The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy)

by Foster, Michael

  They really had little other choice, so all of them agreed with Master Glim’s plan.

  ‘Well, I had better be going,’ Master Glim said. ‘I had already arranged to meet Master Celios, so I must hurry before he comes grumbling and looking for me. Eric, please organise a guestroom for Samuel,’— to which Eric nodded.

  ‘Unfortunately, I must also leave for a prior engagement,’ Lomar stated. ‘Samuel, please stay hidden for the time being. From what you have said, you may not be the most popular magician in Cintar.’

  With that, Master Glim and Lomar left the room.

  ‘Samuel,’ Goodfellow said, ‘it’s honestly so good to see you.’

  ‘I feel the same,’ Samuel returned. ‘And I heard you have both graduated. It feels so strange to think of you as Masters of the Order.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Eric said. ‘It feels strange for us, too! I still keep expecting Master Sanctus to run up and pull my ear every time I laugh out loud.’

  ‘And what about your great discovery? Any luck recreating your travelling spell?’

  ‘Not really,’ Eric replied, ‘but we prefer to call it a Journey Spell, if you please,’ he added cheekily.

  ‘Actually,’ Goodfellow added, ‘we’ve conducted a lot of research on the matter and formulated mounds of theory, but it still remains little more than that.’

  ‘Yes,’ Eric added guiltily. We just haven’t been able to actually cast the spell. I don’t know what it was that I did before, but we just can’t seem to recreate it—probably because it scared the willies out of me.’

  ‘Was it really that bad?’ Samuel asked.

  Eric waved his two hands before him. ‘You don’t want to know! It was positively awful. I felt like I was twisting inside out. It only took a moment to arrive in Maidensvale, right in front of my parents’ house and, when I did, I couldn’t stop vomiting for hours. I thought I was delirious. On the bright side, my parents were glad to see me.’

  ‘I’d be curious to see all your notes,’ Samuel stated. ‘Perhaps later, once we have sorted out all this mess.’

  ‘Speaking of which,’ Goodfellow began, ‘do you really believe Lord Goodwin will side with us? Having a contact in the Council would be exactly what we need.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure he will,’ Samuel replied. ‘I know him very well. In fact, perhaps one of you could contact him today and let him know I am here?’

  Goodfellow nodded. ‘Of course. I can go to the palace now; but do you think it’s wise to mention your name, even to him?’

  ‘I trust him more than almost anyone,’ Samuel replied without hesitation.

  Goodfellow left for the palace, while Eric went to organise another room for Samuel. After only a short time, he returned and led Samuel to a small residence only a few buildings away, which was almost identical to Master Glim’s, both inside and out. He also brought some food and a great pile of papers that were just a part of the total sum of their studies upon his Journey Spell.

  ‘You may as well look over these now,’ he explained to Samuel. ‘It’s not like we are doing anything useful with them and it looks like we may have a lot of time on our hands.’

  They looked over the notes and talked long into the afternoon, until Goodfellow returned and announced that Master Goodwin could meet Samuel the very next day. They passed the remainder of the day idly, with Samuel catching up on all the other happenings since he had left the city. While it was only early evening, the two Erics left and Samuel crawled into bed with their notes spread around him. At some stage, he fell asleep and his dreams were, for once, sweet and refreshing, for his visions were of Leila and her sweet and beckoning smile. In the realms of his fantasy, she was still alive and well and everything felt at peace.

  About mid-morning of the next day, while the others were busy, Samuel became impatient waiting for his meeting and, despite all the firm warnings he had received, he left the confines of his tiny room. He only had to wait until after lunch to meet Tulan, but his feet had become far too itchy and he felt the need to get out and see some of the old city sights—and he also had a few loose ends he wanted to tie up. He wandered out of his room and through the ghostly school grounds with his hood pulled up around his head. It had been raining hard through the night and was still bucketing down as if it would never stop, and so barely a soul was out to brave the weather. Heading out through the gates, Samuel was not fussed by a little water and he continued into the city proper. He had walked those city streets many times in the past and he knew the whole north-eastern quarter like the back of his hand. The city was so huge, however, that few people knew all of its main streets well, let alone the endless alleyways and crooks and crannies that criss-crossed between them. It was a test of his memory to find the one small doorway he was looking for but, after several wrong turns and a little backtracking through the puddles here and there, he finally found the tiny smoking house where he had last met Soddan.

