Jaxon stormed past him up the stairs into the manor.
Leira started after him, but Graeme caught her by the arm and whispered something into her ear. She nodded and then chased after Jaxon.
“Walk with me,” Graeme said, turning down a stone pathway.
Allyn obliged, taking up position beside him. They walked in silence. Only the soft sounds of their feet clapping against the stones interrupted the night. The path led them through a sparse forested area that had been cleaned of fallen limbs and dead foliage. The trees were groomed, and the bushes had been trimmed. The moon, shining brightly in the clear winter night, was visible through the tangle of naked branches.
Allyn struggled to remain silent and not hit Graeme with a barrage of questions. Waiting for the answers to come to him went against everything he was. His job was to seek truth, not wait for it.
Graeme looked at him from the corner of his eye, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again.
Nervous people either closed up or rambled on incoherently. Something told him that Graeme was probably the former. “Jaxon probably saved my life tonight.”
“And nearly died in the process,” Graeme said. “You may not understand the dangers of this world, but he does. Or at least, he should.”
“What world is that exactly?” Allyn winced at being so direct.
Graeme sighed. “I asked you before for your help, and you said no. Now Lukas has your sister, and I don’t know what he wants with her or if he’ll stop his pursuit of you now that he has her.”
Leira said they didn’t know about Kendyl. Either Graeme hadn’t been entirely truthful with her and Jaxon, or they’d told him on their way back.
“But I do know, Allyn,” Graeme continued, “that if you help me answer those questions, I’ll do everything in my power to get her back. So I ask you again, will you help me?”
Graeme was playing a game—give me something, and I’ll give you something. He was waiting for Allyn to blink first because he knew he had the advantage. Allyn was negotiating from a place of weakness, out of desperation. He had no leverage.
“Yes,” Allyn said. “I’ll help you.”
Graeme’s shoulders dipped in apparent relief. He even gave Allyn a small, toothless smile.
They entered a small circular clearing that reminded Allyn of an outdoor study. Tall, solar-powered lamps had been placed evenly around the edge of the clearing, providing soft light. Two seats carved from old tree trunks waited for them in the center, and a stump, which had been cut smooth on top, acted as a table. Graeme took a seat and motioned for Allyn to do the same.
“Then there are a few things we need to discuss first,” Graeme said. His voice became quiet, as though he were telling Allyn a secret. “For as long as there have been people like you, there have been people like me. We’ve been called many things. Mages, wizards, witches, even gods—and, most recently, demons. In the beginning, we worked and lived with non-magic people in a symbiotic relationship. Although greatly outnumbered, we provided the necessities of life, from the warmth of fire to healing and protection. But as men learned to create fire, developed medicine, and built weapons for protection, our relationship began to collapse. So, unneeded and useless to humankind, the ancient magi turned to each other for support, and our first Families were formed.”
Allyn looked through the trees toward the manor. Its softly illuminated windows were barely visible through the sparse branches. “Your family lives here? How many of you are there?”
“Not a ‘family’ as you would define it. Though, today, since our numbers have dwindled to so few, I am related to every magi in some form or another. But no, by ‘Family,’ I mean we’re brought together by a common bond, a mutual purpose that separates us from others. The ability to perform magic.”
Allyn leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. While he probably looked like an anxious teenager, Graeme looked regal in his throne-like carved seat, strong and formidable. Leira had said she and Lukas were “family.” Does that mean they’re related or that Lukas had once lived here with her as a member of Graeme’s Family?
“What can you do?” Allyn asked. “What kind of abilities do you have?”
Graeme held out his hands. At the flick of his wrists, a fireball formed in one hand and a ball of ice in the other. The fire and ice rose into the air, danced around Allyn, and returned to Graeme’s hands. The fire dissipated, and the ice fell harmlessly to the ground.
“You can control the elements,” Allyn said.
“We call it wielding. And it’s not the elements. I’m harnessing—wielding—my body’s fire, water, and air.”
“How does it work? Do other magi have different abilities?” Allyn asked, thinking of Nyla and Leira.
“Yes. There are two different kinds of magi, those like me who can wield fire, water, and air, and those like Nyla, who is a cleric with the ability to heal.”
“Are there magi who can do both?”
“In time, Allyn,” Graeme said. “In time. I know you have a lot of questions, but first, let me finish my story. For a long time, our two people coexisted, but as humanity populated and thrived, magi were needed less and less. And they retreated farther and farther. We were sought out in only the most dire of circumstances, usually to aid an ailing spouse or child, though, sometimes, for other darker, more vengeful reasons.”
Allyn couldn’t help thinking back to the attack at his apartment. A magi would make the perfect assassin. With abilities that nobody knew existed, there would never be a murder weapon or reliable witnesses. Anyone who gave a statement suggesting that magic was to blame would immediately be cast aside and laughed at.
“I know you’re thinking of Lukas. But know that, in his heart, Lukas is a good man. He has a different goal than we do, or maybe it’s the same goal, but he resorts to different methods to achieve it.”
