Shadow Mage

by Sarah McCarthy

  Finn sat behind a large oak desk, a candle burning next to him, a book open in front of him. He nearly jumped out of his chair, knocking the candle over. Agnes snatched it up before it could ignite the papers piled on the desk. She stuffed it back into its holder, then planted her hands on her hips and glared at her teacher.

  Finn reached towards the candle.

  “What are you doing?” Agnes snapped, and Finn withdrew his hand.

  Do you always talk to him like that? Sarai tensed, waiting for Finn’s retaliation.

  “Ah, excuse me. Thank you for the reminder, Agnes.” He took the candle and lit it from the fire in the fireplace. That’s it?

  “What the hell is going on?” Agnes demanded, showing no signs that she was even attempting politeness.

  “I told you, the Ael are having trouble, they’re drawn by magic. We have a way to get rid of them, but I promised Kel that—”

  Sarai lost track of their argument. There was something weird about Finn’s office. Her gaze travelled slowly around the room, alighting on the various objects, trying to place it. There was a heavy, buzzing energy in the air. She kept thinking she heard tiny whispers, tiny fears and insecurities and secret hatreds. There wasn’t much in the office, though. It was a spare, neat, functional space.

  On one wall, next to the fireplace, a built-in bookcase ran floor to ceiling. On one of the higher shelves was a simple wooden box.

  Sarai stood, still ignoring Finn and Agnes, and went to examine it. She picked up the box, and as soon as her fingertips touched it, she knew this was the source of the strange energy.

  “What are you doing with that?” Finn asked sharply.

  Sarai turned, still holding the box. Her palms were getting hot from the vibration of the wood.

  “What’s in here?”

  Agnes and Finn were both staring at her. “That’s the shadow stone,” Agnes said, turning back to Finn. “This is insane, Finn. As I was saying—”

  Sarai pulled the lid off the box and saw the blue stone, set in a lump of melted, tarnished silver. The voices grew stronger. Hatred, shame, terror, the fear of being found out. That everyone would know. Everyone would hate her. She slammed the lid shut and replaced it on the shelf.

  When she turned back, a cold sweat standing out on her forehead, she found Finn watching her curiously.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Am I?

  His single blue eye examined her sharply, and he gestured at the box that held the stone. “It’s bothering you?”

  She raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. “It’s fine.”

  Finn glanced back at Agnes, who had finally gone quiet.

  “Sarai,” Finn asked. “Do you feel something from the stone?”

  “You don’t?”

  “I don’t. Agnes doesn’t either.” He turned suddenly. “You don’t, right? It’s not just me?”

  Agnes shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Sarai wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s… nothing.”

  Finn popped open the box, took out the stone, and held it out to her. She cringed and pulled back.

  Finn’s single eye went wide, and he sucked in a breath of air.

  “Close your eyes,” he said excitedly.

  Sarai looked at him like he was insane.

  “Just one second, I promise it will make sense.”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “I just want to hide it somewhere and see if you can find it again.”

  “I’ll find it again.”

  A thread whipped out, grasped the stone, and yanked it off into Agnes’ hands.

  “You’re being weird, Finn. You can’t just tell people to close their eyes.”

  She came forward, put her hands behind her back, then extended them again, fists clenched.

  “Where’s the stone?”

  Sarai pointed to the very obvious source of pain and torment in Agnes’ left hand. Agnes nodded, then put her hands behind her back again.

  Sarai groaned. “I’m leaving.”

  “No, wait,” Agnes said. “We just have to do this ten times or so. For science. Got to make sure it’s not luck.”

  “It’s not luck.” Sarai ran her hand over her forehead. “And that thing is giving me a headache.”

  Finn held out his hand and Agnes, reluctantly, gave him the stone. He replaced it in the box, which mercifully dampened the screaming pain, and then he took the box to an adjoining room.

  When he returned, he was looking at Sarai wonderingly.

  “Did you have any idea you were a mage?” he asked

  “I’m not a mage.”

