by T J Kelly
As my only remaining blood relative, Armageddon belonged by my side. Besides, it was his sister’s funeral. By rights, he should have been with me when I released the ashes, but I took that away from him. I wondered if my uncle would forgive my selfishness and keep my actions a secret. Most magicians, light or dark, would be shocked by my actions and hold them against me. And magicians had long memories.
During the Ceremony of Remembrance, the family releases the ashes together. Armageddon was about to find out that I already had. He didn’t look gentle or forgiving, especially in his tailored black three-piece suit. He looked grim and intimidating.
I would have to throw myself on his mercy. I bet I would start crying again when I told him that I already released the ashes. That wouldn’t be so bad with just him around. Besides, the only child of his sister weeping in front of him might ease his wrath.
And then the most infamous magician of the last five hundred years took my hand and lightly squeezed it. “My dear,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for your loss. I want you to know I’m here for you, no matter what.”
The contact made my determination waiver, and I almost burst into tears. My parents had never been the warm and fuzzy type. Sure, I received an occasional approving pat as a child, but they grew few and far between by the time I was a teenager. They loved me. I knew that without a doubt, but they never really touched me. If Armageddon hugged me, which he probably would since it was a funeral, after all, I would break down again. And I couldn’t let that happen.
I pulled my hand away, smiling a little in my uncle’s general direction, hoping that it would soften the rejection. And it wasn’t like I didn’t appreciate the gesture. I didn’t object to his comfort, or to him. But how could he possibly know that? He hadn’t seen me since I was little.
Armageddon was my legal guardian and in control of my apprenticeship. Reaching legal majority was a process that started with my seventeenth birthday. I would gradually gain more rights until I went through my final majority at twenty-one. By law, I wasn’t allowed to be truly independent for another five years. And I just avoided his kindness. Rejected the most powerful man alive. The man who controlled my fate.
What an idiot.
To my surprise, my uncle’s only answer was a smile as genuine as it was gentle. Taking my arm, he escorted me to my seat. It was a stiff and formal pose but expected during any magical gathering. His body language didn’t show any offense. Maybe he understood after all.
Thinking I had somebody who might be on my side almost brought me to tears again. I struggled against them. All my crying and internal drama were getting so ridiculous that I was starting to annoy myself.
Vir Fortis, the mayor of San Francisco, started the ceremony as soon as we were in our seats. Like most magicians, he had chosen a name for himself during his Ascension Ceremony. Magicians chose names to inspire fear or hope, or show who they wanted to be. When he adopted the name Vir Fortis, the mayor declared himself to be a “hero,” or “strong man.”
A tiny snort huffed out of my nose. Not that he was a bad guy, but really? The name was ridiculous.
Of course, my magical name might not have been any better. My mother had asked me to claim the name Ethereal and wouldn’t listen when I said that name was better suited to a stunning blond girl with blue-green eyes. Somebody tall and willowy and so lovely that she didn’t seem real. Nobody with brown hair and eyes like mine could ever be described as ethereal.
Not that it mattered what name I wanted since I couldn’t connect to my magic. Oh, sure, I would eventually claim whatever magician’s name I wanted as soon as I demonstrated my magic - even if I was eighty when I finally figured it out. But I couldn’t imagine an eighty-year-old woman choosing the name “Ethereal,” so I planned to select a name that would actually work for me.
So far, I had nothing. And since I wasn’t likely to suddenly connect to my magic after years of failure, it was a moot point.
My uncle nudged my arm lightly to get my attention. The mayor had stopped speaking. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard a word of his speech.
We stood as one, Armageddon stepping slightly back to allow me the honor of lifting the empty urn from the pedestal. It had held countless Rectors over the years but no longer hosted my parents. The time had come for Armageddon to learn that a person without magic chanted the Words of Release instead of him. I wondered how accurate the whispers about his unreliable temperament and anger were, then I pushed the worries out of my head. It didn’t matter. He was my family, and that meant he needed to get used to disappointment.
