The Mage Tales, Books I-III

by Ilana Waters

  “Erm, that’s all right.” Arthur rubbed his fingers with other hand. “Saved me a trip to the doctor’s and a good six weeks of recovery, I wager.”

  “It’s the least I could do for someone who helped my son the way you did,” she said, and turned to me, getting a good look at my face. “Oh!” she cried.

  “I’m fine.” I tried swiveling my head back and forth, but eventually, Abigail caught my face in her hands and murmured the ancient words. I could feel the dented places start to plump back up, everywhere Tarik had bashed me and sliced me, and before that, Blackline. Crushed herbs floated around my face, which stung like mad, but I held still. If I didn’t, Abigail would just demand I do so anyway.

  “You really ought to conserve your energy,” I urged as she finished. She looked drained, her complexion ashen. “I’ll heal eventually anyway.”

  “You’ll have to,” she sighed, scanning my face to survey her work, then patting her pocket. “I ran out of herbs.”

  “What about you?” I asked, placing my hands on her upper arms. Now it was my turn to look her up and down. “You’re all scuffed up as well.”

  “Oh, never fear.” Abigail gave a weak smile and waved one hand in the air. “A little rest, and I’ll be right as rain.”

  “You’d think twenty years asleep would be enough rest for anyone,” I joked. We stared at each other, then embraced. Ah, the moments like these I thought I might never have again.

  “Much as I hate to interrupt,” Titus said, “we really should be getting back ‘up there,’ as it were.” He pointed to the world above us, partly visible through the enormous hole. “Some of us are weak from loss of blood.” He eyed Arthur and smiled. “Though perhaps that can be remedied while we’re still here.” Arthur swallowed hard, fingered his throat, and stepped back.

  “Father, don’t be ridiculous.” I started taking off my jacket to put around Abigail’s shoulders, but Titus beat me to it. It was mostly a charred mess from the fire, but I suppose it’s the thought that counts. “Not very grateful to the man who was practically fighting by your side moments ago, are we?” I said. I knew that would get Titus’s attention. If there was one thing he admired, it was people you could count on in the heat of battle. “I mean, he was rather impressive with that crossbow,” I added.

  “I suppose,” Titus remarked, looking at Arthur with disappointment. Hopefully, he could wait till we were above ground to feed.

  “I think he was amazing,” said Abigail. “Thank you, Arthur, for all you did for our family. And for keeping my Joshua safe.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Yes, thank you, Arthur,” I said. “Truly.” Titus just looked at Arthur, nodded, and grunted.

  “Oh, I only fired the old girl off a couple of times.” Arthur blushed and nodded towards the crossbow.

  “Though bear in mind,” Titus said to Abigail, “none of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t let yourself get kidnapped.”

  Abigail’s jaw dropped, and she put her hands on her hips. “Let myself get kidnapped? I’ll have you know there were some powerful protection spells on the house that night.”

  “There were,” I agreed. “I can vouch for it.”

  “It’s not my fault those bloodthirsty reprobates caught me at a weak moment,” Abigail said. “I’d been using my magic for work all day; I was exhausted.”

  “Yes,” Titus said, “and this is what happens when you fail to look out for number one.”

  Abigail threw her arms in the air. “So we should all just be selfish animals who trample others to get what we want?”

  Unbelievable. My parents had been in each other’s presence for less than an hour, and they were already arguing.

  “I think what Abigail means,” I said, “is that she promises not to get so run-down trying to help others that she leaves herself vulnerable. Right?” I raised my eyebrows at her.

  Abigail narrowed her eyes at me. “Riiight.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Titus said softly. We all stood around awkwardly for a moment.

  “Lord, I’m dying of thirst,” Arthur said loudly. “Anyone want some water?”

  “Love some,” said Abigail. “Joshua, you want any?”

  “I think I have some edibles in here as well.” Arthur started taking things out of the satchel.

  Although I was thirsty, I was too keyed up to think of drinking anything. “Maybe in a bit,” I said. As Abigail and Arthur leaned over the satchel, I went and stood next to Titus.

