by G. R. Lyons
Ryley groaned, rubbing his tired eyes. “What time is it?”
Master Ross produced a pocketwatch from somewhere in his robes and checked the time. “It is just gone half eight in the morning.”
Ryley blinked. “Seriously?” He groaned again. “I've been asleep for twelve hours, and I swear I could sleep for twelve more.”
The mage frowned. “You have slept…for twelve hours,” he deadpanned.
“Yeah,” Ryley said slowly. That sounded about right. “Why?”
Master Ross scanned the room, his frown deepening, until his eyes landed on the pocketwatch he'd give Ryley the evening before. The mage darted over and picked it up, popping the case open to read the time. It didn't make any sense. The man had just looked at his own watch a few seconds ago.
“Something wrong?” Ryley asked.
Master Ross stared at the watch, slowly shaking his head. “I spelled it to record the moment you passed through that door,” he said, almost to himself, then lifted his gaze to Ryley's face, his eyes wide. “You did it in five hours and fifty-eight minutes?”
Ryley shrugged. “I guess so?”
The mage continued to stare at him, looking utterly dumbfounded, then barked a laugh and shook his head. “Father's love. This is incredible.” He eyed Ryley over the watch. “You are quite determined.”
Ryley felt himself blushing under the man's gaze. Even if he hadn't been naked, he would have felt so with the way the man was looking at him.
“Well.” Master Ross blinked, then seemed to shake himself out of whatever thoughts were running through his mind. “As you are awake, perhaps we ought to take advantage of the hour and find you something to eat. Then, perhaps, make this space a bit more…habitable,” he finished, glancing around with a look of distaste, flicking his fingers as though brushing dust off of them.
Ryley nodded. “Mind if I get dressed first?”
“Oh. Yes. Of course. Certainly.”
Ryley waited, but the man didn't move. “Alone?”
“Right!” Master Ross cleared his throat, grinned shyly, and turned for the door. “Right. I shall just…wait out here.”
He left the room, and Ryley scrambled out of bed, clutching the stiff, aged sheet around him as he went, and slammed the door shut. Not that it would do him much good. Master Ross was a mage, after all. Ryley could blockade the door and the man would probably find a way in.
Which, of course, explained how he got into the cottage in the first place. Ryley groaned. There had to be a way to put a lock on that front door. He was hardly an antisocial creature, but some privacy sure would be nice.
As soon as Ryley was dressed, he took a deep breath and left the bedroom to find a cheery fire burning in the hearth and Master Ross waving his hands, making the windows fly open just in time for the dust to sweep itself outside. The windows closed again, and Master Ross clapped his hands.
“That is a bit better,” he declared. “Now. To break your fast,” he said, giving Ryley a smile as he wandered into another room.
Ryley followed, and found a cozy kitchen behind a wall he hadn't noticed the night before. Master Ross gave a flick of his wrist, and a few lamps came to life, lighting the space. Ryley cringed. Right. No electricity. Not on the magical Isle, where anything electronic wouldn't work.
That was going to be interesting.
“What would you like?” Master Ross asked. “I am afraid we do not have your…” He gestured vaguely. “What do you Agori call it? Oh. Yes. Cereal. Though we could certainly acquire some–”
“I'd just like to get started,” Ryley said.
Master Ross tsked. “No, no, dear boy. You must eat! Fueling the body is vital in order to perform the tasks to which I shall put you. Yes. You must eat. Come. Sit.”
Ryley rolled his eyes and sat on a stool at a table that clearly served double duty as a work space.
“I believe eggs are a fairly universal diet, are they not?” the mage asked.
“Yeah. Fine.” The sooner they could get this over with, the sooner Ryley could start learning how to control the beast inside of him. “That works.”
“Excellent.” Master Ross turned away, heating the stove and making eggs simply appear in a bowl on the counter.
Ryley frowned. “Are you just making those out of thin air?”