We walked ceremoniously, my spine straight and stiff. If somebody put a book on my head, it would have balanced perfectly. I had even attended a class on how to walk that way since that was the kind of thing magical events demanded. It took forever to get anywhere at that pace, but once we were outside where the crowd could no longer see us, Armageddon relaxed into a lilting roll.
“My dear, I know you already Released my sister and your father’s ashes. I could feel them make their way on the wind while I was traveling here. Some of the rumors you have heard about me are entirely accurate but know this: I would never begrudge a daughter her right to let her parents go in her own time. The magic of Release carries the ashes away, not the person chanting. It’s ancient and uncontrollable, so you did no harm.”
I stumbled. It was like he had read my mind. He knew what I did, and reassured me exactly when I needed it.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice quivering. I was giddy with relief. “I hope you understand that I meant no disrespect to you. I know you loved my mother and deserved to be there.”
“Miranda and I grew distant over the past few decades, but we were still family. I can feel her even now. Her loss saddens me, but you were her daughter. Your need is far greater than mine. Come, let’s walk to the cliff’s edge in case anyone is peeking through the mourning veils.”
He smiled at me, and a memory flashed across my mind. My uncle’s face held the same reassuring, confident look years ago when he told me he could toss me into the sky so high that I could fly away if I wanted to. And I believed him. I thought he could do anything. And from everything I had heard over the decade or so since I last saw him, he might actually be able to. Not that I trusted rumors.
I stopped worrying about studying under Armageddon. Things might not be that bad after all. His reputation had more bite than he did.
“I’ll take you to where I Released them,” I offered. “It’s the loveliest spot out here.”
We lapsed into silence as we retraced my nocturnal journey to the cliff’s edge. My ears caught the gentle sound of Armageddon murmuring quietly to himself. After I made out some of the words, I realized he was cataloging the bee-friendly plants that my mother always insisted we plant in the gardens at each of our estates. I wasn’t sure he realized he was doing it. My mother had always done the same thing when we took our walks, and she never noticed.
My heart swelled. This was a connection. A memory. My parents would never be completely gone as long as we remembered them.
We finally reached the cliffs and looked out over the water.
“Are you nervous about what happens next?” my uncle asked, breaking the silence that had settled over us.
I wondered how much he knew about me, but then I realized that everyone knew everything about me. Obviously, Armageddon knew I couldn’t perform magic. Every student in every school I had attended knew that, and they weren’t nearly as well-informed as my uncle.
“I don’t see how it’s possible to not be nervous. I never found my trigger. I’m going to humiliate myself.”
My uncle chuckled. “It’s not as bad as all that. Just try to relax and let it come. If it doesn’t, we’ll thank everyone for attending and I’ll shoo them out the door.”
I grinned. Three days of agony and loss, and there I was smiling like a fool. My uncle, shooing the most influential people in magical society. The image of him flapping his
hands to chase them off made me chuckle, and for the first time in, my laughter didn’t turn into more sobs.
Maybe I was finally gaining control over myself. Or, maybe this was the calm before the storm. Honestly, it could go either way.
“Thank you, Uncle. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you being here, supporting me.”
Armageddon studied me as we turned to walk back to the manor house. He seemed hesitant, not an emotion usually associated with my uncle. Like he was choosing his words carefully.
“I can feel it inside of you. You have more magic than anyone I’ve ever met. A powerful magic hums inside of you, even back when you were a tiny girl. I asked your mother to let me take you with me so I could help you, but Miranda grew quite irate. She loved you and refused to let you go. Later, I think she felt guilty about that, worrying that she was responsible for you not finding your trigger because she kept you from me. That made her pull away from you, Lia. I tried to reassure her that time with me was no guarantee of success, but mothers have a habit of second-guessing themselves.”
