by Helen Savore
Jamie wasn’t sure what he did, but he stretched his hand out to catch it.
It flew past him.
Jamie whipped his head round and saw Adam, and someone else, who must have been Moralynn—a tall female wearing armor. He groaned. It was the same figure he’d seen at the store all those weeks ago. So she wasn’t a phantom, or maybe she was, but one that was helping? He still didn’t really understand what the phantoms were yet.
She caught the stone. “Raebyn, do not make me regret treating you gently last time you were on Earth.”
“I would never do such a thing, Moralynn. But I do see now this is where Adhomai snuck off to. You have found a nascent Smith, too, all on your own. An intriguing band you are collecting, Moralynn. Is the life of your singular apprentice less precious now?” He bowed, shook, and burst into the blue dust. It gathered and flew away on the wind.
Moralynn’s head swept the clearing. “Where’s Alexandrea?”
“The rock!” shouted Jamie.
Adam and Moralynn shared a nod, and she flew into the air after the blue dust.
Jamie’s jaw dropped. He remained still, watching her break through the treetops, as though nothing were keeping her aloft in the air.
Adam’s voice interrupted his wonder. “I could search the entire rock, but your help—”
“Oh, Drea.” Jamie moved back to the rock fall. He pushed on one, then another, trying to roll them. He still could not budge the rocks. “Damn!” He punched one. His hand came away bloody, but he didn’t care. All his careless fitness and the one time he truly needed to do something it wouldn’t help.
Jamie clenched his hand to punch again and noticed it was fine. He looked from the hand to the rock and punched again. He pulled it away. Pain jolted up his nerves and, just as quickly, melted away. Equally fast, energy trickled back down his nerves. He stared at his hand as blood stopped flowing and scabs formed. Jamie flexed his fingers, and yelped as small bone fractures righted themselves.
Was ignoring pain the key?
Don’t overthink it. Thinking was later, now was Drea.
He jumped and climbed above where he thought she might be covered. He knelt, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
Don’t think.
He formed his hands into scoops and threw them at the rocks. He met the rock, and it shifted. When no pain lanced back, he started to open his eyelids but changed his mind. Seeing would make it harder to believe.
He pulled more and more away as he dug down, deep and wide. Jamie was alone in a dark world, no sight, only the touch of rock and air.
He hit smooth skin and heard a small moan. His eyes flew open and he selfishly looked to his hands first, which were whole, hale, and fine. He glanced down the rock hole and found Drea’s arm.
“She’s here!” he yelled. He turned, but only found Adam. Moralynn had not yet returned.
Adam refused to move. “You are digging through the rock.”
“Yes.” Jamie pointed. “I’m trying to get Drea out. Is that wrong?”
Adam came closer and towered over them. “Did she give you a foci?”
“That crazy armor or accessories you had?” Jamie shook his head. “No, she didn’t give me anything. Can you ask questions later? I could use some help first.”
Adam blinked but said nothing else.
Useless. Jamie didn’t linger on the thought, needing to get Drea out. This time he kept his eyes open. They widened when he saw that he was not, as he thought, hurting and healing his abused hands. Instead, the moment he touched the rock it crumbled and became soft dirt. He pulled Alexandrea out not long after and cradled her almost still form. She was covered in ugly purple bruises, the skin on her face split open in too many places; cracks radiating like some sort of crazy horror mask. She was almost unrecognizable. Worst of all her breathing was too erratic.
“Jamie?”
Moralynn reappeared. Adam stepped aside, and the warrior woman knelt by him.
“My thanks, Jamie. She will be safe now, do not worry. However, would you like to attempt first?”
Her voice echoed within his mind. In many ways it reminded him of Drea’s storytelling cadence, but deeper, with a bit of a strange accent or a lilt. He heard the words, but they didn’t sound quite right. Judging by her physique, he wouldn’t put her past her thirties, though something told him she was much older.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t have my kit handy.”