  “So,” I said, looking around the cavern.

  “So,” he repeated, doing the same.

  “About that, ah, remark I made earlier, when we were searching for Abigail,” I said. “How you would have been just another slaughterer . . .”

  “It’s already forgotten,” said Titus. Then he sighed. “Besides, you were probably right.”

  My eyes widened. My father admitting I was right about something? Dear reader, I was shocked to find the world didn’t come to a standstill.

  “There’s a reason I don’t share some of the details of my past,” he continued. “About the kind of general I used to be. Much of it . . . much of it is nothing to be proud of.” Titus closed his eyes, then opened them. “Sometimes I’m torn between wanting you to be more like me, and secretly being glad that you aren’t.” He glanced at me, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. “Well, perhaps not so secretly now. I don’t really know how you developed this quality of putting others before yourself. It’s quite . . . unusual.” I couldn’t tell if he meant it as a compliment, but I decided to take it as one.

  “When you were born,” he said, his voice much lower, “you were so sickly, we didn’t think you were going to survive. Odd, for witch blood. Perhaps it’s because of that I forget how strong you are.”

  This was an unexpected moment of tenderness from my father. I cleared my throat. “Well, that’s my motto,” I said, balling one hand into a fist. “Virtus per fragilitas. Strength through fragility.”

  Titus rolled his eyes, then surveyed the cavern floor. It was still littered with the bodies of the many vampires we defeated. “Well, regardless, I was wrong about you,” he conceded. “Although not as physically capable as I would like, it’s true you have abilities that should be valued. Though for a while, I feared you’d turn out to be a coward.”

  “Just because one isn’t bloodthirsty doesn’t make one a coward,” I pointed out.

  “Yes,” my father said wryly. “I see that now. And I thought that because you couldn’t be loyal to me—”

  I started to speak, but Titus put up his hand.

  “Let me finish,” he said. “I thought . . . I thought it meant you couldn’t be loyal to anyone. But the way you single-mindedly rescued your mother says otherwise.”

  “I was never disloyal to you, Father,” I protested. “But perhaps a clash in personalities might have given that impression. We are a bit different, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Yes, I did notice,” he murmured. Again, the wry smile. “And I didn’t really think you were doing quite as bad a job with the investigation as I pretended.”

  My mouth formed an O. “Well, you certainly could’ve fooled me!” I said.

  “And I actually respected the way you held your own with half the Council,” Titus continued, putting his hands in his pockets. “Rather disappointed I wasn’t there to see it.”

  “I did get a few good blows in,” I confessed with a grin.

  Titus tilted his head towards me. “Also, I was paying attention while you were fighting Blackline. You made a vacuum when he tried to bury you, yes? Not too shabby.”

  “Don’t forget the part where I turned his own spell on him,” I added.

  “And that.”

  “So,” I said after a moment, “does this mean you finally respect me as a fighter?” And as a man? I thought to myself.

  Titus gave me a withering look. “Let’s not get carried away.”
r />   I waited for him to say something about how I rescued him from the fire, but no thanks were forthcoming. I tried not to be too put out. He probably already admitted more than was healthy for his pride tonight.

  “I will say that having children is an interesting experience,” he said. “I never thought I would. In some way, you are proof I was not a complete failure in life. My entire empire crumbled—”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Your empire?”

  “Well, the empire, anyway. It all turned to dust, except for you.” He looked me up and down. “You are still here.”

  I shrugged. “Yes, but other than continuing to exist, I didn’t really do anything.”

  “You gave Rome back to me,” Titus said, deliberately not meeting my eyes. “That’s something I never thought I’d have again. I was weak. I didn’t have the courage to return by myself, to face what I had lost.”

  I knew it! I thought.

  “But now that it’s over,” Titus continued, “I feel a sort of peace about it.”

  “You lacked courage?” I said. “The great Titus Aurelius, afraid? I didn’t think such a thing was possible.” At least, I didn’t when I started this little quest.