  “To non-mages, that stone is an inert rock.”

  “And how many non-mages have you given it to?” Sarai shot back.

  Finn frowned. “I guess Nate’s had it. Fair point, though.”

  “Have you ever done anything… you know… magical?” Agnes asked, her eyes wide.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?” Finn asked.

  Sarai waved a hand. “Sure? Of course I’m sure. Have I ever lit something on fire or drowned someone? Not magically.”

  Agnes closed her mouth and lifted her eyebrows.

  “What, you thought I was like… a new assassin?” Sarai asked. “I’ve killed a lot of people.”

  “No, right… sure… I mean, of course…”

  “Let’s stay focused here,” Finn said. “You’re some kind of mage.”

  “I’m definitely not.”

  “You are. You’re just… something we’ve never seen before.” He glanced around the room, rubbing his hands together.

  “I think I would know if I was a mage.”

  Finn scratched his head, then suddenly froze. His eye lit up; his mouth opened. “Of course!” A wide grin split his face and he laughed. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before. Holy…”

  “What?” Agnes demanded.

  Finn’s single, bright blue eye locked with Sarai’s. “You’re a shadow mage.”

  Agnes gasped.

  Something clicked into place in Sarai’s heart. She didn’t move. A mage? That’s insane. I’m… nothing… I’m nobody. I’m… But at the same time, little memories crept out of the dark recesses of her mind. How she’d always been able to hide, whenever she wanted to. Just… slip out of peoples’ awareness. And the things she picked up. Jeremy had always said she’d had a sense for the things people wanted hidden. But it was more than that. It wasn’t just the things they wanted hidden from others. It was the things they hid from themselves. Whatever those were, Sarai always knew. She looked up, saw the knowing look in Finn’s face.

  “A shadow mage?” Agnes interjected, startling both of them. “What even is that?”

  “No, it makes perfect sense,” Finn said. “Of course there are shadow mages. I’ve just… never met one before. We know that magic was split into the six elements, but that there was also a seventh type. They type Morthil didn’t intend. Why wouldn’t there be shadow mages as well?”

  “But…” Agnes said, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers thoughtfully on her upper arms. “It’s one thing for you to have never heard of shadow mages. But… no one? Not in the hundreds of years of mages before the fall?”

  Finn shrugged. “Maybe it’s new. Maybe there weren’t shadow mages before. Maybe the divide in magic is strengthening, or maybe it has something to do with the Ael.” He looked excitedly at Sarai. “We need to figure out what you can do.”

  32

  Sarai

  That night, Sarai pulled the covers up to her chin and lay staring up at the dark ceiling. A mage? Memories kept flickering into her mind, memories that suddenly made sense now. Her chest was strangely warm, her neck and shoulders tense. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Suddenly the very darkness around her felt familiar, friendly.

  She knew she shouldn’t, knew that if she made a mistake, she might call up one of those—things.
But she couldn’t help herself. She reached out, just to see what she could feel. How far did this go? Now that she knew it was something, something real and not just a bunch of hunches and luck, now she wanted to see what it could do, if it could do more.

  A darkness opened up inside her. A chasm widened around her, engulfing her. In it were shifting, shapeless masses. Two floors up, shame and insecurity, collecting in someone. Up another floor and ten feet north there was a mass of self-righteous rage. Below that, some guilt. She gasped, feeling like she was drowning, swimming inside a place she didn’t belong, and opened her eyes.

  “Sarai!”

  She grabbed the mirror from her bedside table and felt her heart skip a beat at that knowing grin, that artfully messy hair. At least he had a shirt on this time.

  “Hey Jeremy,” she said, trying to sound normal.

  He grinned, but there was something forced about it.

  “What’s taking you so long?”

  She frowned. “I told you, I have to figure out the magical protections he has.”

  He eyed her. “Are you sure that’s it?”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course that’s it. Have I ever taken this long before?”

  “You just… you seem different.”

