A spark flashed through Marc’s half-closed eyes, one more of amusement than surprise. “My master speaks the truth, Gildas,” Marc said, covering up a yawn. He began to stretch, but stopped, wincing. “Ow!”
Both of his students remained partially hunched over. “I see the two of you are still experiencing the consequences of last night.”
Marc’s eyes rolled upward. “Unfortunately.”
“Other than that, how are you feeling?”
“Hungry, and still a little tired.” Marc turned toward Valeria. “You?”
“The same.”
Oren pointed at two stools near the fire. “Rest there.”
As they took their seats, Gildas spoke up. “I regret that you suffer on my account. I wish I could do something to help.” The monk’s gaze shifted to Valeria. “Thank you so much for finding me.”
An embarrassed smile grew on her face. “There’s no need to thank me, Brother. It is I who should thank you instead.”
Gildas blinked in surprise. “Why?”
“Because you were in need, the magic came and opened my mind to its power. I’ve had visions before, but always during sleep and they were difficult to understand. But I saw your plight while still awake, and, with Marc’s help, I learned to strengthen the vision enough to find you. Yesterday was a very special day for me.” She looked toward Marc, her gaze softening. “For both of us.”
Pride for her blossomed within Oren; she understood her relationship with magic while remaining humble about it. He started for the kitchen. “I have several loaves in the oven that should be ready. Be gentle with our guest for he needs his rest.”
Reaching into the oven, he lightly tapped each loaf; both yielded a satisfying hollow thump. Removing them to cool on the table, he took down a small crock of honey from a high shelf. What better way to celebrate than with a luxury of that kind? From another shelf he fetched a wide, shallow basket and four bowls. When the breads had sufficiently cooled, he placed them in the basket, collected the bowls and honey and returned to the other room.
“Come, let us feast. Hot barley and rye breads topped off with honey.” He passes Gildas the basket. “Would you kindly give the blessing, Brother?”
It took a moment for the monk to recover from the sight of so much bread, but after a quick prayer, they indeed feasted. Soon nothing remained but the warm fragrance of the meal.
— o O o —
Afterward, Marc followed Oren and Valeria to the workshop to give Gildas some more time to sleep. Once seated about the large table, the master had them recount their adventures of the day before. Once they were through, Oren asked if they had any questions. Marc went first.
“When we first came upon Gildas, Val called him Brother. How did she know that? He wore only a simple travelling cloak. Nothing pointed to him being a monk.”
“Being a novice with her visions, she could understand only the simplest part of what magic tried to reveal to her—that he was ill and where he was. By touching him, she understood a bit more, that he was a monk. If she understood how to Read the magic better, she would have known his name and other things.”
Valeria eagerly leaned forward on her elbows. “It was amazing, Master. Please teach me how to do this better.”
With a pleased nod, Oren patted her hand. “In time both of you will master this magic. Next question.” He looked pointedly at Marc, as if already knowing what was on his mind.
Taking in a nervous breath, Marc broached the subject that had lingered on his mind since the talk with his mother. “Did you already know about how my father died? About the magic in the antler?”
Oren met and kept his gaze. “Yes.”
“And that he was actually murdered by someone he knew?” Marc did nothing to conceal the pain the memory evoked.
“Yes.”
He stared at the table, balling his fists in frustration to keep the anger from his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I first came here? That way I wouldn’t have feared magic as I did. Why keep it secret?”
The master’s shoulders sagged with regret. “Since you discovered the Great Tree before you began your studies here, your perception of magic became falsely directed. You saw it as evil because it reconnected you with the terror of finding your father’s body. If I had told you about that night right away, you would not have completely accepted my explanation. By discovering the facts on your own, and at a time when you better understood magic, you truly came to understand why you feared magic, and why you reacted to the Tree the way you did.”
