In Mage We Trust (Of Mystics and Mayhem Book 1)

by Heidi Vanlandingham

  I groaned, the idea of falling in love almost laughable. “I’ve lived a long life alone—a confirmed bachelor. I’m three thousand years old. Johnna is too young for me, a baby. Our age difference alone makes this entire situation ludicrous.” Even though I’d said the words aloud, I knew in my heart they weren’t true. My brain, however, yelled at me to run away as fast as I could.

  “Yes, our daughter is young, but she will mature, probably at a much faster rate than we’re all prepared for. Be patient with her, Niki. Johnna is so much like her father, intelligent and stubborn. She will learn to accept her new life, and you. Give her time.”

  “You’re handling this almost too well, Sabine. Why?”

  Her blue eyes darkened, filling with sadness. “The last ten years have been difficult. For all of us. I want my daughter happy. And I think you can give her that happiness, Niki.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Johnna

  Walking to the kitchen, I mulled over my mom’s words as I fixed myself a tuna sandwich. When had I used magic? I replayed every move I’d made during the fight with Niki and still drew a blank.

  After a quick swish of the towel across the countertop, only haphazardly removing the crumbs, I wandered the halls, looking for my dad. Stuffing the last bite of sandwich in my mouth, I found him in what looked to me like a sewing room.

  “Good, you’re finally here.” His long strides ate up the distance between us. “We should have begun an hour ago. Because of what you did to Niki, I believe I now know what your talent is, although I need to test a few things first.” He held out a strange-looking metal rod.

  A cacophony of sounds went off in my head and I flinched, stepping back. A grin slowly spread across his face, but it wasn’t comforting.

  I took the rod from him, keeping my grasp loose, as I examined the beautiful etchings covering the metal surface. Even the slightly rounded ends had designs on them. Each bold line, arc, and dot reminded me of the Viking runes on my necklace. At least I’d always thought they were Norse.

  “What do you think?”

  “These are runes, aren’t they?” I held the rod up, surprisingly lightweight. Where my hands gripped the metal, I sensed a strong energy flowing through it.

  “Very good. Viking runes, not Hellenic. Not that it matters. Information is always good. You never know when something stored away in the recesses of your mind will come in handy.”

  My gaze returned to my dad, noting his all-too-familiar military stance. When I was younger, I used to hate it when he stood above me, trying to be so intimidating. Evidently, some things never changed, and I readied myself for the forthcoming lecture. “Now, tell me everything you feel while you hold the rod. Every detail.”

  I sighed. “Well, there’s a high-pitched vibration rattling my insides and giving me a headache, if that’s what you mean.” I held it upright, one end propped against the floor, and switched hands several times as the tingling crawled through them and up my arms. “And wherever my skin touches the metal the vibrations tingle. A lot.”

  “Good. Good. Now humor me and place the rod against the statue by the door.”

  I stared at him, one eyebrow raised. He made a shooing motion, so I did as he asked and walked over to the towering, bronze statue of an extremely muscled man. I held the rod diagonally against his torso where it touched his hip and upper chest. This was so stupid. Yet the longer I stood there, the more the vibrations decreased. For some strange reason, it made me happy. I pulled the rod away and faced my dad.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “The vibrations lessened. So did the high-pitched sounds. I could barely hear them. Does it mean something?”

  “Possibly. Let’s try something else. Place the rod on this copper amulet.” Dad laid the four-inch copper disc on the floor and waited.

  I hadn’t even placed the rod against the disc when a surge of power, immense and immediate, flowed up through the rod and into my hands. I gasped and held on tight. The tingling turned into a hard throb, filling my mind. An agonized scream built in intensity until a thin, silver light pierced the back of my eyeballs, turning into a clear, high-pitched tone. The painful noise was gone.

  My father chanted in another language as darkness covered the light, dousing the thin stream, and my eyesight slowly returned to normal, adjusting to the dim light in the room. I jerked the rod away from the copper, my breathing sounding more like a dog’s wheezy breaths. The throbbing, along with the pure sound, decreased back to a soft vibration.

  “What in the hell was that?” It took every ounce of willpower to stand. My thoughts were sluggish, like I couldn’t quite wake up.

  “Language, Johnna.” Dad laid his hand on my shoulder, muttering in the weird language again, and the cloud in my head disappeared. His dark gaze speared mine, and this time I saw a real smile curving his lips. “You are a metal mage, and thanks to Niki, a powerful one too. We don’t have many of those running around, so this is good. This is very, very good.”

  “Glad to make your day. Now, tell me what a metal mage is. And what did Niki have to do with it?” An unsettling feeling gnawed deep inside my stomach the minute the question left my mouth. “We aren’t related, are we?” I didn’t like the thought of being related to a zombie.

  Dad chuckled. “No relation at all. However, you will be tied to him for eternity—something you’ll get used to. To bring you back, he gave you part of his life force. Your magic also explains why you almost died when we removed the key. The metal properties had become a part of you. Removing the key was, in a sense, like removing your heart.”

