by Ilana Waters
“I won’t lie.” Philip buttoned his jacket. “Right up until the end, I thought beating Oblivion was impossible.” My parents had finally stopped fighting over the remote. Standing in front of Arthur and Philip, they looked at one another and smiled.
“Our son tends to beat the word ‘impossible’ to a bloody pulp,” Titus said.
I covered the phone’s mouthpiece with my hand. “Was that praise I heard from you?” I called.
“Don’t let it go to your head, eavesdropper,” he called back. “Oh, and does Colleen know about all this yet? You do realize you’re going to have to tell her at some point.”
Colleen! Oh, bugger.
I’d forgotten all about her.
Chapter 25
A few hours later, after a hot bath and tea made with ingredients Abigail wouldn’t divulge, I felt much better. Still sore, naturally, but well enough to take a walk to the Trevi Fountain. I figured it was a good way to procrastinate calling Colleen, though I knew I couldn’t postpone it forever. Besides, the story would keep, and right now, I didn’t think I could handle her apocalyptic reaction.
Apocalyptic. Ha! She had no idea how close we’d actually come.
When I left the Hassler, my parents were talking about staying in Rome a while. I figured they’d have a second honeymoon here, if they could stop arguing long enough. Philip planned to wrap things up with Rome’s branch of the PIA before heading back to London. Arthur was turning his fake holiday into a real one. I wasn’t sure what I was doing for now, but I knew one thing: it would involve lots of relaxation. No more otherworldly adventures for a long time.
I inhaled the soft night air, roaming the streets as a free man once again. But I wondered, was what Oblivion said true? Had I only been able to accomplish feats like rescuing Abigail, defeating Ferox, et cetera, because I had a demon inside me? No, I decided, watching two lovers embrace under a street lamp. I defeated Oblivion while he was fighting me the entire time. There could be no doubt whose magic was stronger.
As for the magic we saw within the lemniscate, none of us were really able to discuss it afterward. It wasn’t that our lips were physically sealed, just that we couldn’t find the right words. It didn’t help that our memories of it were fading far faster than they should. You know how bizarre things make perfect sense in dreams, then dissolve, and the understanding is lost? That was what it was like for us. And though we were terribly curious to know more, we agreed to leave the matter alone for the time being. I think we’d all had enough of other realms and realities for a while.
But I realized that if stories of the crystal were true—that it came to our world through a magic door—then such a passage must have given it certain powers. Like the way it did me. That was why I could hold the lemniscate, make the crystal glow. Crossing over had turned the crystal into a wedge, or key, that could open other magic doors, and keep them open. I was equally curious about its origin as I was about the world behind the lemniscate. But I was leaving that adventure for another time as well.
I stepped off the sidewalk so a family with several children could pass me. I was relieved that, for once, I didn’t wish to do any of them harm. I’d finally arrived at the Trevi Fountain, so large it nearly filled the palazzo. Even at this late hour, a hundred or more tourists were milling about, eating, drinking, laughing, talking, kissing. I was surrounded by life once more.
The fountain looked almost surreal, with turquoise water lit up from underneath. More light shone on it from the four-pronged street lamps on either side. Behind the fountain was a two-story facade with Corinthian columns; beneath it, a triumphal arch. And right in front, amid the stonework and falling water, was the god Oceanus. He seemed to ride into the waves on his shell-shaped chariot, aided by a horse and their Triton on either side.
I stood with my back to the water and took a deep breath. According to legend, if you throw a coin into the Trevi Fountain over your left shoulder with your right hand, you will eventually return to Rome.
“A coin, eh?” I chuckled to myself. “I’ve got something even better.” I removed it from my jacket pocket. It was clear and smooth, almost the length and breadth of a large thumb.
Oh, come now, dear readers. You don’t think I’d really throw the crystal into the fountain, do you? What do you take me for?
I took the glass shard Abigail had given me and held it in my right hand. Then, I tossed it over my left shoulder and heard the splash it made. When I turned around again, it had disappeared among the coins. Just one more glittering thing in a sea of copper, silver, and gold.
What did I do with the crystal? Not to worry, my friends. It’s somewhere safe. No, I’m not going to tell you where I put it. But trust me when I say this: it’s in the last place anyone would think to look.
I gave one more glance around the fountain, then decided to walk on. I wasn’t really sure where yet. I didn’t feel ready to go back to the Hassler. I’d just exorcised a demon—from myself, no less. I had the ability to open supernatural doors. I was a mage without a plan, whose life had no rhyme or reason.
I couldn’t wait to see what happened next.
Epilogue
Beneath the streets of Rome, not far from an ancient, magical temple, something very strange was happening. In a dark cavern, a gilded mirror frame began filling with shards of glass, seemingly from within itself. The shards made clinking, scraping sounds as they came together, one by one. Finally, the mirror was sparkling and flawless, save for one empty sliver near the bottom.
Then the mirror filled with smoke, black and swirling. A pair of malicious red eyes emerged from behind the smoke, growing larger and larger. Finally, they stopped growing and fixed themselves in the center of the frame. Anyone unfortunate enough to be in the cavern just then would have heard a voice. It had a distinct and disturbing quality. It was not a man’s or a woman’s, but younger. And it was scratchy and doubled somehow, as if there were two voices.
“Mirror as a portal. It is a bit clichéd,” the voice sighed. “But it’ll suit. Now . . .”
“Where did that missing piece go?”
Your Review Matters
Your review matters. Really.
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Please, if you enjoyed The Mage Tales, Books I-III (or any individual books in the set), take one minute to leave a review. I’d be extremely grateful if you did. It doesn’t have to be long, or perfect. It certainly doesn’t have to be five stars. It just has to exist.
Because it matters. Even one review. Yes, really.
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Don’t Forget Your Free Book
Before you go, be sure to grab your FREE BOOK! Here’s a bit about it:
Oh dear. I think I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a fix again.
It’s been a tough couple of months for Joshua, a mage. After battling vampires, despots, and demons, he heads to Chicago for some downtime, maybe even a little romance. Unfortunately, fate has other plans.
Joshua and his would-be lover are kidnapped by two vampires and threatened with death. The vampires agree to spare them, but only if Joshua helps find an ancient statue . . . by dawn. But he and his kidnappers aren’t alone in their search. Three other vampires want the statue as well, and not only do they kill those who get in their way, they enjoy the killing.
It seems this mage just can’t stay out of trouble, even for one night.
All in a Night’s Work is Book 3.5 of the Mage Tales, but can easily be enjoyed as a stand-alone story.
Afterword
Thank you so much for reading my book! Feel free to get in
touch anytime. You can also sign up for my newsletter and be the first to hear about new releases and other cool stuff. While you’re at it, check out my other books to see if anything strikes your fancy.
About the Author
Ilana Waters writes mostly fantasy for adults, young adults, and middle graders. She once pet-sat an electric eel and crashed her car into a house, though not on the same day. Before she became a writer, she was reprimanded and/or fired for reading in every job she ever held.
She considers this her greatest accomplishment to date.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank the following people for helping with this book:
Marcia Trahan: copy editor and proofreader extraordinaire.
Deranged Doctor Design: cover designers made of sheer awesome.
Diba S., Tonja D., Ruthanne R., Mackenzie W., Meghan P., Julie G., Mara P., Jessa K., Ellie F., Rachel M., and Ameera K: bodacious beta readers.
Everyone I might have forgotten to add. If I omitted them, there is no one but myself to blame.