A rapid flux of emotions ran through Marc as he tried sorting his fractured thoughts into a whole he could comprehend. “I think I understand, but—.” He met Oren’s gaze again. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?” The master’s silence proved answer enough. Then, between one heartbeat and the next, his confusion vanished leaving him suddenly aware. Marc jumped to his feet and pointed excitedly at his master. “You know everything about what happened. Somehow, I know you do.” Marc felt both alarmed and pleased with his outburst.
Oren gave him that satisfied little smile he used whenever he or Valeria did something exceptionally well. “Yes, I do. Your magic serves you well. Now, sit.”
Releasing an anxious breath, Marc retook his stool as Valeria curiously eyed him. “So you know who killed my father.”
Nodding, Oren held up his hand to ward off Marc’s next question. “But, as before, I cannot tell you. The answer must come to you when the time is right.”
“Is it something I’ve forgotten? Like the antler?”
“No.”
His frustration began to rise once more. “Why can’t you tell me? Shouldn’t the killer be brought to justice?”
The wizard gestured for Marc to calm himself. “In time you will discover the truth, but only when your magic is strong enough to confront the guilty party. To learn it before then would alter your destiny.”
Accepting his master’s words, Marc let go of the tension in his muscles, causing him to slump toward the table. “I pray that day comes soon.”
A distant look came over Oren’s eyes and his voice grew quieter, more guarded. “If you knew the events of that day, you would not pray for its hastening.”
Again Marc felt aware. His teacher desperately wanted to tell him, to warn him. “Are you able to tell me when this will happen?”
“No.”
“What awaits him? Valeria asked, a touch of panic in her voice. “Some kind of danger?”
Seeing her worry, Oren momentarily closed his eyes, his features tense. “One could say it is a test. A test of Marc’s skill with magic.” The master’s gaze shifted to Marc. “And of his character.”
“And if I should fail this test?”
The elder quickly straightened and emphatically shook his head. “You must not fail. Everything you learn between now and then will be critical to your success.”
Feeling the burden of an unknown responsibility settle upon him, Marc stared at the table in silence, idly tracing the edge of the iron band with his thumbnail. Moving to stand beside him, Valeria put her hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed . Marc smiled at her show of support, then looked Oren in the eye with determination. “Then I won’t fail. Teach me what I need to know.”
Oren warmly placed a hand on Marc’s other shoulder. “I shall, and more.”
— o O o —
A sea of mottled, light gray clouds hung low, dense enough to block the warming rays of the sun, but holding too little moisture to further threaten rain. The winds were all but gone, and the air still had a slight nip to it, pleasant enough weather for a trip to the Great Tree. Marc had just visited it yesterday—the day his whole world changed. This afternoon’s experience would be new and unique, maybe even pleasant. While he no longer feared magic, the apprehension of facing some unknown future test weighed heavily on his thoughts.
He looked at Valeria as she walked next to him, the tall grass swishing quietly against her dress. “Do you feel
it yet?”
“Nothing.” Traces of disappointment showed on her face.
“We’re so close. I thought you would by now.”
“How does it feel to you?”
“Strong. As if I were already next to it.” Lifting his gaze from the path, he studied the still-distant Great Tree. It felt different this time—warmer, open, and even welcoming. The master was correct. Its magic had not changed at all, only his perception of it.
A huff of amusement came from her. “What are you smiling about?”
“The Tree.” He explained his thoughts.
“I’m glad to hear that.” She looked up at the Tree, unsure.
He knew her so well he could almost hear her thoughts. “If Oren says you’ll feel the Tree as he and I do, then you will.” Marc did his best to sound reassuring.
Valeria gave him an impatient frown. “But will I today?”
Taking her hand, he gently squeezed it. “If not today, then soon. Try to be patient.”
She smiled. “I’ll do my best.” Letting go, she sprinted toward the log that spanned the creek. “I’m first.”
While she scampered across, Marc directed his thoughts fully upon the Tree. Why did it ignore her? She already heard magic’s call; her visions were proof of that. If only he could talk to the Tree, reason with it. If she was destined to connect with it someday, why not now? Then her lessons could begin that much sooner.