Moralynn took his bare hand in her gauntleted one. “There is a way. Healing another is more difficult; it is outside of you, not within.” She guided his hand to Drea’s temple. “The rewards, however, are well worth the effort. You care for her?”
Jamie held his breath. He couldn’t pick the words for what he thought about Drea, whatever their relationship was now. There was too much to consider from the day’s events. But the precise way he cared for her didn’t change the fact that he certainly did. “Yes.”
“Send her those thoughts, and it will lend your healing.”
He glanced first at Moralynn, then focused on Drea. He didn’t know what “send” meant, but he considered some simple, happy thoughts. He recalled their recent discussions and excursions. The first game she was at before he got injured. Finding her alive after that terrible accident at her store.
Was that truly an accident?
A cough interrupted his train of thought, and Drea’s eyes blinked open. She breathed deep.
“Why did the gateway explode?” she whispered. With every new breath her wounds healed, the bleeding stopped and color returned to her skin. Her face was nearly in one piece, with only a particularly large gash still present, but even that was closing up before his eyes.
He felt her forehead, marveling over the quick recovery, now that she was presumably helping herself.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think you'll need to explain it to me.”
Moralynn tapped Drea’s head. “Your friend has proved he’s a Druid.”
Adam shook his head at Moralynn. “No, he shaped mineral without a foci. He broke through the rocks, and I think he destroyed one of Raebyn’s foci.”
Moralynn stared at Jamie. “The Smith? Raebyn meant him?”
Jamie winced at the ferocity in her eyes, and chose to look down at Drea instead. “What are you talking about?”
Drea scrunched her face, then winced. After a blink she sighed. “It means you may be a Life Smith.”
Adam rose. “And Raebyn knows.”
28
“So let me get this straight…” Jamie attempted to sit in a relaxed position. He kicked his legs onto a table covered with papers, one hand behind his head, the other pointing to some fae creature.
All four of them had retired to Drea’s office. Although it should have been a familiar place, the experience was surreal. Whether that was more from the two strange beings or a Drea spouting the craziest things with a straight face, Jamie couldn’t say.
“You’re telling me that you were born in Arthurian times. He and all the rest were real, except it was even more dangerous than any of the legends claim?”
Adam-Adhomai—lifted himself away from the corner he’d been leaning against, bracketed by uneven shelves with books piled haphazardly.
“Yes,” he said. “You see, back then, there had been a long-running alliance with the fae, maintained by the Phoenix, Merlin.”
Drea smiled and reached over her armchair to tap his arm. “We still don’t know why they truly broke it.” She glanced to Moralynn, who remained the quietest of the bunch. “Advancements in metallurgy seems too weak.”
She appeared much more human than Adhomai, but there was still an odd sense to her. Not just her dark eyes, but something in her tense posture, a precision in her movement that hinted a threat. She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes.
“A truth that has haunted me my long life.”
Jamie stopped pointing and clenched his hand instead, striking it into his other palm. “But the result
was that they killed any humans with magic. Shapers, Druids. You’re the only one to escape?”
Moralynn gave a brisk nod. “Correct. The how is not important.”
“Okay.” That made her that Phoenix apprentice thing Drea mentioned earlier. Jamie continued to try to repeat back what they’d been telling him, to make sure he understood. Making sense of these disparate facts was worse than putting together a diagnosis from weird symptoms. “And because you survived, we have this Phoenix apprentice—”
“Phoenix Sparked,” corrected Drea.
He grinned at her. “Yes, Sparked, so reincarnation could continue for the fae. But that’s bad because of the additional death toll on humans.” He shook his head. “I can’t see how magic is pushing us all to war or spreading disease just to make sure there is enough death to cover fae lives.” He shook his head. “Sometimes people are just dicks.”
Drea crossed her legs and leaned forward. “Okay, maybe not everything is due to the fae. But consider some of the things happening around the world right now. Truth is becoming stranger than fiction with the conflicts that are developing and the leaders coming into place.” She shook her head. “You witnessed the phantoms in the hospitals first, Jamie. Did all those deaths have to happen?”