“Certainly not,” the mage said, chuckling. “You cannot make something out of nothing. That is a rule of nature, and consequently, of magic. You can move an object from one place to another, but you cannot simply create an object by wish or whim. There are forces and matter to be dealt with. These eggs are from my own pantry. They will serve for now until we can stock your own.” He gestured at a cupboard across the room, which Ryley assumed was his own pantry, probably as empty as the Void from decades of disuse.
“So,” Ryley asked, “how long, exactly, do you think this might take?”
“What would that be?” the mage asked over his shoulder while he continued to work at the stove.
“My training.”
“Well, that depends. If you wish to attempt Rajali status, you ought to expect several years of training.”
“No,” Ryley blurted. “No, I really don't want to be a mage. I just…I want to be able to control this thing so I can't hurt anyone again.”
Master Ross glanced at him, then looked away, his eyes suddenly sad. “I am very sorry to hear that.”
Ryley sighed. “Look, it's not like there's anything wrong with being a mage. It's just not for me, you know? I've got a great job–” Had a great job. That would be gone by the time he ever got back to Agoran, having walked away without giving notice like he did. “I just don't see myself, you know, casting spells and whatnot for the rest of my life.” He sighed again. “Honestly, I'd just get rid of this shit if I could.”
Master Ross dropped the spoon he was holding, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. The man stared at it for a moment, then quickly retrieved it, tossed it in the sink, and whirled to face Ryley, his eyes wide.
“Mr. Skye,” he began slowly, “may I ask you something?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“When you opened that door last night, were you able to feel your power?”
Ryley frowned. What was the man on about?
Master Ross gestured at himself. “Could you feel the core of it? Could you sense it radiating out at your command?” He paused, then asked in a softer voice, “Can you feel it…even now?”
Ryley thought for a moment, then looked down when he realized his hands had gone to his chest, pressing there like he was holding something in. He did feel something. He'd even felt it last night, the power surging from that core and launching forward to unlatch the door. Looking back, he'd always been aware of…something. Some part of him, resting there, waiting to be recognized for what it was.
“There is a way,” Master Ross continued softly, “to have one's powers removed.” Ryley brightened at that news, but before he could say anything, the mage held up a hand, stopping him. “A Circle of Seven. A gathering of seven magi to rip the core of a mage's power from his body, leaving him naught but a man. It is used as a punishment, for when a mage transgresses against his vows. No one has ever voluntarily endured it.”
Ryley frowned. The man seemed almost shaken by the very idea, but Ryley was still intrigued. If he could just have the powers removed, he wouldn't have anything to worry about. He'd be safe. He wouldn't be a danger to anyone anymore. He wouldn't have to constantly focus on keeping himself calm so that the damned thing wouldn't get out.
“Why not?” he finally asked. “Why has no one ever volunteered for it?”
Master Ross wrung his hands. “Every mage who has ever had his powers removed…” He paused and shook his head sadly. “With the exception of one—Master Dreslin, who managed to endure the loss for just over a year, until he was killed during an attempt to assassinate the emperor of Ceynes—every mage who has endured a Circle of Seven has died within a mere few months.” He paused aga
in, then added, “By his own hand.”
“Oh. Shit.”
Master Ross nodded. “The loss of one's power has been described as leaving an unbearable void, one that the former mage can feel as keenly as missing a limb. I would never recommend such a course.” The mage closed the distance between them and grabbed Ryley's wrist. “Please consider this. I would hate to see you suffer so.”
The mage whirled away, returning to the stove, leaving Ryley alone with his thoughts. Ryley was desperate to be rid of the magic, but could doing so really be that bad?
He rested a hand over his chest again, feeling his heartbeat alongside another steady pulse that he'd carried with him his entire life. One he'd always tried to pretend wasn't there.
Holy shit. Maybe the guy was right.
Chapter 20
ASHER STARED at the ceiling, trying to process Vic's words.
