This Dark Mirror

by Tricia Owens

  It wasn’t like forming Life, weaving the beautiful tendrils of energy into a glowing web of power. This energy fought him and snapped at him. It was like grabbing snakes and the comparison made Hadrian shudder with fear. But he persevered because he could not let Caled become a victim of his father’s wrath again.

  Teeth gritted, he bent the malicious energy to his will, weaving it into a writhing tapestry of magick. It fought constantly to unravel, and Hadrian struggled to control it.

  “He used his own life force to amplify his energy.”

  Jessyd’s outlandish story about Gavedon leaped into Hadrian’s head. Could Gavedon have truly done such a thing? He didn’t have the time to question the ridiculousness of the claim or why he dared try to emulate it. He was desperate. He imagined reaching inside his chest with his hand, the limb melting through flesh and bone and grasping the golden light in the center of his being. To his amazement, he felt something, an unpleasant tug that immediately made him cringe.

  “Master, help me!” Syellen shrieked.

  “Lio!” Gam yelled.

  The agony of his companions compelled Hadrian to keep going despite the distressing certainty that he was pulling out the root of himself. Somehow he had done the impossible and gripped his own life energy just as Gavedon had. Pride lent him courage. He pulled more of his calmer life force energy and used it to soothe the ragged, whipping ends of Gavedon’s dark curse so he could weave them together. The process weakened him, as if he’d opened a vital vein. He knew he had but scant seconds to see this done before he collapsed. With a yell of fury, he wrapped the magickal tapestry that he had created around his helpless friends, bundling them and their horses like a precious gift wrapped in a knapsack.

  He couldn’t lift them to safety, but he could lower them. Hadrian had to hope that Gavedon didn’t expect them to make it past this Cast, and that he’d left the underground tunnel at the base of the cliffs unguarded. At any rate, lowering his friends was the only option left to Hadrian in his weakened state. He would have to risk it.

  With his groans of pain swallowed by the mournful wail of Gavedon’s dark sorcery, Hadrian lifted his friends into the air. He could see their fearful faces staring out as they were hefted, knowing that to their untrained eyes they would believe they were suspended above the canyon floor by nothing more than air. They didn’t see the glowing threads of energy Hadrian had weaved around them and was trying desperately to keep intact with greater and greater effort. Maybe that was for the best.

  Dragged to his knees once again by Gavedon’s sorcery, he watched his own magickal creation disappear down the side of the cliff face. He crawled to the edge and lay sprawled on his stomach as he followed the progress of his companions. Grimacing, he tried to control their landing. But with sweat streaming down his temples and stinging his eyes, he lost control when they were but a few feet above the ground. The magickal net burst apart and flew into the air like fireflies released from a jar. The horses hit the ground hard—so did his companions—but whinnying and curses meant that they were alive.

  He was not as confident about his own chances. The tenor of the magick attacking him was changing. That could never be good. He rolled onto his back. His eyes widened as he saw a black portal beginning to form above him. He could guess where that portal led—straight to his father. Gavedon wanted his son.

  Here was the confrontation that was supposed to end everything and put Juxtan to right. But Hadrian couldn’t meet his father in this weakened condition. Gavedon would kill him in a heartbeat and if the lifebond didn’t do its job, Caled would surely be next when Gavedon hunted the mercenary down.

  No, when Hadrian met his father, he would do so with the power to stand up to Gavedon ni Leyanon. Not like this.

  Black spots filled his vision as he struggled to rise to hands and knees. He curled his gloved fingers over the cliff edge. He could tell he’d pulled too much energy from his own life force. He was sick with exhaustion, his body beginning to chill as his blood slowed and retracted from his skin to keep his heart beating. Gavedon’s stinging lashes inflicted more damage as Hadrian became weaker. If he endured anymore, he would die here.

  He might still die here.

  As the portal above him yawned wide to swallow him, Hadrian rolled wearily over the edge of the cliff. He fell, boneless, his cloak flapping around him like the broken wings of an injured raven. He closed his eyes as the canyon walls closed over him and he reached one last time for energy, hoping to fashion something to cushion his fall.

  The strands slipped through his nerveless fingers, useless.

  Seconds later he smashed into something that wasn’t the ground. The air exploded from his lungs. Agony snapped through his chest.

