Shadow Mage

by Sarah McCarthy

  “Good attitude,” he said finally, and waved a hand for Illiam to come up.

  “Now, the first thing you have to keep in mind is not to be overambitious,” Finn said. “The shadow must be constantly on your mind and—”

  Illiam held out a hand and a flower blossomed out of it. Green flames licked upwards, forming into emerald stems with bright black spines, white hot petals opened, blooming into a rose, sparks falling from it, scattering across the ground.

  There was silence for several seconds. Finn looked stunned. Beside her, Agnes started to clap. Then the whole room broke into applause. Illiam grinned and took a sweeping bow, laughing. He handed the flower to a pretty dark-haired girl in the front row and she blushed.

  “That was—you’ve never done magic before?” Finn asked.

  “I’ve… I’ve thought about it a lot… but I only turned sixteen a week ago,” Illiam said. “And, I didn’t want to try anything until I had a good teacher.”

  “Right.” Finn rubbed his hand across his jaw. “Well… that was… let’s see how much you can do. First, though, did you feel the shadow? Any difficulty?”

  Illiam shook his head.

  Finn’s gaze swept the room. He pointed to one of the iron wall sconces. “Can you melt that?” He turned to the rest of the room. “Any water mages here? Can we get some ice around the walls?”

  Ice blossomed across the walls, and the stuffy room became mercifully cooler.

  Illiam bit the inside of his cheek, pointed at the sconce, and half a second later it was a puddle of molten iron.

  Finn’s eyebrows had climbed into his hairline.

  Agnes leaned over to Sarai, her voice hushed. “Finn’s the only one here who can actually melt iron. It has to be like a billion degrees or something.”

  “Not a billion, Agnes, jeez are you an idiot? The whole place would be vaporized,” someone behind them said.

  “Shut-up, Railin,” Agnes snapped. “I was exaggerating.”

  Finn was now running Illiam through a series of drills, which he performed flawlessly and apparently without effort. There were choruses of oohs and aaahs after an explosion of dancing stars that hung in the air for several seconds, twirling and spinning together.

  “I… I see…” Finn said. “Be careful, now. That’s enough. Until you’ve had Shadow Management you’d better not go any further.”

  “Right, sir, sorry,” Illiam said, nodding. The stars disappeared.

  “Do you feel all right?” Finn asked again.

  “Yes, sir, I feel fine.”

  Illiam blushed and looked down humbly, but Sarai could tell it was an act. Triumph, arrogance, and self-assuredness seeped out of him in black waves that made her almost physically nauseous. And beneath that, something even worse. A deep, deep feeling of worthlessness. She was surprised no one else was bothered by it.

  Unable to bear it any longer, Sarai slipped out, away from the oppressive heat, and away from the newest resident of the King’s Table.

  17

  Illiam

  Illiam sat in the empty classroom long after everyone else had left. Finn’s lecture still echoed in his mind. His mentor. He had met his mentor. His chest heated at the thought.

  He must learn everything about magic he could from him, because he knew his mentor would die. Mentors always died, right before the test, and Illiam could feel in his bones that the test would be soon. It must be. He was too strong, too talented, too aware of his path, for it to be long. He must be vigilant, must learn everything he could as quickly as he could, must win the affection of the girl he loved, and then he would be ready to do whatever great feat was required of him.

  He nodded soberly to himself, then felt his face split into a wide grin.

  18

  Finn

  The rain had stopped, finally, after five days. Five days where Finn had mercifully not been assassinated. Long rainstorms often happened after the wind and water mages had kept the rain clouds away. When they finally did return, they returned with a vengeance, hanging around gloomily and dumping what had to have been at least twice as much water as they’d originally planned.

  But now the rain had stopped, the clouds had cleared, and it looked like they were going to have nice weather for a few days. Finn breathed in the fresh, morning air as his feet pounded the stones, following their familiar path around the battlements. The sun had barely risen, and long shadows stretched across the stones. Its rays were already warm, though; he could feel that the day would be hot.

  As he ran, his mind turned idly over the last few days. Things with the ambassadors were not going well, had not improved. Artair seemed more interested in eating and drinking than discussing policy, Armina sniffed in a horrified way over everything he said, and the Baron butted in, asking endless annoying, intrusive questions. At least Frewin seemed polite, although they had barely spoken, Frewin being constantly surrounded by admirers. They’ll come around. They’ll see that we can be better, stronger, together.

  He was just passing the crescent moon beacon when he noticed a familiar form up ahead. Tall and slender with spiky white hair and those dangling orange earrings. She stood, her hands resting on the battlements, looking across the plains towards the rising sun. Orange light illuminated her face.

  Finn slowed, pausing to catch his breath before he approached.

  “Morning… Armina.”

  She turned, a polite, cold smile stretching her lips but not reaching her eyes.

  “Morning, Finn.”

  “Enjoying the view?”

  “I always watch the sunrise and the sunset. I haven’t missed one in over thirty years.” She glanced back over her shoulder, at the sun which had almost fully lifted over the horizon.

  Still panting, Finn joined her, and they stared in silence, watching it rise.

