Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  A sliver of worry snuck through Julianne's bones. “Margit… you don’t think—”

  “That he’s the leader of the New Dawn? Hah!” Margit slapped her knee, laughing. “That old codger would jump off a cliff before he took charge of an apprentice, let alone a gaggle of moon-eyed cows like that. No, he’s different, but in a way I can’t even explain.”

  “Then how the hell am I supposed to get him to come back with me?” Julianne pulled at a loose blanket thread, trying to wrap her head around this strange man she’d never met.

  “Make it a puzzle. A challenge, if you will. Julianne, where your drive comes from protecting the innocent, his is to find the answer. It sounds dry and heartless, and that’s because he is. Well, not heartless, but he just doesn’t understand people enough to care about them like you and me.”

  “You told me he’s a good man. How can he be if he doesn’t care about what’s right, about helping people?” Julianne’s brow wrinkled.

  Margit pursed her lips, thinking. Then, she touched a hand to Julianne’s head and muttered a word as her eyes turned white. Julianne’s vision blurred. When it cleared, she didn’t see the room she’d been standing in a moment ago.

  She saw a man, older than her, but not ancient. He walked through the Temple halls, past a tapestry she recognized. Instead of faded and moth-eaten, it was bright and clean. The man strode around a corner, not looking up from the book he was buried in.

  A young Margit approached him. “Get your head out of that, Art. You’ll miss dinner, and I know you didn’t have lunch.”

  “But Megs, I think I’ve found it! I know why Queen Bethany Anne left, and I think that’s why everything changed when she did!”

  “Eating first won’t make her come back, and sure as hell won’t make it so she never left. Come on.”

  Margit tugged on Artemis’s arm, but he resisted. “Don’t you understand? I’ve been looking for this information for years! I can’t, I can’t stop. Not now. Just… not now.” His face was pained and as he spoke, his breathing picked up. Through Margit’s memory, Julianne could feel his panic, his worry that stopping now might make him lose it all.

  “Ok, Artie. It’s ok. You sit here and read, find your answers.”

  Artemis nodded blankly, his emotions receding as he backed off into a quiet corner, slid down against the wall and sank back into his book. He didn’t react to Margit’s instructions to stay but, when the vision blipped forwards a little, he did rouse enough to absentmindedly nibble on the fruit and bread she had brought from the dining hall.

  “We took care of him as best we could, but we couldn’t make him stay.” Sadness touched Margit’s voice and feelings. “Oh, he could function alright as long as he remembered to eat and bathe, it’s just he wasn’t very personable. I knew he’d be happier away from here, in a place that’s quiet and lonely, but it’s hard to really understand that. Even with powers like ours.”

  Julianne shook her head, wondering how in the world she would be able to get this man to help her. Then, setting her shoulders, she decided it didn’t matter. She had to, for the good of her people, so she would. She would find a way.

  “That’s my girl!” Margit cuffed her under the chin, then pushed herself to her feet. “Now, you get some sleep. You need to meet your escort nice and early, and rearick don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  That was true, Julianne thought with a grimace. She pulled back the bedspread and slipped underneath, determined to relish her last night on a soft mattress. After only a short meditation, she slipped into turbulent dreams.

  Julianne stood at the great doors of the Temple. Her people gathered behind her, cheering and celebrating the first steps of her journey and ahead, a horse waited patiently, saddled and ready to take her to the Madlands.

  Danil appeared on one side of her, Zoe on the other. “We hope you have a wonderful journey, Master, and return with the help you seek.” Zoe kissed the back of her hand and gave a gentle push.

  “Master, your horse is waiting.” The kind faced rearick smiled and gestured her forwards, but Julianne's heart tore at the thought of leaving her people behind.

  “Go on. We'll be fine,” Margit said over her shoulder.

  Still, Julianne hesitated, poised on the top step, one foot out and a hand on the door frame for balance. She tried to ignore the feeling of wrongness, that this wasn't what she was meant to be doing.