  As blackness pulled him down into unconsciousness, someone grunted, "Caught you."

  Chapter Six

  "Great catch, Jessyd!"

  Gam and Lio leaped past Caled to check on Hadrian, whose limp body was slowly being lowered to the ground by invisible forces. Try as he might, Caled could see nothing supporting the unconscious sorcerer, yet magick clearly had broken what would otherwise have been a fatal fall from the cliff.

  "Excellent," Manix murmured, pausing to pat Jessyd on the shoulder before joining the others in carefully turning Hadrian’s limp body supine. Jessyd’s face, though shiny with sweat, reflected pride at his efforts.

  "Is he alive?" Caled managed through a throat that had gone bone-dry. He took a step backward from the group. Then another.

  "Yes," Syellen declared as she held her fingers to Hadrian’s throat. Her hand trembled. Perhaps she alone, with her distaste of sorcerers, shared something of what Caled felt in this moment.

  "Are we safe here?" Caled’s voice sounded strained to his own ears.

  Manix broke from his survey of Hadrian to look up at the cliffs. The Elder’s forehead creased. "Although I do not know for a certainty, I would assume that if we have not yet been attacked, then the trap has sprung and closed. But we should not let down our guards."

  "I hadn’t intended to," Caled said sharply.

  Manix’s black eyes slid to him, studying him. Caled tensed beneath that thoughtful, assessing look. But the Elder didn’t say another word, instead turning back to Hadrian.

  Caled released a breath and took another step away from where the others huddled around the black-haired sorcerer. He needed the distance. He felt his self-control unraveling. He was seized with a manic urge to draw his sword and slice the air with it. He wanted to sink the blade into something tangible. He needed a target on which to vent his emotions.

  Instead of drawing his sword he rubbed his hands briskly up and down his arms. The taint of magick clung to his skin like a filthy, disease-ridden blanket. He cursed beneath his breath, imagining he could feel it seeping into his pores and contaminating his blood. He wanted to dive into water and scrub himself raw. He had to resist the urge to grab fistfuls of dirt and use it in lieu of soap.

  "Caled, are you alright?" Unlike the others gathered around Hadrian, Gam was looking straight at him with concern.

  He tried not to snarl. "I’m fine."

  But he was not fine. His fingers twitched, yearning to scratch at the magick he thought he felt crawling up his chest. He wanted to hurl himself to the ground and roll like a horse to get it off of him.

  Gam watched him fidget for a few seconds. With a murmur to Lio—who was pale and silent as he bent over Hadrian—the scarred thief left the group and approached the mercenary. "You’re not fine."

  Caled gnashed his teeth together. "I. Cannot. Stand. Magick! Is that plain enough for you? I detest it to my core!" His fingernails dug into his biceps as he remembered the unnatural slither of magickal energy over his skin. It made him want to let loose a roar of disgust.

  "But Hadrian fought it—"

  "With magick," Caled ground out from between gritted teeth. "That’s no better."

  The memories he’d seen in the walls of the Glass Fall battered at his mind. In ev
ery smooth surface he’d seen Hadrian standing amid the flames, surrounded by death while he coldly called down more. "That was the same magick he used in Rhiad. The same he used to kill every last—"

  "He didn’t do that here!" Gam cut in. The thief cast a quick look over his shoulder at the others before grabbing Caled by the arm and steering him a short distance away. "He just saved your ungrateful arse, in case you didn’t notice. He saved all of us and now he’s half dead for trying! Rhiad is done, Caled. It’s over. Hadrian is a sorcerer and you’ve got to accept that sooner or later!" Gam shook his head before tapping his eyepatch. "He can’t help what he is, but he can help what he does. Lio and I have taken his measure and we trust him. We have just as much reason to be wary as you do. But we trust him. Mayhap we’re fools but I don’t think so."

  Behind Gam, Manix had propped Hadrian upright. The sorcerer was deathly pale and appeared only semi-conscious, his silver eyes only crescents beneath the weary swoop of his lashes. He looked dead, if truth be told. He looked the way Caled imagined he would after he’d run Hadrian through with his sword after killing Gavedon. Or after Caled had stabbed him, believing him to be Lyelin. Caled’s stomach heaved.

