you telling me that you’re married?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Another long, pregnant moment of silence. “To whom?”

  “Gorgeous.”

  Chatta spluttered over that one for a few moments. “Since when were the two of you married?!”

  “As of about…two weeks ago.”

  “You two GOT MARRIED WITHOUT YOUR FRIENDS IN ATTENDANCE?!”

  “Didn’t want an elaborate ceremony,” I explained, trying not to laugh. Chatta had the best reactions. “You’re welcome to throw a party or a reception or something for us though.”

  “Shad,” she gritted out through clenched teeth, “you’re telling me this NOW? You have the worst sense of timing!”

  “I have perfect timing,” I corrected her jovially. “You can’t hex me from there.”

  “Oooh, you just wait until I get my hands on you!”

  “Now, Beautiful, calm down. You wouldn’t want to make your dear friend a widow already, would you?”

  “I’m pretty sure at this point I’d be doing her a favor!”

  As I was half-convinced Aletha was crazy to marry me to begin with, I couldn’t disagree with Chatta. “Well, you’ll get your chance at it soon enough. See you soon!”

  Chatta must have found her husband and filled him in with record speed, as Becca and I barely had time to rejoin Aletha before we saw him on the isle building his bridge.

  Aletha greeted us by saying, “You must have reached him quickly. He just started on the bridge a moment ago.”

  “Reached Beautiful, actually,” I corrected, coming to stand alongside her. The first time I’d been here, this dock was nothing more than a plain wooden structure jutting out over the water. But since then, someone (I bet I knew who) had rebuilt it into a sturdy dock of granite, all of it locked together so neatly that it didn’t even need mortar to hold it place. It had quite a width to it, too, as if capable of holding several wagons at once.

  “Chatta? What did she say?”

  “That she’d skin me as soon as she saw me,” I responded, not worried.

  Aletha laughed. “You must have told her we’re married.”

  “For some strange reason, she’s not mad at you. Just me. Care to explain that?”

  “Women’s logic.”

  I pondered that for a moment. “Not helpful, dearest.”

  She shrugged, not bothered by this, eyes still sparkling with laughter.

  Becca was still hanging onto my hand, and she leaned her body weight forward, trusting me to keep her from face-planting. “He’s building that really fast,” she observed in admiration.

  Yes he was. I expected Garth to be here within the next two minutes, as he was walking along the bridge even as he built it. The distance between here and there wasn’t much, and the stone seemed to melt and flow under his magical direction, forming into a flat bridge a good two hundred feet across. Despite the fact that it was suspended over thin air, it looked perfectly solid and safe to travel on.

  We patiently watched his calm, unhurried approach. Garth stepped off his bridge with easy flair, as if he was accustomed to walking on things that had no support struts or pillars to sustain it. But then, I wanted to see the stone that would dare disobey an Earth Mage. Showing that his Hainian wife had corrupted him, he didn’t greet us as a Chahiran would, but with ready hugs.

  “Aletha.”

  Aletha grinned and freely returned the embrace. “Garth. You look well!”

  “And all of you are in one piece, which I’m relieved to see.” He stepped back, smile going lopsided. “You realize that as soon as you’re at Strae, Chatta’s going to give you an earful.”

  “Oh, I have my sacrificial goat handy,” she assured him.

  Ummm. She didn’t mean me, did she? No, of course she did.

  Chuckling, Garth turned to me and extended a hand, which I firmly clasped. “Shad. Only you can go on a dangerous mission and still manage to make mischief in the process.”

  “Isn’t Residential Mischief Maker my job?” I asked, trying to look confused.

  “You can take a break from that occupation now and again,” he responded dryly. “We won’t mind, promis
e. Now.” Garth sank down to one knee, a gentle smile on his face and obvious relief in his eyes. He didn’t need me or anyone else to tell him he was facing a Weather Mage. His magical senses must’ve been screaming at him. “I’m Rhebengarthen, an Earth Mage,” he introduced himself.

  “This is Riicbeccaan,” I introduced her.

  Garth gave me a confused look at the surname, but he inclined his head toward her. “Welcome, young Weather Mage.”

  Becca’s eyes were as round as saucers, and I think she forgot to breathe for a few moments as she stared fixedly at Garth. “You…you glow.”

  “Brown and green?” he returned, eyes softening. “Yes, I know.”

  “No, you glow,” she repeated, emphasizing the word and attaching a significance to it. “You’re the Balancer.”

  …What did she just say?

  Garth’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I was that, yes. How do you know?”

  “The Gardener said the Guardian would take me to the Balancer,” she answered simply, still staring at him in awe.

  Garth about swallowed his tongue. “You…met a Gardener?”

  She nodded absently. “The Gardener said you’re supposed to teach me. He said it would be my task next, and you’d know what I’d need to do. That part I didn’t understand,” she confessed.

  He had to swallow hard before he could croak, “It means, my dear, that you will be the next Balancer of this world.”

  “But I’m little!” Becca protested instinctively. She half-flinched from him, as if tempted to hide behind me.

  “I understand your panic, trust me,” Garth responded wryly. “I felt the same. But Becca, the Gardeners never give us a task that we cannot accomplish. They know very well what we are capable of, you see. My job was to fix Chahir, influence it so that it would accept magic again. Your job is going to be to fix the land itself, give it enough rainfall to where it becomes green and lush like it used to be.”

  Becca’s head shook almost continuously. “I don’t know what that looks like!”

  “Your Guardian does.” Garth shot me a quick smile. “After all, he was alive during that time. He remembers what Chahir was like.”