Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2)

by Foster, Brian W.

  “So the person would no longer be a mage?” she said.

  He shook his head. “The tube—which all people, magic user or no, have—carries life force as well.”

  One could die from trying to heal people? The risk would have been worth it to save Emry, but she hadn’t even tried. Tears leaked from her eyes again. “Please excuse me.”

  She fled. Before she even realized where she was going, her fist rapped on a door, and seconds later, it swung inward to reveal Xan. Her tears flowed, and sobs escaped.

  “Tasia! Why are you crying?”

  Her tears choked away words. Long arms wrapped around her, and she buried her face in his chest.

  Xan pulled her inside, and the door shut behind them. They stood like that for quite some time until her weeping faded, and he finally let go—reluctantly on his part? Or was that just in her imagination?

  He stepped back. His face sported a nasty purple bruise and an egg-shaped lump over his right eye.

  “What happened?” She pushed him to the bed to examine the injury.

  “It’s nothing.”

  Why was it men would rather die than admit weakness? She tilted his head to get a better look at his eyes. “Do you have a headache? Are you nauseous? Blurred vision? Dizziness?”

  Xan spit out a sullen “no.”

  “How did this happen?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She sighed and sat in the chair opposite him. “Please?”

  His face reddened, and he turned away from her. “I decided to observe the actions of the enemy mages from as close as possible, so I went to the wall.”

  She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Did a stone chip hit you? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I treated dozens of those wounds today.”

  He set his jaw and muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Tell me.”

  He burst to his feet and faced away from her. “I fell, okay? I didn’t make it two steps up the ladder, much less to the parapet.”

  A barked laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth. He spun, his face a mask of pain.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ve had the worst day …” Her voice choked.

  Xan rushed to her and put his arms around her. “What is it?”

  Frustration poured from her as she told him about Emry and her talk with Lucan.

  “Teach me,” she said.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. The duke—”

  “Have you been forbidden from teaching me?”

  “No,” he said. “But—”

  “Then you let me worry about breaking my uncle’s rules.”

  He let out a long breath. “Close your eyes and clear your mind.”

  She chuckled, and he stared at her with an annoyed expression.

  “You sounded exactly like a hokey psychic at the spring carnival,” she said.

  He walked her through a frustrating process of trying to find the magic source, but the reward was worth the effort. Sweet, invigorating power filled her. She stared at him and concentrated. His bruise faded, and after a few seconds, no trace remained.

  Tasia wanted to run her fingers over the spot. Instead, she cleared her throat. “I should be going.” As she started to turn to leave, she rushed back to him and kissed him on the cheek.

  He sat as stiff as a wood carving. She shouldn’t have done that. He was engaged. To her cousin.

  Awkwardness stretched between them. She had to say something. “You have no idea how much your teaching means to me. Thank you.”

  She dashed out the door.

  In the corridor well away from his room, she stopped to gather herself. Her face warmed thinking back to the feel of Xan’s touch and her lips on his skin.

  She really shouldn’t have done that. But it’d be fine. As long as Ashley didn’t find out, everything would be fine.

  71.

  Tasia crept from the castle.

  Hopefully, no one had seen her enter. Why had she gone to Xan? Lucan could have taught her. Or Brant. Anyone but Xan.

  She sighed. Best to put it out of her mind. Get back to the hospital. Check the patients one last time before dinner and bed.

  “Tasia!”

  Oh no. She shut her eyes for a moment before turning around. “Ashley. How are you?”

  Ashley narrowed her eyes. “You look odd. What’s wrong?”

  It wasn’t like Tasia had done anything wrong. She hadn’t really kissed Xan. But Ashley wouldn’t see it that way. Worse, she’d blame him just as much. Would she cancel the wedding?

  If only Tasia had chosen someone else to train her.

  Ashley grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a deserted sideyard. “Have you been crying?”

  Tasia stuttered a few times before she said, “Emry died.”

  “Who?”

  “A soldier. Someone I knew.”

  Ashley huffed. “That’s what they’re paid to do.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  Ashley turned away. “It’s easier to think of them that way. It’s a lot better than, ‘Hey, Father and I sent over a hundred good men to their deaths today.’”

  “I wish I could …” Tasia paused. “I try. I really do. It was seeing someone I know.” A tear streaked down her cheek.

  “Hey! None of that. Our army carried the day,” Ashley said. “No raping and pillaging for the enemy.”

  Tasia tried to smile, but she could only put half her heart into it. At least Ashley hadn’t asked her about Xan.

  “You still look like you did that time you absolutely ruined my favorite ribbon by using it as a bandage.” Ashley said. “What did you do?”

  Tasia exhaled hard. Why was she so bad at concealing anything? The right thing was to confess. Wasn’t it? That was what Tender Morris would tell her to do.

  But to condemn Xan for something she did?

  “You’ve been using magic, haven’t you?” Ashley said.

  Tasia blinked. “Y-yes.”

  Ashley put her hands on her hips. “Let me guess—someone suffering just broke your heart, and you had to do something about it.”

