The Gift of Magic (The Shadowmage Saga)

by Paul Sobol

  Making sure the room was otherwise unoccupied the two made their way towards the machine, which appeared to be constructed mostly out of copper. The partially revealed interior was a tangled mass of black tubes as well as a central crystalline core faintly glowing blue. Magical symbols were etched on each individual disk, and after a cursory study Silver believed the spells had something to do with movement through Time or Space. Perhaps, he thought, this was a means for the necromancer to escape.

  Footsteps approaching the door alerted the two mages, who instantly went into attack stances. Magic glowed and crackled from their hands as they prepared to obliterate whoever had come to the door, but who stood before them caused a moment of pause. A tall elderly man, with a long white beard stood in the doorway, dressed in a long black velvet robe trimmed with gold runic symbols at hem and sleeve.

  Standing passively with hands out at either side to show he was unarmed the old man took a tentative step inside the room. Maintaining an offensive stance the two magicians waited for the stranger to speak first. Although he showed no signs of hostility they could feel the unmistakable presence of dark energy, marking him most likely to be the necromancer they sought.

  “You show such uncommon bravery,” the old man spoke in a deep voice, “to come into my home uninvited. Not that you would believe me, but I mean you no harm. If I had, you would both be dead, transformed into mindless minions and under my control before having passed through the doorway.”

  The two remained silent.

  The longer the necromancer talked the more time the other magicians had to rally to their aid. With the amount of power being channelled at the moment it would be like a signal flare to the others who would know what it purported.

  “I will make you a deal. I know there are others here who could possibly hurt me, and I wish to leave before they arrive. But in order for that to happen I must have that artefact behind you. In exchange, I will give you what you seek.” Ever so slowly his hand moved towards his robe, and from a hidden pocket he produced a vial of clear liquid.

  “I hold in my hand the last remaining Aqua Vitae – the Water of Life. It is yours, just step aside and let me leave. None need be injured or killed if you do this for me.”

  “How do we know that is really the Water of Life? The source is not even on this world,” said Silver.

  “Some who come through the underground lake portal bring some unknowingly with them. I was fortunate to find such a magician several hundred years ago on that lone mountain beneath the portal, the one you would have flown by as you entered this realm. His gourd was mostly full, and when I located his frozen corpse there were no objections taking it off him.”

  For several moments Archer and Silver seriously considered the necromancer’s offer. The vial would save Alex’s life without having to waste time going back to the underground lake. And besides, gauging the necromancer it’s possible he could have swept the two aside with a single wave of his hand.

  “Place the vial on the ground and step away from it. We will then move away from the machine and you can be on your way.”

  Giving a small bow in acknowledgment of the terms, the necromancer placed the vial on the floor. His mouth slightly curled up at the ends as though secretly smiling in undisputed victory. All three magicians moved at the same time around the room until they had reversed positions. Placing his hand on the device the necromancer vanished in a flash of light.

  Picking up the vial Silver carefully opened it and took a tentative sniff. Detecting nothing out of the ordinary he still had his doubts the old man was telling the truth. Maybe as a precaution, and if time permitted, they would revisit the Temple of Air to collect the real Water of Life.

  Heading back down stairs the two mages suddenly felt powerful energy unleashed nearby. The violent disturbance in the Aether pinpointed the source as the highest room in the central tower. Athenais and Arthos. Wondering if they had accidentally come across something unexpected Silver and Archer dashed down the stairs leaving the soldiers behind to continue securing the tower.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Arthos and Athenais had felt the presence of magic coming from the second tower and knew something was wrong. It was quite likely Archer and Silver had come across the necromancer in his attempt to escape. However, if it were the necromancer the spells would have been cast instantly, followed by yet more spells in an attempt to buy time for the others to arrive. Strange indeed, perhaps it was nothing serious after all.

  Stopping on the stairwell, Athenais considered whether to investigate the incident or resume searching the tower for the missing journal. After a moments reflection he decided to continue looking for the more important book.

  Returning to the room filled with bookshelves he quickly scanned the first few rows to determine the system of order. At first it seemed random but soon noticed a difference in some of the books. Much of the writing was foreign to him, in languages unknown, but books on magic all had a certain aura when looked at using MageSight. Those that glowed purple or black were kept together, and Athenais felt repulsed even looking at them. He could practically feel the taint of Dark Magic seeping from the pages covered in red script and pictures painted with blood.

  Scanning the various shelves he came across a series of books that glowed blue and green. This was magic concerned mostly with psychic spells, elemental magic of air and water, as well as Space and Time. He tried reading the names on the spines, but for every one he identified there were two that appeared as meaningless scribble.

  After a few minutes he eventually came across a fairly new looking book, bound in simple brown leather whose pages hadn’t turned yellow with age. Judging from the wear and creases in the leather, this particular book must have been read quite a lot. And not surprisingly it glowed with a faint violet hue, as though a practitioner of the dark arts had enchanted the book, most likely against being opened by the wrong person.