  He pushed through the cloth flap at the entrance and found the place exactly as it was the last time, as if time had not passed at all. Men were sitting around idly, sucking on their long hosed pipes and filling the room with a pungent blue smoke. After only a moment, a fuzzy-haired man came up to Samuel.

  ‘Can I help you, Good Lord?’ the man asked politely, glancing at the pool of water that was forming at Samuel’s feet. ‘A towel perhaps?’

  Samuel pushed back his hood and wiped some of the water from his face. ‘I’m looking for someone. His name is Soddan.’

  ‘A fitting name,’ the man said light-heartedly, but he continued at once on noticing Samuel’s lack of amusement. ‘Oh, yes. I know him,’ he replied, ‘but I haven’t seen him for quite some time.’

  Samuel nodded. ‘Very well. I’ll be going then.’

  ‘Would you like me to pass him a message?’

  ‘No, it’s not necessary. I’m sure I’ll bump into him eventually.’

  With that, Samuel pulled his sodden hood back over his head and left the smoking house. Surprisingly, before he had even reached the end of the street, the rain stopped as if the clouds had abruptly ran dry. Water continued to pour from the roofs and gutters for some time, forming an impressive array of streams and tiny waterfalls that cascaded down onto the glistening streets. Many of the city’s drains had obviously blocked up and some streets had become like rivers. Great ponds lingered in some corners and Samuel had to wade knee-deep in places, with his boots filling up with water and making the going all the more difficult. People were sweeping the rain out their doorsteps and throwing bucketfuls of water out into the streets as they began to clean up.

  Before Samuel had even reached halfway back to the school, the sun had begun shining through a few gaps in the clouds and it was almost looking like becoming a decent day. More people had begun to fill the streets and Samuel quickened his stride, hoping to get back to safety before the crowds came out in full force. Several patrols of Royal Guard had begun marching the streets, but they passed by Samuel without even a glance. It came as quite a surprise, however, when he spied a group of black-cloaked magicians coming up one of the slippery streets towards him. What made matters worse was that he recognised the short, stocky shape of Lord Vander at their head.

  Samuel decided it was safer to turn around altogether and avoid them, but as he made back up the hill from where he had come, he ran into further trouble. A patrol of guards was spread across the street and they were questioning a clot of Paatin merchants. There were no side streets to slip down, so Samuel stopped in place, caught between the magicians and the soldiers. He looked over his shoulder to see if the magicians were still following. Lord Vander had his head turned and seemed to be arguing with the barrel-chested Lord Hathen at his side. On their farthest left, Samuel was quite alarmed to spy Lord Jarrod. The man’s legs carried him as if he were weightless, for he almost seemed to float along in his boots.

  He must have paused a fraction too long, because Lord Hathen raised a hand in Samuel’s direction and began mutt
ering to Vander beside him. Magician’s robes were a convenience at some times, but now they made it near impossible for Samuel to hide amongst the crowd.

  ‘You, there!’ Hathen began to call up towards him. ‘Stop a moment.’

  Samuel acted as if he had not heard, turning his back to the men and starting away. He was terribly bad at looking casual at times like this, and he could not help but hurry a little, hoping to be away from them. They were by no means youngsters, after all, so Samuel just needed a little space and, as soon as he could, he would be off as fast as his feet could carry him. However, he still had to slip past the Royal Guards. Their captain was still engaged in chastising some apologetic hawker, but his men were waiting idly by and seemed on the lookout for anything to remove their boredom.

