Spellsmith & Carver: Magicians' Rivalry

by H. L. Burke

  “She changed, grew distant. Somehow he got to her, lured her away from me with some spell. It’s the only reason she would’ve left.” Hedward shuddered. “I have nightmares about what he must’ve done to her. He was always spiteful, bitter that she chose the mortal realm rather than the Fey.”

  “But that was over a decade ago,” Jericho said. “Why is he coming back for Rill now?”

  “I don’t know.” Hedward gritted his teeth. “I knew something like this might happen. That was why I tried to keep Rill away from magic, so it wouldn’t call Janus’s attention to her. In the last few years, larger and larger rifts have been opening again, large enough for a Fey to pass into our world. Part of me began to hope I could use this to get back to the Fey world and rescue your mother, but I knew to do so I’d have to leave Rill unguarded. It’s been tearing my soul in two directions for so long. When you came back, I thought maybe I could have you watch over her so I could seek out your mother, if there was a chance she’s survived for this long.”

  “Could she survive in the Fey Lands?” Jericho asked. “You said she gave up her Fey essence, and the energy had no problem eating away at Auric.”

  “Being full-blooded Fey, she’d never truly lose the ability to walk in that world. It would be painful for her, perhaps, but not necessarily deadly.” Hedward stood. “Though honestly, I don’t know any more. I tried to get to her at the home she used to share with Janus, but he had a trap waiting for me. He knew I was coming. I never saw any sign of Iris.”

  “And Rill?” Jericho pressed.

  “Being part Fey, she should have some resistance to the energy, but again, it’s impossible to know how long she will be able to survive, or what Janus’s plans are for her.”

  Auric’s stomach crumpled in on itself, but he clenched his jaw and stood. “So, how do we get her back?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The air tickled Rill’s skin as if a thousand tiny bubbles burst about her. Air didn’t usually feel like that. Where was she and why couldn’t she open her eyes?

  The surface beneath her cradled her in comfort, cool and soft, but when she tried to rise or even move her arms, her body ignored her commands. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

  Don’t panic, she told herself. Deep breaths. Wait for your strength.

  Finally her fingers twitched. She managed a smile then thought better of it. Someone might be watching. Instead she lay as if still unconscious and gleaned what she could about the space around her: the effervescent quality of the air, the cool fur of the animal skin beneath her, the comforting cloth of her dress—comforting for it meant whoever had brought her here hadn’t undressed her.

  Small comforts. She’d cling to those.

  Memories fell into place like puzzle pieces. She’d been sitting in the parlor, embroidery in her lap, waiting. Waiting for what? Oh! Jericho, Auric, Father! They hadn’t returned yet. Then a crash from outside, a bright flash, and a strange odor and everything softened to a haze.

  She cracked one eye open. A blur of green surrounded her. No person that she could see, however. It took blinking several times to bring the world into focus. She lay on an arbor bench, a throw of white fur beneath her. Above her arched a trellis dripping with purple, pink, and white flowers. She inhaled. Lilacs. She’d always loved that scent.

  A wall of plants—trees, vines, flowers larger than her head—prevented her from seeing more than a few feet in any direction.

  “Well, for a prison it certainly seems a paradise.” She sat up, and her head swam. Bracing herself against the trellis, she breathed deeply until the dizziness passed. Where was she and why did the air feel so strange?

  “You’re awake!”

  Rill jerked her head around as the greenery parted like a curtain.

  A small, lively man with silver-white hair and oddly familiar blue eyes smiled at her.

  “I apologize for the abrupt way I brought you here.” He bowed.

  She scowled at him. “The way you kidnapped me, you mean.”

  He tilted his head. “You make it sound so ugly. Are you in any way restrained? Have you been harmed?”

  “So I can leave then?” She raised her eyebrows.

  He flinched. “Please, the reason I brought you here is quite simple: I need to speak with you. Unfortunately your blasted father wouldn’t let me get close enough to wave in your direction, let alone converse.” His eyes twinkled. “Surely you can hear me out?”

