The Darkest Magic

by Mark August

  The Darkest Magic

  Mark August

  readmarkaugust.com

  Contents

  1. Discovery

  2. Exploration

  3. Curse

  4. Cure

  Also by Mark August

  One

  Discovery

  Cormac leaned his body weight against the door, lifting the handle with both arms to prevent the latch from clicking. He pressed his ear against the thin wood to listen for followers. Confident he was alone, he turned toward his hidden study.

  The back storage room stunk of mold, rust, stone, and mortar. A beam of light from the slit of a window filtered through the drifting dust, but Cormac didn't need the light to count six paces to the makeshift table pulled together from discarded parts. Nothing was out of place.

  Risking one glance toward the door, the young man removed a carton the size of a hardcover book from behind the desk. Flipping it open, Cormac ran his hands over his precious stores of half-used wax candles. His mother kept impeccable records, and she'd know if candlesticks disappeared from the shop's inventory.

  He singled out two small ones and stuck them in wooden holders at the desk corner. Cormac drew in a breath to fill his lungs and let the pressure release out from his nose. One more breath, and he'd be ready.

  Opening his eyes, he stared at the first candle. In a puff, light came into being, and his mind danced with delight. Energy pumped through his veins, and his soul rejoiced in the moment. With power already present in his heart, soul, and mind, a fleeting thought was enough to coax the next dancing light to claim the second wick.

  Cormac pulled over an armchair from the edge of the room. Even if someone stumbled across his private study, they'd see the space for its purpose, storage. A few old chairs, stuffing poking through holes and material rubbed to the merest threads, piled in one corner. The old table fit the decor, and piles of dried cleaning supplies, broken buckets, and discarded scraps found their final resting place here.

  Confident and ready, Cormac placed his prized possession on the desktop. The worn leather covers with dark spots from sweat-stained fingertips protected the aged yellow pages within. Cormac bent down to inhale the old leather, but the pages, with their brittle yellow smell, wafted across his senses. Pulling open the cover, he marveled at the beautiful artwork within. Elaborate script in a fluid, decorative hand graced each page. And the owner spared no expense for the ornate flourishes and illustrations across the page.

  Cormac ran his fingers across the text, captivated with an archaic language he struggled to learn. There was so much knowledge within this tome, and he wanted to pry free the secrets lost from another time.

  His opportunity to study this work would be limited. Cormac's father would start repairs on the work’s binding within a week. For now, the book rested on a shelf, waiting its turn at his family’s impeccable repair skills. Cormac couldn’t stand the thought of this work of art filled with ancient secrets to lay on a shelf.

  Cormac started again on page one, sounding out the words of the forgotten language. He cross-checked his work against other volumes from his research, but it was a slow slog. He paced himself because the journey was worth it.

  Banging on the front door to the bookshop interrupted his study. A burst of panic fueled his magic and snuffed the flames. A glance toward the box and the candlesticks flew of their own accord and hid in their resting place. Cormac didn't have time to peel the spillover wax before voices made their way through the shop.

  "That's ok, sir. I'm sure Cormac is in the back, hiding the bookshelves again," a young male voice leaked through the door. Cormac's panic dissipated as he recognized Raham's voice.

  Two raps on the door and Cormac let his friend inside.

  "You were darn close to having your father looking for you, Cormac. Taking risks during the afternoon isn't like you." The young man's dark features lit with his mischievous smile. Wild black hair that hadn't been cut in far too long amplified his easygoing style.

  "But look at it." Cormac pointed to the desk at the thick book with the pages still wide open. "There's nothing like it."

  Raham ignored his friend and went straight to the table. "Where’s the light?” His hands fumbled through the desk drawers in search of a striker or a match.

  Cormac willed the box to open, returned the candlesticks, and coaxed them into flame. “Better?”

  “No way. Magic in the house. This better be good.”

  Before they could get into the words on the page, a soft knock at the door interrupted them. Cormac and Raham bolted upright and spun toward the exit. The latch raised and clicked.

  “Just me.” Maren slipped inside and secured the door behind her, knowing the trick to keep the sounds to a minimum. Her skirts billowed out as she slipped across the distance to peer at the book. “Oh wow, I can’t believe your father is letting you take this work into this dump.”

  “That’s a bit of an overstatement, Maren,” Cormac said. He couldn’t suppress a grin spreading across his lips. “He doesn’t know.”

  “You boys are awful.” She slid between the pair and peeked down at the pages. Her fingers traced over the words and started whispering the phrases.

  “You can read this?” Raham asked.

  “Although I’m just a miller’s daughter in the backwaters of the Northern States and not a world traveler like you and your family, that doesn’t make me dumb.”

  “Maren, people haven’t used this language in hundreds of years,” Cormac said.

  Maren raised an eyebrow and glanced up from the pages. “Do you think I’m making this up?”

  “He’s right.” Raham gestured toward the volume. He rested his finger on a lengthy phrase with flourishes across the letters. “What does this say?”

  Maren focused her eyes. “The time of the world draws near.” She smirked at the pair. “That’s translated, of course.”

