Fire Mage (Firecaller Series Book 1)

by Trudi Jaye

  She sighed. Nate had told her about Argus using the herb against him. “Baneberry root inhibits a mage’s abilities. It’s not well known to anyone but the mages, but someone told these men.”

  Argus nodded. “Lothar is desperate to get him, even if it means giving away mage secrets.”

  A horse whinnied in the darkness, and they both turned to watch Bree enter the campsite. Bree’s horse, a black mare with white markings, nuzzled into her side, while Jena and Argus’s horses followed on either side. They were nervous of the blood and the fire, stepping and stomping when they came closer. Bree put a hand up to calm her mare, rubbing her hand down her nose.

  “We’ll tie them up over here, Bree, out of the camp area. They’ll be within earshot, but won’t be frightened of... all this.”

  “Where are the mercenaries’ horses?” asked Bree.

  “They must have been set free,” Jena said. They hadn’t seen any horses; it seemed a possible explanation. Unless they had suffered the same fate as the mercenaries. She glanced at Nate. She hoped not.

  “I’ll help, Bree,” said Argus, heading off toward the horses.

  Jena sat next to Nate, putting her hands up toward the fire. Its heat warmed her fingers, but she still felt chilled. She glanced at Nate’s face, trying to see a reaction or even the knowledge that she was there.

  Nothing.

  She touched his shoulder, hesitantly, unsure how he would take the contact. He simply continued to stare into the flames, his body a statue.

  “Nate?” she said. Nothing.

  She searched the Book of Spells, trying to find something that would explain what was happening. She was almost certain Nate had done this. The why seemed obvious; they’d captured him. But the how was a puzzle she was struggling to unravel. He’d had a hood over his head covered in baneberry root. He shouldn’t have been able to cast the tiniest spell, let alone cause the total annihilation of the camp. Not even the raven on her stomach was helping. It kept showing her pictures of Thornal as a young mage with his tattooed face.

  When Argus and Bree walked back into the circle of light created by the fire, Jena gestured at the fire. “Should we put it out?”

  “No. Whatever happened here will have scared off anything in the surrounding area for the night,” said Argus, looking out into the darkness. “But we leave early, and we take watches through the night.”

  “Can you help him?” Jena turned to Bree. There was nothing in the Book, but maybe a healer would know more.

  “He looks like he’s not really here, like his mind is wandering. It’s common in patients who’ve seen or done something terrible.” Bree looked around at the torn and broken items lying scattered around them. “I think this qualifies.”

  Argus nodded in agreement. “I’ve seen the same thing in men after a battle.”

  A shiver went through Jena. “Will his mind come back?”

  “Mostly they do. We have to be patient,” said Bree.

  “I don’t think we have time to be patient,” said Jena, glancing at Argus. She went over to the horses to collect a blanket from her travel pack. One her way back, she looked around for Nate’s horse, but the pretty chestnut mare was nowhere to be seen. Wrapping the blanket tight around her shoulders, she returned to the fire.

  With only a small amount of resistance, Jena managed to get Nate to lie next to the campfire. His body was warm, but he was shaking, so she pulled her blanket from around her shoulders and put it over him as well. He didn’t close his eyes, and Jena didn’t think he would any time soon.

  But at least he might rest if he was lying down.

  Jena walked around, trying to find something else to keep her warm that wasn’t covered in blood. There was a travel bag lying nearby, miraculously out of the range of splatter. After pulling out bits of dried meat, a knife, and a spare coat, Jena found a blanket. It smelled and was stained with things Jena preferred not to think about, but it was warm.

  She hesitated.

  But she had slept in worse. A few years of living the good life with a mage and she was suddenly all fussy about what kept her warm. Hauling it out of the bag, she wrapped it around her shoulders. Heading back to the fire, Jena curled into a ball and lay down near Bree, who was already wrapped up warm in her own blanket.

  “So what do we do now?” Bree asked Argus, who was sitting the first watch at the edge of the fire.

