“Deliver it. That’s not a suggestion, boy,” Aldemund said with a snarl.
“W-where do I t-take it?” he shook like a helpless animal as he spoke.
Aldemund pushed him gently, though the defiant stare he gave was not pleasant. “Go; take it to the usual place.”
Watching as the teenager ran through the street, Aldemund slipped into a dark alley. As usual, he could overhear Fayth and Christopher whispering to each other. Then he smelt the unmistakable scent of blood—something Aldemund spent years being around so much that he noticed it instantly. It might not have bothered him at first, but these were his magicians. Besides that, Christopher was one of the strongest magicians working for him.
“What did you do, fool? Just because we have a longer lifespan than humans doesn’t mean you get to waste it!” Aldemund slapped Christopher’s face once he stood in front of him.
Christopher’s golden eyes narrowed down on him. “I didn’t want this anymore than you, master.”
“Mocking me, eh?” Aldemund wrapped his hand around his neck, but he quickly withdrew. Looking down at his palm, there was a red stain. Barely any sunlight shone through the alley, but Aldemund snapped his fingers and a spark of fire emerged from his palm. Christopher’s neck was scratched; a minor injury, but a critical spot on the body.
Fury built up in Aldemund’s eyes; his nostrils flared. “Do you know why you’re the highest ranking magician? You’re brilliant; you’re the fastest and most talented magician. Something like that takes time to master; you have to work hard, you need to know our history, you have to shed your own blood and tears to actually know how to survive.”
Christopher smiled as he listened to the rare compliments.
“And now,” Aldemund continued, “you’ve disappointed me. You cannot afford to make mistakes. Next time this happens you’ll be answering to me, and so help me I’ll make your life a miserable hell.”
“Sir,” Fayth, Christopher’s brunette companion, spoke. “I was there with him when it happened. A man neither of us have ever seen before attacked out of nowhere!”
While Fayth was a focused worker, it bothered Aldemund that she hadn’t mentioned any attempt she made to save Christopher. He might have died, and she would have helped the attacker. Instead of yelling at her, though, he decided to put aside any further questions. He would call for the healer once more, and once Christopher was fixed, they could return to serious business. If that meant hunting down three Dark magicians instead of two, then so be it.
“Well, Fayth, we all know how you are when it comes to choosing a man to fight for,” Aldemund snickered. In truth, though, he had little patience for Fayth’s excuses. They had once been romantically involved during their younger years, but now that she was nearing Aldemund’s age she had settled for a different man. Her fiancé was Japhet, a helpless romantic who just so happened to work alongside them.
“For as long as I’ve known you, you have hated Esmour, but with every passing day you become more like him,” Christopher whispered.
“Speak up if you dare to insult me. I am nothing like Esmour, and if I were you I would remember that.” Aldemund snapped.
With a laugh he added, “Besides, I wouldn’t dream of telling Japhet the truth about Fayth’s feelings unless I really had to.”
The scarlet color that filled Fayth’s face spoke for everything she would not admit. Aldemund strode past them and walked out to the other side of the alley and back into the town. The sun beamed in his face and the heat hit his body, but somehow everything felt right. At last events were turning to his advantage. Even the magicians working under him seemed to be at his mercy.
Being on the other side of town, he could see the teenage boy delivering the letter to a man emerging from the bakery. As if knowing he was there, the two looked over at Aldemund once the letter was ripped open. Aldemund nodded, yet he did not meet up with them. Instead he carried on his way until someone tapped his shoulder. The instant he turned around the person punched him in the face.
Holding his hands up to his bloody nose, Aldemund cursed and screamed, “Who do you think you are? You worthless, thoughtless—”
He opened his eyes and saw Christopher standing in front of him. Tasting blood on his lips, Aldemund stumbled back. It seemed Christopher had come alone, but there were others in town moving toward them to see what the uproar was about.
“Pathetic lout, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Christopher said in a rising voice.