  “I will.”

  He grinned.

  “After I’ve been safely returned to my home, of course.”

  His grin faded.

  They stood, staring at each other in awkward silence for long enough that Rill began to consider her chance of taking him in a fight. He was easily the shortest man she’d ever seen, no taller than herself, and thin of frame. Still, he’d somehow managed to get her here, and a dress was a disadvantage if one needed to run for one’s life.

  Maybe she could just leave. She stepped towards the overgrown garden. The vines and leaves merged into a solid wall. Jaw clenching, she pushed against it. It pushed back, sending her toppling onto her rump. Rill huffed and stood, resisting the urge to rub her backside.

  The strange man didn’t move, just stared at her as if she were an interesting painting … or a pretty butterfly caught in his web.

  Rage flared in her chest, and she wrenched at the vines with her hands. They twisted about her arms. She gasped and flinched away.

  Turning on him, her face hot and her breath ragged, she shouted, “Let me go home! I want to go home!”

  The man’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, but that can’t happen. I wish there were some other way.”

  Her hands shook so she hid them in her skirts. Obviously she couldn’t force her way out of here. Maybe she could trick him, though. “I’m … I’m just frightened. My embroidery calms me. Perhaps if you brought my hoop and floss with you, I could sit and settle my nerves?” She gave him what she hoped was an innocent smile.

  He covered his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Her stomach clenched.

  “Oh, my dear,” he said, “how gullible do you think I am? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the sort of sampler you were making on that little hoop of yours? No, I left that behind quite intentionally.”

  She drew herself up. “It was worth a try.” All that work to secretly enchant her embroidery needle into a stylus, and she didn’t even have it when she needed it. “I have no idea what you want, but you aren’t getting it. I want to go home!” She stomped her foot even though she knew the action made her look a petulant child.

  He sighed. “You look so much like your mother.”

  Ice rushed through Rill’s veins. “How do you know my mother?”

  “I know her better than any other creature, mortal or Fey.” He stepped closer. She stumbled back, bumping into the vines. The tendrils grasped at her shoulders, but the man snapped his fingers, and they released her. “May I introduce myself, Trillium Spellsmith? For that is your full name, isn’t it? I doubt your father calls you that.”

  Rill swallowed. Father never had, but she’d seen the name inked in the family Bible, chronicling her birth.

  “Your mother does. Oh, she speaks of you so often.”

  “She speaks … as in … she’s still …” Rill clamped her mouth shut. No, she couldn’t listen to this. She couldn’t believe him. Whoever this man was, he’d kidnapped her, and he was lying.

  “My name is Janus, and I’m your uncle.”

  Tears welled up in Rill’s eyes. No, this couldn’t be. Her mother had been gone for years, most likely dead. This man was a stranger and a liar and a kidnapper. “Let me go home!”

  “If I do, there will soon be no home for you to return to.”

  She stiffened. Was that a threat? Against her home? Her family? Who was this man and what could he do to them?

  “We’ve started off all wrong. Please, believe me, if there were any other way, I would’v
e kept you out of this. I even approached your brother in hopes that he could take your place, but he’s already lost too much of his Fey essence. You are the only chance the mortal realms have.” He put out his hand, but she slapped him away.

  “Stop it! This is insane! Why would Auric have any Fey essence? What do you mean about Mother? How do you really know her?”

  He sighed. “All right. I can see you won’t take my word on any of this. However, you don’t have to. You can see it with your own eyes.” Again he extended his hand.

  She eyed it as if it were a venomous snake.

  “Please?” He gave her a smile. For a brief moment his blue eyes reminded her of Auric’s and a chill cut through her. “After all,” he continued, “I had you at my mercy while you were unconscious. If I intended you harm, wouldn’t I have acted upon it then?”

  Considering her options, Rill sighed then took his hand. “I suppose I will be no worse off for hearing you out. Show me whatever it is you think will change my mind.”