“What goal is that?” Allyn asked.
“Survival. The ancient magi were different from Lukas. They had been cast aside and shunned or worse. Because they became aloof and helped in only the direst of circumstances, they became affiliated with loss, pain, and death. They were resented when they refused help and feared when they did. A parent rejoices when their child is miraculously saved from certain death, but a neighbor sees a sinister force behind it. For every good deed a magi performed, a hundred rumors spread. Magi were consorting with demons, performing sacrifices, and dark deals were made with dark spirits. They were evil.
“Large Families had strength in numbers, but single magi or small Families were easy targets. Their homes were ransacked. Their property stolen or destroyed. Houses burned. Magi died. And a rift formed between magi and humans. So when a human came to a magi with vengeance on their mind, you can see how some would be tempted to accept the offer. It became retaliation on a small scale.”
“Which would only make things worse. Strengthen the fears between them,” Allyn said.
“The big picture is the last thing on the mind of someone who has been beaten down and broken.”
Allyn leaned back in his seat. He knew what Graeme was talking about. People could resort to being sour or petty in a hurry—score a victory right away, even if it meant losing the war later. And he dealt with people who’d only been slightly wronged, nothing to the extent of what Graeme was talking about.
“But you’re right,” Graeme continued. “Things did get worse. Violence erupted between humans and magi. Hundreds, even thousands, died. Magi fled—small Families first—seeking refuge in a town or city that didn’t know their true nature. Larger Families became the target of anti-magic vitriol, and out of a desire to end the violence and protect their loved ones, the Families broke apart, spreading across the land. We call it the Fracture. We adopted human practices, embraced technology and culture
and, in the name of survival, hid who we were.”
Graeme pulled his cell phone from his hip and held it up for Allyn to see. “That strategy continues today. And because of it, our existence is a rumor. A story or myth, at best.”
“Lukas wants to change that,” Allyn said. “He’s tired of hiding.”
Graeme nodded. “Something the rest of the Families don’t agree with.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Graeme took a deep breath. “This is where we venture into the unknown. I have an idea, but I want you to understand that it’s nothing more than that.”
“I understand.”
“I believe Lukas thinks you can wield.”
Chapter 5
Allyn laughed. It all felt like a mistake, one big, ridiculous mistake. Graeme didn’t look amused. Allyn stopped laughing but failed to wipe the smile from his face. “How would that even be possible?”
“I’ll show you.” Graeme stood. He motioned for Allyn to follow and, without waiting, walked back down the stone path to the manor.
Allyn followed sluggishly, wondering what time it was. The sky was starting to lighten. Dawn wasn’t far off.
Graeme led him up the stairs to the main entrance, grabbed the brass handles, and pushed open the red double doors.
Allyn looked on in amazement.
Two grand staircases curved along the wall on either side, mirroring each other. Hallways painted an ornate red split off in opposite directions at the top of the stairs, and another led forward, deeper into the house. A crystal chandelier that was taller than Allyn hung from the coffered ceiling, and the light reflecting off it made the room feel alive.
Another set of hallways branched off in both directions to his immediate right and left, but Allyn followed Graeme forward, between the stairs, deeper into the house. Sculptures and paintings of various sizes and shapes hung on the walls and filled alcoves. Hand-woven rugs lined hallways and covered the dark hardwood floor. The manor had a history, and Allyn knew without asking that each piece of art told part of the story.
The manor was larger than Allyn had expected. I should probably stop expecting things to be as they seem. He was in unfamiliar territory and struggled to make sense of it all. Kendyl would have had an easier time. She was more impulsive, more emotional, and more spontaneous. She believed there was still some magic in the world, maybe not real magic, but she would believe, while he was still searching for the lie.
They descended two stories into a basement and rounded a corner, where they came to a stop. A sliding-glass door separated them from an enormous chamber lit with lamps hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Mahogany bookshelves, tall enough to require a ladder and overflowing with books, lined the walls. Ancient artifacts set in glass displays were spread throughout the room. It was more than a library. It was a museum.
Graeme punched in a code on a ten-digit metal keypad hanging on the wall, and the door slid opened with a hiss. Graeme waved Allyn forward. The air was dry and smelled… clean, strangely artificial, as if it was climate controlled. The door closed behind them.
“Excuse me,” Graeme said softly, holding up a hand.
A woman in front of them was hunched over a table, reading a leather-bound book. The fingers of her left hand were buried in her long silver hair, gently massaging the back of her head. It was the same woman who had tended to him in his room. Nyla.
“You should be resting,” Graeme said.
She looked up from her reading material as she became aware of the man approaching her. Dark circles surrounded her bloodshot eyes. Whatever she was doing, she’d been at it for a while.
“I can’t rest,” she said, returning her focus to the book in front of her. The room was quiet enough that Allyn could still hear their hushed voices.
