Natural Magic: A Progression Fantasy Saga (The Last Magus Book 1)

by DB King

  Uriel held up a finger. “With one condition,” the Archmage said.

  Maimonides pulled up short, then gave Alec a can you believe this? look with his eyes. “Yes, Urry?”

  “You may take him to the House of Doors,” Uriel Diamondspear pronounced. “But you and he may only walk through the portals on the first level. Nothing beyond that.”

  Maimonides looked pained, but nodded as if he’d expected this all along. “Of course,” the gnome said, bowing so low that his short stature appeared even shorter. “Only to the first floor. Nothing more than that. Not until the boy is ready, at least.”

  “Maimonides,” Uriel said warningly. “I am quite serious about this.”

  The gnome straightened up. It was difficult for such a tiny man to look fierce, but as he drew himself up to his full height, Alec got the impression of a much taller, more powerful man lurking in his shadow. Maimonides may have been small, but suddenly the grandiose titles Eleira had heaped on the mage began to make sense.

  “As am I, Uriel,” Maimonides said, his tone offended. “Young Alec will need to be challenged if he’s to realize his full potential. You can trust me not to allow him to go too far afield before he is able to. And if he does so, I’ll be there to guide him back onto the path.”

  Uriel paused, then nodded. “Very good,” the Archmage said. He took a long, thoughtful sip from his drink and turned to face Eleira. “You may receive a surprise visit from my pupil later, as well. Assuming she and I are able to get through this introductory material quickly, of course.”

  In a moment, a look like Alec had never seen spread across the elf girl’s face. She looked as if she’d do just about anything to be granted entry into the House of Doors—like she couldn’t wait to be done with her more formal, boring lessons. Alec had very little doubt that the elf would devote herself to Uriel’s lessons with more vigor than any pupil the old man had ever had before.

  “Absolutely,” Eleira said, reaching down toward the floor. She’d brought a leather satchel along with her to the dining hall, and just as Alec had assumed, it contained the Leafwalker Grimoire. “In fact, I brought my grimoire with me today, in case you wanted to get started.”

  As Uriel and Eleira bent to their lessons, Maimonides waved Alec away with a chuckle. “She’s as industrious as she is beautiful,” the gnome said as they made their way out of the hall. “With that fervor, she’ll be joining us in the House of Doors in no time.”

  “Master Maimonides, she’s just a student,” Alec chided. He found the gnome’s manner of speaking to those younger than himself somewhat disconcerting, no matter how Uriel excused it as one of the mage’s peculiarities. “You shouldn’t take such liberties with the people you’re supposed to be instructing!”

  It was the first—and as it would turn out, the only—time he’d ever seen Maimonides speechless. The gnome paused at the door to the dining hall, his spectacles half-raised to his wide, almond-colored eyes.

  His shock gave way to irritation—then to something deeper that made ice form in Alec’s stomach. He realized abruptly that all of Maimonides’s jokes before now had been a pose, a way of joking with the world—but at that moment, the Shadebringer was truly offended.

  “Alec,” Maimonides said in a low tone. Although Alec had to look down to meet the gnome’s eyes, he had the momentary impression he was staring up at a giant. “If you truly believe I would ever lay a finger on that elf girl, then maybe the monks at that Temple did manage to beat every ounce of sense out of you. And for the last time—you do not call me ‘Master’. Or any man! Do you understand me?”

  Panic flowed in Alec’s veins. “Yes, M...Maimonides,” Alec said, amazed at the change in the gnome.

  Like the passing of a summer storm, the anger fell away from Maimonides’s face. “Good,” the gnome said, fastening his spectacles to his broad face. “Let’s get moving, then. It’s a nice day for the climb, and I’m just itching to see what surprises the Hall of Doors has in store for us.”

  Alec was as well. Excitement thrummed through him at the prospect. But even if he learned nothing from his lessons this morning, the day had provided one surprise already.

  Chapter 16

  “Hell of a climb, isn’t it?”