  With his eyes locked on Hadrian’s unresponsive face, he said. "Magick haunts my nightmares, Gam. When I sense it—when I feel its touch—I lose my mind. I go mad. The cursed stuff has ruined my life. It’s set me on a path I never wanted to walk." He dropped his eyes to his friend, seeking understanding. "I work for coin. I kill. I’ve done it often enough. But not like this. Not with this hate in my heart, not with the blood veil over my eyes that drapes everything I see in a fog of vengeance. This is personal. I never thought it would steal so much of me. That it would change me like this."

  His voice wavered. He was mortified to discover he was shaking. He looked away, ashamed to have revealed a weakness, but Gam placed his palm flat over Caled’s heart.

  "You’re not the man Lio and I once knew," the thief agreed sadly. "Your laughter is gone. Your brow is dark. Rhiad killed you, too, in its own way."

  Caled firmed his jaw, seeking strength within himself. "I live. The responsibility is mine to find revenge."

  Gam’s voice softened. "Have you mourned for Tye and the others yet?"

  Caled glared at him. "Tears won’t bring about their vengeance."

  Gam rolled his hazel eye. "Lio and I wept like babes when our eyes were lost. You lost even more—you lost your friends. You lost Tye and Isalyn—"

  "Tears won’t bring them back," Caled said, but the back of his throat burned.

  Gam’s face dropped. "Then I’m sorry for you."

  Caled released the tight grip he had on himself, irritated that he’d been so shaken. One blade would see them all through this alive, and it was his. He was this group’s sole defender and he needed to project confidence to keep the others brave.

  "I don’t need your pity," he said firmly. "Hate is to be expected. I’ll learn to live with it."

  "But why must you?" Gam challenged, his face scrunching. "Since Lio and I met up with you after you returned from Fang Hook we’ve seen the change in you. Something happened to you at those cliffs. It opened you. We can see you returning to us, Caled. You grow more like your old self every day. The more you soften toward Hadrian, the more you find your smile. Why must that be wrong? Vengeance toward Hadrian’s father doesn’t have to destroy you. You were a good drinking partner. We don’t want to lose you."

  "Of course you would care only about the drinking," Caled accused.

  Gam grinned widely, but his hand remained on the mercenary’s chest. "We miss our friend, Caled. Lio and I understand why you made your vow. It shows the type of man you are. But being that man has come with a price and you’ve been paying for it dearly. I think your last coin has run out, my friend. Vengeance doesn’t discriminate. It will ruin all of you."

  "Gavedon won’t walk free—"

  Gam quickly shook his head. "You’ve marked two for death, and three will die. But that can change. It can be only one who falls at the end."

  Only one. Only Gavedon. Hadrian could walk free after doling out death to hundreds. A bead of sweat slid down Caled’s spine.

  "There is a guilt to be shared in this," he argued, looking to Hadrian again. Startled, he found the younger man’s silver gaze watching him in return. Hadrian looked as though he would pass out at any moment, but for the time being his eyes were fixed on Caled with what the mercenary could only call entreaty. Hadrian knew what Caled was feeling, and Hadrian was rightly afraid of it. "He used his magick to kill them, Gam."

  "And he used his magick to save us just now. I suggest you learn to separate the magick from the man, Caled." The thief glanced at Hadrian, too. "If every time he uses his power you seek to draw his blood, there will be three bodies by mission’s end. That I promise you."

  "Perhaps that’s what is destined."

  Gam’s head whipped around, his eye patch tilting slightly as he scowled. "Since when do you believe in prophecy? Whether you both live or die is because you will it. It’s your blade that will either stab the ground or stab his heart."

  Caled smirked slightly at his friend’s passion, but he agreed with Gam. Caled didn’t believe in destiny or prophecy. He chose his own fate. He was responsible for his own misfortunes, just as falling for Hadrian in Rhiad had brought about this. It was his fault, and he would set it to right. Or accept it.

  He reached over and ruffled Gam’s already wild chestnut hair. The thief twisted out of his reach, annoyed.

  "Tell me how you and Lio managed to keep your spirits up after losing your eyes," Caled asked quietly. He had met the thieves long after they’d been cursed and therefore hadn’t inquired too deeply into the incident. "How can you not fear Hadrian, even a little bit?"

