Light Mage

by Laurie Forest

  Fastlines as beautiful as my new fastmate.

  I glance up at Tobias in wonder. He smiles at me, and I feel like I’m suddenly floating on a cloud.

  I never want this moment to end.

  I’m in a giddy, flustered daze as our parents gently guide us away from each other and toward our new seats. My attention remains riveted on Tobias, who’s now sandwiched between his parents at the other end of the long pew and has gone back to drumming a rhythm on his seat.

  The priest reads his closing remarks and says the final prayer, and we all rise as delighted conversation swells. Father and Mother Eliss lead me over to Tobias and his family, briefly sharing congratulations with Tobias’s powerful father and elegant mother, proud smiles on all the adults’ faces. A warm flush of excitement stings my face as Tobias boldly stares at me, his mouth set in a crooked grin.

  Then Tobias leaves with his parents, and I watch him go, wishing I could follow. Before he exits the cathedral, he turns and our eyes meet one last, thrilling time as he gives me an enticing smile.

  He’ll kiss me someday, I breathlessly muse. And all the stars will light up in the sky.

  An insistent tug on my tunic sleeve breaks into my romantic haze. I turn to find Gwynnifer Croft standing close and staring at me with big, pale green eyes.

  “Sagellyn Gaffney,” she says with ominous gravity. “I have something to give you.”

  Chapter 4: The White Wand

  “The White Wand seeks you out,” Gwynnifer says with great import, her focus singular, as if we’re suddenly the only two people in the room.

  I stare at the toy wand sheathed at her side as my affinity sparks to life with a buzzing prickle along my wand hand. “Pardon?”

  “I had a dream about you, Sagellyn. The Wand wants to go to you.”

  I stare at Gwynnifer for a long moment, thrown by her bizarre statement, then cautiously look toward Mother Eliss. She’s intently listening to what Father is saying to Gwynnifer’s rose-cheeked, rotund mother and her gray-haired, bespectacled father, who has four Mage stripes marking his tunic. Gwynnifer’s father is a skilled wandmaker for our military and in charge of the largest armory in Gardneria.

  An armory stuffed to the brim with wands.

  I turn back to Gwynnifer, a familiar longing rising inside me to have a wand of my own, along with anxiety that we’ll get into trouble. “I’m not allowed to play wand games,” I caution her. “Mother Eliss says it’s sacrilege for girls to play with wands, even toy ones.”

  Gwynnifer’s voice hushes to a near whisper, her expression full of drama. “This is no game, Sagellyn. Valgard has become dangerous. Shadow forces are rising. I’ve dreamt of glamoured demons on the streets. Two of them. Searching.” She pats the toy wand at her side. “Searching for this. The Wand needs to escape. It wants to go with you. Back to Halfix.”

  Surprise bursts into being inside me as I’m reminded of the strange dream my sister Clover had a few weeks ago—a dream in which the sacred White Wand strove to get to me before demons could get hold of it. A tremor of unease rises, but I shake it off, realizing these oddly similar dreams must be a bizarre coincidence and nothing more. And Gwynnifer might be strangely theatrical, but she doesn’t seem mean or mocking, unlike many of the girls here.

  And she’s offering me a wand.

  I glance toward my parents, who are paying absolutely no attention to us whatsoever. My heart picks up its rhythm as I stare covetously at Gwynnifer’s wand.

  A chance to have a wand of my very own. Even if it is just a toy, the possibility is just too thrilling to resist.

  “All right,” I agree, barely able to tamp down my excitement and my sparking affinity lines. I can’t fight the eager smile that lifts my mouth as I lower my voice to match her conspiring tone. “I’ll save your wand.”

  * * *

  “I only have one evening to teach you everything,” Gwynnifer tells me with urgency as we climb several stories up her home’s wrought-iron spiraling staircase, ascending all the way to the top.

  I step off the stairs and gasp in wonder. Her bedroom is like something from a storybook—it sits on the pinnacle of their charmingly vertical house, one room stacked atop another, like a tower of blocks, as if the whole thing was built into the space between the armory and the estate next door as an afterthought.