  “You sleep. In the morning, we ride to Remus. No backing out now, Bree, just because you’ve realized what you’ve gotten yourself into.” His hard words cut through the night.

  “Don’t you dare put words in my mouth,” said Bree, just as sharp. She turned her body away from Argus and lay looking into the fire. “Goodnight, Jena,” she said pointedly.

  Argus watched Bree with a frown on his face, his eyes disturbingly intense.

  “Wake me for the next watch, Argus,” said Jena. “You need your rest as well.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  “Jena.”

  Jena groaned, trying to ignore the voice. Something grabbed her arm and shook her. She swatted her hand in the general direction.

  “Wake up. It’s your shift.”

  She opened her eyes. It was Argus.

  She struggled to pull herself up into a sitting position. The blanket had proved to be scratchy and smelly, but warm. She’d been in a deep sleep.

  Argus moved away to curl up on the other side of the fire. He’d been keeping it stoked; the embers were still flaring bright against the dark sky.

  She sat on the overturned log that had been Argus’s watch station, pulling her blanket around her to ward off the worst of the cold. She couldn’t see much aside from the fire and the bodies of her three companions. But she could hear animals snuffling, and the wind wandering through the low plains trees. Nate’s eyes were closed now, but he didn’t look to be at rest. If anything, his body looked more stiff and tense than it had when they had first found him.

  How could he possibly have done all this? Jena rolled ideas around in her head. She didn’t see how he could have cast a spell, unless they’d stupidly taken the hood off for some reason. Even then, she was fairly sure the effects would last long enough to keep him confused.

  Could he be the sole survivor of something totally unrelated? That seemed even more far-fetched. Jena stared at his face in the firelight. Dark brown hair and eyes, a mouth that seemed to smile more in self-mockery than in genuine humour. A mage tattoo that slashed across his face, creating a sense of mystery. He didn’t let much of his true self show. She knew it because she was the same.

  So what had happened? She couldn’t explain it, but she was sure the carnage was a direct result of something Nate had done. How could it be otherwise? The raven moved on her stomach, and she felt the fluttering of inky feathers against her skin. Images appeared in her mind. Thornal in his younger years, a demon floating around his head.

  He looked strange to her; his mage tattoo was still on his face, and he was smiling in pride at the demon before him. It wasn’t easy to summon a demon; in fact, only the best could do it. The ability to force creatures from the Edges was a skill the mages valued above most others. The ability to weave fire and work with demons had allowed the Great Mage to create the Royal Flames.

  But the Great Mage hadn’t been able to protect against everything. According to Argus, Lothar had found a way to control the Flames. The king-in-waiting was also after the Book of Spells and wasn’t above using creatures such as the Riders and wolvans to assist.

  Lothar was a powerful enemy.

  She looked at Nate again. Was he strong enough to survive a confrontation with Lothar? He twitched in his sleep, jerking his arm up over his face. Jena sighed. She didn’t know if he was, but she wanted him to live long enough to have a chance.

  A screech in the night made her jump. A birdcall, she told herself, and pulled her blanket closer around her shoulders. When the screech sounded again, this time closer, she stared into the night sky to the west. There
was nothing but darkness. But all her instincts said trouble was coming their way.

  She stood and went over to Argus, shaking him awake. “Something’s coming,” she said. Then she did the same to Bree. She hesitated beside Nate, but touched his arm as well. His eyes opened immediately, and he looked directly up at her. There were flames in his eyes, a reflection of the embers in the fire. But Jena had a feeling those fires would have been there anyway.

  “What is it?” he croaked.

  “You’re back,” she said stupidly.

  “What is it, Jena?” asked Argus from behind her.

  She turned around. “There was a noise. A creature in the sky, nothing I’ve ever heard before.” Just as she was explaining, another screech slashed through the night.

  Argus looked sharply into the sky in the direction of the noise. A small glowing light emerged in the distance, growing larger as they watched.

  “Lavaen,” whispered Nate. “I recognize the call.”

