Faerie Mage: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Vampire's Bane Book 1)

by Marian Maxwell

  For all his effort, Kelendril didn’t fool Mona. He repeatedly clenched and released his right hand as they crossed behind the backlines of the Academy forces. He didn’t so much as look in the direction of the fighting. If he did, Mona was sure he would not have been able to hold back from joining the fray.

  It was easy to imagine that, in her short life, Mona had come to know Kelendril. In truth, she was only familiar with the role he played as her mentor. There was a reputation spanning hundreds of years that she had never glimpsed. The Kelendril she knew was leaving, to be replaced by an older version of himself that came out in times of hardship.

  Kelendril knocked on the hardwood door at the front of the administration building and they were quickly ushered inside. The door shut behind them with a solid thump, dulling the sounds of war. They didn’t break pace, sweeping past the guards, up a flight of stairs, down a hall with huge oil paintings and busts of former Masters, and finally, up another flight of stairs to where Kelendril threw open a small wooden door.

  “This is the girl?” growled a grizzled old man. He fixed Mona with a rheumy eye from where he sat at a large, round table. His other eye was covered in the shadow of his hood.

  “It’s her,” said Kelendril, a sigh at the end of his voice.

  The heads of the gathered magi turned and settled on Mona. They held an air about them that spoke of riches and power. She recognized two as Masters of the Academy. The other four were unknowns. They all sat on high-back chairs, and had the tired, wrinkled-clothes look of being five hours into an intense discussion.

  Zyzz practically jumped out of his seat when he saw Mona. Their eyes met and they rushed into each other's embrace.

  “I was so worried,” said Zyzz. He wrapped Mona in a bear hug, smothering her face against his wide chest.

  I could get used to this scent.

  “I know. Me too,” Mona said, somewhat muffled. She grabbed the back of his loose shirt and held him tight. With everything that was going on, she didn’t know when, or if, she would be able to do this again.

  “Ahem!” One of the Masters cleared her throat. She looked young, only a couple of years older than Mona, but her icy blue gaze and porcelain face made Mona suspect she was actually much older. Magi can be just as vain as anyone else, and when there is magic at your disposal…let’s just say that cosmetics is an entire field of study.

  “Welcome to our little Magi Council,” she said, flicking back a strand of long, silver hair. “Please take a seat.”

  12

  “As I was saying,” the woman continued, turning back to the table. “We can’t hold out for much longer. The enemy forces are too many in number. Even with Academies all over the world coming to our aid, it will not be enough.” She clenched one hand into a fist and steeled her voice. “We must break the seals and summon Lucius.”

  “The seals are a thousand years old,” said an old man from across the table. He sat with his hands folded inside the wide sleeves of his silken robe. Shaman tattoos covered the top of his bald head. “We should proceed with caution. More factions will soon be involved, and it will not be long before they begin fighting one another. All we have to do is fortify our defenses and wait them out.”

  “Wait them out?!” the woman crowed. “Are you insane? She put both hands on the table and glared at the old man. “The Academy will not last without an army to defend it. Our magi tire, and almost half of the shifters are already wounded.”

  “You talk as if we fight alone,” came a new voice. “Word reached Estalia last night that the realm of humans has come under siege. Their best knights are on their way with other allies close behind.”

  “The alliance is old,” the silver-haired woman said dismissively. “We haven’t fought—hardly even spoken—with Estalia in two hundred years.”

  Some of the others nodded their heads at this. Kelendril wore a frown. He pocketed the notebook he had been writing in and crossed his arms.

  “You forget that we are the ones in the wrong,” the woman continued. “The fae courts claim someone from the Academy helped steal their behelit seed. And here it is, in this idiot’s office, bound to a child.” She shook her head. “No, if Estalia is coming to help anyone, it’s one of the fae courts.”

  Welcome back, warmonger. Kelendril’s dry voice came as a telepathic message.

  Warmonger? Mona touched her magic supply to send the message and found that it was entirely replenished.