  “Not afraid, exactly,” my father said quickly, turning back to me. “Dreading the idea, more like.”

  My eyebrows knit together. “And are you disappointed it’s not the way you remember?”

  For a few seconds, Titus said nothing. “No,” he finally replied. “I’m not. In many ways, it’s actually a relief. Some things are familiar, others not. Some things are superior, in fact. Though not those damnable Vespas.”

  “No,” I agreed, smiling. A brief image of my father trying to avoid the collision earlier flashed through my mind. “Not the Vespas.”

  “Ancient Rome had its age, as did we ancient witches,” Titus declared. “Now we have a new one. Perhaps a better one. Perhaps,” he gave me a sidelong glance, “the age of mages.” He put one hand on my shoulder, and we smiled at each other.

  “Well, we’re ready to get out of here if you are,” Arthur said, walking over to us with Abigail beside him. His satchel was slung over his shoulder, and under one arm he held the crossbow.

  “Yes, I’ve had quite enough of caves for a while, thank you,” said Abigail, glancing around.

  “And I’ve got quite a bit of paperwork ahead of me back at the old office,” Arthur said.

  “Ah, Arthur.” I raised my index finger. “About that . . . earlier you mentioned having to record tonight’s events for the PIA. Am I to assume they’ll be starting a supernatural file on me, now?”

  “Well,” Arthur admitted, “after what happened tonight, we’d be remiss if we didn’t. You are an extremely unusual young man, Joshua.”

  “Wonderful,” Titus groaned. “Everything your mother and I worked for years to avoid.” He looked at Arthur. “Though I suppose we can always kill him so word doesn’t get out.”

  “No,” Abigail said sternly, “we cannot.”

  “Mr. Aurelius, I can personally vouch this will go no farther than the walls of the PIA,” Arthur assured him.

  “The word of a mortal,” my father grumbled. “Practically worthless.”

  “Won’t you get in an awful lot of trouble with the agency?” I asked Arthur. “I mean, for helping supernatural creatures the way you did tonight?”

  Arthur shrugged and adjusted his satchel. “I won’t tell if you won’t. I’ll record the events, of course—just not my part in them. With that in mind, I think it would be best if you didn’t return to the PIA, Joshua.” His expression was apologetic. “In other words, you’re fired. I’m sorry.”

  I sighed. “It’s all right; that’s what I assumed would happen. It’s not as if I was really planning a lifelong career there anyway.”

  “Though I’d keep that crystal safe on you for the time being, Joshua,” Titus said. “Somehow, I doubt we’ve seen the last of its usefulness.”

  “Does that mean you’re tempted to exploit the crystal for your own purposes?” I asked. Just as I suspected.

  “Intriguing idea, but I did say you should be its guardian, did I not?” Titus replied, and I realized he had a point. Even with the power the crystal was thought to possess, Titus showed no interest in acquiring it for himself. He was telling the truth when he said he undertook this quest for Abigail . . . and me. Really, the revelations tonight were quite staggering.

  “Actually,” Arthur said, “it’s possible your father already benefitted from the crystal’s power without even knowing it.”

  “Excuse me?” said Titus.

  “That is, assuming Mrs. Silver—erm, Abigail—had it in her possession on the night Joshua was conceived.” Titus looked at Arthur as if he’d gone mad. “According to everything the PIA knows about this crystal,” explained Arthur, “Abigail’s possession of it may have helped your son come about. After all, it appears Joshua is a child born of the communion of mystical forces.”

  Abigail’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. A mystical force like . . . love?”

  Arthur scratched his head. “That’s a simplistic way of looking at it, but yes. When two entities share a common bond or experience, walls are broken down. ‘Love’ looks at these walls as emotional, but there are walls between worlds as well. Some of these worlds have access to incredible energies. It’s entirely possible that a life-giving power leaked out and entered your bodies at the moment of, erm . . .”

  “We get the idea,” said Titus dryly.

