Shadow Mage

by Sarah McCarthy

  She began to shake.

  Smoke?

  There was only a deadening silence. With a sickening jolt, Kel realized that everything was silent. There were no birds, no wolves, no pleasant hum of plants. It was all gone.

  Shaking even harder, she wiped the tears from her face, smearing dirt across her cheeks, and looked up at the table. She stretched, straining to feel the transformation, to feel herself become something else, but it wouldn’t come. No wings would sprout from her back, no talons from her fingers.

  She sank back to the ground, her knees folded under her, her head bowed. She couldn’t feel any of them.

  Smoke?

  Still nothing. She felt panic welling up inside her. She swallowed it back down, clenching her fists on her knees. It’s going to be OK. It’ll come back. She stood, swaying slightly, the great emptiness yawning around her.

  Slowly, so slowly, she walked to the gates of the Table. For the first time ever, she knocked. The mage who opened them looked confused to see her, a half smile curling on his face; he wondered if it was a joke, until he saw the expression on her face, then pulled back, moving out of the way and letting her limp up the passage.

  “Kel, what’s wrong? Can I help you?” he asked, locking the gate again and running after her.

  She shook her head.

  “No, thank you. I’m all right. I just need to find Finn.”

  “I think he went to his office.”

  She nodded heavily.

  “Thank you.”

  It took what felt like an eternity for her to climb to the top. She took a roundabout way to avoid going through the gardens. She couldn’t bring herself to face them, to feel their emptiness. It’s OK, she told herself. I know what I need to know. I know what I need to do now.

  Halfway up, Smoke came barreling around a corner. He skidded to a stop, his eyes wide, staring her up and down. She knelt.

  “I’m OK,” she said around the lump in her throat.

  Smoke moved around her, looking her up and down. He kept looking back to her face, looking like he wanted to say something. She was almost glad she couldn’t hear his reproach for what she’d done.

  Finally, satisfying himself that she at least wasn’t bleeding anymore, he climbed up her arm and curled protectively around her neck, his fur warm and soft against her skin, his cold nose just touching her collarbone. He padded her shoulder softly with his tail.

  Fighting back tears, Kel stood and continued on.

  She climbed several flights of steps. Had the Table always been this tall? It had seemed tiny before. A simple, comfortable place. Tiny compared to the wide world. Stop thinking about that. It won’t help.

  She found the door to Finn’s office, which she’d only used a few times before, and knocked. Smoke patted her on the shoulder again.

  “Come in,” came Finn’s voice from behind it.

  She stepped inside. Finn stood, his hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window. He turned, and when he saw the look on her face his expression went slack.

  “Kel, oh my gods, what happened? What’s wrong”

  His sympathy threatened to break the dam that was holding everything back. She sank into the chair in front of his desk, shaking her head.

  “I’m all right. Nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing,” he said, sitting on the desk in front of her, bending down to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?” He took her hands.

  She pulled her hands carefully out of his grasp.

  “It’s… it doesn’t matter. I’ll be all right. I found out something important.”

  He seemed to realize that she needed to avoid whatever it was, needed to talk about something other than what had happened.

  He moved back behind the desk, sitting down and leaning forward, clasping his hands in front of him. “What is it, Kel? What did you find out?”

  “I found out how to fix magic.”

  Finn straightened. “You what?”

  Kel took a steadying breath and looked him straight in the eyes. “I spoke with the Ael. The monsters are here because of what Morthil did. Breaking magic. I know how to heal it. I can do it today. And the monsters will be gone. And the Ael will no longer be in pain. The divide is torturing them, Finn.”

  Finn’s jaw dropped, then he sucked in a long breath. He looked down at his fingers. “Kel…”

  She waited, knowing what he was about to ask, but she was going to let him ask it.

  He couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Kel, if we… if we fix the rift. What will that do to magic?”

  “It means there will no longer be a split. The divide Morthil created will be gone.”

  “And mages?”

  She looked down. “I don’t know. I don’t think humans would be able to use magic anymore.”

  He stared at his hands for a long, long time.

  “Finn, this is a way to fix everything.”

  He looked up, agonized. “No, no, you’re right, Kel. But… but…”

  She watched him struggle.

  “There must be another way…” Finn said, casting around desperately.

  “I don’t think there is.”

  He looked down at his hands again. At the missing little finger of his left hand.

  “This is how we stop Morthil, too.”

  “Putting magic back together won’t stop Morthil. The Oath Stones were created by the Ael. It might even make it stronger.”

  “No, but it will keep Morthil from gaining power like he did before. He won’t have mages to draw from.” Finn had seen the piles of bodies in this place. He knew what Morthil was going to do with the mages when he broke free.

  Finn looked down, then back up, agony written across his face. “We can beat him. We can stop him.”

  “By killing yourself?”

  He froze.

  “That’s not going to work,” Kel said. And she could see in his face that he knew it was true.

  “How… how does the ritual work?” Finn asked hollowly.

  She could tell he was buying time, but she relented, explained the ritual to him, explained what they needed to do. That they needed one of each of the six types of mages.