  Pulling the book off the shelf Athenais became convinced that in his hands was Nolan’s missing journal. Only problem was how to remove the enchantment without destroying the book. Without a proper enchanting altar at hand there was only one way he could safely disengage the necromancer’s ward, and it was the last thing he ever wanted to use.

  Moving slowly to the middle of the room Athenais trod carefully around the dried pools of blood and gore. In the centre was a clear space, a perfect circle in fact, where the necromancer most likely sat during his spell casting. The unspeakable horrors this room has witnessed over the years could almost be felt, like a palpable wave of hatred and terror exuding from the very stones.

  Shutting out the lingering psychic energies of the unfortunate victims Athenais concentrated on the journal. Using MageSight he was able to identify the enchantments structure, and delving deeper into the matrix of dark energies located the locking mechanism. The ward was simple enough, and like any lock had its weaknesses, but something felt out of place.

  It was too easy.

  Backing off, Athenais searched around the spells construction until he found exactly what he suspected. A booby-trap. Cunningly placed in an unobtrusive part of the spell it was easily overlooked, and had he tried opening the lock no doubt something bad would have happened.

  After several moments of intense concentration the magician figured out the trap and the disarming mechanism. Using a sliver of energy, focused to be laser sharp, he neatly severed the conduit of dark power. No longer powered, the trap was effectively neutralised. Within moments the locking mechanism was breached and the violet glow of dark magic disappeared as the spell unravelled.

  Flipping through the pages Athenais was able to make out many of the designs and incantations required for magical transportation. He noticed one page had been dog-eared and flipped to it. The spell was complex and described a way of constructing a machine that created stable portals. The designs were fairly detailed but he could make out three distinct artefacts required to create the final piece.

&nb
sp; Smiling to himself he identified one of the smaller pieces as the Travelling Sceptre. The next was a series of round disks within other disks, and seated in the centre was a crystal power core. The largest component looked like a giant ring etched with a complex series of arcane runes. Together, the three pieces made one machine that would be their means of escape from this world.

  He couldn’t help but wonder if the other two machines even existed, and if so where they were. If Nolan had been captured and forced to build his artefacts here they were close to finding a way off this world. Tucking the book inside his cloak he wondered where Arthos had disappeared to. Leaving the book-filled room Athenais felt a tremendous surge of power used directly above him and, suspecting Arthos had found the Necromancer, began running up the stairs.

  The door to the highest room was ajar, light spilling out to illuminate the stairway below. Approaching the door carefully Athenais had several deadly spells readied to be unleashed instantly. The burst of power had suddenly cut off and the Aether settled down as though nothing had occurred. Using magically heightened senses, Athenais probed inside the room. Locating Arthos in the middle of the room, unconscious on the floor, there was no other detectable presence. Whatever happened to the old magician must have taken him by surprise, possibly another booby-trap.

  Pushing the door completely open, Athenais cautiously entered the room. He approached his old friend and quietly called his name, but seeing no immediate response decided to wait before attempting to help him. There was a distinct aura of dark energy in the air, and if a trap had been triggered it might still be active. He slowly walked around the room uttering an incantation. A soft blue glow filled the room, and to the magician’s sight appeared a multitude of colours.

  Finishing the spell Athenais stood back and examined the traces of magical energy that had been used. The unconscious mage was completely enveloped in a pulsating cocoon of purple energy. Streaks of crimson power crisscrossed the room, outlining a ghostly image of a protective shield laced with black and purple cracks. Arthos had indeed been ambushed; his defensive wards no match for the necromancer’s dark power, however, the fight had not been one-sided as it appeared.

  Scattered around the room were blasted remains of furniture and smouldering tatters which may have once been books. Scorch marks on the stone floor indicated one of Arthos’ offensive spells had also been triggered, which means the necromancer, had he been present in the room, could have been caught off guard by the surprise counter-attack.

  Impressed at his old friend’s resourcefulness, Athenais moved closer to investigate the nature of the purple cocoon. Obviously it was a means of incapacitation, much like a spider’s web traps insects, but how to remove the binding safely? Cautiously Athenais used a small amount of power to probe the spell but was met with resistance. Seems the cocoon did not want to give up its secrets so easily.

  Having dealt with many forms of magic the old magician took a different approach to penetrating the cocoon’s outer shell. On the floor Athenais traced magical symbols in a rough circle around the unconscious form, and as he spoke the name of each rune they softly glowed with colourful energies. With the magic circle complete the cocoon visibly weakened as sparks of blue energy crackled across its surface.

  Unable to withstand the constant bombardment of energy the dark trap fractured and broke away like an egg shell revealing the old magician within. With a start his eyes fluttered open as the magical paralysis quickly wore off, but feeling weakened he reached out for support.

  “Rest my friend, you’re safe now.”

  For a moment a look of confusion clouded his eyes, and unable to focus on the speaker the old magician merely nodded and remained lying down.