  “Where are my bags?” Julianne asked. A tumble of butterflies writhed in her stomach, and she wracked her mind for anything she may have forgotten.

  “On the horse,” Danil said. “Everything’s ready.”

  Julianne looked into his clear, blue eyes. Her heart reached out to him, but she didn’t speak.

  “You’re nervous,” he said, smiling. “Here. I picked these this morning. Your favorite color, for luck.” He plucked a pretty purple flower from his pocket and tucked it behind her ear.

  Julianne had never seen one like it before, with its deep throat and curled tips. “Where did you find it?” she asked.

  Danil laughed. “A pretty little sparrow came to my window this morning. I think it was gathering pretties for a nest, and it left me this. As soon as I saw it, I knew you’d love it.”

  Ice slammed into Julianne’s chest and her eyes widened. This wasn’t her dream. Never, in all the years she had known him, had she dreamed of Danil as anything but what he was: blind. Her Danil could not have ‘seen’ the sparrow, or the flower.

  Gasping, she squeezed her eyes tight shut. Forming a wall of stone, she shoved, shattering the small weight that pressed against her mind.

  8

  Julianne opened her eyes, and almost screamed. She was perched on her windowsill, one foot out and ready to take a single step that would send her plummeting onto the stones below. She spun, jumping down onto the floor as her attackers still stood, dazed after being shoved so brutally from her mind.

  Her movement shocked them awake. Adrenaline pumping, she knew her mind wasn’t calm enough for a calculated attack. It didn’t have to be. Their defenses were down and even as she pushed an alarm to every mystic in the Temple, she thrust into the mind of the first man.

  Normally, mind control was a delicate thing. You didn’t want to cause damage, or leave a lasting impression.

  Not this time.

  Julianne twisted and hammered, severing connections and pulling out virtual wires. The man screamed, his shriek dying down to a gurgled stammer as he fell to the floor convulsing.

  His companions looked on in horror until one turned to Julianne. Satisfied her first victim wouldn’t be joining the fight again, she went to work on the next, piercing a soft spot in his mind, his mental shield warped by terror.

  She fed into it, building paranoia onto the horror of his comrade’s death, pulling in the dark of the night and his suspenseful trek through the sleeping Temple. His fear grew, swallowing him.

  A noise outside was the final catalyst and he shoved past Julianne, knocking her down as he ran past. Desperate to escape whatever monster he’d helped her create in his mind, he cast himself out the window, his screams ending with a sickening crunch and silence.

  Julianne threw her mind at her final attacker, but he’d had time to erect his defenses. He didn't have the impenetrable shield Donna used, but Julianne had burned through a massive amount of energy dealing with his friends.

  “Your tricks won’t work on me, bitch,” he laughed.

  “Please…” Julianne took a step backwards, raising her hands.

  He moved closer, his greasy smile growing as he watched her plead.

  “Please, don’t hurt—”

  He took one more step and Julianne smirked. She whipped a fist out, punching him square in the nose. Stunned, he reeled back, choking on blood. Her foot was next, snapping up to make contact with his already broken cartilage, then a second one towards the groin.

  He doubled over, making it all too easy to plant her knee into his already smashed-in face. Coughing o
ut a splatter of blood, he collapsed onto the floor.

  One of the first changes Julianne had made to the teaching curriculum was to add in lessons on how to use magic while also concentrating on other things. She never wanted one of her students to be so confident in their mystic ability that they underestimated a non-magic opponent.

  By playing weak and desperate, she had made her attacker buy in to the idea that magic was everything, that without it, she couldn’t fight. Then, she hit him—literally—with the last thing he expected.

  “Three strikes, dipshit,” she said, staring over him. This time, the smile was on her face. Her door flung open as she dropped into a fighting stance, quickly relaxing when she saw her own guards piling in.

  “Shit on a stick. What the fuck happened in here?” Aldred asked, eyes wide.

  “Remember all those lessons I insisted on that had nothing to do with magic?” Julianne asked. Aldred and his companions nodded. “He didn’t take them.” She pointed at the man on the ground in a heap.