He squeezed his eyes. She’d chosen her words carefully, referring to the hospitals, but she very well knew where else he’d seen phantoms, and where she’d seen them, too. They’d lost at least three parents between them to the phantoms. Had they been sacrificed to bring about fae lives?
His gaze turned to Adhomai again. Was there a bit of his dad in this spindly character?
A part of him flared. If this were true, this was all the reason he needed to cross these fae. Not for protection from their attacks or hauntings, revenge for taking his dad too soon. Could the fae have also caused his mum’s dementia? What else could these monsters do?
As he gritted his teeth and pondered the possibilities, the feelings faded. It was too much of a stretch, and too petty. His gaze found Drea’s again. This wasn’t about him. Drea had apparently lived this her whole life, and it was bigger than her, too.
“So you want the Phoenix in order to increase the life expectancy of the entire human race?” He raised a brow. “It’s a great thought, but even if this is all true, people don’t know any better.”
One of Moralynn’s hands went to her waist, caressing the handle of a sword. “More specifically, it is to reclaim what we have lost. You do not understand how rare you are amongst today’s peoples.”
“So we’re fighting for magic in the world?”
Drea flashed him a smile. “Is it we already?”
He cocked his head. “Perhaps. If Druids and Smiths are so rare, it’d be a shame not to do something. Plus just knowing I’m not seeing things…”
“Oh, you are indeed seeing things.” Drea shifted in her chair. “They’re just real.”
Jamie frowned. “That’s a point. How would folk respond to seeing fae? If reclaiming what we’ve lost is part of this, is it magic, is it a vision, is it more?”
Drea sunk back. “I’m not sure. Till a few days ago I could barely conceive of an adult other than me having a view into this world. I hope it’d be better. Who knows who else we’re losing to suspected madness.”
“Would it be more what I am, a Druid? Or just people seeing more?”
She shrugged. “Probably seeing more. Not everyone is from a Druid family or even practiced Shaping back in those times.”
Adhomai sat beside Jamie on the couch as though swooping in to roost. “He is more than a Druid.”
Moralynn lifted her gaze. “We suspect.”
Adhomai pointed to his own hand. “Did either of you give him a foci? No, and yet he cut rock. Furthermore, he blasted Raebyn’s foci. He is a Smith. He must be trained. That is the way of things.”
“Yes.” Jamie shifted along the couch to give himself more space. “You called me a Life Smith. What is that?”
Adhomai nodded. “Smiths create foci.”
“Foci. That’s magic tools?”
Adhomai growled. “Shaping. Items that allow people to shape the elements, yes.”
“Or the psyche,” Drea piped in.
Great, another new overloaded term. He nodded to both of them. “So magic stuff. I wasn’t making anything, though.”
Moralynn frowned. “Smiths have a minor grace with mineral elements. It is the only thing they can Shape, somewhat, and they can do so without foci.” Her eyes narrowed. “Though, usually not without great harm. Typically, it is a traumatic event for a young fae, and they do not shape again once they begin pursuing their Smith training.”
“Oh.” Jamie nodded but checked himself over. He felt fine, well, physically. “So it’s not both? It’s Shaper or Smith?”
“Yes,” Adhomai said with flourish.
Jamie pointed back. “But you called me a Life Smith.”
“Smiths sometimes have specialties,” Drea said. “Since fae inherently cannot shape life energies, a Smith who can create life foci is rare, though it’s not impossible for the fae.”
“I’m hearing that word a lot.”
Drea snorted. “Well, that’s the world we live in presently.”
Jamie rubbed his forehead. “So, you want my help, but as a Life Smith?”
Drea shook her head, but it was Moralynn who responded. “No. We would not know how to train your smith abilities. But you must join our cause, for protection at the very least.”
Drea pursed her lips. “We don’t know if they’ll still target him. This isn’t a demand; I’m just trying to help you understand. That said, none of us are Smiths. So though Jamie might have the ability, there’s only so much he can do naturally.” She turned to him. “You would need training.”