“Marc,” she called from across the water, her voice sounding distracted.
“Coming.” He hopped up on the log and started over.
She let out a quiet sigh. “I… I feel it.” Her face glowed in wonder. “I feel it!” Not waiting, she started up the hill with a purpose.
Quickening his pace, he caught up to her. “Are you certain?”
“What else could it be?”
He touched her arm and felt magic’s warmth upon her—clearly from the Tree. Marc let out a whoop of joy. As they scrambled up the slope, he wondered if he somehow influenced the Tree’s actions. Upon reaching the ledge, he gestured for her to approach the Tree.
Valeria shook her head. “I’m not ready yet. You first.”
“Nervous?” he asked with a chuckle. “All right.” Stepping forward, he placed both hands upon the Tree and invited its power to enter him. “Let me learn my magic well. Help me pass this test I must face.” The Tree’s magic surged, sending tingling waves of energy flowing through him. A gasp from Valeria made him look her way. “What is it?”
She stared at him strangely. “You’re blue.”
“Blue?” He immediately inspected his arms and lower body. “No I’m not.”
“I mean there’s a blue light all around you. Like how coals in a fire glow.” She arced around him, her gaze traveling down his body and up again. “It’s very clear to me.”
Letting go, Marc again examined himself. “I see nothing.”
“Oh,” she said, cocking her head in surprise. “It’s gone now. It began when you spoke to the Tree. What did you feel right then?”
“Its magic became stronger.” He backed away and gestured her forward. “Your turn.”
She hesitantly moved closer to the massive trunk, hands held close to her chest, palms out. “I feel the might of its power even from here.” Reaching out, she touched the bark with the tip of a finger. “Oh, my!” She yanked back her hand and, wiggling her digit, inspected it. “Marc, that’s—” She gave him an odd smile. “It’s nothing like the last time I touched it.”
He chuckled once more; she was so eager a minute ago. “Feel all of it. Grab it.”
She planted both hands on the Tree and giggled. “Oh! This is quite strange. I’m Envisioning us from high above.” She gave him a teasing grin. “Much like how you saw me at the spring yesterday.”
Ignoring her attempt to embarrass him, he grinned back. “What else?”
“I hear sounds, like a bunch of people mumbling nearby. It makes no sense.”
“I hear that, too.”
As she leaned closer, a bluish light grew about her as it did during her vision of Gildas the day before, only more intense. This must be what she had seen around him.
“You’re blue as well.”
Remaining silent, she stared blankly at the Tree, much like when she first Envisioned Gildas at the village altar.
“What is it? What do you see?”
Still unresponsive, her arms began to tremble. Now concerned, Marc moved next to her. “Val?” The trembling intensified, spreading to her entire body. Tears streamed down her face. Dread clutched his insides. Was the Tree harming her, or magic itself? “Val! Let go!”
Her eyes rolled up as she violently arched backward. Jerking her away from the trunk, he carefully lowered her to the rocky ground. Patting her face, he tried to snap her out of the trance, or whatever had hold of her.
“Please. Wake up.”
Her face turned toward him, glazed eyes focused on some distant point. “Beware the Magus of Power,” she blurted before passing out.
All efforts to rouse her failed. Panic overcame him. For a moment he thought her dead, but she still breathed, deep and regular. After a slight hesitation, he put an ear to her chest and found her heartbeat strong. Why had the magic done this? He just came to accept it and now had another reason to fear it.
Gathering her into his arms, he hurried for home. “I’ll get you to Oren. He’ll know what to do.” Marc prayed for that to be true.
Chapter 13
“Valeria,” soothed a deep, gentle voice in the darkness.
It sounded familiar, but when she tried to connect it with a face or name, the knowledge seemed to recede from her, keeping just out of reach. Why did she feel so peculiar, so disconnected? And where was she? She started to open her eyes but quickly snapped them shut—the candle’s light too painful to bear. Then she noticed the searing headache accompanied by dizziness and nausea. Something bad had happened to her.