  Argus nodded, not wasting words. He grabbed his blanket, reaching to pull Bree up and away from the fire. “Move away from the fire. It’ll be attracted to that first.”

  Jena helped Nate to stand. He was wobbly getting to his feet but managed to walk on his own once he was standing. Argus and Bree fetched their horses, and as a group, they moved quickly away from the fire. Jena glanced back and saw the great creature outlined against the night.

  It was unexpectedly beautiful. She could see a faint red glowing outline around the edges of the beast’s large scales, providing a muted radiance against the night. She could hear rather than see the large wings as they beat their way through the sky, and its eyes smoldered in a way that warmed her simply by watching.

  “It’s amazing,” she said. She’d stopped walking, and it was only when Nate took a grip on her arm and pulled her along that she remembered the lavaen was probably another of Lothar’s beasts.

  “Amazingly deadly,” said Argus.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Nate burned.

  The effects of his new abilities still coursed through his limbs, the blood flowing hot in his veins, making him itch with need. For what, he didn’t know, but it was a terrible feeling of unfulfilled desire.

  The whirling fires inside him had finally died down, and he vowed he wasn’t going to allow them to rise up ever again. It had been like standing in the middle of a blazing bushfire that ravaged everything in its path. A bushfire fueled on blind, unreasoning anger.

  For now, it was all he could do to keep pace with Jena and the others as they ran from the lavaen.

  “There’s no point running,” said a now-familiar voice. The old mage ghost glowed in the night. His expression could only be described as satisfied.

  Nate didn’t stop. “Why?” he asked the ghost, out of the side of his mouth.

  “You know why. You’re not stupid. Save your energy for what you will need to do,” the ghost mage said quietly.

  “No!” Nate forgot to whisper and halted to make his point.

  Beside him, Jena stopped. She gestured at him to hurry. “Come on, Nate,” she said, glancing at the others who were racing ahead. “Run.”

  “She’ll catch you all in a wing-beat. Tell them to stop. You can handle this.”

  He resisted for a heartbeat and then let out a breath. “We have to stop here,” he said to Jena, knowing the ghost was right. “There’s no point running any further. We’re out in the open.”

  “We have to try,” said Argus from a little way ahead, his voice urgent.

  “Tell him you have a plan. I know how to beat her.” The ghost drifted in front of Nate, floating disconcertingly close to Jena.

  Nate ran a hand through his hair, his breathing agitated. He still hadn’t recovered from the last time he’d listened to the ghost. He’d only just finished vowing never to go there again.

  The lavaen screeched. He looked up to where the glowing body of the beast cruised toward them, covering a massive distance with each beat of its great wings.

  “I have a plan,” he said, almost a whisper. He had no choice.

  “What is it?” Jena walked back to him, her body moving through the old ghost as she did so. She shivered, but otherwise didn’t seem to notice.

  “I can’t tell you.” Inwardly he winced. He hoped the ghost mage knew what he was doing.

  “Because you don’t have a plan,” said Argus. The mercenary strode back to where Jena and Nate were standing. “We both know what that creature is capable of, Nate. We have to keep moving.” He leaned in close to Nate, his face a mask of anger.

  “You know as well as I do that we can’t outrun a lavaen. Not here, not ever.”

  The ghost mage floated close to his side. “Tell them you’re going to call a demon,” he whispered. “Then send the demon to talk to the lavaen. They’re both creatures of fire. It is your only chance.” Cold air floated across the nape of his neck. But relief flowed through Nate. He didn’t need to go back to the terrifying fiery crater at his center just to call a demon.

  “I’ll call a demon. It’ll help.” He didn’t wait for them to reply. He reached for his usual source of power and spoke the words of the spell. Raising his hands high, he tried to gather the usual elements from the Edges. But nothing came. He was an empty shell.

  The lavaen screeched. This time it was very close.

  A cold breeze brushed across his neck. “Your power has pooled inside the fire at your core. Your old mage ways will not work now,” the mage ghost whispered.