  A crowd had gathered down the hallway, but Julianne was too tired to reach out mentally. When a commotion started up behind them and someone shoved through, she flinched, expecting worse news. Relief soaked her bones when she saw Danil. He rushed up to throw his arms around her.

  “Are you ok?” he asked. He blinked, white eyes off in the distance. Then, he blanched. “Bitch and Bastard. What the fuck happened to his face? What did he do, call you a girl?”

  It was Julianne’s pet hate. She wasn’t a girl; she was a woman, and Master of the Temple. Anyone who treated her otherwise would get their ass handed to them in short measure.

  “I’m fine.” Relief drained away as she pushed him back. “But we need to figure out how these men got inside, and if there are any more of them. Where’s Gunther?”

  “Can’t reach him, Master. I sent a runner up to wake him, but he wasn’t in his room.” Aldred’s face creased with worry. “We’re missing another, too. Daved couldn’t be found when William went to relieve him earlier.”

  “Why the bloody hell didn’t you raise the alarm then?” Julianne snapped. The last guard rotation was at midday.

  Aldred shrugged, averting his gaze. “It’s not unusual. Daved enjoys the elixir just a bit more than he should. We thought he must be passed out in a hallway somewhere. I’d planned to take him off rotation until he sorted it out. This was his last shift.”

  Hoping it wasn’t his last ever, Julianne mobilized the watching mystics. “Groups of three, scour the Temple first. Stay mind-linked with another group and if anyone drops out, sound the alarm. Aldred, you and two others will stay here and look after these two.”

  Aldred saluted. Before she turned to go, Julianne kicked one of the unconscious men. Not hard, but enough that Aldred winced. “If either of them wake up, let me know.”

  The crowd in the hallway thinned quickly as mystics—eyes glossing over with white film as they summoned mental links—darted off to search for their missing comrades. The fear in the air was palpable.

  Melanie? Julianne sent with some effort. The children.

  I’m with them now. Would you like us to assist on the search?

  As much as a dozen extra eyes would help, Julianne shuddered, thinking of what they may find. No. Keep them occupied and shielded. Do you want me to send a group to help?

  No, I have two of the guards with me. We’ll just practice our emergency drills. Despite Melanie’s loathing of violence, it had been her idea some months ago to create emergency practice drills for the children.

  They would evacuate to one of the many hidden passages within the Temple and erect the strongest shields they could maintain. Once hidden, they would sink into a silent meditation and reduce their heart rates as low as possible. This would make them all but invisible to anyone searching for them, with or without magic.

  Thank you. Julianne sent a flood of gratitude to the woman, who replied with the same. They often butted heads, but each knew the other’s sole motivation was to keep their people safe.

  An hour later, a loud scream was punctuated by a sensation of overwhelming grief, as the discovery of two bodies was passed through the mystic Temple as fast as thought. Gunther and Daved, throats slit, had been rolled into a bush just outside the gates and covered over with branches.

  No. Julianne fought the urge to fall to her knees with grief. Not Gunther.

  He’d spent more time by her side than anyone since she had taken her position as Master. Heart racing, hoping she was wrong, she sprinted to the gates just in time to see both bodies being laid on the ground.

  “Fuck!” she screamed as she turned, then punched the stone wall behind her. She leaned into the cold surface, teeth clenched so hard she was sure they’d crack.

  Strong hands grasped her shoulders, kneading them. “We’ll find them, Jules. All of them. And we’ll make sure they pay for what they did.” Danil tried to pull her into a hug, but she brushed him off.

  Julianne forced her jaw to relax and took a deep breath, hardening her grief into a ball of solid metal. This, she thought. This will drive me harder than any loss I’ve taken, Donna. You don’t know what you’ve done.

  When Julianne looked up, her eyes were hard. Though tears glittered, they didn’t fall. “It doesn’t make sense. How did they get to them? They shouldn’t have been able to make it past Gunther, no matter how fucked up Daved was on Elixir.”

  Aldred? Julianne sent to the guardsman. Either of our friends woken up yet?