  I look around, mesmerized by Gwynnifer’s circular, panoramic space and its breathtaking view of the city. Her bed sits to one side, festooned with a deep green velvet canopy. Arcing windows completely ring the tower, their forest-green drapes tied back with black-tasseled cords. The tops of some Ironwood trees are visible through the glass, the trees’ Ironflowers glowing a soft sapphire that ripples through me in delightful waves. The tower’s ceiling is a geometric glass skylight, stars twinkling above. Sanded Ironwood tree trunks are set between the windows, their tangling limbs rising up on all sides to frame the skylight.

  Mobiles of white birds hang from the branches alongside silver Erthia orbs and glittering blessing stars attached to strings. I duck down to avoid one of the dangling birds. Paintings and drawings are affixed up and down the sanded tree trunks—depictions of wands, demons, the prophetess Galliana astride her giant raven, the white bird symbol of the Ancient One. Bookshelves are set into the walls beneath the windows, religious books and handwritten journals jammed haphazardly into them.

  It’s so excitingly different from our austere, tidy estate, and I feel a pang of jealousy. What would it be like to be so free? To hang drawings from the walls and own a ceiling of stars? Retta and Clover would be entranced, and I suddenly feel their absence acutely, wishing they were here with me to see this magical place.

  Gwynnifer is hastily pulling thick texts out from under her bed and stacking each one onto a nearby table with a heavy thump. I’m filled with surprise when I see that the lettering on the books’ spines is in a confusion of foreign languages. I’m also shocked to spot toy wands all over Gwynnifer’s sprawling room, set on bookshelves and dresser tops, bunched in vases like bouquets. More toy wands are half carved on an art table that’s surrounded by tools and discarded curlicues of wood.

  All of the wands are identical to the wand sheathed at Gwynnifer’s side.

  My affinity lines buzz as I gape at them, stunned that her parents allow this. “Why are you making so many wands?”

  Gwynnifer pauses for a moment. “Decoys. To throw the demons off. I’m going to scatter replicas all over the city.”

  Sweet Ancient One, she’s fallen too far into this game of hers.

  Uncomfortably spooked, I take in the sight of the smooth onyx stones that line the windowsill beside me. Golden runes are etched onto each stone in graceful, spiraling patterns. I pick one up and trace my finger along the design—a circle filled with what looks like a series of ocean waves. “What are these?”

  “Ishkartan counter-runes. To weaken demonic tracking spells.”

  Apprehension strafes through me, and I quickly set the rune down, remembering Mother Eliss’s teachings from our holy book. “First Children aren’t supposed to play with heathen sorcery. Why do you have these?” I notice that the rune-etched stones are scattered all over her room.

  “The Wand told me to etch the runes.” Her voice is spookily certain. “And you’re going to charge them with your light magery.”

  “Me?” I’m shocked by her outlandish idea. “How?” I know that Light Mages are the only Gardnerians who can perform rune-sorcery, since all runes are made of light, but I’ve no training in magic. As rare as my affinity is, Mother Eliss and Father always say that since I’m female, it’s more important for me to follow The Book than to wield power. And following The Book’s teachings doesn’t include wielding a wand.

  Gwynnifer’s gaze on me sharpens. “You won’t need training for this. The Wand will guide you and draw on your power. It told me so, in my dreams.” Gwynnifer brin
gs her palm down lightly on her tower of books and eyes me significantly. “I borrowed these grimoires from the armory. I’ve made copies of all of them for you to take home with you. They contain the designs for almost every runic system on Erthia.”

  I gape at her, incredulous. “There’s no way I can take any of these home with me. Mother Eliss would never allow it.”

  But Gwynnifer is unmoved. “She doesn’t have to know about them. Just keep them hidden.” She sets a deep green volume on the top of the pile. There are circular runes made up of telescoping, geometric designs embossed all over the cover, glowing a shimmering emerald.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” I say, suddenly entranced, touching my finger to the spine. The emerald glow washes over my hand as the beautiful runic designs spark my affinity, their shapes multiplying out at the edges of my vision.

  “Snake Elf runes,” Gwynnifer says, dark warning in her inflection.