  Finn straightened. His gaze darted to the side. “All right, Kel. I… I see your point. You… you should try.”

  Something wasn’t right. There was something he wasn’t telling her. Maybe he didn’t think the mages would agree. Maybe he thought she wouldn’t be able to go through with it, or that it wouldn’t work even if she did. But it didn’t matter. I’m going to do it. I’ll convince them. It will work.

  “Thank you. I’ll need your help.”

  He nodded heavily, still not quite meeting her eyes.

  She stood to go, before the dam inside her broke.

  “Kel?”

  Something in his voice made her turn.

  “What?’

  He looked like he was about to say something, then changed his mind. “Good luck.”

  She nodded and left.

  35

  Finn

  No less than eleven monsters now roamed the perimeter, stalking that ever-weakening barrier they had erected. No one was doing magic, as far as Finn knew. He’d lectured all the students together and individually, but still there were more of them down there.

  Finn swallowed and groaned. As much as he’d tried to keep up the show of optimism for Isabelle, his shell was beginning to crack. For ten years he’d worked and hoped and pushed himself and everyone around him as hard as he could. And they’d made incredible progress. This place they had built was amazing. And if he could just do this one last thing—well, two things, really—then it would all be done. He would have done the impossible. He had to keep believing. He had to keep trying. He couldn’t let his resolve waver. He turned and paced back the way he had come, trying not to look down as one of the monsters shrieked and ripped a limb off one of the others.

  “Excuse me, Finn?” A soft voice spoke behind him, and Finn whirled around, mid stride
, to see the large dark eyebrows and long black hair of Frewin Redwood.

  “Oh, Frewin, yes, how can I help you?”

  “Do you have a moment? I would like to speak with you.”

  Finn glanced at the monsters. The second one had now ripped the head off the first one and was tearing it apart with its several taloned hands.

  “Er, sure, how about over here?” He pointed to a bench underneath one of the more delicate and impressive fountains. Which conveniently had no view of the monsters.

  Frewin bowed and followed Finn. He sat next to him, only a few feet away, perched on the edge of the bench, his hands clasped in front of him.

  “The Macai appreciate your invitation,” Frewin said. Finn’s stomach twisted nervously. The man had an unreadable face.

  “We’re happy to have you here.”

  “I wish I could say the same.”

  You don’t like it here? Finn stopped himself before the words slipped out of him mouth. The nice gardens and the good food probably didn’t make up for the monster that had nearly killed him.

  “Look, that thing with the monster, that was super rare.” He stopped himself. “I shouldn’t even say rare. It’s never happened before. And we now have a way to deal with them.”

  One of the monsters below screamed and another bellowed in rage. Finn winced.

  “My sister just wants to look for a… well a more humane way to deal with them. But if that doesn’t work, we’re getting rid of them tomorrow. At the latest.”

  Frewin’s large, black eyebrow twitched slightly, but otherwise he didn’t react. “Of course. Well, I don’t know if you are aware, but my people have given me complete authority in these matters. I am able to make any decision necessary. At any time.”

  Finn’s heart rose, even though he sensed this was not going to go the way he hoped it would.

  “Have you given more thought to the idea of closer diplomatic relations? Possibly having a permanent ambassador here?”

  “I have.”

  “And?”

  “I would like to remain here, partially as an ambassador, but partially for oversight. My position, and the position of the Macai people, is that you need to be contained.”

  “Contained?”

  Frewin looked down at the tattoos on his fingers, touched the single bare one, as if he wore a ring there, too, and was trying not to twist it.

  “Mages are a danger to themselves and everyone around them. This far outweighs the uses magic could bring. We are willing to let mages live, but only if you agree to remain here indefinitely.”

  Finn recoiled. “What?”

  “Am I unclear? We require you to agree to remain here. To take any and all mages we send you, and to not allow a single one to leave.”

  “You want me to make the King’s Table a… a prison?”

  Frewin waved a hand. “Prison, sanctuary, home… you can call it whatever you wish. Just so long as you never leave it.”

  “That’s… that’s insane…”

  Frewin raised his eyebrows as three of the monsters below began ripping apart a fourth. It gave several deep groans and made a splitting, cracking sound.

  “Would you like some time to decide?” Frewin asked.

  Decide? We don’t deserve to be locked up like… like criminals. We haven’t done anything wrong. His resolve wavered a little more. This isn’t working. None of this is working. But he shook his head. No. I’m not going to let myself doubt again. As long as I try hard enough, as long as I don’t give up, it’s going to be OK.

  “Ambassador Frewin,” Finn said. “We will never agree to those terms. We are not monsters.”

  “No, you simply create them.”

  “This is the first,” Finn snapped, then caught himself. “But that’s beside the point. This is a temporary problem. Completely temporary. Utterly fixable.”

  “Once you’ve fixed it, you’re welcome to revisit the agreement. To see if we can find more agreeable terms.”

  Finn shook his head. “Can’t you see what we’ve built? Can’t you see how much magic can give to the world?”

