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The Sword of Unmaking (The Wizard of Time - Book 2)

Page 3

by G. L. Breedon


  “Your whole side is burned,” Teresa said, trying to hold the tunic away from his skin.

  “We have to get you and Marcus back to the castle immediately,” Ohin said.

  Gabriel could feel Ohin reaching for the imprints of his necklace’s seashells and the magical energy that would allow him to transport them through time to the castle.

  “No,” Gabriel said, looking at the candidate’s body ten feet away. “He won’t survive if we do that. Every second is important. That’s what Marcus said.”

  “Every second may be important for you, too,” Ohin said.

  “He’s right,” Teresa said. “The burns are spreading. I don’t know how, but they’re getting worse.”

  Gabriel felt the pain dispersing farther along his left side and had a pretty good idea what the cause was — a powerful Heart-Tree curse. Untreated, it would consume his body in minutes and kill him. He could attempt to treat it himself, but he would lose the opportunity to revive the candidate, and their entire mission would have been pointless.

  “No,” Gabriel said, pleading with Ohin. “I can save him. There’s time to save us both.”

  Ohin held Gabriel’s eyes for a moment, then glanced to the candidate before turning back and nodding his assent.

  “Quickly.”

  Ohin grabbed Gabriel under his good arm and helped him sit up.

  “I’ve got him,” Ling said, gesturing with her hand as she magically lifted Gabriel from the ground and carried him through the air, setting him down beside Rajan and the extraction candidate.

  Gabriel knelt beside the candidate, wheezing now as he tried to ignore the burning pain spreading across his back. The old man beside his knees looked peaceful in death. Curly, gray hair and a carefully trimmed beard accented his regal features. He had a commanding presence, even in the stillness of his demise.

  “Hurry,” Teresa said, her voice filled with worry.

  Gabriel nodded to her and took one quick look across the hillside to where Sema tended Marcus’s wounds, trying to slow the flow of blood. Then he concentrated on the imprints of the sword in his hand. Magical energy flowed through him as he reached out with the Heart-Tree sense of his mind to scan the dead man’s body.

  First came the man’s heart. Gabriel willed the heart to beat again, helping it, as only a True Mage could, with small, gentle contractions of Wind Magic as he healed the complex muscle. The heart once again began to beat, and he turned his attention to the lungs. The man breathed deeply, first once, then twice.

  “That’s enough,” Ohin said, placing a hand on Gabriel’s good shoulder.

  “One more moment,” Gabriel replied. “He’ll die again if I stop now.”

  It was true. The smallpox had so ravaged the man’s body that he would die again in minutes. Gabriel focused as much magical energy as he could into healing the man, eradicating the disease and repairing damaged organs and tissue. He couldn’t heal the man completely, even with the enormous amounts of magical energy he devoted to the task. A complete healing would take much longer. But this would be enough. This would keep the man alive until they could get him back to the Heart-Tree Mages at Windsor Castle.

  Gabriel released the magical energy and slumped to the ground. The man lying in the grass blinked and opened his eyes. He did not look around, did not seem bewildered. Although Ohin and the others stared at him, his eyes never left Gabriel’s.

  “Am I dead?” the man asked, his voice a sonorous baritone.

  “You were,” Gabriel said. “And you are to those who knew you. But now, you live.”

  “Thank you,” the man said, trying to sit up. “I am…”

  “We know,” Gabriel said. “You are Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, Emperor of Rome. I am…”

  Gabriel’s eyes fluttered as he struggled to finish his thought, but the pain in his back had spread to his chest, and now it seemed to be inside his head. He would have screamed, but the agony felt too great. As his mind faded, he noticed the blackness of time-travel blending seamlessly with the darkness of unconsciousness.

  Chapter 3: Ballgames and Barbecues

  Gabriel’s feet slapped the dark brown earth as he ran. He glanced over his shoulder and strained to run faster, gulping down air to fuel his muscles. He risked another look and dove feet-first to the ground, sliding forward into a square rock.

  CRACK. The ball struck the leather mitt.

  “Safe!”

  The black-jacketed umpire crossed and uncrossed his arms in a nearly universal gesture as Gabriel stood to his feet, panting.