  I jerk my finger back, instantly chastened. Snake Elves. An image of the serpentine boy in the wanted postings fills my mind. I blink my eyes and struggle to clear the emerald rune echo from my vision. What could be in a book like that? A Snake Elf grimoire...

  Gwynnifer is scrutinizing me, one thin eyebrow cocked, as if quietly taking my measure. “There’s one more book. It’s...a bit different.” She pauses, seeming suddenly uneasy. “I tried to copy it, but the runes disappear almost as fast as I form them. So you’ll have to take the original.” She pulls out a weighty grimoire from the shadows under one of the bookshelves and slides it across the floor. It’s all black, save for the stylized curling horns embossed on the front in shadowy gray, and there’s a dark aura emanating from it.

  “What’s that?”

  Her gaze doesn’t waver, and her answer is disturbingly succinct. “Demon sorcery.”

  Serious trepidation strikes through me, and I nudge the grimoire back toward her with my foot. “No, Gwynnifer. No. You’re playing with something evil here.” I glance fearfully at the horned book, the very shadows seeming blacker around it.

  Her eyes flash. “Don’t you see? I’m not playing. Father says you’ve got some light magery, which means you’ll be able to ward the Wand with protective runes. But you’ll need to learn all the runes to be able to do it—even the shadow runes. And you must ward the Wand, Sagellyn. Or they’ll come for you.”

  Something taps the window, and I almost jump clear out of my skin. My panicked eyes catch movement just beyond the glass.

  Geoffrey’s eager face comes into view, swaying in the branches, and my fright gives way to shocked alarm. “Your fastmate’s going to kill himself!” I exclaim.

  “He does it all the time,” Gwynnifer calmly rejoins as she turns and winds the window open, the diamond-paned glass cranking out to let in the evening breeze and the fragrant smell of Ironflowers.

  I let out a long, rattled breath and join them at the window. I glance down at the armory’s carved roof and the evening military guard standing before its entrance—two Level Five Mages. I’m amazed Geoffrey was able to get past them.

  Geoffrey rests his elbows on the windowsill and grins at us.

  “Aren’t you going to invite him in?” I ask Gwynnifer, stunned that she hasn’t made a move to get him out of the tree, regardless of how improper it would be to have him in here.

  “Oh, ho. No,” Geoffrey protests with an emphatic shake of his head. “I can’t come into her bedroom. I did that once, and her parents acted like the entire world had ended.”

  Gwynnifer nods solemnly. I stare at the identical fastlines on their hands.

  “Did you two want to get fasted?” I blurt out, blinking at them in wonder.

  They glance at each other and shrug, as if they’ve never really considered this, then nod in companionable agreement.

  “They made us,” Geoffrey readily informs me. “We snuck down to the bay one evening to gather stones for the counter-runes, and we got caught.”

  Out at night alone with a boy. I understand immediately why they were forced to fast.

  “They just about lost their minds.” Geoffrey gives a significant lift of his brow.

  Gwynnifer huffs. “How am I supposed to be the Guardian of the White Wand if I can’t come and go as I please?”

  “And boy, were our parents mad when they found us.” Geoffrey’s eyes widen with mock alarm. “It was like the whole of Valgard exploded.” He thrusts his arms out wide for emphasis, which causes him to wobble precariously before he grabs hold of a branch.

  “They thought we went down there to kiss.” Gwynnifer’s tone is emphatic in its dismissal of the ludicrous idea. “But we were gathering stones. And looking for the demons.”

  “Kissing’s gross,” Geoffrey pronounces, and Gwynnifer nods in assent.

  I blink at them, dumbfounded. I’m certainly interested in kissing Tobias, but I’d never admit that to anyone. Talking about such a thing would be highly improper.

  “We’re not romantic,” Gwynnifer states matter-of-factly. “And who thinks of such things with demons on their trail, anyway?”

  Geoffrey smiles at her, then looks back to me. “We’re good friends, though. I’m glad we’re fasted.”

  “I am as well.” Gwynnifer looks at him approvingly. “He is a valiant companion.” Then her expression lightens to one of wonderment. “And he always has candy!”