“Did it feel good? Perhaps I should tell everyone of what else pleases you,” Aldemund snickered, even though Christopher held his fist up again. The determination in his eyes was the least of Aldemund’s worries. He was somewhat amused with his magician’s new attitude.
“You aren't worth it,” he said while lowering his fist. He began backing away, but the crowd of townspeople had multiplied during the elapsed time. No one moved to let him pass; however, there were murmurs spoken. For a moment Aldemund considered him a serious threat, but he could not perform magic yet again in front of an ordinary group of people.
The stance Aldemund stood was testing whether Christopher would attack or not. Both of the men remained where they were, and eventually everyone around them became disinterested. Despite Christopher’s fierce expression, Aldemund decided he was calm enough to inform him about the Dark magicians he encountered.
“When you’re finished acting out on your feelings, I need you to stay on the watch for Alaire Sencler and his new companion, Celestria.” Aldemund cleared his throat, sounding as if he might say more.
When he was silent, Christopher responded, “Alaire’s alive? And he has a companion?”
“Yes,” Aldemund continued in a lower voice, “I’ve got a feeling in my gut warning me that she worked for Esmour. She was a part of his organization.”
“I can search around, but this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve overreacted. Esmour is dead, and you said so yourself none of the living Dark magicians will risk their lives for his missions in a time like this,” Christopher replied while shaking his head in disagreement.
Though Aldemund desired to say more, he saw his wife and twelve year old son passing by. Christopher pushed past a group of cheerful children and once again descended into the alley. Ignoring him, Aldemund waved to his family.
Tugging on his tunic, his wife said, “Darling, why did Christopher attack you? I thought we agreed this sort of thing wouldn’t happen out in public.”
“Sabelle, I had no control over it. You saw it yourself; he outright attacked me without any reason,” Aldemund sighed.
Shaking her head, she responded, “That doesn’t sound like the Christopher I know. I don’t want our son seeing something like that.”
Aldemund looked down at the boy, who stared up at him with a big grin.
“It was great, Papa! Everybody saw it,” he cried, throwing his fists up to wrestle the air.
“It won’t happen again, I promise. You know I work hard to protect our family and friends,” Aldemund said sincerely. He bent down, gesturing for his son to jump on his back, and once he clung closely to Aldemund they began the walk home. Sabelle ran after them, laughing at her husband’s familiar attitude.
Even as he walked home, Aldemund was convinced he would prove to his magicians that danger still existed. Someone was bound to find Celestria, and if not she would come to him. There was no reason she would not when he held the key to the secrets she desired.
Chapter Eleven
Unforeseen Fate
Cautiously I walked through the cloudy water. My dress soaked in its filth, but I kept my attention on what was around me. The water was thick while I dragged my legs further one step at a time. Alaire was a few inches away from me, yet it seemed I had not gotten any closer to him. Then I heard it; a sound approaching, drawing nearer with every passing second. I saw Alaire’s hand and grabbed onto it just as a scaly tail touched my foot. He pulled me toward him, and during that moment our hearts seemed t
o beat at the same rapid pace. He released me, and then I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the swamp as possible.
Thankfully, the swamp was behind us in a matter of minutes. Alaire and I sneaked through town. There were locals out in town, carrying about with their normal lives. I saw no sign of the bag I had been forced to leave.
“Sorry, but it’s too risky to return for your bag and staff. Staffs and cloaks are old-fashioned, though,” he said when he saw my disappointed face.
Once we were on a dirt path, Alaire assured me that we were out of town and could take back roads to avoid any unwanted travelers.
“How does Léal know you?” Alaire asked suddenly. I nearly stopped, but I decided otherwise when I saw he was not looking back and therefore would not notice my lack in pace.
“A local in my town told him about me. And you?”
“We were… partners.” He slurred his last word, as if he was not entirely sure that was the truth.
Tilting my head at him, I said, “Partners for what purpose?”
“I don’t know how much I can tell you. We worked for a man named Esmour, and it’s not exactly safe to talk about what we did for him,” he said as he strode ahead of me.