  Alec and Maimonides stood near the edge of the Northmund Estate, on a hill overlooking the southern side of the Manor. The cloudy morning had broken, though this high above the valley a chilly wind blew over the cliffs and thrashed Alec’s Bloodcloak against his body. The two of them waited next to the floating island for what had felt like an hour. Alec stared up at the massive chain connecting the Estate proper to the enchanted isle containing the House of Doors.

  What looked like a small box traveled down the length of the chain, suspended by wires. It swung back and forth dangerously in the wind, so much so that Alec’s blood went cold at the sight. I knew getting up to a floating island would be difficult, he thought, watching their conveyance arrive. But this is terrifying.

  “Don’t worry,” Maimonides said, as if he could hear Alec’s thoughts. Maybe he could—the Shadebringer certainly hinted at powers far beyond the abilities of normal men. “Once there’s some weight in the box, it shakes around a great deal less. Part of why Urry insists you eat a nice big breakfast before you go up, no?”

  “You call him Urry,” Alec said, tearing his eyes away from the sight. “I’m surprised the Archmage lets you be on such familiar terms with him. Even if you are a guest in his home.”

  A wry look tugged at the corner of Maimonides’s mouth. “You should try it sometime,” he said, with the air of someone who’d placed a bet on what would happen should Alec give it a shot. “There’s nothing the great Uriel Diamondspear enjoys more than a good joke, as you’ll eventually learn.” He adjusted his spectacles. “Ah, I believe our chariot awaits…”

  The transport to the House of Doors frightened Alec even more close up. Rust pitted the bars around the flat, metallic floor, a testament to the rain and wind at such a high elevation. The whole thing squeaked like an entire grain silo’s worth of rats as Maimonides and Alec climbed inside, the latter nearly tripping and losing his feet as the door slammed closed behind the pair.

  Once they were firmly inside—or as firmly as anyone could be in such a contraption—Maimonides pulled a rope hanging from the ceiling and the box began to rise. A system of levers and pulleys carried up the length of the chain, creaking and trembling the whole way.

  “What sort of madman would build a thing like this?” Alec wondered.

  Maimonides laughed. “Why, I did, of course,” the gnome said, grinning from ear-to-ear. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

  Alec kept his opinions to himself for the next few minutes. Although the box dropped precipitously each time the pulley switched to the next link of chain, Maimonides had been right—it truly did sway less with two people in the box. He even managed to enjoy the view a bit, as it afforded an enviable view of the surrounding landscape. Archmage Diamondspear had truly chosen a beautiful country to settle in, with rolling emerald hills and rich fields full of corn and wheat.

  “Are you feeling recovered enough for some explanations?” the gnome asked. “Or should I wait for us to reach the island proper?”

  It was kind of him to ask. “I think I’m alright now,” Alec said, relinquishing his hold on the bars. To his surprise, his footing felt sure underneath him. Perhaps his time on Archmage Diamondspear’s airship had improved his sense of balance.

  “Good,” Maimonides said. “Now, just like Urry said, we’ll only be visiting the first floor of the House of Doors today. If you see any other doors within the House that seem like they just cry out to be opened, begging you like a young maiden to step across their threshold—you tell me immediately, alright? Even if you think it a flight of fancy or some strange notion that’s taken hold of you. Such things are known to happen to newcomers to the House of Doors, and believe me when I tell you those tales rarely have happy endings.”

>   “I understand,” Alec assured the gnome. “The doors... are they alive, then?”

  Maimonides took the question seriously. He pursed his lips in thought, running a thumb along the edge of his goatee, then shrugged. “Not alive in the sense that you or I are alive,” the Arcane Scientist admitted. “But they can act with a purpose, at times. Although Urry’s influence keeps them in line most of the time.”

  Alec wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to Maimonides calling one of the most powerful mages in the world Urry. “I won’t go in any doors you don’t specifically tell me to enter,” he agreed. That would keep things simple, at least.

  “Excellent. Now, you will be in danger once we step through the first door. And all subsequent doors, now that I think of it. But you will be in good hands, young man, I assure you.”