  Baseball is great, he thought, smiling at Teresa, swinging a bat as she stepped up for her turn at the plate. The improvised baseball field filled the old royal gardens of the east terrace, running back to a small corn field within the boundary of the space-time barrier that prevented the castle and the surrounding grounds from slipping completely into the Primary Continuum.

  At the bottom of the ninth inning, with two outs already and the other team leading 5-2, it looked like a clear loss for the Chimera team. With Gabriel on first base and Akikane on second, their best hope for not getting entirely trounced was for Teresa to get on base and then for Jan to hit a home run.

  Jan, a sixteen-year-old Wind Mage from 1920s Minnesota, had eagerly volunteered for the ninth place on the team. Jan said he loved sports, but Gabriel suspected his interests lie more with Teresa than baseball.

  Gabriel found his stomach increasingly uncomfortable every time he saw them together, but had had to admit — Jan hit the ball like a young Babe Ruth. Unfortunately, from Gabriel’s perspective, he didn’t look like a young Babe Ruth but rather a young Clark Gable.

  Gabriel fidgeted with the small bracelet of granite-colored stones around his left wrist. It looked like a small mala of prayer beads, and he played with one of them absentmindedly. He edged away from the base as Teresa took her position at home plate. The pitcher from the opposing team, Marie, a Time Mage from the Dark Ages of France, threw the ball high and wide. Teresa swung and missed as the umpire called a strike.

  She must be nervous, Gabriel thought as he edged a little father from the base. Teresa couldn’t seem to catch a ball to save her life, but she could usually hit anything thrown her way. Gabriel risked another half-step toward second base as Teresa set her feet and positioned the bat in anticipation of the next pitch.

  The pitcher leaned back, preparing for the throw, hesitated for the briefest of moments, then spun on her heel and rocketed the ball toward first base. Gabriel yelped in surprise and dove back for the base, closing his eyes as he stretched out his arms, racing to beat the speeding ball. He collided with the first baseman’s legs a moment after he heard the ball strike leather.

  “Out!”

  Cheers erupted from the crowds of mages lining the back of the eastern terrace. Gabriel spat dirt from his mouth and wiped dust from his eyes as he stood up and sighed. Losing was bad enough, but being the reason the team lost annoyed him more than he could contemplate. Especially since creating baseball teams to build castle morale had been his idea in the first place.

  He saw Teresa standing near home base, baseball bat resting idly on her shoulder, eyes wide as she stared at him with a look of incredulity. He shrugged his shoulders in response and started walking back to the castle. Akikane caught up with him halfway there.

  “Good game, good game,” Akikane said, beaming as though they had just won in a shutout.

  “We lost.” Gabriel sighed.

  “True winning is having fun, not the highest score,” Akikane said. “I had great fun.”

  Gabriel’s mood brightened considerably as Akikane’s words settled into his mind. It had been a fun game. He had caught two fly balls and had made one of the two runs the team managed to score.

  “You’re right. It was a good game.”

  “Yes, yes,” Akikane said, patting Gabriel on the shoulder. “Next time though, maybe stand a little closer to the base. Winning can be fun, too.”

  Gabriel l
aughed at Akikane’s teasing as they rejoined their teammates near the home plate.

  “Nice dive for the plate.” Teresa walked up beside Gabriel, still swinging her bat. “Too bad you were so far away from it you couldn’t get back in time.”

  “Sorry.” Gabriel wasn’t sure how many times he’d need to apologize for the loss of the game, but he suspected it would be numerous.

  “That’s okay. You know I have a problem with the whole hand-eye coordination thing required for hitting the ball, and I hate running around bases, and honestly, winning is so overrated.”

  Teresa was well known as the best batter on the team and almost as competitive as Ling. Gabriel wondered if swinging the bat was an unconscious act, or whether she might be refraining from using it.

  “My strategy was sound, but my execution was a little off.” Gabriel tried to make sure his voice didn’t sound too defensive. Although his voice had begun to deepen in the last year, it also had an annoying tendency to crack and jump an octave when excited.

