Grand Mage Ricci surrendered his argument with Wesley Green, and Allyn got the impression he didn’t truly feel as strongly about his opinions as he had let on. Allyn found himself watching the two grand mages intently. There was something between them, something he couldn’t place. Were they in this together? Was Grand Mage Ricci building a straw man argument that Grand Mage Green could easily poke holes into, or was he simply challenging the man to make sure they had their asses covered?
Not for the first time, Allyn realized there was more going on than he’d originally seen. Each of the grand mages had his own agendas and wanted his personal stations to rise.
They’re no better than bickering politicians.
“What would it take to organize an offensive?” Arch Mage Westarra asked.
Grand Mage Green gestured to Allyn to speak.
“Well,” Allyn said. “As I mentioned before, Liam has already hacked the logbook we recovered from the catacombs, and we can use my sister to corroborate its authenticity with the prisoners being held at the magi capital.”
“How long are we talking?” Arch Mage Westarra said.
“That depends, Your Grace,” Allyn said. “How quickly can we have someone sent to Ukiah?”
Allyn left the council meeting elated, floating through the manor halls as if gravity itself couldn’t bring him down. He had done it. Finally done it. The council had agreed to go on the offensive. They’d granted his wish. His only concern was timing.
The chances that Kendyl could be dispatched to Ukiah, interrogate the Rakkaran prisoners on the new information Liam had uncovered, and relay that information back to the council before the next battle was slim. No, it was nearly impossible. Still, as long as the next battle wasn’t a rout with the magi on the losing side, he didn’t see anything that would change the council’s decision to move forward. He just had to convince Kendyl to go.
He found her outside the manor on a rocky outcropping with a handful of young magi. The outcropping overlooked a field of emerald-green grass that currently basked under the gold, crimson, and violet hues of the sunset. Had his mind not been entirely elsewhere, he might have taken a moment to admire its beauty, but he stumbled into Kendyl’s painting class like a drunken uncle at Thanksgiving.
Kendyl had started the class a couple weeks before as something to do with her spare time, though started might have been the wrong word for it. The others had seen her painting in various locations around the manor, always complimenting her work. Then one day, as she began to set up her easel and ready her paints, two others joined her, setting up their own stations. When the newcomers hadn’t been asked to leave, two more had joined her the following day, and that was when the questions had started.
“Something’s off about mine. Can you take a look?”
“I want to get better—what would you recommend I work on?”
“How did you get so good?”
Kendyl just smiled, gracefully accepting praise and always offering words of encouragement to the struggling young artists. “Art is as much about craft as it is about talent,” she would say. “If you want to improve, you need to work at it. Every day.”
Since then, the class had only grown, so when Allyn stumbled into the lesson, he was greeted by a stern-faced Kendyl and eight surprised budding artists. She held up a finger, gesturing for him to wait. He nodded and took a seat on a fallen tree as Kendyl wrapped up her class. She spoke kindly, offering words of encouragement as the students gathered their supplies.
Once the last of them had disappeared, Allyn stood and approached his sister. “You’re a natural,” he said.
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “It is fun, though.”
“Maybe you’ve found your calling.”
“Oh God.” Kendyl shuddered. “My life’s turned into a cliché.”
“How so?”
“How many of your art teachers were successful artists?”
“Not many,” Allyn admitted.
“Exactly,” Kendyl said. “Those who can’t, teach.”
“Fair point,” Allyn said. “Though that’s not entirely fair, and I wouldn’t say any of this is a cliché.” He gestured at their surroundings.
“That’s true. We’re doing things a little different, aren’t we?”
“A little bit,” Allyn said, laughing at the sheer understatement of the comment.
“So what’s on your mind? It’s not every day the legendary Allyn McCollum, member of the great magi War Council, visits us lesser folk.”
“Someone’s got jokes,” Allyn said, giving her a sarcastic smile, though the words had come out more bitterly than he’d intended. Kendyl had struggled to find her place among the magi, and Allyn had hoped those feelings had subsided after she’d assisted in rescuing Liam and nearly recovering the Blood Wand. Since the war had begun, though, and Kendyl’s role within it was marginalized, she’d become more bitter than she had been before.
“Oh, don’t get all sensitive. I was just messing with you.”
“Yeah,” Allyn said. “I’m here because I need help.”
Kendyl’s playful expression faltered, her smile melting away. “With what?”
“The council has agreed to go on the offensive, but in order to do so, we need information. They want you to go to the magi capital and learn what you can from the prisoners we took from the church.”
“I’ve already questioned them,” Kendyl said. “Before Jaxon and the arch mage ever arrived. What else do you expect to get out of them?”
“That was before Liam cracked the logbook,” Allyn said. “We think there’s more information out there.”
“Who thinks that?”
“Does it matter?”
“It might.”
“I came up with the plan,” Allyn said. “The council supports me.”
“So you’re asking me to go, not the council.”