  “So,” he said finally, dreading the answer. “How are you liking things so far?”

  She moved to sit on a stone bench looking out over Kel’s gardens.

  “What you have built here is impressive, to be sure. And… well, you have prevented any deaths, I see. That is good.”

  Aware of how he probably smelled, Finn sat on a neighboring bench.

  She gazed at him levelly, her green eyes sharp. “I heard that you have a shadow stone, is that true?”

  “It is.”

  Her eyes widened. “How did you acquire it? They were all lost in the Fall, were they not?”

  “I got it from the City of Mages.” It was close enough to the truth.

  “And that is how you deal with the shadow, then?”

  “Yes, I have the mages meet with me once a month, to drain the shadow they’ve collected.”

  She folded her hands, looking down at them. “That is something I greatly envy, I must admit. I am a water mage, but these days it would be more accurate to say that I was a water mage. I have too much shadow to responsibly continue.”

  She paused, then went on. “We ration our magic use carefully. Every bit of shadow we collect is a step closer to the day we can no longer use it. Some of us have attempted to siphon it off, but the attempts have gone… poorly.” She looked at him shrewdly. “Does it have a limited capacity?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know.”

  She shifted in her seat, her mouth opening slightly. “You… you are collecting shadow in an object… have been doing so for ten years… and you have no idea as to its limits?”

  It was Finn’s turn to shift uncomfortably. He shivered, the slight breeze causing a chill as his sweat dried. “I assure you, if there was any sign of its failure…”

  “Has it occurred to you that perhaps the Fall was caused by just such a stone?”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Oh, and you know this?”

  He pursed his lips. “Yes, I do.” But I’d rather not tell you how I know. I’d rather you not know I made a bargain with an immortal being bent on the subjugation of humanity. Maybe if you liked me just a little more… or at all.

 
; “How could you possibly know what caused the Fall?”

  “When I went to the City of Mages, I met some… remnants…”

  “One of the Ael? Or… you can’t be saying there are mages left there still?”

  “No, no.” Kel had spoken to an Ael. Had spoken to many. He sighed. The commitment to the truth, even if it was sometimes half-truth, was an inconvenience. “My sister, Kel. You know she is half-Ael. She spoke with some of them.”

  Armina folded her delicate hands in her lap and looked out steadily across the gardens for several seconds.

  “Still. I would not place my trust in such a device. As much as I would like to make use of it myself.” She rubbed one hand with the other wistfully. Finn could almost see her thoughts, remembering the magic she had once worked so easily.

  “I understand your perspective,” Finn said. His gut twisted anxiously. She had a point. A good one. Who knew how long the stone would last, how much it could hold? It was extremely foolish to rely on it so heavily, especially considering where he had gotten it. “Maybe you could tell me more about how you treat shadow? And we could move in that direction. In the meantime, it’s unlikely it’s full now, and, since we plan on continuing to use it anyway… would you like to…?”

  She was silent for several seconds, then shook her head. “No. Thank you. As much as I… as I would like to… I won’t be party to whatever enormous disaster that’s going to cause when it breaks.”

  Finn struggled for several seconds, biting back the defensive things he wanted to say, but there was no point arguing. He wanted to learn from her; he had heard her opinion; it was a reasonable opinion. That was it.

  There was one thing he especially wanted to ask her about, but he didn’t want her to think too deeply about why he might be asking it, so he hedged, asking his question again.

  “I think you missed my question earlier. Please, will you tell me more about how you deal with shadow? In detail?”

  “My apologies. I was distracted by your offer. Yes. I will tell you the only responsible way to deal with the shadow.”

  She went on at length, and he nodded, pulling out the paper and pencil he always kept with him to take notes. He peppered her with more questions, which she answered graciously, seeming almost relieved that he wanted to know, clearly hoping that it meant he would make the King’s Table a safer place. Or a nonexistent one. Finally, he asked the question he most wanted to know the answer to.

  “I read about something interesting, in one of the books we recovered from the City of Mages. Oath Stones? Have you heard of them?”

  She eyed him. “Yes. We have a few ourselves.”

  He didn’t look up from his paper, tried to keep his voice nonchalant. “Oh? Have you used them?”

  “We haven’t had the need, not since before the fall. When people are honorable, trustworthy, they aren’t needed.”

  “Of course. Of course. It… it just struck me because it’s so different from all the other types. It doesn’t seem to have a connection to any of the usual elements. It’s not thread or water or fire or anything like that, I mean.”

  “No, I believe they were made by the Ael, originally. They are mostly shadow.”

  “You can… you can make things out of shadow?”

  “Well, humans can’t, or, not intentionally of course. The Ael could.”

  Could Kel? Finn ran a hand through his hair excitedly.

  “Do you know how the Oath Stones work?”

  She waved a slim hand. “Only the Ael know that.”

  “Has anyone ever broken an oath?” She shot him a look and he instantly knew he’d gone too far.

  “Who have you made a bargain with, Finn?”

  He swallowed and licked his lips. “It’s true I made a bargain. One that I’d rather not keep, because it will kill me.”