  “I find it amazing that someone who can defeat a pack of Apollyons can’t figure out how to help us win a baseball game.” Teresa teased. “Maybe we should challenge the Dark Mages to a baseball game. Apparently you need a life-threatening incentive to play your best.”

  “We could always set the baseballs on fire.” Gabriel felt glad to see her happy.

  “Don’t tempt me.” Teresa swung the bat up and rested it on her shoulder. Gabriel hadn’t really thought she might swing the bat at him, but he sighed in relief nonetheless.

  The crowd did not disperse with the end of the game or the setting of the sun. Rather, it doubled, as cooks from the castle wheeled out large charcoal grills and tables covered with dishes of sweet corn, potato salad, and apple pie. Gabriel had convinced Councilwoman Elizabeth and the rest of the council that an old-fashioned American barbeque would be not only a great end to their weekly baseball game, but also the perfect way to celebrate a successful extraction.

  It had taken two full days for Gabriel to completely recover from the Apollyon’s curse. His life had hung in the balance for several hours as Elizabeth and Akikane worked together to save him. Their combined powers and skills cleansed Gabriel’s body of the curse, but the process had left him physically exhausted. Marcus’s recuperation had been far swifter owing to the nature of his injuries, which a fellow Heart-Tree Mage had healed in minutes. The entire team had required healing of one form or another, but none of them suffered any permanent damage.

  Gabriel discovered an increased appetite was the only side effect of the healing. An hour after the Chimera team’s ignominious loss due to Gabriel’s miscalculation, he sat jamming a third hotdog into his mouth as his teammates discussed the game.

  “Practice.” Marcus lifted his glass of beer. “We can’t hope to win more games unless we practice more often.”

  “I must be drinking too much.” Ling looked at the glass of beer in her hand. “I actually agree with Marcus.”

  “Great minds think alike.” Marcus drained his glass of beer as he laughed at Ling.

  “Yes, they do.” Teresa winked at Ling. “And so do simple minds.”

  A potato chip launched itself from Ling’s plate toward Teresa’s head as Ling winked back at her. Teresa caught the chip in her mouth and chomped down on it.

  “As well as violent minds.” Teresa laughed around the potato chip.

  “Words to remember.” Marcus grinned as he, too, tossed a potato chip at Teresa. She craned her neck forward to catch the chip in her mouth and then stuck her tongue out at Marcus.

  “Why must every meal devolve into a food fight?” Sema asked, sipping her iced tea.

  “That’s not true.” Gabriel squirted more mustard onto his hotdog. “We hardly ever throw food at breakfast.”

  “That’s because Teresa is always too tired to instigate anything before noon.” Rajan scooped a second helping of potato salad onto his plate.

  “I’m not the one who started throwing food.” Teresa crunched loudly on the captured chip.

  “If we’re going to practice more, it’ll have to be on Sundays.” Ohin stroked his chin in thought. “We can’t afford time away from our real training.”

  “You mean on our one day to sleep in,” Teresa said.

  “Laundry day,” Ling said.

  “A holy day, let’s not forget,” Marcus added.

  “Holy for you in what sense?” Sema asked, turning to Marcus. “In that you drink twice as much?”

  “It was Gabriel’s idea to start the baseball team,” Rajan said. “So he can do the laundry.”

  “Yes, he’s very good at heating up water and shaking things around in it,” Teresa said.

  “It’s not his fault he confuses you for a sock that needs washing when you’re wet.” Ling laughed as she ducked Teresa’s impulsively thrown hotdog.

  “Let’s not waste food,” Rajan said.

  “Or entirely forget our table manners,” Sema added.

  “I agree with Akikane,” Gabriel said. “It’s not about winning. It’s about how much fun we have playing the game.”

  “A perfectly enlightened attitude,” Sema said, nodding her head toward Gabriel in approval.

  “Particularly when we lose as often as we do,” Ohin said with a deep chuckle.

  “I think I’m going to practice having fun with a piece of apple pie,” Gabriel said. “Anyone want some?”