A horrifying realization occurred to me. Léal had never mentioned knowing of another Dark magician, and he acted desperate for company. Why would Léal lie to me? I could not conjure an answer, but I hoped Alaire could reassure me.
“When I met Léal he said I was the only Dark magician he knew to be alive,” I blurted out, quickening my pace to catch up to him.
Alaire nodded. “I asked him not to mention me because we had gone our own ways. At the time we hadn’t imagined we would ever meet up with another Dark magician.”
“And now?” I asked, though I was not fully convinced.
“After I saw what happened to you, I knew I had to tell you the truth. There is such little hope left; we need something to hold onto,” he said. The seriousness in his voice was unmistakable. Though it worried me why Léal had not been as open as Alaire, I believed that he was speaking the truth. By not mentioning Alaire, Léal had been protecting him.
Another question came to mind, but suddenly I walked into Alaire’s back. I stepped away, but then I understood why he had stopped in the middle of the road. About a yard away from where we stood were two women. They wore elegant dresses, and their hair was blonde and curled From the smirks on their faces there was something terribly wrong about the situation.
“We were expecting you to be alone,” the one in the blue dress said, speaking directly to me.
“Who are you? You have mistaken me for someone else,” I replied.
“Do you hear her, Melodie,” she snorted and returned to speak to me. “We do not make mistakes, and we know who you are, Celestria.”
“Now," Alaire whispered, dropping his bag on the ground.
Before I could ask for his guidance, he murmured a word quickly and struck down Melodie with a gray shard. She shivered for a moment, but then, as if she had never been hit, she knelt down and raised her hands. The sky turned a dark purple and suddenly the sound of thunder roared in the distance. It appeared she was a Storm magician, but within seconds she was the least of our worries.
“Lena, let’s show these two how White magicians fight,” Melodie said.
Alaire pointed over to her, motioning he would take care of her. That left me to deal with Lena, whose magic I feared the most.
A large orb of light bounced into the sky. It slowly started drifting down, but I shielded my face with my hands. While whispering as many counter spells as I could think of, I hoped the light would not touch me. Light magicians were extremely powerful, and if there was anyone that could defeat a Dark magician first it was our greatest enemy, Light. While we controlled the darkness, they controlled everything involving light—making that our weakness. Light magic was the one power we could never have control over.
The light began to shine through my hands, but I heard a man’s voice next to me. Alaire was conquering a spell of some sort as well. There was a screeching sound and then a gust of wind blew past us. I placed my hands down and felt something wet below me. When I glanced down I saw a river of black water. Though it flowed toward Lena and Melodie, the thunder grew louder and a lightning bolt struck down, barely missing us.
A gust of wind picked up, and the leaves from the trees blew in a circle. There was a bruise on Melodie’s face, and Alaire advanced to her. With a quick movement of his hands, he struck her back with a mist of black smoke.
I bolted toward Lena. The color was drained from her skin, her eyes turned white, and black marks covered her arms. Having never seen anything like that before, I turned to where Alaire was for guidance.
“Are we doing this?” I asked Alaire, though I sounded like a fool. A branch from a tree flew in the air, scratching my cheek as it passed.
Using a counter spell against Melodie, he frowned and said, “There are no other options.”
“Alaire?” He was frightening me.
The sky only darkened as those thoughts entered my mind. The wind hit my body with more force. My knees quivered, and I was certain that before long I would not be able to stand.
“The Light magician … she cannot live …” Alaire responded, and as he spoke his voice shook.
I returned to face Lena, and as if she heard those words, she grabbed onto my body and shook. Screaming, I cast a spell that knocked her into the water. I fell back at the same time she did. Feeling helpless and defeated, I glanced around for Alaire. He looked back and noticed I had fallen, and then he ran to where I was. Did he think I was helpless, as well? Was I weak, since I had fallen while he was still standing? Despite whatever he thought, he leaned down and offered his hand
“Please tell me this will be over soon,” I pleaded, looking into his bright eyes and grabbing onto his hand.