  Together they stepped towards the wall of foliage which parted like the Red Sea before them … the Red Sea or the walls of Jericho.

  Jericho.

  Oh, Dear Lord, please let me see him again, she prayed silently. I didn’t even get to say the words.

  On the other side of the hedge, which proved to be several paces thick, a path of shining blue tile rippled through the garden in ever shrinking circles. She could see its course, and her nature was to cut across and skip right to the middle, but Janus held her hand and kept them to the path, circling the same mundane point over and over again.

  “It seems we’re going the long way,” she said.

  “You can’t skip the journey. The way you get to things is just as essential as the end results.”

  Perhaps this meant something in insane-kidnapper-speak, but as far as Rill could tell, they were simply orbiting nothing. With every circuit the path grew closer to the center of the spiral; however, she could plainly see the center, and there was nothing there.

  Finally they were on the last loop. She eyed her captor, who walked on as if their path didn’t lead to nothing.

  Humor him, she decided. Jericho and Auric will find out I was taken soon enough. Either one of them would be a force to be reckoned with. Together? God help this idiot.

  They reached the center, but Janus pulled them a step short.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She furrowed her brow.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” The man stepped forward, and the ground fled beneath them like water down a drain.

  Rill shrieked.

  The blue tiles of the path circled her, twining like a constricting snake, around and around, dizzying. She gripped Janus by the arm. Then, without so much as a jolt, it stopped. They no longer stood in the garden. Instead a marble foyer rose about them, columns and arches supporting a domed ceiling with a circular gap. Dark sky crossed with bright pink wounds shone through this skylight. Dizzy, Rill leaned against Janus for two breaths, then shoved him away.

  “What was that? Where am I?” she gasped.

  “This is the heart of my sanctum and the focus of my work.” He motioned towards the sky. “Over here, my lady.” He turned her around.

  Lavender light and the smell of lilacs rushed to meet Rill. Before her shone a web of energy, like lightning in its form but static rather than flashing in ephemeral brilliance. Lines criss-crossed, a weaver’s frame of light and power. Her skin tingled. So much magic. She’d never imagined the possibility of so much magic.

  In the center of the web, a slight figure stood, arms outstretched. The veins of energy twisted and merged with her pale limbs, blurring the boundaries between her body and the powerful forces about her. The trapped woman’s eyes locked with Rill.

  Rill’s knees knocked together. With a strangled cry, she threw herself towards the woman.

  Janus snatched her about the waist. “No! Not yet! It will consume you.”

  “Let me go!” She kicked and clawed. “Mother! Mother! I’m here! It’s me! Rill!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jericho crammed another quire into his already over-stuffed pack. He exhaled, trying to calm the storm brewing in his chest.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and he turned to see Master Spellsmith enter the workshop. Jericho swallowed.

  “I locked Jaspyr in Rill’s bedroom to keep him from following us when we leave,” Hedward said. “The poor creature is distraught, but he’ll be all right when we get Rill home. Are you ready? Where’s Auric?”

  “Kitchen, I think. Getting more rosemary oil.” Jericho shifted the contents of the pack around. Any more and he’d risk splitting the seams.

  Hedward leaned against the work table, his tired gray eyes burrowing into Jericho.

  The apprentice cleared his throat. “About what Auric said, about me and Rill … do we need to clear the air on that now or can it wait until she’s safe?”

  “It should probably wait.” Hedward dabbed at his forehead. “I’ve been so obsessed with protecting Rill from Fey threats, I didn’t realize what was going on beneath my own roof.”

  An unpleasant jolt cut through Jericho. Did Master Spellsmith see him as a threat to Rill? Something she should’ve been guarded against? He opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. If they went into the Fey Lands fighting amongst themselves, they’d never get Rill home.