  Alec forced out a smile. “More danger than I’m in now?” he asked, glancing over the side of the rickety rustbucket.

  He’d meant the remark as a joke. Maimonides took it seriously. “Considerably more,” the gnome said with a smile. “I saw you looking all relieved when Urry told Eleira her lessons involved memorizing old books instead of walking through magic doors. Well, you might find yourself envying her pretty soon, instead of the other way around.”

  A chilly wind blew across the box as they neared the top of the chain. Alec hoped there was some automatic system that would allow them to stop at the top—he’d hate to have to jump onto the floating island.

  “Unlike your cute co-ed,” Maimonides lectured, “the only way for you to gain experience with your abilities is to use them. Which means we have to get you into some fights. Controlled fights, mind—not too far from the normal world, with challenges you can overcome. There’s no other way for you to learn spells and unlock the limits of your true abilities.”

  Just then, the box crested the rim of the island. To Alec’s relief, the pulley system above their heads ground to a screeching halt, leaving the box swaying gently back and forth along the edge of the enchanted isle. A brick path led to the center of the island, where the round dome of the House of Doors lay waiting like a lecture hall.

  “Go on, hop out,” Maimonides said, holding onto the rope hanging from the ceiling of the box. “I’ll send it back down once we’re out, in case Urry and the elf girl make it up here today. From the intensity of the look she gave that grimoire of hers, I’d lay even odds on them making it to the House before we finish our first lesson—”

  “Why?” Alec asked, startling the gnome out of his reverie. “Why do I have to risk my life to gain power, when Eleira can learn it in a classroom? Why can’t we take our lessons together?”

  It wasn’t that Alec was afraid. The thought of entering the House of Doors filled him with the same dizzy sense of excitement he’d felt upon seeing it for the very first time. And a floating island! To set foot on a real floating island was the kind of stuff dreams were made of. It meant he was a mage for sure.

  It was only…

  He thought about defending Marcus from the hag. About summoning a unicorn made of water to trample bandits and keep the boys from harm. About the way the Shield Ring pulsed on his finger. The way the Bloodcloak called out to him, begging to be used. The way the Diamondspear felt in his hands, singing with triumph as he slashed through the jugular of a brigand.

  It seemed that the only way he gained more power was in blood, fire, and death. How much more carnage would be necessary to mold him into the kind of mage Uriel Diamondspear would be proud of?

  He saw Maimonides take all this in with a glance. The gnome’s face filled with sympathy.

  “You poor boy,” the gnome said, gesturing at the floating island. “I wish you had been born in a different era, Alec. You were made for other times than these. Times of peace.”

  Alec shook his head. “If I was made for peace, that hag would have eaten Marcus. Those bandits would have killed Thomas and Mortimer.” That plant wouldn’t have been turned to stone. “Maimonides, I am most definitely not made for peace.”

  The gnome nodded ruefully. “Aye, lad. The hourglass has been turned.”

  Alec didn’t understand, and said so.

  His confusion made Maimonides laugh, but there was no humor in it. “The world is changing,” he explained, clutching his spectacles to keep them from falling from his face. They’d have quite a long fall from this high up. “If we are to face the change, we’ll need more defenders than just men like Urry and I. We need someone like you, Alec—someone unbound by the strictures that have kept men from growing in the art of magic for generations. If only the Archon…”

  The gnome’s mouth snapped shut. Alec knew he shouldn’t pry, but he couldn’t help himself. Maimonides had just mentioned the Archon!

  “If only the Archon what?” he asked.

  Maimonides shook his head. “I’ve said too much already,” the gnome replied, his normal joking humor gone entirely. “It’s up to Uriel how much you’re told, young man. I have no say in the matter—and I’ve been quite unsuccessful at changing Urry’s mind.” Some of his smile rose back to his face. “I’ve never been good at that, to tell you the truth.”

  Fair enough. Alec would be told what he needed to know, when he needed to know it. In truth, he’d never expected anything different from Uriel Diamondspear. He just wished it didn’t remind him so much of how the monks of the Archon Temple liked to work.