Graeme glanced in Allyn’s direction. He placed a hand on Nyla’s elbow and gently pulled her up. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but it won’t do any good tonight.”
Nyla pulled her arm free, never taking her eyes off the book.
“He’s gone, Nyla,” Graeme said in a comforting tone.
She looked up from her book, staring straight forward. “I know he’s gone,” she said, her voice cold. “You don’t have to tell me. I was there.”
“How long has it been since you’ve slept? When was the last time you looked in the mirror? I fear you’re intimidating our new guest.”
Nyla’s eyes flashed to Allyn. “What is he doing here? I thought he left.”
“He’s helping us.”
She looked at him, incredulous. “What does he know? He’s the reason Baylis is dead!” She shoved the table forward, rose to her feet, and stormed toward Allyn.
Allyn took a nervous step backward, looking to Graeme for help.
“Nyla…” Graeme said, his voice firm.
She ignored him, powering toward Allyn. She didn’t slow down.
Allyn backed into a glass encasement resting atop a pedestal. It rocked perilously. Turning, he caught it as it slid off the pedestal.
Nyla stormed past him and angrily punched the code into the keypad. Before the doors were entirely open, she had vanished around the corner.
“I’m sorry about that,” Graeme said. “You’ll have to excuse Nyla. She lost someone very special to her recently.”
“When you saved me?” Allyn asked, watching the hallway, expecting her to return.
“No,” Graeme said. “Before.”
“But she said it was my fault.”
“She was talking about something else,” Graeme said. “Come over here. I want to show you something.”
Allyn hesitated. For the first time all night, Allyn felt as if Graeme was holding something back, and it made him suspicious. “I’ve been wondering, how did you find me?”
“I had Jaxon and Leira follow you. I was sure Lukas would make another play, and I wanted them to be there when he did.”
“No, that was the second time. I’m talking about the first time, at my condo.”
Graeme eyed him for a moment.
He’s stalling.
“We have a spy—someone inside Lukas’s inner circle. He informed us Lukas was making a play for a human.”
“Then why didn’t you know about my sister?”
“I don’t know,” Graeme said. “Either the informant has been compromised, or they were unable to get the information out.”
“If they’re still there, they can help us get her back!”
Graeme nodded. “In time.”
“In time? No! Now! Every second she’s missing makes it more difficult to get her back.”
“This isn’t a normal missing persons case. We know who has her, and we know where she is. We’ll get her back, I promise, but we’ll move when the time is right and we have a plan with a high probability of success.”
He was right. Allyn wouldn’t go to trial without a case that he knew front to back, and he would never go if he didn’t believe he would win. But that didn’t make waiting any easier. He exhaled deeply. “What did you want to show me?”
Graeme held out his arms to either side. “This. This is everything my Family has gathered since the Fracture. Every artifact, every story, every family tree. Our entire history rests before your eyes.”
Allyn gaped. He stepped up to the enormous bookcase. There had to be thousands of books containing vast amounts of information on those shelves.
“As you can imagine, it’s really quite sparse,” Graeme said.
Sparse? Allyn pulled a heavy, leather-bound book from the shelf. The spine cracked and popped as Allyn opened it. The pages were yellow and stiff with age, smelled musty, and were covered with handwritten text.
“Most of the books are similar to the one you hold in your hand, a journ
al or diary or the like. Together, they make up our history. There isn’t an encyclopedia detailing our history through multiple volumes. All we have lies here, in this room, and others like it.”
Allyn surveyed the room with a new perspective. While vast, the information on hand would be very limited. Journals and diaries would be great for firsthand accounts, but they would only tell a small part of the story. And what they did have was losing its battle against time. Their history was deteriorating in front of their eyes. Allyn closed the book and gently placed it back on the shelf. “What in here leads you to believe that Lukas thinks I can wield?”
“In all actuality, it’s what isn’t in here that I believe holds the key. Our records are broken. All we have left are bits and pieces. Entire Families were killed. Others died off or seamlessly transitioned into life with humans. Their history, and our history along with it, was lost with them. Magic comes from magic. It has been passed down from parent to child for hundreds of generations. But without the proper ancestral records, entire bloodlines have been lost.”
Allyn turned to Graeme, realization forming. “Lukas thinks I’m a long-lost descendant.”
“Perhaps,” Graeme said. “However, even if you were, it doesn’t mean you’d be able to wield. The power would most likely lie dormant inside you, silent, unable to be harnessed.”
“Why?”
“To put it simply, you haven’t been raised in a way that makes feeling it easy.”
“But it’s possible.”
“Yes, it’s possible.”
“Then I want to try.”
Graeme nodded, smiling. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“When do we start?”
“Soon,” Graeme said. “But first, I want you to trace your ancestry as far back as you can. And I mean everyone. Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins—everyone you can remember. But they have to be blood relatives. No step-relatives or children from a previous marriage. Family by blood.”
Fracture (Book 1) Page 5