  His teammates all made gestures and comments about how full they were as Gabriel excused himself. He walked over to the dessert table, filled a thick clay bowl with a large piece of apple pie and then piled several scoops of vanilla ice cream on top. As he dipped his finger into the ice cream and stuck it into his mouth for a quick taste, a voice spoke up beside him.

  “You were really good today.”

  Gabriel swung around, an ice cream covered finger still in his mouth, to find Justine, a pretty blonde girl with blue eyes from 1960s New Zealand. New to the castle, she had only recently begun her third month of apprenticeship as a Heart-Tree Mage. Gabriel had only spoken to her a few times. Her sapphire-colored eyes were quite dazzling. Had her eyes always been that amazingly blue?

  “Mmmm.” Gabriel pulled his finger from his mouth. His face felt suddenly aflame. “I got caught off-base and lost us the game.”

  “Well, yes.” Justine frowned slightly. “But up until that point, you were really doing quite well.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m a big fan.”

  “I love baseball, too.”

  “No, I meant…well…yes, I do like baseball.”

  “You should join a team.”

  “Is there a spot open on your team?”

  “Well, no. I meant one of the other teams.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  Gabriel suddenly realized how uncomfortable he felt and how odd it seemed. Not odd because a beautiful blue-eyed girl appeared to be a fan and wanted to talk to him, but odd because the more they talked, the more he wanted to be talking to a different girl with enchanting eyes. Looking over Justine’s shoulder, Gabriel could see several of his teammates standing up from the table.

  “I should probably…”

  “I hear you escaped the Apollyons again.”

  “Uh. Yeah.” Gabriel felt his face beginning to burn again, but for a different reason. Being the Seventh True Mage meant fielding many stares and questions from the other mages at the castle. Strangely, it was easier to talk about being the boy who lost the baseball game than the one who escaped three Apollyons.

  “That’s amazing. How did you do it?”

  “I ran. And I got lucky. And I had my team. Speaking of which, I should get back to them. It was nice talking to you, ah, Justine.”

  Justine looked dejected as Gabriel smiled at her and walked back to the dinner table. By the time he arrived only Sema and Marcus remained, sitting next to each other and chatting pleasantly in low tones.

  Gabriel had noticed over the last year that they seemed to g
et along much better when they didn’t think anyone was watching. He looked around for the others and caught sight of Teresa sitting on a garden bench with Jan, laughing and drinking lemonade. Gabriel sat down with a sigh and looked at his dessert. Apple pie and ice cream suddenly didn’t seem as appetizing.

  “She’s very pretty,” Sema said.

  “What. Who?” Gabriel took a bite of ice cream as much to cover his thoughts as to cool the heat once more rising in his face.

  “Young Justine.” Marcus laughed. “She seems quite taken with you.”

  “She was only…she likes baseball.” Gabriel stuffed another bite of pie and ice cream into his mouth. He had discovered with conversations like this that the less he spoke, the better things went.

  “I’m sure she does,” Sema said, hiding her amusement as she dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Among other things.”

  “Let me give you some advice, my boy.” Marcus leaned across the table, his eyes suddenly serious.

  “Is that really such a good idea?” Sema furrowed her brow.

  “It’s simple advice. No harm can come of it.” Marcus looked Gabriel in the eyes. “If you care about a woman, tell her so. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

  “Justine is a friend. Well, sort of a friend.” Gabriel thrust his spoon into the bowl again.

  “Ah, yes.” Marcus leaned back with a sigh. “No harm at all.”

  “That actually seems like sound advice.” Sema’s expression darkened slightly. “Odd that you never seem to follow your own advice.”

  “Its knowledge gained from painful experience.” Marcus’s eyes drifted from the table in thought.

  “When I was a boy, not much older than young Gabriel here, I fell madly in love with a local farm girl. I used to walk five miles each way just to bring her flowers. We would talk while she taught me how to milk the cows.

  “I must have spent weeks helping her with chores around the farm. She seemed to be interested, but I could never muster the courage to tell her how I felt. I was sure she must know my feelings. Then I fell ill and ended up bedridden for a month. When I finally managed to bring her a handful of forest flowers again, I found another local boy helping her with her chores. It seems he had the nerve to tell her his feelings. They were married a month later.

 

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