The Sartious Mage (The Rhythm of Rivalry)

by B. T. Narro

  Kalli’s anger turned to embarrassment from the chiding. Her eyes found Lisanda for a blink and then looked into the dirt.

  “I want him dead.” Kalli spoke so quietly I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly.

  Sannil wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Kalli’s head still hung low. “As do I,” he agreed with a soft voice. He switched his grip to hold both of her shoulders, bending down to look her in the eye. “But it’s not our decision whether someone lives or dies. Understand?”

  I turned and put my hand on Lisanda’s back to lead her away. This was a moment Kalli didn’t want to share with anyone but family. I could feel it.

  My sister loved our animals, the cats and horses especially. I figured she must have so much hatred for Exo for killing them that she couldn’t contain it all. As often happened with emotions too powerful for our own bodies, her hatred had begun to fragment with much of it directed at the Takary family and Lisanda specifically—the only one here to answer for their crimes.

  But I figured that misguided blame would fade soon enough.

  “Is your sister usually violent?” Lisanda asked when we were some distance away.

  I shook my head with a smile. “Definitely not.”

  Lisanda didn’t look relieved. She absently stared ahead at a fallen tree with nearly naked, gnarled branches. It lay among three others just like it that were still standing. Something had knocked the tree over, causing it to rip from its roots. It was a gloomy sight. I wasn’t sure why Lisanda couldn’t take her eyes off it.

  Our farm was on the outskirts of the forest, and after just a couple miles we were surrounded by trees.

  Sannil and Kalli were far behind. It seemed as if they had a lot to talk about, so I gave them their distance.

  Lisanda and I talked while we traveled, first about nothing—what to expect from the weather, nothing of interest. Long pauses between empty statements made it clear we each had heavy worries we weren’t sharing.

  Eventually, I couldn’t keep them to myself any longer. I told her of my concerns about putting my family in danger and how I hated myself for what happened. I knew Lisanda was the wrong audience for purging my emotional conflicts, but I continued nonetheless. I told her that I should’ve behaved myself in her father’s throne room, that I’d let rage take over.

  “You could take me back,” Lisanda said with a pessimistic tone when I was done. She knew full well I wouldn’t do that.

  I felt embarrassed about exposing my remorse to the girl I’d kidnapped. Now all I’d done was make the situation awkward. Luckily, my father called to me from behind, asking me to wait.

  He and Kalli caught up to us. Kalli gave me a smile and a nod and continued forward with her wheelbarrow while Sannil held me still with his hand on my shoulder.

  “Come on, Princess,” Kalli told Lisanda. “Walk with me.”

  Lisanda showed me a nervous look.

  “Go ahead,” I said, trying to ease her worry with a smile.

  When they were too far to hear us, my father and I slowly started after them.

  “I wanted to talk in private,” he told me.

  When I turned to meet his eyes, I was pleasantly surprised to find the smile I’d been missing. I felt relief swell into my lungs with my next breath.

  “Kalli and I’ve been talking,” he continued. “While I can’t say I would’ve advised you to kidnap a Takary, I’m not going to scold you for it, either. I know you would do anything for the cure to your darkness, and Kalli and I don’t blame you for that, nor do we blame you for what happened at the farm. So, you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

  I gave a subtle smile to show my thanks while really I was glowing. It’s amazing how approval from the right person at the right time can set your upside-down heart back upright. I could feel some of the hatred for myself withering away.

  “And Kalli and I can’t let you finish this on your own,” Sannil continued.

  “I was hoping you could stay with Lisanda while I go back into town to set up the trade,” I told him.

  He shook his head. “After this is over I’m going to move, but I have some arrangements to make in the city first, some people to meet.”

  “Wait.” I could feel my heart starting to flip again. “You’re not suggesting that you tell the King’s men about Lisanda to try to set up a meeting?”

  “I’m going into the city anyway, no matter what. You and I can discuss a time and date for the trade. We’ll write it on a note, and then I’ll give it to a guard and leave before he even reads it. I’ll make sure to finish everything I need to do in the city first.”

  “As soon as he reads it he’ll chase after you!”

  “I’ll take the horse and give the note to a guard on foot so he can’t catch up.” My father sat down the wheelbarrow. “In fact, we should switch so the horse can get to know me. What’s his name?” Sannil left the wheelbarrow to pet the animal’s neck.

  “I haven’t named him yet.” I didn’t budge. “Father, if they stop you they’ll torture the information out of you. It’s better if you stay with Lisanda and let me go. I can speak to whoever you need to find in the city.”

  My father didn’t take his eyes off the horse. “You didn’t name him?”

  “I didn’t think I’d be keeping him. Enough about the horse, will you stay?”

  “Am I that old and frail that my children worry about me more than themselves now?”

  “It’s not that.”

  “You forget that your old man is the one who taught you magic in the first place?”

  My eyes fell off him. “No. Of course I remember, but—”

  “Besides,” Sannil interrupted, “I need to go to the city myself. There are tasks there that you cannot do for me.”

  “The blacksmith?”