  “So Mom had it wrong? She told me I went into some kind of limbo. How can a zombie give part of his soul? They’re already dead.” I threw my hands up in the air, the rod barely missing my head. “Arrgggh. I don’t understand any of this.” Resentment and residual anger toward my dad resurfaced, but I didn’t want to fight with him anymore. I tamped the annoying feelings back down to mull everything over later.

  “Johnna, calm down. Your mother did tell you the truth. Niki gave a part of himself to get around the age rule.”

  “How can a dead guy bring someone back to life?” I locked on to my father’s guilty face. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

  His expression went blank. “Niki isn’t dead, but he will have to tell you his story when the time is right. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter. Now, back to you. A metal mage can control any metal by talking to it, in a way.”

  “Holy shi— Sorry. For something like this, poop doesn’t have the same impact.”

  His lips twitched. “True. Just don’t let your mother hear it.”

  “This control thing . . . I can do it whenever I want?”

  “In time. Without control, it will be sporadic at best. You need to practice calling it. Once you have that down, then we’ll worry about control.”

  “What do I do first?” I ran my fingers softly across the engravings, wondering what they meant.

  “Talk to the rod. Whisper to it in your head like a thought. Your power knows what to do. And listen to your instincts. They will always guide you in the right direction.”

  I pondered my new knowledge a moment. “I think I understand what you’re saying. The power is a part of me, so I have to trust in myself, right? Believe I can do it.”

  “You got it. Nice to know I didn’t raise a dumb-dumb.”

  I snorted. “Thanks, I think. Technically, you didn’t raise me.” Through the entire conversation, I held the rod fast in my grip, and the tingling remained a steady massage in my palm. I tuned in to the low hum and imagined the volume increasing, pleasantly surprised when the tone grew louder. No longer a low hum, now it sounded more like the tinkling of a bell. The more I concentrated, the clearer the tone. The sound only I could hear was beautiful.

  A dee
per note joined the higher one, adding depth and creating a musical chord. The surprise must have shown on my face, because my dad barked out his first command.

  “Bring the sounds closer together in your mind and increase their combined strength.”

  I concentrated a moment, not sure how he knew what was happening or if he could hear what I did. “Exactly what am I trying to do?” The question burst out louder than I intended, like when I wore my earbuds and tried to talk at the same time.

  “Honestly? I’m not sure. Let’s see what happens.”

  “Comforting. Blind leading the blind. Are you sure you’re a mage?”

  My question must have surprised him because his eyebrows flew up, and he mimicked Niki's guppy expression. Wonder who taught whom?

  After his mouth quit opening and closing, he finally asked, “Who told you? Your mother?”

  “Who else would have told me?” The notes dropped half a step, now sounding harsh and flat. My eyes widened, and I had to force them to remain uncrossed.

  “Let’s get back on track. We don’t have a lot of time before my father or one of his goons finds us. Try something else, such as aim and shoot at one of the targets I’ve placed around the room. Figure it out.”

  “Instructions would be nice,” I snapped, finally noticing the large bull’s-eyes he had put around the room. My stomach still hurt from the flat sounds, but I did what he said. Nothing happened.

  “It’s not working.” I paused, hearing several new discordant notes. I cringed at them, very out-of-tune. When I focused my frustration, the cacophony swirling around in my head made me wish I had a bottle of aspirin. I dropped the front of the staff, trying to place my ear against my shoulder, as if it would block the noise. My brain still felt close to exploding. Well, I never said I was logical.

  A sudden burst of something flew from the lowered end and a loud ziiippp echoed around the room. I squeezed my eyes closed, afraid to look at whatever I’d done. Instinctively, I knew lowering the rod, coupled with my growing frustration, had caused the burst of power. What a satisfying feeling, kind of like after my first taste of latté. I stifled my groan. What I wouldn’t do for one now.

  The suspense from not knowing what I’d done killed me, and I lasted only two seconds before my eyes popped open. I gasped. Where the bronze statue had been, a beautiful marble man now stood. Different-sized dark gray lines angled and feathered across the statue’s creamy white surface, giving him a more solemn look—a silent sentry. I stared in quiet wonder. The piece was quite nice.

  Dad moved around the new statue, hands resting on his hips, an equally pleased look on his face. “Hmmm. Your training might be easier than I thought.” He faced me again, all traces of emotion gone again. “Let’s try something harder.”

  “Us? When did it become a we thing?”

  “Since what you’re going to do requires my magic as well, so don’t argue.”

  I bit back my frustration. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Attack me.”

  I stared at him, doing my best owl impersonation. “Are you crazy? Remember what I did to Cheesehead?”

  “Why do you call him that? His name is Niki.”

  “I know, but the first time I saw him, the image just popped into my head—a hunk of Swiss cheese.” I shivered in disgust. “I will never be able to eat it again.”

  “It’s fine, Gerard. I’ve been called much worse.”

  I spun around at the familiar voice and met his eerie yellow eyes. I couldn’t have stopped my growing smile if I’d wanted to. He responded with a quick nod, dismissing me, and my grin turned into a glare.

  The two men clasped hands and Niki said something to Dad. He glided across the room and leaned against the wall, looking quite relaxed with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked completely healed . . . for a zombie.