  Tasia nodded.

  “Did anyone see you?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Tasia nodded again.

  “Listen to me,” Ashley said. “You absolutely must not use any more magic.”

  “Lucan did.”

  “He was circumspect, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” Ashley said. “Besides, he won’t be allowed to do that anymore. Or to counter the enemy death mages.”

  “That’s stupid! Why—”

  “Tasia! Father’s duchy is more important than the lives of a few soldiers.”

  “Is the situation that dire? I thought we were winning. And if it’s that bad, don’t we need Lucan more than ever?”

  “We are winning. That’s the problem.”

  Huh?

  “There has been no visible evidence of Truna using mages,” Ashley said. “If you or Lucan or Xan or anyone else on our side is witnessed, Father could be executed!”

  Tasia grimaced. She hadn’t thought of that.

  “Promise me,” Ashley said, “that you won’t do anything stupid.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good.” Ashley smiled. “Now, go and sin no more.”

  Tasia offered a weak smile in return.

  How could she ever face all those patients knowing she had the power to help them but wasn’t allowed to?

  72.

  Justav clung to the shadows.

  Why hadn’t the boy visited the hospital yet? The blond girl was there. The old man was there.

  Only three days until Duke Asher’s reinforcements arrived. That left only tomorrow to kill his mages in preparation of Duke Irdrin’s attack.

  Justav snarled. Too bad it was too conspicuous to have his men wait with him or he’d have been able to take out the traitor. The boy, a
t least, didn’t have guards.

  The sun waned. Might as well leave. With almost everyone gone, the boy wasn’t likely to show.

  A figure moving behind a window caught Justav’s eye. The old man. Maybe the visit wouldn’t be a total waste. Yes.

  The old man had been behind delaying Justav back in Eagleton. Had helped the boy escape. Justav opened himself to the magic. No other lives nearby. No witnesses.

  The old man was near the end anyway. Life force trickled into him. So easy to drain it.

  Energy fled from the old man’s body. He lurched forward, clutching at his chest and wheezing until finally collapsing onto the floor, lifeless.

  Justav smiled. Time to be proactive instead of waiting for the boy to venture from the castle. Time to set a trap. Humming, he walked away from the setting sun.

  73.

  Sweat dampened Xan’s clothes despite the cool temperature.

  He rubbed sleep from his eyes, but visions from his dream still intruded on reality. The memory of Tasia’s lips on his was entirely too vivid and the sight of her body entirely too real.

  Tasia? He shouldn’t be thinking of her that way.

  Ashley, on the other hand … His face heated. It wouldn’t be long until their wedding night.

  Of course, there were still obstacles to overcome, but things were going better than he could have imagined. The military situation would be resolved in a couple of days, and he’d been able to keep his corps’ magic use a complete secret. Asher’s only logical course was to maintain, even increase, his mages while quietly lobbying the queen for official sanction.

  Xan exhaled sharply. Should he have taught Tasia? Surely, she wouldn’t openly use magic.

  No. If he had to worry, it was about Brant.

  Xan just needed to keep things together for two more days, and he’d be on his way to marrying his dream girl. He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes.

  A soft but urgent series of knocks urged him from bed to open the door. “Lainey? What are you doing here?” Hadn’t she left with Dylan days ago? And why were her eyes red and teary? “What’s wrong?”

  She charged past him and collapsed onto his chair.

  “What is it?” His heart pounded.

  “I have to be the one to tell you, but I don’t want to.” Her raw voice barely rose above a whisper.

  Despite being only five when his dad died, Xan had never forgotten the look on Master Diwen’s face when he broke the news. “Who?”

  She met his eyes for a moment before dropping her gaze to the floor. “Master Rae.”

  All strength fled him, and he slumped onto his bed. “I just saw him. He was fine.”

  “Tasia said it looked like a heart attack.”

  “Are they sure? Sometimes he sleeps really hard. I remember one time when I was trying to wake him and …”

  “I’m so sorry.” Gasping sobs interspersed her words.

  Xan clutched his arms tight to his chest in a fruitless attempt to hold himself together, and she attacked him with a smothering hug. He tried to shove her away but could muster no strength. She clung harder against his feeble thrusts. A yell came out as a moan.

  There was still so much left to do, so many dangers still ahead. Who was going to advise him? Keep him from making stupid mistakes? Give him that little hint to put him on the right path?

  He slumped into her, and a dam broke inside him. The tears flowed.

  As soon as he was able—and he had no idea how long he cried—he ended the humiliating show of emotion and disentangled himself. “I have to see.”

  She offered to go with him, but he begged her off. It took another fifteen minutes to push her from the room, though he didn’t begrudge the time lost. Until he saw, there could be some doubt of the truth.

  He changed into the first wrinkled, dirty trousers and tunic his hands found and trudged to the hospital.

  Tasia met him at the door. “Xan, I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you myself but Lainey thought—”

  He hugged her, and hot tears slid down his face. “I …” His voice choked. They embraced for a moment before he released. “C-can I see him?”