  Cormac sensed the tingle of magic in the air, and the revelation made sense.

  “You guys going to let me in?” The voice was low and just outside the door.

  “Jolina, keep it down. I’ve got it, Cormac.” Raham slipped past the pair as they huddled over the desk and reached the door.

  He drew in the last of their quartet, Jolina, daughter of the reeve. Most days, she was in the fields with her father, supervising the planting and the reaping. She was the pride of her family and the most desired future spouse in the town. A year older than the others, she was close to marriage. But rumors in the small village claimed her father had a small dowry, and the prospects of marrying up the social structure seemed limited.

  None of that diminished their friendship. Their secrets united them in a town too small for their ambitions. Cormac looked back at the book, and he longed for the education that would get him out of this town. A world far outside the Northern States attracted the young man, but the family bonds sometimes felt like chains.

  “We should put this book back,” Raham said.

  The comments brought Cormac back to the moment. His friend started to close the book, but Maren reached out and grabbed his wrist.

  “No. There’s so much more here.”

  “I don’t like it,” Raham said. “There’s a dark message in here.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Jolina said. “Every word is a piece of art, and the illustrations… Is that gold in the ink? This book has to be worth a fortune.”

  “The knowledge is worth more,” Cormac said.

  “I’m serious, Cormac. Can’t you guys feel the shadow around this book? Like it’s laying wait for… something.”

  “This is beautiful. Cormac, what’s your father doing with this one? Please tell me he’s selling it,” Jolina said.

  Cormac shook his
head. “Repairs. I didn’t see the owner when they came into the shop, but the book jumped out—“

  “And that doesn’t bother you? Your family has thousands of books for sale, a library worth more than anyone in the town, and hundreds of books waiting for their return to glory. And this one book reached out to you,” Raham said. “I don’t like it.”

  “We heard you the first three times, Raham,” Maren said. “The messages are amazing.”

  “Stop using magic, Maren,” Raham said.

  “Wait, you guys are using magic in here?” Jolina asked. “In the back of the shop. No way.” She squeezed in tight to Maren and looked over her shoulder. “There're magical secrets in here?”

  Maren stepped aside and gave a devious grin. As Raham pulled in a deep breath for another protest, Cormac’s heightened senses from the trickle of magic picked up the muffled footsteps of someone from his family working their way to the back of the shop.

  “Clean it up,” Cormac ordered.

  Without hesitation, the small group executed the drill with precision and practice. Cormac and his friends often used this room for study, but they never pilfered expensive books for their personal use. And Cormac often longed for a few moments away from the grind of the work. The return to storage room was immediate, with the four of them working.

  Slipping back out the door with the book firmly in Raham’s hands behind his back, Cormac waved to his mother as she looked for a book in the stacks.

  “Meet later?” Cormac asked.

  “By the mill,” Maren said.

  The others nodded. Cormac decided he wouldn’t bring the book.

  Two

  Exploration

  The pool of water at the edge of the current was an excellent swimming hole, and Maren told everyone it belonged to her. For the small group of friends, the idle water just a dozen yards away from the river’s current was an oasis from their everyday lives.

  Trees formed a natural boundary and afforded shade over the quiet destination. Branches hung as if wishing to embrace the water’s tranquil surface. Poking just over the tops of the southern shore of the pool was the mill. The current furnished the power to keep the mill in full swing, but the swimming hole provided lazy relaxation with friends.

  Tonight, the moon cast its glow across the water’s surface. Fish hungered for the lingering food, and a splash marked their efforts to collect the elusive prize. Other animals stood watch as the Densen youth gathered in the failing light.

  “Did you bring the book?” Maren asked. Her eyes mirrored the moonlight, and Cormac was sure he could surrender himself in that gaze.

  Cormac shook his head and joined the group at the fallen log. He tugged off his shirt and hung it on a low branch.

  “Why did we come out here if you weren’t bringing the book?” Maren asked again.

  “Let’s see, Maren. The book doesn’t belong to Cormac, it’s worth more than we’ll make in our lifetime, and we’re sitting by a pool of water. Did I leave anything out?” Raham’s sarcasm could bite when Maren put on the airs of minor nobility.

  “Hey, it was a fair question. I mean, I didn’t get to spend time with you when you peeked through it,” Jolina said. “I’d like to use magic like you guys can. Was there something in the book?”

  “Something more,” Maren said.

  Cormac couldn’t let his friends fall apart over a book. He loved reading, and the knowledge people wanted to share with others was beyond value. His family supported their children’s studies and encouraged them to read everything, ask questions, and constantly learn. His parents’ lifelong wish for education appeared every night as they discussed their latest finds over the dinner table. Cormac didn’t remember a meal filled with this much tension.

  “We don’t know that, Maren.” Cormac held up his hand. “I know you can read that extinct language, but that doesn’t mean there’s some prophecy hidden in the text.”

  Maren jumped to her feet and thrust her fists into her hips. “I guess we won’t know now that you didn’t bring the book.”

  “Come on, Maren. Give Cormac a break. Raham is right about bringing the book down by the water,” Jolina said.