  “Yes, my friend Drent is one of several people I need to meet with. There are others…old acquaintances you don’t know.”

  I gave him one last pleading look. “If you must go into the city, fine, but we can figure something else out to set up the trade of Lisanda for the cure. I can wait for you to come back and then go myself to deliver the note.”

  “I’m going to stay the night in the city,” Sannil said. “There’s too much to do there and not enough time in the day.”

  “So, I can go once you return.” I realized I’d have to work something out about the promise I’d made to let Lisanda go after three days, but I could figure that out later.

  Sannil shook his head and held out his hand for the reins to the horse. “I don’t want our family in these woods longer than we need to be, especially with Exo out there somewhere. With this wagon and the wheelbarrows, we’re not hard to track. You’ll stay behind with Kalli. Clean up our trails as best you can and stay vigilant while you wait for me to return. I’ll be leaving as soon as we find a place for our camp so I know where to return.”

  I took a long breath to think, still reluctant to hand the horse over.

  “I’m demanding to go,” Sannil said. “And last I checked, age still trumps magic ability.”

  I nodded and traded the horse for the wheelbarrow.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I know you probably haven’t thought about what you’re going to do after this is over, but I have.”

  My father was right, as usual. I’d partially considered fleeing Goldram but not much besides that. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Our farm is right beside a busy path leading to and from The Nest, and while the convenience has been nice when we need something from the city, it hasn’t been worth the trouble. I’ve wanted to move for years now, ever since you turned three, actually.” His tone was prodding, waiting for me to ask.

  It felt like Sannil was about to reveal a long-kept secret, which was unnerving as I never knew my father to keep anything from me. Traydens don’t keep secrets from each other, Kalli always said.

  “Why when I was three?”

  “Because that’s when I decided you were my child.” His words w
ere hinting at an untold side of the story of my childhood.

  I thought I knew everything Sannil did about my birth parents. I was one year old when they’d knocked on Sannil’s door and asked if they could purchase some food. My birth parents were famished. It was clear that I was the only one who’d eaten.

  Sannil had claimed many times over the years that he’d told me every detail he could remember about that night.

  Although Sannil had never met this couple before, he decided to trust them enough to let them inside where he fed them and offered them a place to sleep. Kalli was three, and apparently we got along as well as two toddlers could, playing and giggling together while Sannil spoke with my birth parents.

  They clearly were exhausted, but they still made an obvious effort to participate in polite conversation, complimenting Sannil’s generosity, and of course they couldn’t stop gushing about how cute Kalli was, especially watching her play with me.

  But whenever Sannil asked about why they were leaving the city or where they were going, they gave the simplest answers they could, quickly changing the subject. It was clear to Sannil that they were lying, but he didn’t want to pry.

  During the night, my birth parents left the farm, leaving me there with a note. Sannil waited until I was eight to tell me this, showing me the note as well. Until then, I’d thought Sannil was my birth father, and this information hardly changed anything.

  The more I thought about it over the years, the more I realized some kids probably would’ve read that note until they’d memorized every word. Some kids would’ve studied it until they’d come up with interpretations clearly not meant to be found. Then they would’ve dwelled on whether their mind was playing tricks on them or if they’d actually stumbled upon a secret.

  Some kids would’ve wanted to venture out and find their true parents. Questions about why they’d been abandoned would repeat in their mind, creating a torment that only discovered answers could end.

  But that wasn’t me. I’d read the note, shrugged, and handed it back to Sannil. He’d told me to keep it, and I did, reading it a few more times in the years since then, but that was it.

  The note was still with me, in my bag this moment, even. But it didn’t mean anything. Sannil was my father. Kalli was my sister. The strange people who’d brought me to the farm and left me there could’ve been fugitives, or the king and queen of another territory, or even spies sent all the way from Kyrro across the Starving Ocean, but I didn’t care.

  The only thing that made me curious was whether either of them suffered from a darkness like I did, but the answer to that wouldn’t necessarily help me, and there’s no way I could figure that out, so I told myself there was no point wondering about it.

  “You didn’t consider me your child before I was three?” I asked, slightly offended.

  “Of course I did.” My father showed an apologetic smile. “The moment I found out your birth parents left you with me was the moment I started taking care of you as if you were my own. But imagine my position. What if they were to return? I would’ve been forced to give you back to them. There are no words to describe my conflicting emotions. I was livid they would do that. They took all the control with them when they left. I couldn’t leave you to starve, and I couldn’t take you someplace else, either. I had to take care of you.”

  Sannil shook his head in anger as he continued. “But was I supposed to not love you? Was I supposed to prepare for your birth parents to return and take you back? When would that happen? I grew sick of all the questions and ended up making a decision. I gave them two years. I thought that was extremely fair. If they came to get you after that, I would fight to keep you.”

  “But they never came back, right?”

  “Thankfully, but some nights I still worry, not just about them, but about someone else coming to get you. You remember the note? Your birth parents were involved in something dangerous.”