  Samuel changed his steps into long strides, taking as much ground as he could while doing his best to appear unhurried.

  ‘Hold there!’ Hathen shouted again behind him.

  ‘Stop there!’ Vander shouted as well. ‘Stop there at once!’

  A few of the guards had been attracted by the fuss and the captain had turned from his business to look directly at Samuel. Samuel looked over his shoulder and could see the councillors now puffing and hurrying after him. Only Lord Jarrod seemed unaffected by the exertion and stayed easily beside the other two without breaking his stride, pinning Samuel with his glinting gaze. Their shouts had now attracted the full attention of the Royal Guard and the men now stood attentively as Samuel approached; three agitated old magicians in pursuit. The captain waited there with his hands on his hips, a mix of puzzlement and amusement set on his face.

  ‘Captain! Stop that man!’ Vander called out through his wheezing.

  Samuel was trapped like a rat between the guards and the councillors. ‘Yes, Captain,’ Samuel called out also. ‘Stop that man!’ and he pointed to one of the city folk who just happened to be standing nearby, watching the show. At being singled out and realising that the Royal Guard were now staring straight at him, the man turned about and darted into his house in a panic, slamming the door quickly behind him.

  The captain was not fooled, however, and remained waiting patiently. As Samuel reached the guards, he realised he had no other recourse but to run. He burst into a dash and tried to scrape past the men, but they had their arms around him and held him firm as he struggled to wriggle free. Each man had brutish strength and Samuel found his squirming quite futile. They scuffled on the ground a moment before hands had him by the collar and the guards brought him to his feet.

  The captain stood before Samuel with a look of great fascination. ‘What do we have here?’ he asked. ‘Magicians chasing magicians? How intriguing.’

  Samuel realised he had no choice but to use his magic to escape but, as soon as he began to summon, streaks of magic came flashing in around him and he felt his hold on the ether suddenly severed. He recognised the weaves of Vander and Hathen and together the councillors had succeeded in blocking Samuel from reaching the source. The three councillors then came pushing through the clump of Royal Guards to stand by Samuel. With their hefty physiques, Vander and Hathen had no trouble at all shoving the guards aside, leaving Jarrod to glide in after them.

  ‘See! I was right!’ Lord Hathen said, striving to catch his breath and looking rather ill. ‘It’s that young troublemaker Samuel. Here! In the city!’

  ‘By the gods, lad, what are you doing here?’ Vander asked, red-faced and glazed in sweat. ‘You don’t know how much trouble you are in for, young man.’

  ‘You should not have returned at all,’ Lord Jarrod stated. Samuel was somewhat surprised by the sound of his words, for his voice was surprisingly thin and nasally—rather laughable, in fact, and not at all as menacing as he would have assumed. Samuel had not had any such dreams since he had last left Cintar, but it did confirm to him that the two scheming voices in his head had indeed belonged to Dividian and Jarrod.

  ‘May I ask what’s happening here, My Lords?’ the captain of the guards asked.

  ‘Thank you for your assistance, Captain,’ Hathen replied. ‘We’ve had no end of trouble with this young man in the past. We thought he had left the city for good, but now he seems to have had the gall to return. He has some serious questions to answer.’

  It was pointless for Samuel to struggle against the men who held him so firmly, and his magic was blocked by the councillors’ spell. Together, their magic was too strong. If he had had his wits about him, he would have called a spell shield into place at first sight of the men. It would have guaranteed a confrontation, but at least he would not have been defenceless.

  ‘What shall we do with him, then?’ Hathen asked.

  ‘Perhaps you should just let him go,’ Jarrod said as smoothly as he could. ‘I’m sure he won’t bother us any further.’

  ‘Release him?’ Vander asked with disbelief. ‘You must be mad! No, we will take him to the Archmage. He asked to see the boy if he ever had the chance.’

  At this, Jarrod only smirked.