He'd had to wait a whole day for news, since Vic had barely gotten back from tracking down Ryley when he got called in for an emergency kidnapping case. Vic had spent all night and most of that morning searching for the kid, and once the girl was safely back home, Vic had put off his case report in order to finally tell Asher what he'd learned.
Ryley had gone to Jadu'n. Just walked out on his life, leaving everything behind, and wasn't coming back. At least, not any time soon. Hells, for all Asher knew, maybe not ever. Not even Ryley knew how long he was going to be gone, according to what Vic said, so Asher couldn't count on Ryley coming back.
“I'm sorry,” Vic said, breaking into his thoughts.
Asher looked at him. “For what? All you did was tell me the truth.”
“Well, yeah, but it can't be easy. Hells, I don't even find this easy and I'm not–”
Asher waited, then asked, “Not what?”
Vic sighed. “Not his boyfriend. Not stuck in a hospital, inadvertently injured by him.”
“It wasn't his fault.”
“Wasn't it, though?” Vic asked. “In a way, I mean. He could have addressed this long ago, but–”
“Vic,” Asher interrupted. “He didn't want it to be true. For whatever reason. And that was his choice.”
Vic frowned, studying him. “How can you take this so easily?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he just…left you here. He could have at least stayed for a little while—been here for you—before walking off like nothing else mattered.”
“But that's just it,” Asher insisted. “He thinks what he's doing is being there for me.”
Vic shook his head. “I still don't think he should have just left like that. If it had been him lying there, would you have left him to recover alone?”
Asher shrugged. “No, but I'm not him, and he's not me. He's doing what he thinks is right.”
Vic was silent for a long moment, then asked, “So you're going to let him go? Just like that?”
Asher snorted a laugh. “You mean, even if I had a choice?” he asked, waving a hand at himself. Vic grimaced, and Asher sighed. “Yeah, I'm gonna let him go. It's not like I could stop him even if I wanted to.”
Vic frowned. “You don't want to?”
Asher shook his head. “It's Ryley's life. It's his identity. I'm not gonna try to change who he is just to suit my needs. That's not how it works.” He held up a hand before Vic could speak again. “Don't get me wrong: I am going to go see him, just as soon as I can walk on my own again, but not to ask him to come home. Just to see him. To tell him I miss him. That I love him.” He paused and shrugged. “That's all.”
Vic sat back in his chair. “You are…” He trailed off and shook his head.
“I'm just being practical.”
“I was going to say…remarkably forgiving.”
Asher tilted his head. “And you're not?”
Vic frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Ryley was cheating on you,” Asher pointed out, “for years, from what he said. And you knew it. Yet…you stayed with him.” Vic looked down at the floor. “That sounds awfully forgiving to me.” When Vic continued silent, Asher asked, “Why did you stay?”
Vic folded his hands, looked toward the door, blew out a breath, then looked down at his shoes again. “Because I kept hoping I could save him,” he murmured.
“Save him?” Asher frowned. “Save him from what?”
Vic glanced up at him and shook his head, then looked away again.
“Is this that thing you said he needed to know for himself first?” Asher asked, and Vic nodded. “So it's not just the mage thing? It's something more?”
Vic nodded again.
Asher studied Vic in silence while Vic still focused on his folded hands. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” Vic whispered. “I kept hoping–” He straightened in his seat and ran a hand down his face before blowing out a heavy sigh. “I wanted to be there for him when it all finally came together. Yes, he cheated on me. Yes, he broke my heart. But I knew, someday, he was going to figure out what happened, and I was determined to be there to help him get through it. I've seen too many lives destroyed by trauma. Ryley is–” He chuckled and shook his head. “A flighty, immature joker who doesn't take anything seriously and can't be faithful to save his life—at least, not with me—but he's also a very caring person, very good at his job, very talented, and overall just…very good, in his own way. I didn't want the truth to destroy him.”
Asher waited, then asked, “And you're still not going to tell me what it is?”