  Not yet, they… Julianne felt a spike of alarm from Aldred. Ahh, shit. Master, I’m sorry, I should’ve kept a closer eye.

  A quick image flitted through Julianne’s mind of Aldred turning over the man she’d fought with. He was grey and lifeless past the smear of blood that saturated his lower face.

  A cold weight pressed at her heart. How?

  Mostly likely suffocated. Aldred’s guilt and pain came through the mental link. I’m sorry.

  Despite the dead man's attempt on her life, Julianne felt a pang of regret for the life wasted. Not your fault, she sent. Bastard came here to kill me. Who knows what else they’d planned?

  Julianne shivered, then nudged Danil. “I have to go back in. Stay here, make sure everyone is accounted for. Could you…” She couldn’t form the thought, but Danil understood.

  “I’ll see to Daved and Gunther. You go. Try not to implode any more heads unless it’s needed.” Danil leaned in to give her another hug, and this time, she accepted the gesture. It warmed her slightly, and she breathed in his familiar scent, steadying herself.

  Danil pulled away and called over another mystic to stand by him and act as his eyes. He directed the guards and others around to hoist the bodies and carry them inside.

  9

  Julianne slipped away quietly, darting to the upstairs room where Aldred waited. He bowed as she entered and tried to stammer another apology.

  “I don’t need apologies from you, Aldred, I need leadership. You are now Master of the Guard. Take the body, leave the other. You will need to organize your troops and increase the security. At daybreak, come and see me. I will brief you on last night’s meeting, you’ll need to know about the changes.”

  Aldred gaped, frozen as he tried to compute the rapid-fire instructions Julianne sent at him. “I’m… Master of the… But Master, I just let a man die under my watch!”

  “Bloody hell, Aldred,” she replied. “You let a prisoner suffer the fate he was probably intended for anyway. Can’t quite put that in the major fuck up column, can we? You’re a good man, and I trust you. Right now, I need you. Can you do as I ask, or should I turn the duty over to William? If you accept the position, he will be your second.”

  Aldred drew himself up and offered a crisp salute. “I will pledge my heart, mind, and soul to you, Master. You can rely on me.”

  Julianne allowed herself a smile. “For the love, you’re not pledging to me, Aldred, but to the mystics of the Heights.”

  Gunther’s oath had sim
ply been ‘to the mystics’ and Julianne hated that she’d had to make a distinction. The mystics had always been her family; now it seemed that some no longer were.

  She shooed Aldred away to his duty and closed her eyes, searching for her center. She found it, not the calm, still pool she normally held, but a lake of frozen ice. She stayed there a moment, honing her mind. Then, her eyes flicked open, white as snow, onto the unconscious man at her feet.

  Wake up. She sent the thought with a powerful push, and was gratified when the body twitched. The man rolled, then cracked his eyes open. They drifted over to Julianne’s face, then past it, uncomprehending.

  Julianne blinked and her eyes cleared. She waited a moment, but he didn’t move. She pushed away her familiar headache, muttered a word under her breath, and her eyes glazed over again with white mist.

  Then, she dove into his mind.

  She coldly examined the damage she’d done. It surprised even her. Julianne was the strongest mystic that lived, according to Selah. It was a hard thing to gauge, but she was clearly leaps and bounds ahead of her more experienced peers. This? This was new.

  For a brief moment, she felt regret; Then, Gunther’s swollen face came to her own mind. Her angst fading, she pushed through the broken psyche to rifle through the man’s memories.

  His name was Jared. Even getting that was a trial. As memories floated past, Julianne snatched at them, but most were too torn to make any sense. She saw the back of a farmer’s cart, oversized. Probably something from childhood. A meal, something with potatoes, and a snippet of a song caught in a repetitive loop.

  A warmth spread over shoulders as he donned a blue robe. Gone. A man, a shadowy figure that came with a sense of pleasure, a gift for doing well. It quickly soured. A crawling like a million ants beneath the skin, light enough that it wasn’t pain, but sickening. He had done something wrong, displeased the Master…