  I studied his hair, seemingly darker and thicker in the dim candlelight. I must not have paid attention, but I could’ve sworn he had less hair on his head before I’d skewered him. Now, the dark ends curled against the collar of his . . . shirt? I really needed to pay more attention to things—

  “Johnna, concentrate. Knowing what your power is, we should be able to deflect it. Now, make your move. Think strategy. Remember the chess games we used to play?” Dad waited for my nod. “Fighting uses the same moves. The strategy of your opponent will determine where you place your body and what maneuvers you use.”

  “I remember. The faster you stop lecturing, the quicker we can start.” I moved forward one step, two more, and stopped close to him. As he brought his long knife around to guard his side, I feinted to the right and swung my rod from the left, making contact with his blade. I increased my adrenalin, forcing it into the metal rod, and kept the action moving forward, through the rod and toward the blade.

  Which promptly sagged.

  A laugh burst out before I could stop it as my dad stared at the wiggly silver noodle in his hand, a look of dismay on his face. Niki snickered behind me, unsuccessfully trying to cover it up by coughing and clearing his throat.

  “If your mother saw this, she’d never let me live it down.” Dad’s gaze met mine. “We’re done. You’ll be fine,” he muttered with a frown.

  I shrugged nonchalantly, trying not to laugh again. “If you say so. Would you like me to fix your little sword?” More strange snorting noises sounded behind me.

  “I can handle my own weapons, thank you.” The snorting began to sound like choking. I smiled, and Dad’s frown deepened more.

  “I’m going to look for your mother,” he snapped, and a loud thud followed by what sounded like kicking echoed behind my back. “Meet us in the kitchen in fifteen minutes.”

  “Aaaaggghh.” Great gasps of mirth came from the floor. I turned to see Niki rolling around as he laughed his head off. I hoped, in the zombie’s exuberance, his head didn’t actually roll off. I shook my own head in disgust. I would never understand male humor.

  “Are you about finished?” I waited for him to sit up, taking longer than I liked, his lips pinched together as if biting back more laughter. Maybe it was my imagination, but his lips looked even more normal than they had while he’d been asleep. Things were definitely getting weird in fantasyland.

  I met his amused gaze and sighed. Loudly. “You heard that, didn’t you?” At his nod of confirmation, I groaned. “I have a hard enough time with my mouth, always saying the wrong things at the wrong time. Now I’m going to have to figure out how to block my thoughts as well.”

  “You really believe it will work?”

  Ignoring him, I left, following the hallway back to the kitchen as my frustration grew. My life had been completely uprooted. I’d been lied to, forced away from my normal world and college, and now even my privacy was being invaded.

  I spun back around and found myself staring at Niki’s chin. I tilted my head up and met his glittering yellow gaze with a glare. “Stay out of my head or else . . .”

  He leaned forward until our noses touched, his intense stare making me feel exposed. “Or else, what?”

  I stepped back, not liking the traitorous way my insides trembled in response. “I’ll figure something out. Just remember who gutted you earlier.” I turned and hurried down the hall toward the kitchen.

  His deep, silky voice sounded behind me, and I jumped. His hot breath tickled the small hairs on the back of my neck, sending goosebumps to every part of my body. And not in a bad way, which disturbed me even more. “Yes, but I gutted you first, now didn’t I?”

  I hadn’t even seen him move. Damn, he was fast. “Whatever,” I blurted, channeling my old high-school self, and scurried around him, his soft chuckles fading behind me.

  Chapter 4

  Racing into the kitchen ahead of Niki, I slid to a halt behind a silvery apparition floating
in mid-air. I could only see her back, but her outfit was very form-fitting, a lacy concoction I assumed was supposed to be some sort of gown, although most of the material seemed to be missing.

  From across the room, my mother made frantic gestures with her hands, trying to get me to stand next to her. I scurried over, realizing now was not a good time to argue.

  Glancing up, my jaw dropped. If I’d thought the back of the unknown woman's dress had been fabulous, the front was beyond breathtaking. And as nonexistent as the back.

  The woman looked to be about my mother’s age and wore her black hair in an attention-grabbing pixie cut. Her brilliant blue eyes and familiar features had me believing I could be staring into a mirror.

  My gaze dropped to the wispy, white lace of her dress, barely covering her perfect-sized breasts, while the low-plunging vee in the middle stopped just shy of proclaiming her femininity. The only other adornment was a silver chain hanging around her neck. My eyes widened to see how the silvery disc sparkled. The pink flower-covered vine triquetra charm was identical to my mother’s and mine.

  When I met her animated gaze, sparkles of laughter danced in the depths of her blue eyes. “How in the world do you keep your dress up?” I blurted, forgetting about the necklace, and mentally kicked myself when I heard my mother’s quick gasp. I dropped my gaze with a groan and saw Niki’s wide smile.

  I frowned. “See? I told you. Just tape my mouth shut and save me from future humiliation.”

  “He could, although you wouldn’t have near as much fun or be quite as amusing.” The lady’s voice sounded like a harmony of bells, melodious and cheerful.

  My mom nudged my arm. “Johnna, meet your grandmother—my mother, Gaia.”