“I guess. Sure. What’s the difference?”
“The difference is you can’t even stomach asking me for help.”
“That’s not true.”
“Of course it is,” Kendyl said. “Name one time you’ve come to me and said, ‘Kendyl, I need your help.’”
“Kendyl, I need your help.”
“Don’t be a smart ass.”
“I’m not trying to be,” Allyn said. “Kendyl, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you or been a better brother. But between Liam and the war… I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m making it up as I go along. I can’t do this. I need your help. Please.”
Kendyl studied him, her face hard, and for a moment Allyn thought she was going to say no.
“Please, Kendyl.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll do it,” Kendyl said. “When do I leave?”
Allyn grinned. “Right now.”
Chapter 15
Unable to concentrate, Liam snapped his book shut. If the artifact hadn’t been one of a kind, he might have thrown it across the room. He couldn’t do that, though. He couldn’t bring himself to treat the relic so recklessly. And even then, he reprimanded himself for being so careless with such a fragile tome. Running a gentle finger across its spine, he searched for any damage he might have caused. Satisfied he’d dodged a bullet, Liam rose from the oversized armchair and returned the book to its rightful place on the bookshelf.
He was in one of the various Klausner sitting rooms, this one on the second level of the manor and decorated with bold green wallpaper. Unlike in his old library at the McCollum Manor, or even his temporary one at the Hyland Estate, the Klausner Family preferred to use their ancient magi texts as decoration, as some form of prestige. It was as appalling as it was careless.
The various books, tomes, and framed pieces of par
chment were already showing signs of damage from the sun, humidity, or simple mishandling. With so little of their history remaining, he would never understand how someone could have such complete disregard of the artifacts’ true value and not go to greater lengths to preserve them. To do so wouldn’t be that expensive or even take that much work.
He sighed and returned to his seat. Crossing his legs, he ran a finger over his lips. He’d come to the sitting room, hoping to do more research about the magi origin story or find something about the first era of the magi existence.
When was the first living magi recorded? What year? Where did they live? What were their abilities? Why weren’t they more celebrated among the magi Families? After all, every culture and religion had their version of Adam and Eve. The fact that Liam couldn’t find anything about the magi equivalent was more than unusual.
It was frustrating to have so many questions and so few answers, and to make matters worse, he was running out of places to search. As the hours and days crept by, he was becoming more and more certain that the only place he would find answers would be within the arch mage’s private library inside the magi capital.
Of course, if he were truly being honest with himself, he would also know that his current questions, while important, were little more than a distraction from what was really on his mind.
His fingers moved from his lips, massaging his forehead as he closed his eyes. It had been two days since Jaxon had nominated him as grand mage. Two long, miserable, agonizing days. His stomach was a knot of anxiety, stress, excitement, and a million other conflicting emotions. He was exhausted but couldn’t sleep, lonely but seeking isolation, a living, breathing, brooding contradiction.
You need a hobby, he told himself for the thousandth time. The problem was, he didn’t know what to do. He’d thought about joining one of Kendyl’s painting classes, but art was too personal, too exposing. He couldn’t stomach the thought of laying himself bare like that. Even thinking about it made his skin clammy.
He took a deep breath, sucking in air slowly, and let it out in an equal measure. He repeated the process until the small panic attack subsided.
And you want to lead a Family.
“No,” he whispered. Then louder, more firmly. “No.” He wouldn’t allow himself to spoil one of the greatest opportunities of his life. For years, he had succumbed to the expectation that because he couldn’t wield he would never get the chance to lead the Family. Never live up to his father’s legacy. But that reality had changed, even if his mind hadn’t caught up yet.
I’m not the same boy. I’ve changed too. I’m still changing. I can do this.
And as simple as that, his nerves calmed, the knot in his stomach loosening. The only nerves that remained were the nerves of helplessness, of not knowing, and there was nothing he could do about that. Not until the Family made its decision.
Liam pushed himself out of the armchair, stretching his tired legs. He needed to get away, to get clear of the books, questions, and anxiety. Get some fresh mountain air. But as he stepped across the room, he heard the heavy footsteps of someone approaching. When he opened the sitting room door, he found Jaxon in the hall. The older magi froze midstep, clearly surprised by Liam opening the door.
“Everything all right?” Liam asked, seeing the tightness in Jaxon’s face.
“They’ve made a decision.”
They. Decision. There was only one thing that Jaxon could be talking about. The Family had decided whether they would ratify Jaxon’s nomination, force Liam to go through a more stringent nomination process, or reject the proposition altogether. Liam swallowed, something made more difficult since all of the moisture in his mouth seemed to have evaporated.
“And?” Liam asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“And we need to gather the Family here to hear their response.”
“Of course,” Liam said. “Where?”
“Downstairs,” Jaxon said. “I’ll gather the rest and meet you in the sitting room.”
“Okay,” Liam said and moved down an adjoining hallway away from Jaxon.