  “Anyway.” Arthur cleared his throat and turned to me. “Your parents don’t seem the kind of people who ‘let their walls down’ easily, as it were. When they did, it was like a signal for the magic of the crystal to come through. It only happens once in a millennium, apparently. And there’s no telling what form the resulting magic will take. It seems this time, it took the form of a—”

  “Miracle,” finished Abigail, smiling broadly.

  “Well, I was going to say ‘son,’ madam,” Arthur remarked. “But if you prefer to look at it as a miracle, I won’t contradict you. Though it would explain how a vampire could father a child when there is no record of one ever having done so.”

  “Miracles . . . love. I think I’m going to be ill.” Titus shook his head in disgust, but placed one hand on the small of my mother’s back.

  And just like that, it was as if their earlier argument had never happened. Still, I was unsure of my parents’ future together. I couldn’t imagine them living under the same roof. But at least they weren’t at each other’s throats—for now.

  “So that’s what that book meant when it said the crystal was an ‘opener of doors,’ ” I realized. “It lets magic through to other places. But the Council said it was responsible for wars, plagues . . .”

  “As I mentioned,” said Arthur, “there’s no telling what form magic will take. Some use it for good, some use it for ill. It’s the same with all energy.”

  “So what did the vampires tonight want with it, then?” Abigail asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Arthur replied, rubbing his chin. “Perhaps with a bit more research, we’ll find out.”

  “Maybe we’ll find out what the hell all that was with the Council as well,” Titus said, shaking his head. “Never have I known them to leave a confrontation for a phone call.”

  “It must have been important,” said Abigail.

  “That’s what worries me,” remarked Titus. “That, and the enormous hole above us which mortals will surely find in the morning, along with several dead vampires. And potentially Ferox’s lair.”

  “It’s a very rural area,” I assured him. “It will take days for anyone to notice, and before that, we can return and use magic to cover it back up again.”

  “Very well,” Titus said, looking around him and sighing. “There’s just enough time for us to get back to the hotel before dawn. We’re staying in the Hassler’s penthouse,” he said pointedly to Abigail.


  “Ooo—the penthouse!” she said.

  Titus smiled. “I booked it especially for us.”

  “Ahem.” I cleared my throat.

  “What?” Titus said to me. “I knew we’d find her eventually. Still, it’s probably best if we didn’t get too comfortable. We should head back to the States soon. I need to check in on the casin—”

  Suddenly, the ground beneath us started to shake. Dirt and debris began coming down from the rim of the hole above, as well as the walls of the cavern.

  “Joshua, what’s happening?” Abigail shouted over the noise, holding onto Titus for balance. “Are you doing another spell?”

  “It’s not me!” My hand shot out to steady myself as the earth continued rumbling. We looked all around, but couldn’t find the source of the quaking.

  “Then what the devil is going on?” asked Arthur. But his words were swallowed up by something that was a cross between a scream and a roar.

  “Oh my God!” Abigail cried. “It’s Ferox. He’s actually begun to rise!”

  “Forget what I said about returning to the States,” said Titus grimly. He held onto my mother with both arms as the rest of us turned pale. “It looks like we’ll be staying in Rome a little while longer.”

  THE END

  Ah, Rome. The city of Raphael . . . Bernini . . . Caravaggio. And an ancient and evil vampire who’s recently come out of a deep sleep.

  The mage known as Joshua is finally reunited with the mother who disappeared when he was a teen, but there’s little time to celebrate. His mother’s kidnappers may be dead, but their master—a merciless vampire who wants to rule humanity—is very much alive. And he grows more powerful every night, making followers and plotting overthrows.

  The only hope Joshua has of stopping this tyrant is a daring scheme that puts him in the belly of the beast—a beast that includes treachery, gas attacks, fake corpses, beheadings, and bombs.

  Can a few witches, a possibly-repentant blood-seeker, and a lone mage save the world? Or is the whole situation about to explode?

  Literally.

  The Mage’s Trick