The Night Mage

by April Swanson

“Why? What are you going to do?”

  “Step away.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered to Faol. “I’ll be fine.”

  He shot one last filthy look at Moranda, and then stepped out of the light.

  “Good,” said Moranda. “Close your eyes, Aideen.”

  “Wh—”

  “If you don’t close your eyes, you’ll go mad. Now, close them.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I wouldn’t show her my fear.

  “Say goodbye,” said Moranda.

  The floor disappeared beneath my feet. I heard Faol’s cry and the whistling of air as I plummeted down, down, into nothing.

  CHAPTER TEN

  My feet slammed into something hard. I winced with pain, but kept my eyes sealed shut. Many voices filled the air. And music, too. Pretty violins and cellos. Had I been transported to a party?

  “You can open them now,” said Moranda, inches from my ear. Her voice made me shudder.

  I opened them, and found myself in a lavish room, coloured gold and scarlet, overlooking preened gardens. There were people everywhere, wearing cloaks like Moranda’s.

  “Welcome to the Mage Court,” she said.

  “Why have you brought me here?”

  “No word of thanks? Faol has been fighting his whole life to reach this place. I grant you access and you’re not even grateful?”

  “I never asked to come here,” I replied. “And I think it’s unfair that I visit the court before Faol. He’s the mage, not me.”

  “He’s no mage,” Moranda scoffed. “He wants to be, but I doubt he’ll ever make the final grade.”

  “Well I do.” I crossed my arms. “So what do you want?”

  “To get to know you better, Aideen. Is that so wrong? There’s no need to be cross with me. I’ve granted you a great gift. You might walk into Faol’s castle easily enough, but the Mage Court is a different matter.” She looped her arm through mine. She smelled like fire and thunderstorms. “I’ll show you around.” She pulled me forward, out into the garden.

  I much preferred Faol’s.

  “This court represents all the magic in this part of the world,” said Moranda. “We oversee everything.”

  A couple of mages crossed our paths, wearing long cloaks of charcoal and moonbeams. One had vivid purple hair. They bowed to Moranda, cast an inquiring eye at me, and continued on with their heads glued together and fat books under their arms.

  “Training is long and intensive,” Moranda continued. “Only the best will succeed. Many try and fail.”

  We passed sculpted hedges in the shape of dragons and eagles, and a fountain with roses draped around the basin.

  “Do all mages train students?” I asked.

  “No. Only those elected to role of master. You don’t want to know what the test for that is like.”

  “You must be very talented,” I said.

  “No need to be so mocking, Aideen. I am talented, and Faol knows it. He knows what he must do. The boy has potential. This way, I’ll show you something special.”

  We walked through the gardens, still glued at the arm. I spotted another person with robes as fine as Moranda’s.

  “Is she a master too?” I asked.

  “Indeed,” she replied. “There are too few of us. We need more mages to advance, or we will have no teachers left to train new talent.”

  We left the light of the gardens and entered a small side-door in the outer wall of the court. It led to a narrow flight of stairs.

  “I assume most mages don’t use this door,” I said.

  “Clever girl,” said Moranda, in a tone that sent shivers down the back of my neck. The stairs were so narrow we had to unloop our arms at last. As I followed Moranda, the door closed behind me.

  “It’s so dark.”

  “I can see,” said Moranda. “You need to open your eyes.”

  “My eyes are open.”

  “Clearly they are not.”

  “I don’t understand you. But I understand why Faol gets so angry.”

  “You understand nothing,” Moranda said calmly.

  The stairs came to an end, and I followed in the flow of Moranda’s cloak. We faced a locked door, this one bound with heavy silver chains. My neck prickled again.

  “No need to be afraid,” said Moranda.

  “I’m not afraid.”

  She tsked. “Best not to lie, Aideen. Lying rarely helps anyone. Always be honest, especially with yourself.”

  “For a master who likes to dish out so much advice, you don’t seem to be doing much to help your student.”

