The Night Mage

by April Swanson

  I settled for a pair of navy trousers and a cream shirt. I rolled up the sleeves, left the top three buttons undone, and opted out of a waistcoat. I tucked the trousers into my boots. Everything was a bit baggy, but wearable.

  “Well?” I asked Cal.

  “Acceptable. Can I finish my bath in peace now?”

  I leaned over the bath and ran a finger along the chain.

  “Don’t pull!” she cried. “There’s bugger all else to do here except have a bath.”

  “You could help me and Faol?”

  “No, thank you.” She stuck her tongue out in disgust; it was purple and covered in tiny spikes. “I’ll leave that to you two.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Just go upstairs, will you? You’re getting in my hair.”

  “But, you don’t have any—”

  “Just go!”

  I rattled the chain against the tub and stomped away. Really, the manners in this castle were atrocious.

  When I returned to the kitchen, I found Faol sitting at the table. He looked at me and said, “You’re wearing my clothes.”

  “Yes. You said it was okay.”

  “I don’t think I did.”

  “I wouldn’t need to borrow anything if you dusted under your bed every once in a while.”

  He scowled; his mood had swung once again. “Is there dust all over my sheets?”

  “Yes, I think there will be.” I took the chair across from him and clasped my hands on the table. “You could have warned me about Cal. I got quite the fright.”

  “I know – I heard. You’ve done nothing but scream since you got here.”

  “And you’ve done nothing but strop. I’m the one who should be stroppy; I’ve been through quite an ordeal. On my birthday, too.”

  “It’s not your birthday anymore,” he pointed out.

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “I don’t like birthdays,” he said.

  “You don’t look that old.” I checked his face for wrinkles; found none. Mind you, he might have had a head of grey under all that green. “You don’t look older than me.” I said. “Actually, how old are you?”

  “What does that matter?”

  I shrugged. “If we’re going to be staying together in this castle, I should know basic facts about you. Like your age, your favourite food, your favourite colour.”

  “I don’t have any of those things. And we’re not going to be staying together.” His scowl deepened; the loneliness in his eyes was gone, replaced with bitter resentment – and a touch of madness. “I’m getting you out of here today. Moranda won’t believe it when she sees it. She should come here herself instead of sending some lackey.”

  I pushed back from the table in frustration. “Good, get me out of here now, because you are the most childish, impossible man I’ve ever met!” I folded my arms and tapped my boot on the floor, calling his bluff. “Come on then, let’s get this over and done with.”

  “I’d be delighted. Follow me, cruel lady of the wood.”

  My heartbeat rose in panic, but I kept up the act. “I’ll follow you all the way home, out of this magic castle and back to my little village where it’s safe and—”

  He stopped, and looked at me, and I looked at him. The hard lines fell from his face, and there – he looked at me like I was the greatest gift anyone could give him: the gift of human company. Hope tugged my mouth into a tentative smile.

  But then his face changed again, and my hope disappeared. He raised a finger and said, “Nice try, but Moranda will not fool me. You’ll be out of here by nightfall. Or I’ll throw you to the Night Mage myself.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Faol took me down to the base of the turret, and then through a mind-boggling series of hallways and stairways that left me utterly lost. Windows appeared in strange places, and I saw more of the huge jewelled mirrors. I didn’t ask why he had so many; I didn’t want to talk to him.

  He was going to send me home.

  I wasn’t surprised. Who would want me around?

  Faol moved quickly. I dragged my feet, hoping to lose him in the maze of the castle. There were so many rooms still to explore. I wondered what Mother and Father made of the message. Would they send a band through the wood to come and rescue me? I doubted it.

  “In here,” said Faol.

  I stepped inside an indoor garden. But it wasn’t like the garden we had at home, the tiny patch of soil where we grew potatoes and carrots. This was a garden of someone with bags of gold at their disposal – or magic in their blood.

  All the walls were made of glass, as was the ceiling. Willows swept the floor, and flowering vines draped down so low I had to push them aside.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  “My garden.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  My eyes didn’t know what to feast on first. There were snowdrops and bluebells, blood-red roses and purple tulips, and other flowers I could not name. All the colours were cool-toned – no oranges or yellows or tomato-reds. Flashes of silver glinted between the flowers.

  “This is where I leave you,” he said. “You can keep the clothes. I’ll have the others washed and sent to you.”

  I tried to respond, but found my throat too tight to speak.

  “Despite your wicked intentions,” he added, “it was nice to meet you, Aideen of the wood.” He touched my hair; I startled. “This,” he said, pulling out a fallen petal. He held it in his hand, gently between his thumb and forefinger.

  “That happened in the wood.”

  I heard the tinkling of bells. I didn’t search for the sound, but watched Faol instead. I realised, with a sinking heart, that he truly intended to send me away.

  “I heard the bells right before I saw you.” At the start of my adventure, which is already coming to its close.

  Faol acted like he couldn’t hear me. He fixated on the blue petal between his fingers, twirling it slowly. The bells shimmered around us. Delicate flakes of snow fell from above. I glanced up, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. I closed my eyes and let the flakes fall on my face. They did not feel like ordinary snowflakes; they tingled when they seeped into my skin, like little kisses. In the village between the hills, the snow turned to brown after everyone had muddied their way through it. The flakes fell in fierce blizzards, attacking flesh like a cast of hawks.