“Where... ?” she rasped.
“You’re back home, Val,” another, more familiar, voice whispered. It held power, moving over her spirit in a way most welcome. “I brought you here after you passed out.”
Home? Whose home? And... passing out? Someone took her hand causing a pleasant warmth to flood through her—this person cared for her.
“Marc?”
“Yes, Val. You had me quite worried for a time.”
Holding his hand tighter, she eagerly drew in more of his warmth, more of his... magic! She began to remember. Marc had carried her here, just like the night before. But why did he have need to? Had she become injured? Maybe the terrible headache meant she fell and hit her head. She reached to feel her face but another hand intercepted hers. It, too, had magic, but different.
“Master Oren?”
“I am here.”
Yes, the first voice she heard. “I remember being... somewhere, then Marc brought me here.”
“Correct.”
“What happened?”
Marc cradled her hand against his chest. “Don’t you remember going to the Great Tree?”
As he spoke the final two words, a fiery wind of magical power blew through her being, making her instantly aware of the Tree, why she went there and what took place.
“Master, I felt the Tree. I—.” She swallowed. “I feel it now. It gave me a great vision I can’t quite explain.” The memory of it began reform in her mind, frightening her.
Oren patted her hand. “Do not try right now. When you have recovered, then we will discuss it.”
She carefully nodded, each movement sending icy spikes of pain through her head. “Why did I pass out? And why does my head hurt so bad?”
“At the Tree you became fully aware of the magic that Marc and I know. That would be enough of a strain on you, but at the same time your ability to see visions was also greatly strengthened. Your head hurts because the vision took control of you, overwhelming your mind. I will teach you to control it. Now rest. Marc will stay with you while I see to G
ildas.” With a gentle squeeze of her hand, Oren rose and left.
She pulled Marc’s hand to her cheek, resisting the urge to kiss it. “Thanks for rescuing me.”
His magic warmed further. “Any time.”
“Where am I?”
“On your bed.”
Still with eyes closed, she felt around and found he knelt on the floor. “Those stones can’t be comfortable.” She carefully shifted to the far side of the bed and patted a spot next to her. “Sit here.” After a moment, he perched on the edge. “Closer. Your magic comforts me.” Reaching around his waist, she guided him toward her until his back rested against her hip. More of his magic flowed into her, easing the throbbing agony that began at the back of her eyes, tore through her head and burned down her spine.
“Better,” she sighed. “Tell me what you saw happen to me.”
As he detailed what took place, she pictured in her mind’s eye what he must have seen. “I was blue, too?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve got to ask Oren what that means.”
“I already did, hours ago.”
“Hours ago?”
“You’ve been asleep for five or six hours. I worried at first, but Oren assured me you were in no danger.”
“Oh. That’s good. And the blue?”
“Magic. Well, not exactly. The Master says it’s a way of seeing the magic that is, uh, attached to things. I don’t understand all of what he told me, but he did say we would soon be able to see this light at will.”
When Marc said we, he gently firmed his grip on her hand. The message was understood. “Am I to start learning the spells, then?”
“I asked Oren that question and saw him trying not to smile.”
A rush of delight filled her. “Teach me.”
“Gladly—if he permits it. But otherwise—”
“I know.” Ignoring the pain, she sat up, put her arms around him and whispered in his ear. “Thanks.” Kissing his cheek, she eased herself back to the comfort of her pillow.
He turned toward her more. “What did you see in your vision?”
Valeria deeply wished he had not asked that. The vision was most unpleasant, and she feared it had something to do with the test he must face. What could she possibly tell him that would not make him dread his future further? I saw you all bloody? In a grave? Or that someone shoots an arrow at you? No, it would be better to keep it to herself for now.
Haunted Tree (The Magus Family Chronicles Book 1) Page 16