  “I had them wait for you. Do you want me to go with you?”

  He shook his head.

  Tasia led him to a corridor off the main room and set him off in the right direction. As he descended to the first step, she grabbed his hand. “Are you sure you want to do this alone?”

  He nodded.

  At the bottom of the stairs, each footfall dragged longer and covered less distance than the last, but the inevitable could not be staved off forever. When he finally reached the door, he felt an absurd impulse to knock.

  Master Rae’s body lay with his hands crossed over his chest. He looked natural, like he simply slept, like a shout would wake him.

  More tears welled in Xan’s eyes as he lumbered to the bed and knelt. “I never thanked you for the money and the instructions for using magic. For teaching me potions. I wouldn’t be half the man I am without you.”

  A fresh wave of sadness threatened to overtake him, and he turned his head to gather himself. Minutes passed before he again faced Master Rae.

  “I’m in the middle of a war with allies I can’t trust and a strong enemy in front of me. I need you.” The tears wouldn’t be held back. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

  Xan remained bent over his mentor until his knees throbbed in protest. How long had he knelt weeping like a child? What would Master Rae say about him lolling about when there was work to be done?

  Do something productive. Stop wasting time. Xan could almost hear his mentor’s voice. The ends of his mouth upturned slightly at the thought.

  Xan got directions to the workshop and found a stack of requests for potions. Hours passed as he lost himself in the work, chopping and measuring and mixing. It felt good, helping people while honoring his master.

  Was it the last time he’d ever prepare potions?

  A doctor entered and asked what he was doing. Xan gestured at a paper on the table in front of him.

  “You worked for him?” the doctor said not unkindly.

  Xan nodded as he bunched a pile of lockweed and cut it into small ovals.

  “The hospital can’t accept work performed by a journeyman without the master directly supervising. You’re wasting valuable ingredients.”

  “I have my letter.” Xan distributed the herb into five vials.

  The doctor eyed him from head to foot. “You seem young.”

  Xan capped the bottles. “Nonetheless.” He held each over a candle for a moment before giving it a shake. “There. You’ll find these perfect.”

  He flipped the order and looked at the next request. Before he could start mixing it, however, he felt a flow of magic to the east, too close to be outside the city. The only thing in that direction was Asherton’s slums. Why would anyone be using magic there?

  Why would anyone be using magic at all?

  Probably that idiot, Brant. With his concussion, he’d been ordered off the wall for the day. Must have decided to slip off to practice. Didn’t he understand how important Asher’s command was? He was going to get them all killed.

  With a sigh, Xan put aside the orders.

  74.

  Brant’s head pounded.

  He stepped from the shadow cast by the castle wall. His opponent squinted against the sun. Brant grinned and feinted left.

  What did the stupid doctors know anyway? Keeping him from the wall because of a stupid headache!

  The blue-and-gold-liveried soldier took the bait, swinging his waster hard. Brant danced to the right and struck. His practice sword thwacked the man’s kidney.

  The man collapsed to the grass. As he crawled from the ring to join his buddies, a smattering of applause came from numerous onlookers.

  Brant bowed briefly before catching the eye of a pretty brunette servant girl. She smiled and dipped toward him in a mini curtsy. Her low cut blouse swung down revealing a vast expanse of clea
vage.

  No, she didn’t exist solely for his pleasure. She’d have fun, too.

  She bounced to him and handed him a cup of water. “Well done, my lord.”

  Brant subtly flexed his bicep as he took a sip. “The hardest part was watching my opponent instead of looking at you.” He tilted his head for the sun to catch his eye.

  The girl sighed. “I heard tell you were one of the Lady Ashley’s suitors.”

  Brant gritted his teeth. “Not anymore.” He wasn’t conceding to the asshole until the tender said the final words, but the servant girl didn’t need to know that.

  “Perhaps, then, you might want someone to show you around the castle.” She traced his arm with her fingers. “Or perhaps, you might need someone to ease the knots from your shoulders.”

  He grinned. “That’s the best offer I’ve had today. What’s your name, and where’s your room?”

  “Gracie, my lord,” she said before giving him directions.

  Someone cleared a throat, and he glanced back to find Dylan.

  Brant watched as she walked away, her hips swaying suggestively. “I thought you left days ago.”

  Dylan shrugged. “She wouldn’t leave.” He nodded toward Mari, waiting in the shade. “Listen, do you know of any places that are … uh, private to, uh, be alone with a girl? Like somewhere public but, you know … private.”

  “You dog! Good for you.”

  “Not to do that! Just, you know, to be alone.” Dylan’s face reddened. “So? Do you?”

  “Hmmm.” Brant grinned. “There’s a nice garden just around the corner. Not many people go there what with the battles and all. The south corner behind the rose bushes is a great spot.”

  “Thanks, man.” Dylan slunk away.

  “Have fun!” Brant yelled. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

  Dylan turned and glared before departing with Mari.

  Brant laughed. Maybe he should follow his friend’s example and go find Gracie. But he needed more sword practice. Two weeks on the road had made him rusty.