  “My father’s guildmarket is next to the biggest candy store in Valgard,” Geoffrey crows. He pulls a crinkled parchment bag out of his pocket and hands it to Gwynnifer. She opens the bag and doles out handfuls of colorful, sugar-dusted blessing star candies to each of us.

  I stare at the candy in my hand, hesitating. Mother Eliss doesn’t allow candy in our house. Mages belonging to our sect aren’t supposed to eat any food that isn’t mentioned in The Book of the Ancients.

  But I’m not supposed to have a toy wand, either, and I certainly plan on having one of those.

  I grin at Geoffrey and Gwynnifer, feeling bold, and pop a bright red candy into my mouth. Sweet thistleberry flavor bursts over my tongue, thrilling me with its overwhelming deliciousness.

  Geoffrey tosses almost a whole handful of star candies into his mouth, and I laugh. He looks like a contented moss squirrel in that tree, his cheeks stuffed to bursting. He motions toward Gwynnifer, his words muffled by the candy. “When we’re both eighteen and sealed, I’m going to let her go down to the bay anytime she likes.”

  “I’ll be able to do anything I want,” Gwynnifer says with great dignity as she chews. “No more rules.”

  Geoffrey nods. “I don’t like bossing people around.”

  These two are terribly odd. But as I sit here under the real stars and Gwynnifer’s glittering fake ones, surrounded by wands and drawings and mobiles, my mouth stuffed with forbidden candy, my mind full of Gwynnifer’s tales, I can’t help but think that things didn’t work out so badly for Gwynnifer and Geoffrey after all.

  Because fasting partners are brought together by the Ancient One above, I happily muse, momentarily lost in the memory of my fastmate’s beautiful eyes and dazzling smile.

  I catch a shimmer out of the corner of my eye and glance toward the floor. The demon grimoire’s horns catch the flickering lantern-light, and for a brief second, the air seems to vibrate as the shadows around the book deepen.

  A thread of disquiet ripples through me, and for a moment, I get the ominous feeling that what we’re playing at is much more than just a game.

  Chapter 5: Wand Lore

  Heavy steps sound on the stairs, and Geoffrey’s eyes go wide. He deftly throws two more bags of candy into the room, whispers, “G’nite, Gwynnie!” and disappears with a rustle of leaves. Gwynnifer expertly kicks the demon grimoire under her bookshelf, throws a cloak over the other grimoires and winds the window shut. She swings round and sits down demurely on a cushioned window seat, suddenly looki
ng innocent as a lamb.

  Gwynnifer’s mother smiles jovially at us as she reaches the top of the stairs and enters the tower room. She’s carrying a wooden tray that holds a plate of Icaral-wing cookies and a sloshing pitcher of milk, her face bright red from the exertion of climbing all the way up here. Two cats, one striped ginger and one fluffy black, enter the room behind her.

  Gwynnifer’s mother eyes the bags of candy on the floor. She briefly purses her lips and shakes her head, then casts me a warm smile. “Are you all settled in then, love?”

  I nod with forced enthusiasm, scared we’ll get in trouble for the candy—Mother Eliss would certainly never allow it. I search her face with trepidation, but she seems resigned to Gwynnifer’s small rebellions.

  She sets her tray down on the small table beside the bed. “Well, don’t stay up too late, you young Mages. It’s been a big day for the both of you. You’re fasted ladies now!” She gives Gwynnifer an indulgent look, her eyes glassing over for a moment, then good-naturedly insists on a hug and kiss from us both before descending back down the stairs, chatting animatedly with the ginger cat who follows her.

  I climb up onto Gwynnifer’s cushy bed as she solemnly pours me a glass of milk and hands me a small plate of cookies. I pick up a cookie and snap the Icaral wings in two, murmuring the usual protection blessing against the Evil Ones’ winged power. Gwynnifer pulls out a thick journal as I take a bite, the cookie’s warm, buttery goodness melting on my tongue.

  “Everything I could find out about the Wand is in here,” she says, offering me the hand-sewn volume. She’s written The White Wand on the front in extravagantly looping letters. Doodles of blessing stars and wands and the prophetess Galliana astride a giant raven surround the title. I flip through the book and see that she’s broken it up into chapters—histories of the White Wand from every race, even the Ishkart and Snake Elves.