  Using a little healing magic colour slowly returned to Arthos’ features. “I’m fine, thank you; though help me to my feet.”

  From the stairwell came the sound of footsteps, and soon the room was filled with magicians and Ice Keep soldiers. With the current situation under control Athenais motioned for the soldiers to wait outside.

  Quietly he spoke to the newly arrived magicians regarding what he had witnessed and included the discovery of Nolan’s journal in the library below. Silver described the encounter with the necromancer in the other tower and the showdown with the artefact. At mention of this Athenais became very concerned. “If the necromancer had escaped the Fortress with the ringed artefact he certainly knew about our attempt to create a portal. It’s as though he knows our every move and anticipates our next course of action.”

  “If the artefact is necessary how do we track down the necromancer to retrieve it?” Archer asked.

  “I do not know,” replied Athenais, “he could be anywhere on this planet. However, there is something here he does not have and that is the Travelling Sceptre. The control crystal inside is required to complete the portal machine, and without it he cannot escape this world. Unfortunately without his device we are likewise stranded here.”

  “No, we’re not,” Arthos said from where stood propped up against a wall, “I have everything needed back at the Keep. Nolan was in the process of completing his machine when he was taken, his journal will help us finish the project.”

  “We must return to the Keep with all haste. Arthos, are you able to teleport us back?”

  “Unfortunately my encounter with the necromancer’s trap has weakened me significantly.”

  “We will then require one of the soldiers to aid us in returning. Without someone familiar with the Keep it would be dangerous for us to attempt to teleport inside.”

  Within a few minutes the small group disappeared from the Fortress’ tower, reappearing instantaneously in the main dining hall of the Ice Keep. After a few quiet words Arthos sent the commandeered soldier away. To a nearby page boy he requested an escort for the group of magicians to a suitable place where they could relax and refresh themselves. Before leaving the group Arthos asked for Nolan’s journal, and with the leather bound book in hand quickly disappeared down the corridor after the dismissed soldier to finish the portal machine.

  “You don’t need any help?” Athenais called after the retreating magician, but getting no response simply shrugged and followed the page boy to a nearby room.

  Relaxing on soft couches they grazed half-heartedly from platters of fruits and cheeses brought in for them. Even the modest vintage of wine couldn’t lighten the mood as each person in the room wondered how the construction was progressing.

  Several hours later another boy appeared to show the group of magicians outside to the courtyard. In the middle of the space was a tall stone ring resting on a pedestal. Around its edges were carved various complicated magical designs, and at the bottom near the pedestal was an assortment of wires and crystals looking to be part of some other machine.

  Nearing the artefact Silver noticed a series of circular disks incorporated into the jumble of wires. At first glance it appeared to be similar in design to the artefact taken by the necromancer, but something about the large metallic object seemed out of place. Dismissing this minor feeling of doubt, Silver turned his attention to Arthos who was trying to explain how the machine was supposed to work.

  Reading from the journal Arthos spoke about the various components of the three main artefacts that, when combined, was able to create a stable portal to practically anywhere. The last component was the Travelling Sceptre, and with a flourish Athenais produce the crystal-studded gold rod. Located somewhere in the head of the sceptre was the master control crystal that enabled the machine to target any place the operator was familiar with.

  With the head of the sceptre removed and placed within a cavity of the ringed machine, Arthos went about connecting several wires according to a schematic drawn in the journal. He methodically rearranged a few more pieces until, with a small triumphant cry, he announced to all it was finally complete.

  Standing back, Arthos read from the journal, and speaking the initializing incantation made a series of motions with his fr
ee hand. The magical sigils around the stone ring began to glow, and when the old magician finished speaking a shimmering void appeared within the space. Those surrounding the machine could only marvel at the sight as the stable portal was created. At last they were able to leave this world.

  Closing the book, and with a huge sigh of relief, Arthos turned to the small group of magician. The corners of his mouth arched slightly as he smiled, and with a wave of his hand sent forth a burst of purple energy. Laughing, Arthos cast a protective barrier around the portal machine as a rain of arrows suddenly filled the air. The projectiles hit the shield and fell harmlessly to the ground. In response the magician cast bolts of lightning into the rows of soldiers.

  Chaos reigned as bodies were flung around like rag-dolls. Spells crackled against the shield as the other magicians recovered from the initial attack, but Arthos simply laughed, and from his outstretched hand a wave of purple and black energy spewed forth like psychedelic lava. Everyone touched by the liquid magic became paralysed. Weakened and drained of power, magicians and soldier’s alike fell limp to the ground.

  Turning to the portal Arthos tossed aside the journal and stepped towards the machine. Approaching the void his white coat turned black and his hair grew longer and whiter. The old man who approached the portal machine was none other than the necromancer, and with a last glance back he crossed the threshold, smiling in victory.

  The dark magic dissolved as the source of their power was no longer present, and as the magicians got to their feet the portal winked out of existence.

  “Should we go after him?” Archer asked.