Vic looked at him and shook his head. “Not until he figures it out for himself.” Asher nodded, and Vic asked, “That's it? You're not even gonna try to get it out of me?”
“Why should I? It's your business. Yours and his.”
Vic breathed a laugh. “You are a remarkably pragmatic, level-headed guy, despite–” He broke off and tilted his head. “No, because of everything, I think?”
Asher shrugged. “I had a lot of things thrown at me that I couldn't control. You just…deal with them, you know? Not much else you can do but try to make the best of it.”
Vic nodded, looking back down at his hands. Before he could say anything, his phone beeped, and Vic pulled it from his inside jacket pocket, sighing when he read whatever was on the screen. Vic stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and waved a hand at the bed. “And the best of this?”
Asher chuckled. “Well, I'll have a lot of time to read. Uncle Greg's bringing me books for the exams I was supposed to take so I could start school next semester. Then again…” He waved a hand at his confined body.
Vic clapped him on the shoulder. “You'll get there. Your uncle gonna be here soon?”
Asher glanced at a clock. “Yeah, probably any minute.”
“Good.” Vic waved his phone. “I need to get to the office. Boss is chomping for that case report.”
“Ah.” Asher nodded. “The missing kid?”
“Yeah,” Vic said, nodding. “At least this one I could actually rescue.” He gave Asher a tired smile and headed for the door.
“Vic?” Asher called. Vic stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “You could probably still save Ryley, you know, from…whatever it is, even if you two are just friends.”
Vic smiled and shook his head. “Something tells me you're the one who's gonna be rescuing him now.”
With that, Vic gave a parting nod and walked out the door, leaving Asher alone with thoughts of Ryley and more questions about what this bad secret could possibly be.
* * *
RYLEY GASPED in a breath as he lurched upright and awake, only to trip and fall, landing face-first in a bed of baby's breath.
Baby's breath? Ryley blinked, shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Sure enough, he was lying across a garden bed, his hands pressed into rich soil surrounding an abundance of baby's breath, and it was daytime instead of the middle of the night.
What the hells?
“Ah, you have finally awoken.”
Ryley turned over, pushing himself away from
the flowers, just as Master Ross came to crouch at his side.
“What happened?” Ryley asked.
Master Ross smirked and reached up to touch Ryley's hair, flicking away tiny flower petals and bits of soil that had gotten tangled in it during his fall. “You fell asleep in the midst of your meditations.”
“Oh.” Ryley blinked. “Right.” They'd been sitting outside, working on some basic drills that would help Ryley focus his powers, and he'd gotten so frustrated that he started losing control and asked for a few minutes to count his breaths and calm down. “Why'd you let me sleep?”
“You looked quite exhausted, dear boy,” Master Ross said, his fingers still delicately plucking at Ryley's hair. “I could not bear to disturb you.”
Ryley groaned. He'd only been on Jadu'n for two days, and already he felt completely worn out. How in all seven hells was he going to survive several months of this? Or more?
Not that he had a choice. He had to get this power under control so that he couldn't hurt anyone ever again.
Ryley pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself off, idly watching as Master Ross waved a hand, healing the scar Ryley had unintentionally cast upon the garden. “I can't believe you do this to kids.”
Master Ross looked up at him. “Do what, precisely?”
“This,” Ryley said, gesturing all around. “All this. The training, the lessons, the endless hours…I'm a fully-grown man and I'm already having trouble keeping up. How can you justify doing this to kids?”
Master Ross stood. “Well, for one thing, you are pushing yourself quite a bit harder and faster than we normally require of our students.”
“Oh.”
“We certainly do not confine the children to their studies. That would be sheer cruelty. We allow them to play and learn and live their lives. It is why most magi require years of training before they are ready to face their Rajali trials. Some are more determined and learn faster than others, yet you seem to be pushing yourself to the breaking point.” The mage paused and gave Ryley a friendly smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “There is no rush.”