Adhomai leaned closer again. “Raebyn knows you are involved now, and that you are a Smith. Regardless of the practicalities, he may think you are forging on our behalf.”
“But we aren’t doing that anymore,” said Drea slapping her knees. “We’re searching.”
“Forging, searching.” Jamie put a hand out between them. “This all relates back to this Phoenix business?”
Moralynn offered her hands, as if they held something, though Jamie saw nothing else in the air. “The Grail is key to summoning the Phoenix. We search for it now.” Her eyes narrowed on Adhomai. “Raebyn may suspect because for a time we were attempting to create a replica. But that work is done.”
No one jumped on that comment. Jamie glanced from Adhomai to Drea and back to Moralynn, but they were all still.
“I thought none of you were Smiths. How could you be crafting something?”
Drea coughed and looked away awkwardly. “Our Life Smith passed away. Raebyn killed him. Afterward, he came after us, presumably for working on a Grail. He wrecked my store—”
Jamie groaned. “That wasn’t a sinkhole? That was destroyed by magic?”
“Shaping.”
“Whatever.” He looked away from Drea, instead focusing on Moralynn. He nodded. “Okay.
“Okay what?”
“I’m going to help. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to understand better. But right now, you have my answer.” He stood and walked round the table to her. “Do I need to do any sort of funky sign or signal? A cut for a blood oath or something?”
Drea’s mouth gaped, Adhomai threw back his head, and Moralynn lifted a brow, but none spoke.
“Right, I’m the weird one.” He pinched his nose. “So what happens next?”
29
Moralynn sucked in a lungful of air after bursting through the water’s surface. Once she could breathe, she glanced about, still marveling at the glistening that characterized the Waterways. It was more pleasant to come in this direction, where she could bob in the originating pool rather than fall from the ceiling. However, she hoped not to stay long, so pulled herself over the lip and out, drying herself with a water burst.
She peered into the ceiling portals, wonder
ing if she might recognize something. Should she seek Brocéliande again, or try another passage? She could arrive anywhere on Earth, but some were bound to be closer to the Morgan estate. She walked about, her boot steps sending wrinkles along floor. Besides, if she took her time, she may find Viviane again.
True to her word, the ancient fae allowed her passage as long as she did not mention the Grail. Given that condition, she dared not share the Waterways full potential to Alexandrea or Adhomai, certainly not to Jamie; so they did not use them for travel during their search. She did not want to risk this more expeditious and pleasant alternative to the Earth Marrow.
It both relieved and terrified her. She had her own way of crossing through the fiery mess that separated Earth and the fae realms, but this was safer. However, the maze of flame and rock kept most fae away, and the Earth relatively untouched. If they were to learn of this passage… but Viviane had maintained it for centuries with nary an intrusion. They were all safe.
She closed her eyes. Yes, safe was losing allies, destroyed property, and damaged bodies. Raebyn would never be stopped by the Marrow; he was the Master Cristiline, and its fire did not burn him. They could repair the one, rebuild the other, but nothing could replace Boderien. They might have replaced her approach towards achieving the Phoenix—and she was more than grateful for Adhomai and the opportunity—but that did not beget life.
Life. Boderien would live again, but not as himself. Though, considering Adhomai, maybe more remained than she thought. Still, memories would not carry over, and it was through shared experiences that relationships formed. He would never return as her… friend? That did not seem the right word. Neither did partner. Subordinate was true and accurate, but also cold.
Perhaps no title was necessary and simply Boderien would suffice. Though she and Alexandrea moved forward, she missed him. Things had been simpler. And while she had had Boderien, she did not need another Smith’s skills. Now that they had found one, Boderien could have taken on an apprentice. How much could a human learn towards smithing in their short life, though? It would still be a noble pursuit, and it would provide Alexandrea a kind of support. Moralynn was not blind and recognized Alexandrea was not pleased with Adhomai. She did not heed him in the way she had Boderien.