  I’m a mage. “I’m annoyed that you gave me such a stupid assignment.”

  He laughed. “It paid well at least.” His face turned serious. “Or, it will, if you—”

  “I’ll finish it,” she said calmly.

  He looked at her steadily for several seconds, then glanced over his shoulder at the empty room behind. “Look, I don’t want to worry you, but I got a letter from our…from the person who hired us. They’re not happy. They expected you to be done by now.”

  “Yeah, well, tell them I’m not happy, either.”

  “I’ll probably be a bit more delicate than that.”

  “If you must.”

  “Look, that’s not all, though. I… spoke with the messenger… somewhat forcefully… and I think the message came from the Table.”

  Sarai lowered the mirror and raised her eyebrows. From here? The person who hired me is here? Her mind went to Isabelle, but she discounted that immediately. No way. She seemed pretty committed to keeping her boyfriend alive.

  “Anyway. Just… be careful. Whoever this is, they’re dangerous.”

  “Whoever it is has no idea who I am.” She paused. “Right?”

  Jeremy scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I think so. I’ve tried to keep you pretty quiet. And…” he looked away. “I mean, they have no idea who I sent to do the job.”

  A knock came on Jeremy’s door, and a tiny smile flashed across his face. “Sorry, Sarai, wish I could talk longer. I’ve got to run.”

  Her stomach flipped over, and she glanced away. “No, me too.”

  He adjusted his shirt, looking straight at her and smoothing his hair with a very focused expression on his face.

  Ugh. He’s using the mirror. She could just see her own faint reflection superimposed over his.

  “Later.” She rolled her eyes and tossed the mirror back onto the bedside table, covering it with a cloth. Mercifully, the sound cut out almost immediately.

  She wrapped her arms around her knees and laid her forehead on them. He’s never going to think of you that way. And why would he?

  A knock at the door cut through her thoughts.

  She checked her knives, then went to open it.

  Agnes stood there in a giant, fuzzy purple suit. It looked like a shaggy rug with feet. She was carrying a tray with two mugs and a steaming pitcher.

  “Hey! Can I come in?”

  She pushed through into the room and set the tray by the fire.

  “Want some cocoa?”

  The cocoa smelled delicious. She closed the door.

  “Uh, sure.”

  Agnes poured some dark brown liquid into the two cups, then curled up in her huge purple rug, eyeing Sarai over the rim of her cup.

  “So, how are you doing?”

  How am I doing? “Fine.”

  Agnes took a sip.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “About what?”

  “Any of it. You just found out you’re a mage, for one.” She looked at her shrewdly. “Or Jeremy.”

  Sarai looked down. Weirdly, though, she did want to talk. “I just talked to him.” She took a sip, and the warmth surprised her.

  “Did you tell him you’re a mage?”

  “No. He was… busy…” The lump rising in her throat surprised her, and her voice got weirdly tight. Oh gods, I’d better not cry.

  Agnes said nothing. Sarai set the mug down on the hearth, then pulled her knees into her chest again.

  “He was… with someone.”

  “Oh man, that sucks,” Agnes said. “But, look, that doesn’t mean anything. You’re like, super intimidating. Maybe he likes you but he’s too scared to say anything. I mean, you guys work together, right?”

  Sarai nodded, the tight spot in her chest loosening.

  “So, he probably doesn’t want to mess that up. Seriously, you’re awesome. Even without being a mage, he must know you’re the best.”

  Sarai looked up at her. “I mean, he’s always with someone, though. And… like… he’s really good looking. And he’s older than me.”

  “So? You’re really good looking.”

  Sarai laughed.

  “No, I’m serious. You are. I keep telling you this. And anyway, what does that even matter? You don’t need him.”

  Sarai picked up her mug again and took a longer drink. She eyed Agnes. “What about you?”

  “Eric and I have a kind of… thing. When he’s not being a jerk.”

  “The fire mage?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He seems like kind of an idiot.”