  ‘Would you like some assistance?’ the captain asked, still looking quite fascinated by the situation.

  ‘Thank you, Captain. We certainly would. We don’t want to risk having this good-for-nothing slip away from us. What’s your name, good Captain?’ Hathen asked.

  ‘Captain Orrell. We’re just heading back to the palace, so I’ll be happy to escort you back.’

  ‘Very good, Captain. If you would, we need to take this young magician to the palace. If your men can help us, we would be very appreciative. We have the young man’s magic in check, and I’m sure he won’t want to risk upsetting you and catching a blade in his back—would you, young man?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Samuel replied darkly.

  ‘And we don’t want the city folk catching sight of such a scene,’ Lord Vander added. ‘It would not be good for the Order.’

  The captain nodded to his men and they released Samuel’s numbing arms.

  ‘Then, if you are returning to the palace, I will go on,’ Lord Jarrod stated. ‘I have other business to attend to. You seem to be managing things here.’

  ‘Very well, Lord Jarrod,’ Vander said. ‘We will meet again for dinner and speak more of our business then.’

  At that, Lord Jarrod strode off and Captain Orrell and his men began escorting Samuel and the two councillors towards the palace. The thought of being dragged before the Archmage was not nearly as disturbing as being left in the presence of Lord Jarrod. Everything about the man made Samuel’s skin crawl. He seemed unnerving, even unnatural. Samuel could have believed him to be some kind of devil or hideous creature disguised as a man—all except for his ridiculous voice, which served to break the illusion completely. It was impossible to imagine any such dark creature sounding so comical. It was no small wonder that Lord Jarrod spoke so little.

  Orrell and his men began their task and led Samuel through the streets, parting the growing crowds with their gruff commands. Samuel considered attempting to run several times, but every time he glanced towards a side street or alley, he found Orrell’s men looking back at him gravely and he put the thought aside. Without his magic, he was powerless to escape.

  It was not long before they found themselves marching in the shadows of the palace walls, following the compound’s great girth until reaching the mighty, hinged gates that led into the grounds proper.

  Despite his time in the city, Samuel had never had the opportunity to truly appreciate the palace itself. It was considered one of the jewels of the world. It could almost be considered an entity in itself and could easily swallow a country town such as Stable Canthem within it, without even touching the sides. Towers shot up like spears to heaven, fortified with engineering and age-old magic that defied explanation. The walls were designed to withstand any assault, even when the city itself had fallen. The sight was awesome and it did make Cintar truly magnificent. With such motivation, it was no small wonder that the Emperor felt so driven to be the ruler of the known world.


  Within the gates—themselves titanic constructions—Orrell’s squad marched across the wide grounds and led the way through a number of gates and courtyards until they reached the very base of the Mage Tower. Looking up, the stonework seemed to stretch skywards almost eternally and Samuel could feel the embers of magic that had been driven into the very stones themselves.

  ‘We shall take our leave from here, if that suits you,’ Captain Orrell suggested, and Vander and Hathen bade the man and his troops thanks before sending them off.

  ‘Go on!’ Vander ordered. ‘We don’t have all day, boy.’

  Samuel proceeded through the tower entrance, where he met the base of a wide set of stone stairs. The tower was quite narrow and completely round in design, so its stairs curled up against the inside walls, stopping occasionally at haphazardly built doors or trapdoors. Wooden beams and struts stuck out from everywhere and the feeling was quite constrictive. For all the impressiveness of the tower from the outside, inside it seemed entirely disorganised, like a patchwork of different ideas and repairs that spanned the centuries.

  After climbing many stairs and ascending many levels, Samuel began to realise he had not tired even in the slightest. Hathen and Vander, too, looked fresh and vital, bounding up spryly behind him. There were certainly spells at work and it immediately answered all Samuel’s questions about the practicalities of such tall constructions. Somehow, the builders had forged the tower with spells that would aid those who climbed its heights, making such ascent no more difficult than traversing a flat floor.