  Maren sat down and sulked. Cormac chuckled and got up. His toes squished in the thick mud at the riverbank, and the smells of the water blended with the local vegetation filled his lungs. He loved the summer and the hours in the evenings with his friends.

  Jolina stood beside him, staring into the depths of the pool. “Show me what you can do.”

  Cormac smiled and squatted down at the river’s edge. Deep breaths again, and he built the opening in his mind to allow the magic to flow. Waiting just a moment, he waved his palm over the water’s edge.

  The water crystallized and became a translucent sheet of white ice. It extended a few inches into their swimming hole, but it was a delightful sight in the heart of summer. As the power dissolved, the warm water claimed the intrusive ice.

  “I try to feel how you do that every time.” Jolina’s words were hushed and hesitant. It wasn’t like the young woman who had spent so many years with Cormac.

  “I think you’re trying too hard, Jolina. The first time I found I could do something special, the magic came to me. It wasn’t a push or a pull.”

  To prove his point, he created flickers of light around them. He envisioned a small flight of fireflies, but it was actual flames dancing around them and reflecting off the pool’s surface.

  “Hey, do you guys hear that whispering?” Raham asked.

  “What whispering?” Maren stood up and looked toward the surrounding trees. Her family owned this land, and everyone in Densen knew it.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Jolina said. All the confidence returned to her voice.

  One of the strange lessons they learned as they discovered magic is how much their senses amplified when using arcane power. If anyone would have found someone closing in on the group, it would have been Cormac. He’d been the one channeling magic. Just in case, he relinquished his control on the flickering lights and concentrated on the surrounding grove.

  Nothing.

  “There, again. I can’t make out the words.”

  “There’s nothing out here but us, Raham,” Cormac said. “I was just using magic,” he glanced over at Jolina to catch her wince, “and I couldn’t hear anything in the woods.”

  Cormac clamped his flow of magic and came back to the ordinary world of gloomy light, gurgling rivers, and swaying trees in the shadows.

  “That was the creepiest thing. I thought someone was talking to me. Or trying to,” Raham said. “I couldn’t make out the words.”

  “If you let me use my magic more often, maybe I could’ve translated for you,” Maren said.

  She was still mad at Cormac, but he wouldn’t let her shape this evening’s flow. “I don’t think I’ve seen the river run this high in years.”

  “Good for the crops,” Jolina said. The group settled and watched leaves fall into the water, swirl at the edge of the swimming pool, and then find their way into the flowing current. “Can you guys help me try again?”

  Maren rolled her eyes, and Raham groaned. Cormac slid closer to her. “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Because. Look at the three of you. Each of you can do something amazing. Or a lot of amazing with just a few thoughts. I’m stuck here as the… normal one.”

  Cormac slid his hands into hers. Although most of the laborers in the fields worked for her parents, she was no stranger to hard work. Sowing and reaping needed every able body, and she had the callouses to prove her worth. But she was pretty in every way.

  “Close your eyes and let everything else flow away. Listen to the sound of the river and its unending course,” he said.

  Wrinkles left her face, and her cheeks smoothed. Too many times, she grasped to find something that her face scrunched like she tasted sour milk. Today, she relaxed. But Cormac couldn’t sense anything.

  “What’s wrong with me? Why can�
�t I do this?” Jolina asked.

  Maren joined the pair and linked her hands with both Cormac and Jolina. Cormac immediately noticed the deep reservoir of her strength. Magic swelled against her boundaries. Where Cormac embodied patience, Maren probed and pushed.

  Jolina’s eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t break contact with their hands. “What was that?”

  “Something we haven’t tried before. Cormac likes to teach, but sometimes you just need a boot in the pants.” Maren smiled and looked into Jolina’s eyes. “Raham, join us.”

  Raham’s bare feet approached like a prisoner to the executioner's block. Each painful step crushed Cormac’s sensitive hearing. Cormac broke the circle long enough to allow Raham’s hand to fit within the group.

  Cormac sensed Raham’s nuanced power trickling into the circle of friends. Maren pushed her power again as Cormac provided the foundation for the work. In their months working with Jolina, they never tried all three of them. What if she couldn’t touch the arcane world?

  Cormac brushed those thoughts aside. He discovered his new abilities only a few months ago, and Maren and Raham soon followed. Jolina would have her day. Cormac focused again on the circle.

  The group tried again and completed the flow. Jolina’s heart raced under the touch as she found her source of power. It was raw and powerful, and Jolina broke the bond.

  Flames danced from hand to hand as her face reflected the newfound power and released its inner light.

  “I can feel everything. Everything.” Her words were a hushed race of thoughts.

  Words couldn’t express the powers or the feelings in each of the mages. Even with a shared experience, they could never describe what magic’s flow meant to each of them. Now, they didn’t have to.

  With the circle broken, Raham put his forefingers against his temples and rubbed vigorously. He shook his head, trying to banish something. Maren stood with her arms crossed, savoring the moment of power within the entire group. Cormac cataloged what each of them looked like at this moment.