  Moranda spun around in a cloud of darkness. Her eyes burned bright as flames.

  “I’ve done everything to help that boy!”

  I stood firm, although my legs were shaking, and waited for the cloud to fade and the light to return. When everything was back to normal, I said, “He’s not a boy.”

  “He is,” she snapped. “A boy with so much to learn. You have known him not even a day. I have known him for years. Foolish girl.”

  I blushed at that, for I heard the truth in her words. I did not know Faol at all. He rescued me from the Night Mage, and let me sleep in his bed and eat his food and borrow his clothes, and he held me in his arms. Beyond that, I knew nothing.

  Moranda unlocked the heavy chains with one sweep of her hand. The doors opened.

  “Few people see what you’re about to witness,” she said.

  “So why—?”

  “Hush. I speak, you listen.”

  The open door exhaled an icy breath. Beyond was pitch black. This time I voluntarily stuck close to Moranda. There were three gaps in the ceiling, and weak sunlight fell down like torchlight, illuminating three different objects.

  A sword, a cup, and a shield.

  “Students and mages can use many objects to help them reach the Otherworld. Have you heard of the Otherworld?”

  “Only in stories.”

  “There’s truth in stories,” said Moranda. “The Otherworld is the world of magic and demons, where time is twisted, and names carry power. Only masters can use these sacred objects. There are so few in existence; they take centuries to craft. In the fires of this court, we have been forging an amulet for three hundred years.”

  “How can time be twisted?” I asked.

  “How can time be straight? In the Otherworld, past, present and future lie atop one another.”

  As I struggled to work my mind around the nature of the Otherworld, Moranda led me across the cold stone floor to the sword. Like the cup and the shield, the sword rested on a stone plinth. Its long blade burned with heat.

  “Do not even consider touching it,” Moranda warned. And then she lifted her own hand and delicately clasped the jewelled hilt.

  Sunlight burst from the blade, nearly blinding me. I threw my arm up to shield my eyes. Beside me, Moranda laughed.

  “Forgive an old master for teasing the young,” she said, releasing the sword. Darkness returned.

  I blinked away the white spots in my eyes. “That wasn’t very funny. What does it do?”

  “The sword has a strong connection with the Otherworld. The master who wields it can bend that power to their own will.”

  “I see.”

  We moved on to the plinth in the middle, which displayed a shield of bottomless black.

  “For protection,” Moranda said simply. “And the last is my favourite.”

  On the third plinth stood a silver goblet, shrouded in a thin grey mist.

  “Only the strongest may drink from the goblet,” said Moranda. “Its truths are so terrible, they would crush a weaker mind.”

  “Well, you can tell me what it tastes like.”

  “Do you think your mind is weak?”

  “I know it’s weak,” I said. “Especially compared to someone like you.”

  “Hmm,” she said.

  “Why have you shown me these objects?” I asked. “Can Faol use them to defeat the Night Mage?”

  Moranda laughed with
out humour. “No student can be trusted with such power. The tests are severe for a reason. Do you understand?”

  “I think so…”

  “Every student must defeat the Night Mage,” said Moranda.

  “You mean there’s more than one?”

  “The Night Mage takes many forms. Did Faol speak the truth? Did it really cross the sky?”

  “It did. I opened a silver door and it chased me. If it weren’t for Faol, I’d be dead.”

  “You don’t know that,” said Moranda. “Don’t fuel his ego when it is already so large.”

  “I can handle Faol.”

  “Faol is not meant to be ‘handled’. He’s not a horse. So you give strength to the Night Mage? Interesting.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” I said. “I want Faol to pass his test.”

  “But you only just met.”

  “So? Why would I want him to fail? Why would I want anyone to fail?”

  “Interesting,” Moranda said again. “Are you hungry? Faol won’t have fed you anything. He’s quite useless.”

  “Actually—”

  “I’ll have dinner arranged, just you and me.”