  He focused on his packing. Closing the flap, he found the quires sticking out too high, preventing him from buckling it. Grunting, he jerked at the straps, trying to make them stretch. It still wouldn’t close. He opened it back up and pulled out the top layer of quires. Well, leaving the wooden ones behind would leave more room for the paper ones. Lighter, so he could carry more, and just as effective for most quick spells. He’d take a few wooden quires for complex magic and rely on paper for everything else.

  “Jericho, do you know why I made you my apprentice?”

  Jericho looked up. Hedward had moved to stare out the window, his back to Jericho.

  Swallowing, Jericho shrugged. “I assumed it was because I showed an interest in it. Always asking questions when you came around my uncle’s shop, begging to borrow books.”

  “That’s why I loaned you books, but taking an interest in a bright young man’s education and allowing him into your household are two very different things.” Hedward sighed. “It was because of your father.”

  A hot knot formed in Jericho’s chest. He didn’t want to think he owed anything to that man. “How so?” he asked, keeping his voice level.

  “You never talk about how he treated you.”

  His stomach clenched. “I didn’t realize you knew, sir.” So he’d been hired due to pity? A charity case?

  Hedward laughed quietly. “In a town as small as Mountain’s Foot, there are few secrets.” He turned from the window, his eyes earnest.

  Jericho shifted from foot to foot. “We really should be going after Rill, sir. We can talk about this—“

  “This will only take a moment, and you need to hear it.” Hedward frowned. “Your uncle told me he tried to take you out of your father’s home a full three years before his death. Said one day he found out his brother had broken your arm in one of his rages and he couldn’t stand the thought of you living there another moment: but you refused to go.”

  Jericho rubbed the back of his neck. “It wasn’t a bad break. Healed in a month.”

  “He said the reason you wouldn’t leave was because of some bull-headed idea that you could stop him from hurting your mother.”

  The memory roiled within him, and Jericho dropped his eyes. “When he couldn’t get at me, he’d go after her.”

  “You were, what, eight? And you chose to live in what must’ve been hell for three more years to look after your family.” Hedward crossed to Jericho and squeezed his shoulder. “That is why I hired you, because I believe the noblest use for magic is to protect people, and you, Jericho, are a protector.”
/>   Jericho’s throat tightened. Rill’s face flashed before his eyes. He hadn’t been much of a protector where she was concerned. If he didn’t get her back, he’d never forgive himself. “Sir, about Rill … if you know about my father, then you know my parents’ marriage might as well have been a prison to my mother. My uncle, he’s kind to her, but the reason behind the union was obligation, not affection.” He pushed down the last quires and managed to get the bag shut. “Because of that, I never intended to fall in love. Figured there was a chance I had some of my father in me, and I’d be a poor match for any woman.”

  Hedward’s expression softened. “I doubt that very much.”

  “Well, whether it is logical or not, I didn’t trust myself in that way, but Rill—” Jericho drew a deep breath. “There was a point I looked into her eyes and I realized, I’m not my father. I knew in my gut that I’d cut off my own hand before I raised it against her. I’m still not certain I’m good enough for Rill, but I know I’d never hurt her, that I’d die to keep her safe and happy. And for now, that’s all you need to know.” He hoisted his pack over his shoulders. “Now can we stop talking and go get her?”

  Hedward smiled. “Yes, let’s do that. We’ll talk more about this once she’s home.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll go get Auric.” Jericho started down the stairs, his ribs still constricting about his heart. Dear God, I’ve asked for so little in my life, but please, if you never answer another of my prayers, answer this one. Let her be all right.

  ***

  Auric shoved the last bottle of rosemary oil into his knapsack and stomped out of the kitchen. Jericho waited in the foyer with an expression on his face that might as well have been carved of stone.

  “Are you ready?” Jericho asked.

  Auric nodded. “I can’t believe he lied to me for all those years.”

  “Well, you need to get over it.” Jericho picked up his own pack and slung it over his shoulders. “Rill is missing. Once we’ve got her home, you and your father can go at each other’s throats for days for all I care, but for now, anything that doesn’t help us towards that goal needs to be put aside. Can you do that?”