  The bells grew louder. This time I wanted to run far away, to never be caught. If I ever again heard the delicate song of silver bells, I’d be flooded with sadness.

  “Please,” I whispered, opening my eyes. “Can’t I stay a little longer? Faol?” I reached for his hand, the one holding the petal. “Stop. Stop the bells, please.” But none of it stopped – the snow, the bells, the twirling petal. “Don’t send me back to the wood. I beg you, please don’t. I’ll be no trouble, I promise.” I shook away a tear. “I’ll help you defeat the Night Mage. I’ll clean, I’ll cook you breakfast…” I squeezed his hand tighter. “Faol. Are you even listening? I’m begging you. I can’t bear to go back. All of it is so dull, and I shouldn’t expect anything else because I’m dull too, but—”

  “You’re not dull,” he said suddenly, his voice warm and rich against the cold tinkle of bells. At last he took his eyes from the petal and looked at me. There was pain there too, a reflection of my own.

  Emotion tore at my own voice, making it difficult to speak. “I swear… Moranda, she’s nothing to do with me. How— How can I prove it? Let me stay, Faol. Just for a little while.” I squeezed his hand. “Please.”

  He looked down, and let the petal drift to the ground. “I couldn’t anyway. Let you go. I can’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t do it. I’m not good enough.”

  I’m staying? My heart flooded with relief.

  “Well,” I said, my voice stabilising, “I thi
nk you’re quite good. You saved me from the Night Mage.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not good. I’m hopeless.”

  “I disagree.”

  “I’ll never be free. And neither will you.”

  I glanced around at the flowers and the falling snowflakes and the man who’d created it all. “I can think of worse places.”

  “You don’t know this castle like I do.”

  “Faol.” I took his other hand and gave both a little swing. “Come on now. I believe in you. Your master wouldn’t have locked you up with the Night Mage unless she knew you could defeat it. Why would she waste years of her life training a hopeless case? And just because you haven’t found the answer yet, doesn’t mean it’s not there to be found. Maybe all you need is a fresh pair of eyes.”

  He said nothing, but stepped forward, released my hands, and wrapped his arms around me.

  “Oh,” I said, peering over his shoulder.

  His head bowed forward, resting against my own. His hair was soft against my cheek and neck. He squeezed me hard, pressing me against his chest. My arms hung limp at my sides. I could smell him again, the same scent from his bedsheets. It was freshly-cut grass, sweet apple crumble, the first rains of spring.

  I’m not going home, I thought, and began to lift my hands so I could hold him too, but he released his arms and stepped back.

  “Thank you,” he said without looking at me.

  “That’s quite alright.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to call on Moranda. I want to believe you, but won’t until I have proof.”

  “You do what you must,” I replied, hiding my hurt. “I’d like to meet Moranda, having heard so much about her.”

  He closed his eyes, and the bells fell silent. The snowflakes dissolved.

  It was such a pretty garden.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I was staying with Faol, in an enchanted castle.

  Yes, the situation was not permanent, and yes, Faol was difficult, and yes, there was a terrible monster running around at night; but in spite of all of that, I decided my thirty-first year was shaping up to be my best ever.

  “How do you speak to Moranda?” I asked, now happily trailing Faol as we zig-zagged through the impossible innards of the castle.

  “With difficulty. She doesn’t like to be pestered. She has more pressing matters to deal with than lowly students like me.”

  “How many students does she have?”

  “Five,” he replied. “And I am the oldest of them all.”

  “You’re a late bloomer.”

  His hair seemed to ripple with anger – or perhaps there was a stray breeze. Regardless, I grinned at his back.

  “I could lock you in a dungeon,” he warned.

  “You could, but you won’t. You’re far too hospitable.”

  He snorted. I wished I could see his face, but he walked a step too quick for me to keep up.

  Something black scuttled along the edge of the wall.

  Faol jumped and cursed at my scream. “What is it now?”

  “There was a rat!”

  Faol whipped around. “Rat? Cal was supposed to take care of— Wait, that’s not a rat.” He tutted and knelt to the floor, holding out his hand. The black thing streaked past my boot and slithered onto Faol’s palm.

  I shuddered. “What is it?”

  “A lizard. You’ve never seen a lizard before?”

  “No. Is it safe?”

  “It’s a she, and her name is…” Faol coughed. “Her name is Scaly.” The lizard scuttled up his arm and curled around his neck.

  “Where did she come from?” I asked.

  “Enough questions. I’m not going to forget about Moranda.”

  “I never doubted you would,” I muttered.

  We entered a corridor that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Iron sconces illuminated the huge cracks in the stone walls.

  “The castle didn’t look this big from the outside,” I commented.

  “Come on, Aideen. I thought you were brighter than that.”

  “I don’t know what gave you that idea.”

  Scaly peeked around at me with two silver eyes. She winked.

  “Your lizard is winking at me.”