  The golden halls of the Mage Court were spotless and airy and suffocating. The mages huddled together in twos and threes, speaking in hushed whispers, bowing at Moranda and frowning at me. I might have been dressed in a mage’s clothes, but they all seemed to know I possessed not a scrap of magical talent. Many had heads of rainbow-coloured hair. I wondered if any of Faol’s idols were here.

  Our dinner was served at a long table, in a dining room with glass walls and a gaudy gold-leaf ceiling. Outside, birds perched on the perfect hedgerows. The sky was bright and blue, and the sun lit up all the gold cutlery on the table. I didn’t understand why we needed more than one spoon, one knife and one fork.

  Moranda and I sat at opposite ends of the table, meaning I had to almost shout to be heard.

  “The soup is nice!”

  “What do you know about magic?” Moranda asked. She didn’t eat much, but watched me instead.

  “It exists.”

  “And what about mages?”

  “I’m sitting in their court.”

  “You’re as difficult as Faol. No wonder you get along.”

  I wasn’t sure Faol and I got along at all, but I certainly preferred his company to Moranda’s.

  “We mages,” said Moranda, “keep the world in balance. We are guardians of the people, of history and knowledge. Mages learn secrets that would break ordinary minds. They hold power in their hands that could crush entire armies. Only the very best can be allowed access to such potential.”

  “I know,” I said. “That’s why Faol must defeat the Night Mage.” I didn’t know why she was telling me all this again. Mages were exemplary human beings. I understood.

  “You’ll never be a mage,” she said. “I hope I’ve made that clear.”

  “Perfectly.”

  “You lack the raw talent.”

  “I told you I understood.”

  “Don’t talk back to me,” she snapped. “I am a master of mages.”

  “Then you’re no master of mine.” I held my knife in my hand, poised over the fluffy white bread.

  To my surprise, Moranda smiled. “I think you could be of great use to me.”

  I clenched the handle of the knife in my palm. “No,” I said. “I’m of no use to anyone.”

  “I am right and you are wrong. Now, Aideen, I have a choice for you.”

  My eyes flashed towards the door. It was open. There were no guards.

  “You can’t run,” said Moranda. “I’d find you. Listen carefully to your options. I’ll only say them once.”

  My heart beat loudly. She seemed so far away. I focused on her mouth, to catch every single word.

  “Your first option is this: I send you home. You escape the castle with no strings attached. You will never hear of me or Faol again, and you will continue to live your life as before.” She paused to take a sip of wine. “And here is your second option: you remain in the castle until the Night Mage is destroyed. You will not see your family, or any of your friends. You will not step foot outside the castle until Faol has completed his training.”

  “And what if he fails?”

  “Ah, but I thought you believed in him?”

  “I do! But before I make my choice I need all the information.”

  “Clever girl,” said Moranda. “If Faol does not defeat the monster, you will both be trapped in that castle until your last breath. Now, what is it to be?”

  “How long do you think Faol will—”

  She held up a hand. “No questions. Even if I knew, I would not answer. This is the risk you take.”

  “Why are you giving me this choice?”

  “Are you stupid, girl? I said no questions. Only an answer. You have one minute, or I’ll decide for you.”

  Why was she doing this? It had to be a trap. Would my presence in the castle only disadvantage Faol? If I left, would the power of the Night Mage subside?

  But if I go home, I’ll never see him again. All the magic will disappear.

  “Thirty seconds,” said Moranda.

  I might never see my parents again. Did I truly believe Faol had the power to defeat the Mage? Was I willing to take that risk, and put my faith in a stranger?

  “Fifteen seconds, Aideen. You better hurry.”

  I’d been happy to stay in the castle before Moranda had appeared, but that had been a snap reaction after the threat of going home so soon. Now she was asking me to actively choose between my home and the castle, between my parents and Faol.

  “Ten,” said Moranda.

  What if Faol never defeated the Mage? How could I be happy in the castle if his failings kept me from my family? How could we ever be friends?

  “Five seconds.”

