“Now you suddenly want to help us?” she demanded.
“No time to argue,” Sarai said. “Unless you want to fight that thing crashing its way down here.” A rumble came from overhead. Uncomfortably close.
“Isn’t there some other way?” the Baron wheedled. “Magic is so useful…”
“Stay out of our way if you don’t want to get hurt,” Isabelle shot, and the Baron moved petulantly back into the shadows.
“Thank you,” Kel said, her smile warm and genuine.
Sarai pushed the dead body of that stupid other shadow mage out of the way and took his place. She briefly wondered what had happened to him but decided not to worry about it. She’d made her decision.
Kel said some words, and suddenly Sarai was no longer just Sarai. She was Kel and Isabelle and and the rest of the world expanding out around them. Whoa.
What had she ever been worried about before? Why had she even cared? She couldn’t remember.
Then the doorknob turned and Morthil strode in, his face a twisted mask of fury.
60
Kel
She could sense Morthil coming towards them. He was so close, close enough that she could feel him trying to get at the mages surrounding the pool. Kel put her arms up, clenching every muscle in her body and trying to block him. She just had to keep them conscious long enough to finish the ritual. How long would it take? Minutes? Seconds? This time she could feel that it was working.
The doorknob turned, and Morthil stepped into the room. His gaze swept over the mages clustered around the pool and he sent a blast of wind at them, knocking them back.
Kel moved in front, shielding the mages with her body. The wind hit her, and she stumbled, her body convulsing with the force of the magic. But she gathered it back into herself, steeling for another blow. A tiny part of her mind stayed locked on the ritual behind her. She could feel the magic pouring out of the mages into the pool, reforming there in the place that it had been split. Just a few seconds longer.
Morthil hit her with a bolt of energy and she stumbled back again, her eyes rolling up in her head. Another bolt hit her. He was advancing so fast, only a foot away now, and he was directing his power at the mages behind her now. She wasn’t going to be able to block him.
Suddenly, he stumbled, his face going white. He shook his head, looked back at the door, and swore. It took only a second before he recovered himself, but that was just enough time for Kel to get her feet under her. She set her own bolt of energy back at Morthil. It hit him square in the chest, throwing him backwards, but he was too strong. Much stronger than she was, and it barely fazed him at all. Her magic was still weak, and she didn’t know how long it would last. He was back almost immediately, heading straight for her, both hands raised and crackling with electricity.
Kel was ready for him, lifting a glowing green shield between them, but he shattered it in one hit. He raised his hands, a ball of light building between his fists. She tried to get control of herself, but she knew that she was going to crumble; she couldn’t hold him off long enough. The magic was beginning to knit together behind her, but so slowly. Too slowly.
Grow, please, Kel thought, but it didn’t help. It took its own time.
Morthil was right in front of her.
“Too slow, little sister. You’re not powerful enough for that. Not powerful enough for me.”
A sword point bloomed from his chest, and Morthil gave a groan of fury, spinning around to see the Baron standing behind him, white-faced and looking completely surprised at what he’d just done. Kel raised a hand, but Morthil directed a bolt of fire at the Baron and got there first. The Baron was thrown backwards, slamming hard into the wall. He collapsed in a heap, slumping down among the bones.
Kel turned her back on Morthil. She let go, stopped fighting, turned everything she had to the pool and the ritual within. She closed her eyes, opened her mind, and poured every last ounce of power she had into it, ripping the magic from the mages’ chests so hard she thought she might have killed them.
Time slowed; she could feel Morthil grabbing for her from behind.
Bright light exploded out of the pool, a huge shockwave knocked them all off their feet, and for a moment, time crawled nearly to a halt.
Kel watched as the mages slowly fell, turned and saw Morthil’s hands inches from her neck, his fingers long and crackling with fire. Finn’s fire.
But there in the center of the pool was a great, glowing white orb, pulsing and crackling, sending off bolts of white lighting, and there on the other side, the Ael.
The orb pulsed again, growing larger and larger with each pulse. The orb began to spin, faster and faster, pulling brightly colored threads out of the mages grouped around it, wrapping them into itself. Kel thought she heard, from very far away, a great crack of ice splitting apart, crumbling, and then the rush of water.
The air was filled with white light now, so blinding and radiant she thought the world itself would disintegrate.
The whole world went translucent, and Kel could suddenly see for hundreds of miles in every direction. Time froze, and she saw the Ael there on that other plane, distant and yet right here, too.
They came drifting inwards, and two of them reached down, grabbing the throbbing red soul that was Morthil inside Finn. They pulled him out, grasping and screaming, and dragged him back into that spirit world. One of them kissed Kel’s forehead as they passed.
61
Finn
Finn sat timelessly in a dark, unchanging place. He waited for a long time, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. He wondered how long he would be here. He wondered how long this would last. If he would be stuck here until Morthil died. Seeing as how Morthil was immortal, would he be here until the end of time? Unless someone managed to kill him?
There was nothing to see, nothing to do. Nothing.
Finn felt only a vague, endless terror in that ceaseless void, and a deep regret for what he had done, what he’d given up, what he’d tried to do.
He would have sat, but there was nowhere to sit. Nothing to sit on. And somehow, that was the worst of it. The worst part of the whole terrible thing. He would never sit again, he thought miserably.
At some point, after a long, long time of hopelessness, Morthil appeared. He looked drawn, haggard, frankly terrified, which Finn hoped was a good sign.
“How long has it been?” Finn asked vaguely.
“Hide me,” Morthil said, looking over his shoulder.
“What?”
“Hide me. I’ll send you back. I’ll give you back your body. Just let part of me stay here.”
“Part of you—what’s going on?”