It was sweet that he wanted to comfort me. “This is on me, now,” I said. “I know that all too well. That’s why I haven’t been able to sleep since they died. I can’t stand the thought that after all this time I’m going to be the one who loses everything. And in front of all our enemies. The Taines even showed up. I swear almost every one of them is here, except maybe the apprentices.”
Armageddon nodded, allowing me to babble about my worries without interruption. I appreciated that, especially since I wasn’t even sure if I was making any sense. I glanced away, clamping my mouth shut. We were almost back to the house, and I stared up at the building as it loomed before us.
When the entire magical community moved, my father had the manor transferred to just outside of the San Francisco Bay Area. He once told me he left the ancestral castle behind in England because he thought it was too pretentious to set it down right there in California.
I always suspected it was really because he liked the clean lines of the Irish manor better. It was essentially a three-story white rectangle with black-lined windows and doors. The only change he ever made to it was to turn one brick wall into glass so we could take advantage of the view of the Pacific.
I sighed. I was stalling. The mourning veils obscuring the open French doors billowed and showed glimpses of the magicians waiting inside. Waiting for me. I didn’t want to go back. Not yet.
“We don’t have to go back inside if you’re not ready,” Armageddon suggested. He must have noticed that my steps had slowed to a crawl. My uncle used a spell to lighten the urn so I didn’t have to heave it like the night before, thankfully, but to me, it still felt as if it weighed a ton. It grew heavier with each step, accumulating the weight of every fear that bombarded my mind, holding me back. Fear that was impossible to shake it off.
I was too light-headed to concentrate. The anxiety I felt knowing I would fail was catching up with me, and the bodice of my dress shook from the thundering of my heart. I was in a near panic, and I knew I wasn’t going to make it through the day without a meltdown.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I blurted. But Armageddon just gave me a look of approval.
My uncle patted my arm as we entered the sunroom together. It was the only room large enough to hold the guests and a small fountain, a requirement at the Ascension. Why there had to be running Water instead of sitting in a small glass like the one that held the Earth element was beyond me. I knew from my studies that there was no more or less magic in running Water than Water in a cup. Even if it were a clay cup, which some might think would muffle Water’s magic since an Earth element would have surrounded it.
But who was I to question how magical things worked? Nobody. Nobody at all.
As Armageddon took the urn from my hands and settled it on the pedestal, the mayor completed the funeral for my parents with a few somber words. When he was done, the crowd of spectators shifted slightly in their seats and focused on me.
Showtime.
“Mirabilia Rector, please stand forth,” Vir Fortis said. He used my full name which was proper in ceremonies when a person had no magical name. I gulped. The only time my legal name had been used was when I was in trouble, and this heightened my anxiety.
Stepping onto a small raised platform, I moved closer to the mayor as he continued. “I call on the Elements. Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Heed me. The time has come for this petitioner to enter into your presence and begin her journey as keeper and worker of magic.”
I hoped nobody could tell that I was in the grip of a panic attack. I struggled to suck in enough air. My heart thundered in my ears so loudly that I could barely hear the mayor.
“I have come to demonstrate my power,” I said, thankfully right on cue. My voice was weak and wavering. Everyone could hear how scared I was. Oberon Taine, my father’s biggest enemy, smiled at me. A big, fat, smug grin. He was obviously enjoying my humiliation.
I closed my eyes to block him out. I had managed to avoid thinking about Oberon for three days, and I couldn’t afford to think about him now. Taking a deep breath, I tried to relax the way Armageddon suggested, and let the magic come. I couldn’t feel it, but I knew it was swirling around inside of me, just waiting to get out. I tried to grip onto it and perform one spell, any spell, even a basic spell. But nothing happened.
The room was dead silent. All I could hear was my own heart beating furiously in my ears, and I wondered if everyone else could hear it, too. I opened my mouth to say the words, magic words that carried spells with them, but like always, I choked on them instead. Non-magicians can’t speak magical words. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried, but I was determined to give it my all. But choking added to my dizziness.