  “Do we know which family owns the behelit?” someone asked the woman.

  “The Morioka,” the man in the hood man replied. “The royal family itself.”

  Everyone grumbled unhappily at the news.

  A young woman dressed in furs took her pipe from her lips. “Hetti is right,” she said. “Estalia is not to be trusted. But neither is Lucius. He would turn on us at the first chance. We need to find a different path forward.”

  “What do you suggest?” the old man asked. Hetti flicked her silver hair and sat down as the woman with the pipe took her turn to speak.

  “We can’t fight them, plain and simple. Not for long, anyways. I say we offer them the girl in return for peace.”

  “Just give her up?”

  “No, make a trade. Look, it’s us who’s in the wrong here. It’s not like we have many options. I would say give them the idiot,” she said, jabbing in Kelendril’s direction with her ivory pipe, “but they need the one who’s bonded. No getting around that.”

  “They would kill her.”

  “Not definitely. They could—”

  “Yes, definitely,” Kelendril snarled. “You would give up one of your own? What next, abandoning the Academy? At least you’re not stupid enough to think Lucius is a good idea.”

  Mona facepalmed at his inflammatory reply. That was just like him to get everyone bickering. She waited for a bombshell response from Hetti, but the woman glared at Kelendril in silence. Maybe she was also used to Kelendril’s rough personality.

  The pipe smoker was not so calm. “The girl betrayed us when she bonded with the behelit,” she said, smacking the table with her pipe. “And don’t tell me she didn’t know what she was doing. She took the power for herself and nearly died running away. I’m glad those demons stopped her. But even more unthinkable is that you won’t tell us where you were when all this happened. You seriously expect us to believe you left her alone with a behelit seed?”

  Kelendril rolled his eyes. “I don’t care what you believe. Mona and Zyzz stopped the demons from taking the behelit. That’s a fact. Now we need to work with the fae to resolve this. A witch hunt within our ranks is not going to help anyone.”

  “Exactly what I was saying,” said the woman, to everyone else as much as to Kelendril. “We give them the girl.”

  Kelendril ignored her. “Before we make any decisions,” he continued, “we should schedule a parley with the Morioka. Open a channel for communication. If nothing else, it will delay their attack.”

  “I’m in favor of that,” the old man agreed. Several others joined in approval.

  “The Morioka are not the issue right now,” said Hetti, rejoining the conversation. She locked eyes on Kelendril. “Every arch demon between here and the Ninth Hell is coming to tear this place apart, kill the girl and take the behelit. It will be their armies knocking before any others.”

  “Lucius…” the hooded man mused. “It’s a dangerous gamble.”

  “And the Academy is in a perilous position,” Hetti said, eagerly drawing on the support.

  The old man smacked the table so hard with his palm that it jolted off the ground. “We must not.” He said it slowly, and there was tense energy coming from him.

  Hetti started shouting and then everyone was on their feet, pointing fingers and arguing.

  Any time now, Kelendril sent telepathically.

  “Stop it!” Mona shouted. All the other voices drowned her out. She stood up straight from where she had been leaning against the wall. “Stop!” she shouted as loud
as she could. Everyone quieted and turned to look at Mona. “Someone tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “We hoped you would help us with that,” said the women dressed in furs.

  The group sat down in their chairs again. “Tell us exactly what happened,” said the man in the hood. “Don’t leave out any details. Your life depends on it.”

  I thought these were the good guys.

  Some good, some not good, Kelendril warned. This is only a small fraction of the magi council. Tell them the truth, but be careful. I am limited in how I can help you here.

  Mona did exactly that: she told the council about the examination, the demons and the fae. Even with two demon fights behind her, she still counted being caught by the fae as her closest brush with death.

  She started to fully wake up, and her foggy head cleared as she got further into describing what happened. By the time she reached the part when she dropkicked the demon, Mona was stretching her left hand and testing how well it had healed. Her body felt a bit sore, but it was more like what you would expect after a hard sparring session, not back-to-back battles with demons.