  “I’ll stay,” I said. “With Faol. I’ll stay with him until the Night Mage is defeated.” As soon as the words were out, I clamped a hand to my mouth.

  “Your choice is made,” said Moranda. “You cannot take it back. You are now my prisoner too.” She snapped her fingers, and all of the fine food disappeared. Outside, the day turned to night. “And another thing: you have one month. Faol’s seven years are nearly up. If he does not defeat the Mage by the next full moon, it will devour you both, and you shall never be free. You can tell him if you wish. It is your choice.”

  I snatched at the air my knife had just occupied. Moranda barked with laughter. “A blade against me? You’ve much to learn!”

  The table stretched out before me, growing longer and longer until Moranda was nothing more than a distant dot. I was pressed down into my chair, my arms and legs unable to move. The walls of the dining room cracked, white splinters rushing towards each other. I screamed for help, even though I knew it was pointless. No one would challenge Moranda in this place, especially not for someone like me.

  The glass walls cracked again. I watched as two huge fractures zig-zagged towards each other. As they met, there was a soft ting from above, and then the walls of the room imploded, sending forth great waves of glass. I screamed and screamed in my chair, and waited for the first shards to strike.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The roar of the glass echoed in my ears long after I crashed into the castle floor in a heap. Something nipped my arm. It was Scaly.

  I burst into tears.

  Warm hands touched my shoulders. “What did she do? Did she hurt you?”

  I couldn’t speak at first, only sob rather dramatically into my palms.

  “Aideen,” he was saying. “Please. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what she did.” He knelt on the floor beside me.

  I managed to shake my head and say, “I am not hurt.”

  “But you are crying.”

  I nodded, and cried even harder. He rubbed my shoulders, shifting my shirt across my skin.

  “Tell me what she did.”

  I wiped my eyes, and said, “She took me to
the Mage Court,” and regretted it immediately.

  His face fell. “What was it like?”

  “Awful.”

  “You don’t have to lie to preserve my feelings.”

  “No, it was awful, Faol. It’s so quiet, and the gardens are nowhere near as beautiful as yours. And the mages there are all scared of Moranda. It was stifling. I don’t think you’d fit in at all.”

  “It’s where I belong,” he said.

  “Then you will be a breath of fresh air.”

  “Aideen, tell me what happened.”

  “She…she gave me a choice. She said…I could go home if I wanted, and never return. Or…”

  Faol bowed his head until it rested on my shoulder. “You fool,” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t bear the thought of going home, not right now. I’ve not even been here a whole day!”

  “So you don’t know what it’s like.”

  “It can’t be worse than where I’ve come from; the dratted shop I must stand in all day.”

  “Aideen…”

  “I’m sorry if my presence has made it all the more difficult for you. I really am. But…I couldn’t help myself. I’m afraid I’m too selfish.”

  He lifted his head off my shoulder. His face was so close, I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

  “You’re not selfish, Aideen.”

  “There’s more… You’re not going to like it.”

  “Then don’t tease me.”

  “You have only until the next full moon. Moranda said your seven years are nearly up.”

  Slowly, he dropped his hands from my shoulders. “But that’s a single month!”

  “Yes. I’m afraid so.”

  “Moranda never told me I had a limited time! And if I don’t succeed?”

  “We will both be trapped with the Mage forever. Until our deaths.”

  He leapt to his feet and hurled a fist at the mirror, bashing his knuckles but leaving the glass unscathed. “You are impossible!”

  “There, there,” I said. “One month is more than enough time—”

  He collapsed to his knees in front of the mirror. “There is not enough time left in the world.”

  He seemed so small compared to the golden arch of the mirror. His green hair slipped forward as his face dipped towards the ground. Gently, I put a hand on his back, over his plum waistcoat. The material was soft and fine. “You know what I think?” I said. “I think Moranda sent me here to help you. I think she wants you to succeed, Faol, so you can join the court and all the other mages who scurry beneath her feet. Then she can find another young person to train and torment.”