  Faol turned his head to the side, letting me see a little of his face. He was smiling. “Then we must be careful,” he said.

  I had no idea what he meant. I wished Winnie were here to interpret it all. She was a Woman of the World.

  We walked on and on down that corridor. My feet grew weary in my boots – I’d done a lot of walking the last two days, and usually I walked from home to shop with the occasional stroll squeezed into the evenings.

  “Is it much farther?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer. The answer appeared instead. I caught the sparkle of a golden arch, peppered with jewels. I saw Faol in the reflection. His face was stern.

  “You use the mirrors to talk to Moranda?” I asked.

  “Only some.”

  As we approached the mirror, the hallway expanded, the walls pushing out at the sides, until we were no longer in a hallway but a large square room. Behind me, another wall appeared, complete with a door. The long hall we’d walked through was nowhere to be seen.

  “Yes?” said Faol.

  “Nothing.”

  Faol stood in front of the mirror. “Stand off to the side until I call you. Don’t speak until I say you can.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Here. Hold her.” Faol extracted Scaly from the back of his neck and placed the lizard in my cupped palms. I tried not to squirm. “Be careful. She’s precious to me.”

  “I will be.”

  Scaly blinked. Her feet were sticky on my skin.

  “We’ll get out of Master Faol’s way,” I whispered. “Wouldn’t want to disturb him while he’s being examined by his teacher.”

  I thought I saw the lizard smile.

  Faol took centre stage in the room while I waited in the wings with Scaly in my hands. Faol muttered a few words, his head bowed. A gust of wind whipped through the room, flying through Faol’s hair. The jewels in the mirror brightened; the gold began to shimmer. And then a bright light burst from the glass, casting Faol in a pool of sunshine.

  “Master,” he said.

  “Faol,” said the mirror. I couldn’t see the image in the glass, and dared not move to get a better look.

  “Have you defeated the Mage?” Moranda spoke in a low, lazy voice, like she was used to everyone giving her a chance to speak.

  “I have not.”

  “So why have you disturbed me, Faol?”

  “I want to know why you’ve interrupted me.”

  “Interrupted you? Speak plainly, boy.”

  Faol looked at me and cocked his head. He took a step to the side, leaving a space in the pool of light. Scaly ran up my arm and nuzzled into my neck. I joined Faol, and looked into the mirror.

  Moranda was a tall woman, with silver hair that reached her waist. She wore a rich cloak of purple, and a diadem with a single sapphire.

  “And who is this?” she asked.

  “I wanted to ask you the same,” Faol replied. “She is your agent.”

  “She is not.”

  “I told you,” I said out the side of my mouth.

  “What is your name?” Moranda asked me.

  “It’s Aideen.”

  “Aideen… And you’re not a mage?”

  “No.”

  “Who are you then?”

  “Just Aideen,” I said.

  “She entered the castle,” said Faol. “I thought you’d sent me some girl, twist me into further knots.”

  “Why would I do that?” Moranda asked.

  “I don’t know! I can’t understand your crooked mind.”

  “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

  “So how did she get into the castle?” asked Faol.

  “I have an idea.”

  “Is this an idea you’re going to share with me?”
/>   “Of course not, Faol. That’s for you to work out for yourself.”

  He glared at me, like this was all my fault. Perhaps it was.

  “She arrived yesterday,” said Faol, “and then the Night Mage crossed the sky.”

  “Oh dear,” said Moranda. “Getting stronger, is it? You better work harder.”

  “I’m working as hard as I can! I need new books. I need a better wand. I need room to practise! If I have to deal with her, I should have better supplies.”

  “Her has a name,” I said.

  “You will receive nothing more,” said Moranda. “I’ve told you this before; I do not want to tell you again. If the girl has somehow boosted the power of the Mage, then rejoice in the challenge.”

  Faol seethed beside me. I could almost feel the heat off his skin.

  “Aideen,” said Moranda. “What shall we do with you? No one should enter this castle. And yet you managed it. How?”

  “I opened the door,” I said.

  Moranda laughed, even though I’d made no joke. “That is the usually the easiest way. Come here. I’d like to see you closer.”

  I shuffled forward to the edge of the light.

  “Lift your chin, girl. And remove that silly beast.”

  Footsteps behind me. Scaly leapt off my neck and into Faol’s hand.

  “Hmm,” said Moranda. “I see nothing special in you.”

  “She is a guest in my home,” Faol said behind me. “Speak to me like filth, but treat her with some respect.”

  Moranda lifted a grey eyebrow. “Hush, Faol, if you have any sense left in that head of yours. The green is for Mage Kiro, is it?” She rolled her eyes. “A bizarre choice. You worry me, Faol. You do.”

  “I’m not special,” I said, before Faol could reply. “I’m not ashamed. It’s just the way it is.”

  “You’re wearing Faol’s clothes,” asked Moranda. “Do I need to know why?”

  “Mine were dirty,” I said, my cheeks burning.

  “Why did you enter the castle?”

  “Why not? I like castles.”

  “You had no right. And now you’re distracting my student.”

  “She’s not distract—”

  “Be quiet, Faol. I won’t warn you again. Step away from the girl.”