“And, Liam?”
Liam stopped and turned to face his former mentor.
“Whatever happens, I want you to know I’m proud of you.”
The simple words were too much. Liam’s appreciation, coupled with the overwhelming wave of other emotions, settled in his chest, filling his eyes with tears. Unable to speak, Liam nodded and gave Jaxon a half smile that he hoped conveyed a fraction of the gratitude and respect he felt for the other man. Then he turned back down the hall and strode toward his destiny.
Once the rest of the Family was gathered in the Klausner sitting room, Jaxon pulled up the video conferencing screen and projected the image onto the back wall. It was meant to give them a better picture of the scene at the Hyland Estate, but what they gained in size, they lost in clarity. The pixelated image was difficult to make out, and the metallic voices coming through the line obscured anything Liam might have gleaned through tone of voice.
Attempting to remain calm, Liam stood at Jaxon’s shoulder, his hands clasped before him. Every member of the McCollum Family at the Klausner Manor was in the sitting room with him. Only Kendyl, who had left two days earlier for the magi capital, was missing, but like everyone in the room, she had already cast her vote. Part of him wished he could make the trip with her—it would bring him closer to the arch mage’s personal library, after all—but like many things, that would have to wait.
Once Jaxon confirmed with the Family back in the Pacific Northwest that they could see and hear each other, the process began.
“Before we begin,” Mason said, “let me just say that this is a highly unusual course of events.”
The familiarity of Mason’s stern demeanor brought a smirk to Liam’s lips. The man was short, with an attitude and temper that made up for anything he lacked in height. The cropped image cut off the lower half of his body, hiding the metal prosthetic leg he liked to show off.
He’d lost the leg when members of Darian Hyland’s rebellion had infiltrated the Family by posing as refugees seeking asylum. Mason was wounded in the fight and would have died if it hadn’t been for Allyn and Nyla. Though they had saved his life, they had been unable to save his leg.
“By tradition,” Mason continued, “the Family should be whole during deliberations. It is… less than ideal to be unable to consult with certain members without complication. Additionally, the grand mage in waiting should be present to hear the Family’s pronouncement. But the Family understands the uniqueness of the situation and has amended its processes accordingly.”
“Thank you,” Jaxon said.
Liam thought he heard a little humor in Jaxon’s voice, as well. He knew as well as Liam that Mason wouldn’t let an opportunity to complain go unused. Though, in Mason’s defense, he was correct. By magi traditions, the Family should have been gathered in the central hall of the manor, encircling Liam, a lone figure in the center of the circle like an isolated rock in the middle of the ocean. Instead, he stood beside Jaxon, with the rest of the Family behind him. He wasn’t complaining, of course—it was far less lonely this way.
“I understand the Family has reached its conclusion?” Jaxon continued.
“We have,” Mason said. “The Family has considered the merits of your nomination, weighing Liam McCollum’s unique abilities with the changing landscape of the magi Order. The Family has debated concerns about his age, lack of experience, and emotional temperament. The Family has also reflected on the growth displayed over the last year, taking into account recent events as told by those of you fighting on the front. And the Family has concluded that Liam McCollum, son of Graeme McCollum, former Grand Mage of the McCollum Family, is worthy of the position he seeks.”
Mason’s stern expression broke into a smile, the Famil
y behind him doing the same. A few of them even had to wipe tears from their cheeks. Chills went down Liam’s spine, his breathing growing short.
“Liam McCollum.”
“Yes.” Liam straightened his back and lifted his chin confidently.
“Do you affirm that you are of stable mind and capable of navigating the duties of grand mage of this Family?”
“I do.”
“Do you affirm that you will, to the best of your ability, preserve the culture and way of life of this Family and the magi Order?”
“I do.”
“Do you affirm that you will protect and defend this Family and the magi Order from all of those who wish to seek its end?”
“I do.”
“Do you, Liam McCollum, accept the mantle of Grand Mage of the McCollum Family?”
“I do.”
“Then I, Mason McCollum, speaking with the authority of the McCollum Family, name you, Liam McCollum, Grand Mage of the McCollum Family.”
The celebration was deafening, though Liam heard little of it. I did it, he thought, and in his mind’s eye, he pictured his father smiling at him, sharing in the moment with him. Liam smiled back, giving himself permission to appreciate the moment, because he knew deep down that the real work was only beginning.
“Thank you for coming,” Liam said, looking over the gathered group. “I know it’s late and that you all have pressing matters. I won’t keep you long, I promise.”
Allyn, Nolan, and Leira joined him in his room. After the celebration, Liam had returned to his room, where he’d laughed, cried, and reflected on how far he’d come.
Just a year ago he had been a teenage magi scorned or ignored because of his inability to wield. Searching for a way to be useful, he had confined himself to the McCollum library, overseeing and preserving the deteriorating texts before their history was ripped away by the cruel hands of time.
Capture (The Machinists Book 4) Page 13