  “Very well,” Alec said. Then, before Maimonides could stop him, he took the jump from the box to the floating island in a single mad leap. The gnome’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as Alec twisted in mid-air, losing his balance. Then the cold, faintly wet grass was against his shoulder, and he lay on a floating island for the first time.

  “Well, that’s one way to do it,” Maimonides said, shaking his head. The gnome kicked a compartment next to the exit door and a short flight of steps emerged from the side of the box, like the gangplank on a ship. Alec kicked himself for not waiting—yet at the same time, the jump had thrilled him. Maybe he wasn’t the rules-follower he’d always assumed himself to be.

  Maimonides made his way down the stairs, pulling a lever as his feet hit the grass. The stairs retracted and the box, now swaying much more because it was empty, began its long journey back down to Northmund Manor at the bottom of the chain. Alec watched it go, a lurching sensation in his chest matching the motion of the rope-and-metal contraption.

  Now there was no turning back.

  The House of Doors was somehow both more open and more claustrophobic than Alec expected. A short walk down the brick path brought the two of them to the entrance of the cupola, where the grass ended as sharply and suddenly as if it had been trimmed only moments before. The main wall of the House of Doors formed a rough circle around the center of the island, with large, glassless windows carved into the stone at regular intervals. But the domed ceiling let in far less light than it should, giving the interior a dusky, cramped appearance.

  The whole place set Alec’s teeth on edge. As he entered through the front door—the only door in the whole structure that didn’t look like a door, being little more than a deep slash in the stone—memories of the Crypt flooded his mind with fear. He fought down the panic within him, commanding his heart to slow.

  “As you can see,” Maimonides said, gesturing upward, “it’s a veritable hotel in here.” He indicated the long balconies stretching around the interior of the dome, carved from wrought iron and running the entire length of the House of Doors. Each floor had a short flight of stairs allowing access to the floor above or beneath, with the exception of the first and the top floor. Alec counted eight as his gaze traveled upward to the great domed ceiling.

  True to its name, the building was full of doors. Alec soon lost count as he tried to reckon just how many he stared at. On the first floor alone, at least a dozen different styles of door lay before him, regularly spaced out along the granite floor. Grass grew through cracks in the stone.

  “These really go places?”
Alec asked, cocking his head to the side. He studied the door nearest himself and Maimonides—an ornate wooden door with a heavy brass knocker. It looked like the entrance to the home of a village artisan, or a blacksmith who’d managed to make a name for himself. “They look like they just open right onto the stone.”

  “Ah, but appearances can be deceiving,” Maimonides explained. “Each of these doors will take you places—though not necessarily places you want to go. Today we’ll only be entering the doors on the first floor. If Urry has his way, we’ll probably keep you down here for a good length of time while you get used to things.”

  Alec studied the other doors around him as the gnome spoke. None of the ones on the first floor looked too strange. One looked almost exactly like his bedroom door at the Archon Temple, while another was little more than a curtain of multicolored beads over a rectangle of darkness. His gaze traveled upward, scrutinizing the different levels of the House of Doors. The higher floors were more difficult to make out, though he was certain Maimonides or Uriel would light the place up with a spell whenever he needed to actually navigate the upper levels. None of the portals piqued his curiosity more than the others…

  Until he reached the uppermost level. One door stood out among the rest, like a black sheep in a field of white. A narrow vertical slash, almost too slender for a full-grown man to pass through, stretched from the bottom of the topmost balcony to the rim of the domed ceiling. The door was carved from a solid sheet of glass, curved at the edges to refract the light from the rest of the House of Doors against its surface. Alec looked into the glass and saw a half-dozen distorted images of his own face, peering down at him like monsters.

  He felt a distinct tugging sensation in the back of his brain. Remembering Maimonides’s warning, he pointed at the door. “That one’s calling to me,” he whispered, his hand trembling.

  Maimonides followed the finger. For just a moment, Alec thought he saw the gnome shudder at the realization of which door he’d indicated.