  Gam touched his scarred cheek and smiled bitterly. "Being cursed by sorcery isn’t the worse thing that’s happened to us. Not if we survived it. What’s the use in fearing Hadrian if we can’t do anything to stop him?" Gam shrugged. "Life is short for a thief. Drink and be merry. That’s what we say."

  Caled smiled slightly. "I should become a thief."

  Gam didn’t return the smile. "You should become your old self. The old Caled would have wept for lost friends and been healed by it."

  "And he wouldn’t have the strength to do what I’m doing now," Caled replied tiredly.

  ~~~~~

  Hadrian watched Caled speak with Gam and couldn’t help the dread he felt. Caled was upset with him for magicking. Hadrian could understand that emotion after what the mercenary had suffered at Rhiad, but magicking wasn’t something Hadrian could change. He was a sorcerer. Using magick was the only thing he knew how to do. It was his only strength, if it could be called such when previously he had used it only to cause destruction.

  "It’ll be alright," Lio said softly beside him. Hadrian looked worriedly at the green-eyed thief. "Gam will talk sense into him. You’ll see."

  Hadrian couldn’t pretend to be as assured as the thief. He thought he would be ill if he had the strength to be. As it was, he could barely keep his eyes open. He wished for nothing more than to sleep, and if he were fortunate, to not wake again.

  "While rest is what you desperately require, I am afraid we do not possess the time to give it to you," Manix said from behind him. The Elder’s sure hands held Hadrian sitting upright when he would have collapsed backward. Manix’s warm voice filled his ear: "What you did was very brave, Hadrian. You are your father’s equal in strength, no matter what you believe otherwise."

  "His equal in dark sorcery," Syellen said, hovering nearby and unable to disguise the distaste in her voice or expression.

  "Such sorcery saved us," Manix reminded her gently. "Do not be quick to judge, Syellen."

  "You pulled from yourself."

  Hadrian raised his eyes reluctantly. Jessyd squatted beside his legs, the other sorcerer’s brown gaze on him. Of them all, Jessyd looked the least thankful for what Hadrian had done. Was he upset that
Gavedon’s trap had been foiled? Had Jessyd therefore failed, too?

  "I don’t know what you’re talking about," Hadrian said.

  Jessyd laid a hand upon his thigh and if Hadrian had the strength, he would have shook it off him. "I know what you did," Jessyd pressed, his dark brows twitching together. "There wasn’t enough energy here to do what you did, which means you took it from yourself. Just like Gavedon did."

  Hadrian seethed with resentment at the implication. "I’m nothing like Gavedon.” When Jessyd continued to look skeptical, Hadrian went on the offensive. “What of that trap? You knew it was waiting for us all along. You led us directly into it."

  Jessyd quickly shook his head when Manix, Syellen, and Lio turned to scrutinize him. "How could I have predicted a rockslide closing the path? I would have been killed alongside the rest of you if you hadn’t saved us, Hadrian. What fool would willingly walk to his own death?"

  "One who worships Gavedon?" Lio suggested quietly, his single green eye unblinking.

  Jessyd made a face of disgust. "I may not be a whore any longer, but I haven’t forgotten the lesson of being one. I look after myself, first. I worship no man to the point I’d sacrifice my life for him." He squeezed Hadrian’s knee again. "How could I be in league with Gavedon? If you hadn’t done what no one knew you could do I would be dead right now. Don’t you see that?"

  To Hadrian’s frustration, he did. He didn’t think Jessyd the type to throw his own life away to further the cause of the Order. Jessyd was too selfish for that. And there was no possible way for Jessyd to have survived that trap on his own. Was there?

  "Gavedon knew we would follow him," Syellen mused aloud. “Just as you said.” She looked fearfully to the dark mouth of the caves mere feet from where they gathered. "If he set that trap without you knowing about, there might be another inside that passageway."

  "Not if he believed he would succeed up on the cliffs," Jessyd argued. His dark curls were in disarray around his face. He looked as frazzled as the others, and Hadrian didn’t like that he was beginning to believe the other sorcerer’s innocence. "He has no reason to believe he’d fail. We would all be dead were it not for Hadrian’s trick just now. Gavedon would have no reason to expect us to make it this far."