  The hooded man scoffed. “I don’t believe her. All those in favor of arresting the girl and using her to negotiate with the fae, raise your hand.” Five out of seven hands shot into the air. “Excellent. I’ll call the guards when we finish the meeting.” They turned their chairs back towards the table, apparently done with Mona’s testimony.

  “What?!” she shouted in disbelief and stomped toward the table. “Why am I under arrest?” Zyzz was on his feet and growling, making himself seen and heard for the first time since they had hugged.

  Kelendril intercepted Mona before she reached the councillors and led her out onto the balcony. “You guys need to cool it,” he said to Mona and Zyzz. Mona walked to the edge of the balcony and looked out over the Academy grounds. They were at the top of the Headmaster's tower and the whole campus lay stretched out below.

  “Explain what the councillors meant by that,” said Zyzz. He leaned against the wall, massive arms crossed over a barrel chest. You could tell he pumped iron from the bulge of his biceps, but his torso was lean like a track runner. He stood head and shoulders above all of the councillors, and he looked pissed.

  “You stole from a fae lord, betrayed the Academy, and incited the Great War of our age,” Kelendril mildly said. “That’s what the council believes, anyways. Criminal or not, you’re going down in the history books.” Kelendril smiled. “And that’s the situation.”

  He sighed, seeing the befuddled expression on Mona’s face. “Yes, fine. I’ll answer your question. Behelits are ancient earth magic, extremely rare. Only fae nobility have access to them. Until now, that is.”

  “But what do they do? Why is it so important?”

  “The plant is one of a kind in that it feeds directly from the source of magic. Those bound to it, such as yourself, can tap into that magic and use it as their own.”

  “Like a magic generator?”

  “More like a fan, redirecting magic to you,” Kelendril corrected. “The bond is forever, or until the person dies. Only after can it be bound to another. The mystery is how the fae you met came to have the seed, and why he would give it to you. I have a hunch it was more than a chance encounter. There is something afoot.”

  “Wait…you said until the person dies. So the arch demons are coming to kill me?”

  “Sadly, yes.”

  “And the fae?”

  “Probably them too.”

  “Then I can just lead them away from the Academy.”

  Kelendril shook his head. “They don’t know who you are. Not unless someone tells them, or they gain control of the behelit itself. All they know is that someone here bonded with the seed. All the major powers are rousing their forces and marching on the Academy. For now, trust no one but me and Hetti. The other council members have divided loyalties.”

  “We could all die because of me,” Mona muttered.

  “Very possible, but I don’t think so. It will be at least two days before anything serious happens. Much can change between now and then.”

  Zyzz and Mona followed Kelendril back inside. The other magi were talking over a map they had opened across the table.

  “Listen up,” Kelendril called. The timbre of his voice turned deep and authoritative as he addressed the council. He paced in front of the table, hands clasped behind his back like a military leader. “Surviving the first assault is our top priority. We need to assemble a defensive strategy at once. One for large-scale conflict, not the little skirmishes we’ve been fighting so far. When the Morioka arrive we will talk them into a temporary alliance and combine our forces against the hells pawn. It is our duty to prevent another Fae War from breaking out. As for Mona, she may be integral to our survival should Estalia and the fae turn against us.”

  The old man was not convinced. “Integral? How?”

  “There are four people known to hold the power of a behelit. Two reside on thrones in Faerie, one disappeared fifty years ago, and the last stands before you,” said Kelendril. He gestured in Mona’s direction like a salesman showing off a new car.

  “She is untrained—she would die trying to control the stream of magic. Then we would be left without a bargaining chip,” the hooded man argued.

  “You spoke of Lucius turning against us, but what of the fae lords? There would be nothing stopping them from wiping us out once they have both Mona and the seed.”

  “We give them the seed,” Hetti chimed in. “But keep Mona as our own.”

  “We already voted on this,” said the woman in fur. A pair of curving horns emerged from the front of her forehead and grew until they were the length of an open hand.