  Agnes snorted. “No. He’s a great mage, and smart, just kind of a jerk. But, you know, you like who you like.”

  Sarai couldn’t imagine liking someone like Eric. Jeremy was different… smart and so good with people, and clever, and funny, and incredibly good looking.

  “He’s not as great as you think he is,” Agnes said knowingly. “Really. I promise. Love is… kinda blinding.”

  Love? She grimaced.

  “Anyway, enough about that. Figured anything out about your powers yet?”

  Sarai shrugged, but again, she found herself wanting to talk. “I don’t know… I can see things, like, peoples’ thoughts… or insecurities.”

  “Oooh, wow, that’s so exciting. Man, I bet you’re like, super powerful. Maybe like Kel, even. Like, maybe you can use all the types, too, or do secret mind things…”

  Sarai’s stomach was warm, and not just from the cocoa. Maybe it didn’t even matter if Jeremy liked her. Maybe she could stay here. Maybe she would be a super famous, powerful mage, like Agnes said. Maybe Jeremy would show up and tell her he loved her and say he wanted to stay here with her.

  She lost herself in warm fantasies, staring into the fire as Agnes continued to speculate on what her powers might be.

  33

  Kel

  As soon as she had collected herself, Kel was back at the barrier. In the time she had been gone, two more Ael had appeared. They thrashed and screamed, throwing themselves against the wall. Did someone use magic? She couldn’t believe that they had.

  She needed the clearest connection she could get. She stepped through the barrier, and the thing lunged for her.

  I’m going to help you.

  Be careful, Kel. It was Smoke.

  I will.

  The creature picked her up and threw her down onto the ground, hard. Kel slowed herself, cushioning the blow.

  I need to know what Morthil did. The ritual.

  The creature shuddered but then swiped at her with claws that cut into her side.

  Please. Focus. I’m trying to help you. I’m going to help you. But I need to know what he did.

  It was there. She could feel it.
The creature knew what had happened, knew how Morthil had done it. But it couldn’t speak, couldn’t focus on it long enough. It was in too much pain.

  If she could just find a way to calm it, to ease its suffering long enough that it could tell her what it knew…

  A mouth with many sharp teeth opened and it lunged at her. She moved aside, deflecting it. It was pulling at her magic, too. She could feel how desperate it was, how fragmented and hungry. And then Kel had an idea.

  No, Kel, don’t, Smoke thought.

  This will work.

  It will kill you.

  No, it won’t. Except it might. Kel wasn’t sure. But she didn’t think it would, and either way, she knew this was the only way forward.

  Kel dropped part of her defense, only a small part, and the creature tore into her. Kel gasped in pain, but she gave it a little of her magic, and felt it go calmer.

  Please, tell me what Morthil did, so I can undo it.

  She could feel it struggling, trying to tell her, but it wasn’t enough. She opened the channel to herself a little wider.

  That’s too much, Kel, Smoke said, worry in his voice.

  I’ll be OK.

  It still wasn’t enough. The creature had stilled, and she could feel it trying to call up the memories she needed.

  This was the way forward.

  Kel, don’t.

  She dropped the last of her defenses. She felt the creature’s relief as it ate, pulling the power out of her. The magic was already slipping back out of it, like water from a leaky bucket, but for just a moment it felt whole.

  Thank you.

  Kel caught a glimpse of a woman’s face. Large orange eyes, and a sad, terrified expression.

  Quickly, we don’t have much time. Tell me what Morthil did. Tell me how he divided magic. And tell me if I can undo what he did.

  The woman’s face shuddered. The magic was leaking out of her so quickly. I think there might be a way.

  Quickly, her words pressed out in snatches between desperate gulps of air, the woman told Kel what she had to do.

  34

  Kel

  When the magic that Kel had given to the Ael had drained away, the woman ripped apart again, and Kel ran, pressing back through the barrier. She collapsed to the ground on the other side, tears running down her face, only now realizing that something inside her was very, very wrong.