  His heart beating fast in his chest, Nate ignored the ghost mage and tried again. Nothing. It was gone; he’d lost the small amount of mage ability he’d had. The ghost mage had tricked him, leaving him with only one possibility to save them all; a possibility that he couldn’t control. He could just as easily kill the others as the lavaen. “I can’t,” he whispered.

  Aching need flowed through his body at the thought of going back to that other place. But he hadn’t been in control of his actions; he’d been relegated to observer as the fires raging inside had taken over. They’d easily overcome his captors. Not just overcome. Decimated. Destroyed.

  “Do it, Nate! In time, you will learn control. For now, you have no choice.” This time the ghost mage’s voice thundered in the night’s silence.

  Nate looked up to discover his three companions staring at him. Argus and Jena’s faces had a fair approximation of impassiveness, but Bree’s eyes were wide and terrified. She glanced up at the sky and then at him.

  He had no choice.

  Nate closed his eyes, and held his hands in front. He knew exactly where to go this time. A small spark emerged, growing larger and larger until it exploded in the air above Nate’s head. It wasn’t huge, no bigger than Nate’s head, but it was bright and vibrant, an impressive shape that glowed like a million stars crowded together into one space. The demon was brighter than any he had called before.

  “Master, how may I help?”

  “I have a task for you.”

  “Yes, master. What is your wish?”

  “The lavaen. I believe you may be able to convince it not to attack us?”

  “Ah.” The demon gave an approximation of a nod and streaked in a direct line to the descending fire creature. Nate held his breath.

  The four of them stood like statues, waiting. Nate couldn’t take his eyes off the bright spark he’d called forth. The demon approached the beast, flying around its head. The huge animal took a swipe at the fire demon, ducking its head and flying past where the demon hovered.

  The demon continued to fly around the lavaen’s head, ducking and diving whenever the bigger beast swiped its paw. The two fire creatures glowed in the sky; it would have been beautiful if it weren’t so frightening.

  The lavaen screeched.

  Bree jumped. Next to her, the black mare shook her head, pulling back on the rope Bree was holding. The rope dragged out of Bree’s hand and the mare reared up. The lavaen screeched again, and that was all it took. The mare
reared again and turned to race across the plains in the dark.

  “No!” said Bree. “Chamomile!” She would have raced after the horse, but Argus held her back, his arms secure around her middle.

  “She’s gone. She’ll find us again, if she wants to eat,” Argus said calmly.

  “But—”

  “You’ll never catch her.”

  Above them, the lavaen screeched again. It was almost directly overhead now, and the demon still buzzed around its head. Nate gazed up at the overwhelming creature.

  The shiny black scales were almost invisible in the darkness; the red glow emanating from beneath the scales made it mesmerizing. The inner radiance created a map of glowing cracks across its body, scattered randomly, but somehow making sense. Its wings were covered in thick black skin, and shimmering fiery veins were visible underneath the thin membrane. It was as if liquid fire ran through the creature’s body.

  The wind from the circling creature’s wings threw up dust and pulled at their clothes. Nate put his hands up, not sure if it was to stop whatever it might do to him, or to try another spell. Both seemed pointless.

  Molten black claws came down directly at Nate. A hot breeze poured across his cheek as the beast swiped her arm close to his head. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch, just tensed for the moment when the deadly claws would pierce his skin. He couldn’t even make his legs run. He was frozen, despite the heat raging inside him. Even the mage ghost had nothing to say. Still the demon raced around the lavaen’s head, a small light buzzing against a mountain of power.

  This close, the next screech from the creature was deafening. It unlocked his body, and Nate crouched down and put his hands over his ears. Looking up he saw the lavaen’s glowing eyes directly overhead. The creature hung in the air, wild and angry, its eyes burning dangerously.

  “Come on then, creature. Do it,” he yelled into its face, as the fire inside him began to glow. He stood up. If it came to a fight, he could use his new power to injure the creature, and give the others time. Perhaps they needn’t all die.