I tried to find my uncle, but my vision was too blurry. Horrified, I realized that I was crying. Everyone could see the tears as they poured down my cheeks. I squeezed my eyes shut again so I wouldn’t have to see anyone looking at me. I especially didn’t want to see Oberon Taine laughing at me. Sitting there in triumph with his family, all of them direct bloodline magicians, gloating as he witnessed my humiliation. Until I failed to trigger my magic, no Rector had ever been vulnerable around him.
The Taine clan was our opposite in every way, enemies as old as time. And they were powerful. No family of magicians could stand against them, not the way we could. Only a magician with the blood of the Rectors could vanquish them. Now I was the last of our line and my inability to ascend meant the Taines had finally won.
I gave up trying to catch my breath. Accepting my failure, I turned my face away from Oberon’s direction and opened my eyes. My uncle must be there somewhere. He said he would shoo them away. I needed him. But I couldn’t find him. Black spots clouded my vision, and the world was shrouded in gray.
My chance was gone. I was falling on my face, literally, in front of every prominent magician in the city. But I didn’t hit the ground. In the moments before I fainted, I felt hands firmly grasping my arms. He was there. My uncle had come to my rescue after all.
Armageddon said something I didn’t understand, then all was darkness.
THREE
Plan B
My eyes snapped open. To my relief, I was in my bedroom instead of on the floor in front of a bunch of gawkers.
Even though I lost my family’s business, the house was still mine, and I had every right to be there. Still, I felt like a fraud, unworthy, and I groaned when the memory of my embarrassment came back to me.
A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” I called gruffly.
“It’s good to see you’re finally awake, my dear,” I heard a smooth voice say. I had only talked to him on two occasions in my life, but I recognized my uncle’s baritone without trouble.
“How long was I out?” I asked as I peered around the bed curtains. I tried to run my fingers through my hair, but it was too knotted and tangled.
“You slept through the afternoon and
all night. It’s now close to lunchtime, so I brought the food tray Cook made. Are you hungry?”
I thought about that for a moment. Was I? My appetite had disappeared once I heard the news about my parents. But the second I thought about it, I realized was ravenous. I didn’t need to tell him, though, because my stomach growled loud enough to answer for me. Armageddon must have heard it because he looked like he wanted to laugh.
“What do you have there?” I asked, trying to divert his attention from the groans coming from my belly.
A tea cart sat by the desk. My legs felt rubbery, and I was worried I would fall if I tried to stand and check it out for myself. My uncle lifted the silver dome and set it aside so he could take a peek for me.
“Looks like bread, cold cuts, and cheeses. A bunch of little jars filled with condiments. Some fruit. Quite a few pastries, too, croissants and muffins. Cookies. Well, look at that. Shortbread!” Armageddon popped something into his mouth and chewed. Once he swallowed, he said, “Oh, my mistake. You don’t have any shortbread.”
I cracked up. It felt good. And since Cook had provided far more than I needed, I didn’t begrudge him my favorite cookie.
“Sounds great. Give me a sec to pull myself together, and I’ll try to do that justice.” I hobbled towards the bathroom. My legs were stiff, but they managed to hold my weight.
I glanced in the mirror. Exactly as I had expected, my hair was sticking out like Medusa’s snakes all over my head.
Lovely.
I tugged a brush through my hair and washed my face. I even felt human again once I brushed my teeth. When I returned, Armageddon had moved one of the upholstered chairs that were usually near the window closer to the cart so we could sit together. I sank into its puffy comfort and nodded my gratitude.
“I know this may seem grossly imperious to you,” Armageddon said as I started to eat. “But I’ve taken the liberty of instructing the servants to pack your things. The best way I can protect you until you reach your final majority is for you to stay at my estate. Castle Laurus has many unique protection spells that will, I’m afraid, be necessary. Especially over the next few months.”