  I knew he was right, but being years since I’d read it, I’d forgotten the specifics. I set down my bag to dig around for it, pulling it out for a read:

  Sannil Trayden,

  As you must’ve now realized, we’ve left. We hope to return as soon as we can to retrieve Jek. Words cannot express how sorry we are to put you in this position.

  We are on the run, and Jek is not safe with us for now. What we’re running from is best left unsaid for your safety. If men come looking for us, don’t lie to them or they may know. Tell them the truth, but don’t tell them Jek belongs to us or they’ll take him. Say he’s your child if you must. We know you’ll take good care of him until we return. You’re a good man.

  Sannil read over my shoulder. When I finished, he sighed and said, “They were so young when they came…right around your age. Did I tell you that?”

  “My age?” What a strange thought. I felt the air rush out of me like I’d been hit in the stomach.

  Sannil was nodding. “About seventeen to nineteen, I figured when I met them. Like you and Kalli. Though, your father was the one who was older.”

  My shock passed. Their ages didn’t change anything. They were still no one I needed to know about. It was just…I’d expected them to be older.

  My age? I tried, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe this did change something. But what? Did it mean their mistakes should be forgiven? Do young parents deserve more leniency than older parents? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that Sannil had brought up the past for a point, and I was tired of hearing about it. My birth parents never came back, and I was glad for it.

  “Why would you bring this up now?” I asked my father as respectfully as I could for such an accusatory question.

  “After those two years…those two torturous years when every knock at the door could mean losing you, I decided it was enough. I wanted to move us somewhere no one could find us unless we wanted them to, but I never had a way to transport the animals, nor did I have enough money. Sometimes when visitors knock at strange hours, it still stirs my old fear, even though you’re old enough now to make your own decisions about where to live. I don’t know why I still panic. An old habit, I suppose.”

  Listening to the raw love of my father gave me an uneasy feeling. I felt appreciated but perhaps too much, like I was responsible for his happiness. I didn’t want that. I hadn’t wanted to go to prison for my own sake, but now I realized Sannil would be miserable as well. The last thing I wanted was my poor decisions affecting my family as much as they affected me.

  I remained quiet to let my father finish.

  “So, I let you work in the city. It was the best way for us to earn money and for you to learn all you could about finding a cure to your darkness. Everyone knows all the best chemists are in The Nest, with the best of the best working in the palace. But after this is done, I don’t see you returning to the city.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I don’t think the King would want me in the city, let alone Goldram if he lets me live.”

  “Jek, don’t speak like that.” Sannil shook his head at me. “But you’re right about the unlikeliness of being allowed in the city. That’s why I need to have all the arrangements for our new home set up before this is over. I already have Kalli’s opinion about this. She’ll be living with me until she finds a husband.” Sannil leaned over to whisper with a sly grin. “Or until I find someone she finds suitable. And you should stay with us until things settle down with the Takary family. We’ll stay carefully hidden from the King’s men. Then you can move on to your next adventure, whatever and whenever that may be. Is that a plan?”

  Sometimes I was jealous of how both Sannil and Kalli could come up with such specific plans for the future. When Kalli turned fourteen, the legal age of adulthood, she and Sannil spent many dinners planning. They discussed how her tasks on the farm would be changing, what they would do for her to meet men, her goals, everything.

  I didn’t have the same experience when I turned fourteen. Sannil and Kalli had all sorts of ideas, most having to do with h
ow I would use my magic for money. But I couldn’t even plan for the upcoming week, let alone the next few years.

  I was glad the rest of my family wasn’t like me. Otherwise, we would’ve lost the farm years ago.

  “It’s a plan,” I agreed.

  I tried to ignore the bitter feeling I had, thinking of the possibility of never seeing Lisanda again. It was a thought I knew I shouldn’t be having, but was there truly a way to stop it? I buried it as deep as I could, hoping it would never resurface.

  “Wonderful. Now, let’s hurry to catch up before Kalli and Lisanda kill each other.” Sannil smiled to show he was joking, but there was a subtle seriousness to his tone.

  Although they were out of earshot, it was clear they’d been arguing while we were speaking. There’d been a lot of folded arms, pointing, and petulant whipping of heads to and away from each other.

  “One last thing,” I told Sannil as we hurried forward. “If you’re not back by tomorrow night, I’m coming to look for you.”

  He stopped, his mouth starting to form words. But then he closed it, sighing with defeat as he must’ve seen the stubbornness in my eyes.

  “Fine,” he said. “And Jek, try to keep a safe distance from Lisanda. Understand?”

  The look he gave me said far more than his words. I felt like I was being scolded.

  “I don’t like her,” I muttered to the ground.

  “Your eyes tell a different story.”

  Could it be there really was something about the way I looked at Lisanda? Twice she’d claimed I was falling in love with her after a simple glance.

  Well, maybe they were closer to stares.

  Kalli seemed to notice something and now Sannil. I needed to pay more attention to what my face was doing so I could stop it.

  “It’s only because she’s pretty,” I claimed, knowing no one could argue with that.

  That seemed to convince him. My father nodded slowly, his hand unconsciously rubbing his cheek as his eyes wandered to some distant memory.

  “Those are the dangerous ones,” he finally whispered.