Pulling me up to where he stood, Alaire whispered, “This will end soon enough. Don’t give up on me just yet, Celestria.”
Now standing, I felt queasy and continued panting like a dog. Alaire cast the spell zlind, an Eldarian word that simply translated to mean “energy.” I could feel movement in the water below us, but I followed Alaire’s lead and spoke the spell in unison with him. The water flowed behind us as we walked toward Lena. She remained lying in the water, seemingly unable to move. And as she lay there without any reaction, Melodie rapidly spoke a spell.
An overwhelming amount of wind threatened to knock me over. I held onto Alaire’s hand tightly as we walked against it. The water surrounding Lena darkened; there wasn’t anything pure left in it. Now it flowed with our magic. Though she started to stand again, she soon fell back down. The splash of water silenced everything including Melodie’s chanting. Her eyes widened, staring at her sister’s body. As the ordinary atmosphere returned, I felt like I had been drained of all the energy I had. Melodie scrambled to her sister, whose body lay in the water twitching uncontrollably.
Alaire left me to dash toward Melodie, holding out his hand while he cast a spell.
My knees failed me, and then I was laying on the dirt road, choking up my own spit. Another thud echoed after me, but my eyes stung too hard and I dared not to look.
Chapter Twelve
Guardian Angel
Something wet touched my cheek; it was moist and rough. Opening my eyes, I jumped up and yelped. I let out a sigh, realizing it was the tongue of a horse. The animal was white with flowing hair to match its skin color. However, the horse no longer paid attention to me. It gazed down at Alaire, who was lying on the ground nearby me.
I inched over and knelt beside him. All I could remember was Lena lying in the water, and then I had fallen without any strength left. But Alaire…
What had happened to him? The horse nudged his head; its eyes looked almost human with the sympathetic way it looked at him. Slowly, I extended my arm over Alaire and held two fingers against his neck. There was a pulse, yet there were a few minor
bruises on his face. As I withdrew my fingers I realized the horse was staring at me, almost glaring at me. The animal had appeared out of nowhere, and as it stood loyally by Alaire’s side I wondered why it was wandering astray.
“He’s not really much to fret about, you know,” I said, though the joke did not make me laugh.
“Celestria?” Alaire muttered.
The horse's head lifted up as I moved closer to him.
“What happened?” I placed my hand on his, but then I quickly withdrew it. I could feel my cheeks were glowing red.
“Lena died, but I think the other one got away,” Alaire said in a husky voice. He noticed the horse leaning over him and grinned.
Pushing himself up to sit, he added, “Our skills are a bit rusty. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re attacked out of nowhere.”
I nodded, though I was glancing around at everything. The road looked entirely as it had previously before the fight. Nothing had changed, and there was no sign of a fight having ever occurred. This was the way of the magical world; a magician could change the atmosphere for a battle, but afterwards mother nature took over and everything was in place again.
Patting Alaire on the back, I stood up and stretched out my legs. Then, I walked over to Lena’s body, which remained where it had been when she died. Our magic had overwhelmed her, yet I moved toward the body to be certain.
Lena’s green eyes stared up at me without any movement. I wondered briefly if Dyanna had a similar expression on her face at the time of her death. Staring at Lena, my attention was drawn to her facial expression. Her jaw hung open, though she would never be able to cry out for help.
Though I frowned at the thought of the pain she must have endured, I returned to Alaire and confirmed Lena’s condition.
“Vinur, my horse, you’ve found me,” Alaire said, petting the horse’s long face.
While it was midafternoon, there were shadows around the trees near us. Yonder I saw one tree that stood alone, and there was a light coming from it. The bright light seemed to be calling me. Ignoring Alaire, I stood up and dragged my feet across the ground toward the tree. I felt like I had no control over my body, but all the same I wanted to know what the light was.
Cursed With Power (the Magicians Book 1) Page 7