  “I give you a different path,” Kelendril diplomatically replied. “Imagine, for a moment, having the power of a behelit in the hands of an Academy—an Academy controlled by this very council.”

  Trying to fox them in with their greed. Mona tried not to roll her eyes and slipped back out to the balcony, where she could still hear them but be out of sight. What do the powerful want? More power.

  “An interesting proposal,” the old man mused.

  The hooded man rubbed his chin. “But what about the Academy? The seed would be exposed.”

  “No one would destroy it. It is too valuable to lose altogether.”

  “Fine,” said the furred woman. “We talk to the fae courts first. But as you said, the most important thing is to survive the coming days. Everything depends on it.”

  They switched to talking about preparing a defense, and Mona tuned them out. She leaned on the railing of the balcony, looked down on the Academy grounds and thought about how her life had changed forever.

  Behelit…fae…stream of magic…

  A happy, evil smile twisted across her face.

  The fates had granted her wish. With the behelit’s power enhancing Mona’s magic, the necromancer who killed her family was as good as dead. She could track him to his lair and obliterate his soul. Literally, so he couldn’t come back to life.

  Suddenly, everything seemed so straightforward: all Mona had to do was survive and train to use the behelit. Experience, unfortunately, shows that nothing good is straightforward.

  The Academy grounds, stretching out in an open area between all the buildings on campus, had turned into a battlefield. The corpse of what looked like a ten ton caterpillar rested against the side of the dormitory. Smaller blobs in the shapes of dead demons littered the grass and walkways, and every building bore the scorch marks of fire magic. Groups of magi patrolled the rooftops of all the main buildings, ready to blast flying unfriendlies.

  A gale picked up, making Mona’s hair dance in the air. She gripped the railing, keeping herself balanced as wind pushed and pulled on her ugly hospital gown. Black clouds formed overhead, cutting off the sun. Thunder rocked the air and in the same instant a flash of lightning filled the sky and left her blinded. She stumbled away from the railing for the
protective cover of the Head Master’s meeting room.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Kelendril asked.

  Mona could barely see; black spots kept popping up in her vision. “There’s a storm. It’s not natural.” The lightning must have also blinded the magi standing guard outside. “I think we’re under attack.”

  13

  Suri got back to her apartment at 3AM. Amber was sleeping on the couch. Curled up under a thin, wool blanket.

  She took off her boots. Tip-toed to the bathroom. The apartment wasn’t on her side. It’s an old place. The floorboards creaked.

  Amber sat up with a bad case of bedhead. Her short, auburn hair stuck out all over the place. She rubbed her eyes. Squinted at Suri. Put on her glasses from where she’d left them on the coffee table. “Why didn’t you tell me when you got back??” She ran over to hug Suri. Stopped, eyes wide in alarm. Covered her mouth in horror. “Ohmygod! You’re bleeding!”

  Suri couldn’t help but smile. “It’s fine. See?” she lifted up her shirt enough to show the bandage.

  Amber wasn’t having any of it. She shooed Suri to a kitchen chair. “Come on,” Suri said. “Really, it’s fine. I wanna sleep.”

  Amber put on the kettle. Shook her head. “Unbelievable,” she muttered. She raced off to the bathroom with little, slippered steps. Suri heard cupboards opening and closing wildly. Contents being strewn about. She raced back into the kitchen, needle, thread and rubbing alcohol in hand. “Off,” she ordered.

  Suri took off her shirt and jacket. Amber peeled off the bandage. “Who did this?” She asked, throwing it in the garbage under the kitchen sink.

  Butterflies filled Suri’s stomach. Her heart beat a little faster. A sly smile spread across her face. She didn’t know how to answer. “Uhm, a guy.”

  “A guy.” Amber didn’t like the answer. She tore off the plastic wrap off a gauze package. Doused the gauze in alcohol and dabbed Suri’s gash with it. “Just a random guy.”

  Even as the alcohol burned on Suri’s wound, she had a huge grin on her face. She looked away to hide it. “A guy I met.”