  “I’d rather have a somewhat more difficult life in which I know there are not going to be things like that.” He gestured beyond the battlements.

  Try as he might, Finn could not find a single flaw in that logic. Probably that should tell him something. But it wasn’t going to. I’m done with self-doubt. This is what I want, and this is what I’m going to do. Another voice cut in. And damn everyone else? Is that it? Who cares if there are consequences? What about the people who have died? What about Merriny? He shook himself again. No. We’re going to make this work.

  “I can see you are not swayed,” Frewin said. “I’ll give you a few days to think about it.” He glanced over the battlements, at the disintegrating barrier. Then he stood, bowed, and left.

  There’s still the Uplands. And Nate.

  36

  Kel

  “Oh, I think I saw Isabelle out in the gardens, in her whirlpool,” Japhlet said, adjusting her glasses.

  Kel’s heart sank at the thought of having to go through the gardens, but she nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I think she’s taking it pretty hard that we can’t do magic right now.”

  Kel only half heard, nodding vaguely and muttering something before moving off.

  The gardens were quiet. Empty. The birds still fluttered, the leaves rustled, the flowers bent in the breeze, but there was a deathly silence under everything.

  A crow flapped over to her, alighting on a nearby branch and cocking its head, examining her sharply with its bright black eye.

  She offered it a brass button from one of her pockets, and it took it and flapped away.

  In the back corner of the garden, Kel found Isabelle floating despondently fifteen feet in the air. When she saw Kel, she flipped over and jumped down, landing on her feet.

  “This current was already here, so it doesn’t count as using magic, right?”

  “I think so.”

  “This not doing magic stuff sucks.” Isabelle stuck her hands in her pockets. Then she leaned forward. “You look like crap.”

  Kel felt tears welling up but swallowed them back down. “I need your help.”

  Isabelle’s eyebrows raised. “With what?”

  “I just spoke with the Ael. That’s what the monsters are. The split in magic is tormenting them. I know how Morthil divided magic, and I’m going to put it back together.” If I’m even able to, she thought, but shook off her fear and continued. “To do that, I need one of each type of mage. I’m hoping you’ll be the wind mage.”

  Isabelle’s eyebrows lifted even higher. “That solves the Morthil problem, too. Well, part of it.”

  “It’s possible that, if he doesn’t have mages to draw from, I’ll be able to beat him somehow. After the oath stone isn’t protecting him anymore.” After he had taken possession of Finn’s body, was the unspoken addition to that thought.

  Isabelle tapped her chin, nodding along. “This all sounds awesome. Why do you look like death?”

  Kel shook her head. “There’s a catch.”

  “Ah.”

  “If I put magic back together—”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  Isabelle bit her lip and shook her head. “Whoa.” She moved to sit down on a low rock wall, resting her elbows on her knees and looking down at the ground. After several moments she looked up. “Can’t you just kill Morthil now?”

  Kel shook her head. “I don’t think I could. Also, that doesn’t solve the problem of the Ael.”

  Isabelle ran a hand through her loose, white hair. “But why now? It’s been hundreds of years that there have been mages. It’s never been a problem before.”

  “I think it’s always been a problem, it’s just that it took this long for the Ael to get back into some kind of physical form. Also, the divide seems to be getting worse.”

  Isabelle let out a great rush of air and looked down at the ground
again. “So… you’re saying that…”

  “As long as magic is divided, we’re tormenting the Ael and using them for our powers.”

  “Aww, man…” Isabelle put her head in her hands. “That sucks.”

  “Yeah.”

  Isabelle sat up. “OK. I mean, yeah, we definitely have to do something about that. Isn’t there like… some other way? Can’t we just… make them more comfortable?”

  “They’re torn in pieces, and we’re using their energy for…” She gestured at the gardens and wind and water sculptures all around them.

  “Yeah… OK, that’s super bad.”

  Kel sighed. At least someone agrees.

  “But…” Isabelle said. “Look, I realize this sounds terrible, but… isn’t there something else we can do? This… this is literally who I am. Who we all are.” She looked at the wind sculpture behind her. “I… I didn’t ask for this… and it sucked… but this is who I am now.” She looked away and then back at Kel, and there was a desperation in those dark, long-lashed eyes that Kel had never seen there before. “I realize I sound like a terrible person, because obviously we can’t keep doing this if we’re just torturing people. Like, that’s definitely wrong. But there has to be some way… can we at least try something else?”

  Kel swallowed hard, knowing what she was asking. For every mage in the world to give up what she had just lost. “I really don’t think there’s any other way. If there was… maybe. If it really truly wasn’t hurting the Ael anymore.”

  “Right. Of course. Torturing is bad.”

  “I just… I doubt there’s another way. And every day we put it off is another day of torment for them.”

  “And another day closer to Morthil getting Finn,” Isabelle said heavily.

  “Finn’s already agreed,” Kel said, and Isabelle’s eyebrows shot up. She put her hands on her knees and leaned back.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I just spoke with him. So, he’ll be the fire mage. If you’ll be the wind mage, I just need four more.”