  She watched him expressionlessly. “With whom did you make this bargain that will result in your death?”

  “I’d rather not say.” He looked down. “It was a stupid decision, I know that.”

  She was playing with one of her earrings thoughtfully now.

  “That is how you got the shadow stone. And the books. You bargained your life away for them. But… the only one who could have given them to you is…” She froze. For several seconds, she didn’t move. Her eyes were glazed over. At last she spoke. “There were rumors… stories… that I didn’t believe. Of a man, or half a man, like your sister, who pretended to be an Ael. He lived in the City of Mages, as a teacher. But he was not… not a good man.”

  Finn massaged his temple. Well, there goes that. “His name is Morthil.”

  “You are even more foolish than I thought, then.” She stood, shaking. “And it was your death he wanted?”

  Well, too late for secrets now, I guess. “My body.”

  Her mouth opened, her hand rising to cover it.

  “You’ve agreed to let him out.” She looked back at where only minutes before the sunrise had been. She wrapped her long arms around herself and looked away, as if trying to wrap her mind around this new, cataclysmic shift in her reality. “I… I cannot believe… if the stories are true… and if he exists at all then it’s likely they are… you… you have doomed us. Doomed humanity through your foolishness.”

  “I won’t let him out,” Finn said. “I won’t give him my body.”

  She let out a sharp bark of laughter, her orange earrings jangling.

  “You will not have a choice. You’ve used an Oath Stone. There is no breaking that vow. Every bit of magic in the world will resist it. You can kill yourself a thousand times, tear yourself into pieces, and it will not matter.” Her eyes were pinpricks of fury bearing down on him. “I can see that is what you planned. You must have thought to yourself ‘oh, there’s plenty of time. I’ll figure a way out. I’ll just kill myself.”

  Finn cringed. Well, that, yes, and Kel would have died. He’d been ready to die, would gladly have done so rather than unleash Morthil on the world, but he couldn’t let Kel pay for his mistakes, couldn’t let her die to protect him.

  She was shaking uncontrollably now.

  “I should never have come. I’d rather have my death come upon me while I am blissfully unaware. Now I must anticipate… but there is nothing we can do. How… how long do we have?”

  Finn’s voice was so quiet it was nearly a whisper. “Around a month.”

  When she spoke, her voice was deadly calm. “Around a month? You… you do not know exactly when the immortal beast will take over your body and wreak destruction on the world?”

  “If you use the old Caledonian calendar—”

  She looked like she was going to choke on something. Then, something shifted in her eyes.

  “Where is your shadow stone?”

  “In my office.”

  “Take me to it. Now. I am going to take you up on your offer after all. And then I am leaving. If the world is ending, I want to at least be able to fight. And now I see that it’s unlikely we’re going to live long enough for the shadow stone to be a problem anyway.” She glanced at the sun. “It’s been… forty minutes or so, that we have been speaking, and you have managed to convince me you’ve doomed the world to disaster twice over.”

  Finn stood. “That’s enough.” He said it quietly, looking her full in the face. “Yes, the bargain I made is dangerous, and I’m running out of time to fix it. But I will. And at the time, it was either make it or allow my sister to be tortured and killed.”

  “I am sure you love your sister, but her life is not worth releasing that monster.”

  “It is to me. More than that, though, something needed to be done for mages. You and your people may have been fine living behind your walls, rationing your shadow, but the rest of us were being hunted and killed.”

  “Don’t blame me for your foolhardy actions.”

  “Don’t judge the people you left to persecution for doing what they had to do to survive.”

  The tiniest of uncertainties flickered in her expre
ssion, then her face hardened.

  “I will be leaving now.” She turned away.

  Finn inclined his head. “Fine by me.”

  19

  Kel

  Kel peeked through the crack in the door out to the waiting area and sighed. Packed. Just like yesterday. She put her fist up to her mouth and yawned, pulling back from the door. Her thoughts were sluggish, still thick with sleep and heavy with dreams from the night before. She had to do something, needed to be able to sleep if she was going to be of any use to these people.

  She picked up her tea and wrapped her cold fingers around it, drinking in a long gulp, hoping it would make her more alert.

  Tell them to come back tomorrow.

  I can’t do that. Where else are they going to go? One of them out there had a broken arm. Others had come long distances or were sick.

  Not wanting to keep them waiting any longer, Kel set her tea down and let in the first patient.

  A few hours later her tea sat cold and untouched on the side table where she’d left it. The waiting area was only half empty. Kel barely looked up from her notes as the next patient came in.

  “Hey.”

  “Hello,” Kel said, straightening. “What’s—”

  She stopped, seeing Illiam grinning at her, leaning against the edge of a side counter.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said, as her gaze took in his singed hair, charred face, and burned upper arms.

  She blushed and was immediately annoyed at herself. This was stupid.

  “How did you do that?” she asked casually, to distract herself as she gathered the burn ointment. She didn’t need it, really, but it helped, and it was easier if she didn’t use her magic for everything. Normally she’d apply it herself, but instead she just handed him the cream. “Here, put some of this on there.”