“Please. I’ll give you everything you wanted. You wanted the country. I can make that happen. I can tell you how to make them all agree. I can read their minds from here and I will help you. I’ll help you with your school, with mages. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted. Just let part of me hide here, and don’t tell them I’m here. You don’t even have to use an oath stone. Just please, please let me stay here.”
Finn was taken aback by this complete reversal of Morthil’s usual demeanor.
“Why? Tell me what’s happening.”
“The Ael. They’re coming for me. They’re going to—” he swallowed hard and looked like he might throw up, as much as an incorporeal person could.
Finn looked around the ceaseless void that had become his home. He felt a tug, from some light airy place high above, felt himself beginning to drift upwards.
“Please,” Morthil said, his eyes large and pleading.
Finn shook his head.
“It’s time to give up.”
Morthil was quickly lost to him amidst the darkness as he rose out of sight.
62
Kel
The whole world vibrated and pulsed with power. And then Kel saw the mages. Every mage in the world, their minds still connected to that place the power came from. It flashed inside them. Whole for the first time, it
burned and sparked, and Kel saw that if she didn’t do something, they would die. Every one of them would die, right then.
And Kel didn’t hesitate. She pulled power from them. From every single living mage, she pulled their magic, and with it she built a barrier, a thin veil between the world of people and the spirit world.
There on the other side of the veil, she could see her people. The Ael with their large eyes and large mouths, who were connected to everything. Ruith lifted a hand, her long fingers resting gently on the boundary, and she smiled.
Kel knew that if she sealed the veil, she would never be able to reopen it, not without drawing from every mage in the world again, and if the veil were sealed, there would no longer be magic to draw from anyway.
She should seal it.
She knew she should.
Magic had caused the world so much trouble. The Ael were safe now. The humans were safe. But if Kel built this boundary, she would forever lose access to that other half of herself.
She knew she shouldn’t.
But she made a door.
So, so small. Just the tiniest of passageways. No one would know it was there but her. She pulled the silver ring from her finger, attached the door just inside of it, and replaced it.
She made it, and then everything fell away.
63
Sarai
Sarai’s eyes flickered open, and she saw dim shapes picking themselves up off the floor. There was someone stumbling about. Someone yelped; someone else apologized.
“Get the door open so we can get some light in here,” Isabelle said.
Door handle… something about that was important. Oh right.
“Don’t touch the handle,” Sarai said groggily. “There’s poison on it.”
She hadn’t known whether Morthil would be affected by it at all, but it seemed to have helped at least somewhat.
The door was kicked open, and light from the hall outside shone in.
Dark silhouettes moved here and there, some helping others up. Sarai crawled to the door, and outside in the hall she saw what she was looking for.
Agnes. She was alive and sitting up, her back against the wall, and taking long, slow, deep breaths.
Sarai made her way over to her gingerly and slid down next to her.
“Hey.”
Agnes jumped.
“Sarai! What are you—”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left like that. Turns out Jeremy’s an asshole so I came back.”
Agnes didn’t say anything, she just wrapped her arms around her.
“Sorry.”
“It’s OK.”
Agnes leaned away again, fingering a rip in her suit. Her fingers twisted, then paused, then twisted again. She frowned.
Other people were starting to exclaim, too.
“Can you do anything?”
“What’s happened to magic?”
It was Frewin’s farewell dinner all over again.
“I think it’s gone,” Sarai said quietly.
Agnes gave a small sob.
“I’m sorry about that, too. I helped.”
Tears were running down Agnes’s cheeks, but she shook her head and patted Sarai on the knee. “It’s OK. You did what you had to do. Thanks. Thanks for coming back. I don’t know what you did. I don’t really remember anything…”
Sarai didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to think about all that had happened. She just wanted to sit there in silence, next to her friend, grateful that they were both alive.
64
Sarai
“Hey Payl, it’s us,” Agnes said, leaning over the edge of the sickbed and grasping the tiny white hand.
Sarai stood awkwardly on the other side, clasping opposite elbows.
She would never have been shot if it weren’t for me.
Agnes gave her a stern look and inclined her head towards a stool. Sarai sat.
Payl’s eyelids flickered open. She looked blearily from Agnes to Sarai, then down at her hands.
“Yes, it’s gone. We did it,” Agnes said.
Payl’s eyes widened, and Sarai found it difficult to read the expression she saw there. Relief? But the expression turned quickly to fear, and Payl bit her lip, glancing at Sarai.
“It’s OK, you can trust her.”
Payl looked skeptical.
“Come on, Payl, you know you can believe me.” She detailed what Sarai had done, how she had helped them stop Morthil and destroy magic.
Payl played with the edge of the bedcovers for a moment, then sighed.
“All right. Good.” Payl glanced at Sarai again, then back to Agnes. “Montvale will know already. And they’ll know I didn’t warn them.” She struggled to sit up.
Sarai frowned, processing what Payl had said, struggling to get past how strange it was just to hear the girl speak at all.
“They have no way of knowing we’re responsible, though, right?”
“No, but they know about Morthil and the bargain. And they have a few mages. Had.” Payl’s face went grey with pain and she slumped back onto the pillows, her hand clutching the bandage around her chest.
“Wait…” Sarai said. “You’re a… a spy?”
Payl rolled her eyes. “It’s clear there’s less overlap than people would think between spy and assassin.”
Sarai ignored the insult. She was not going to win any arguments about her subterfuge skills, she knew that.
“And you talk?” she asked.
“When I’m not hanging around quietly listening,” Payl said.
“But…”
Payl turned to Agnes. “You’d better talk to Finn. They’ll know I’ve turned now, which means they’ll send someone for me. And a replacement.”
“Wait. Finn knows about this?” Sarai asked.
“Of course,” Agnes said, laughing. “Really, you think you’re the only one with ulterior motives he gave me to crack?” She patted Payl’s hand fondly. “Payl was one of the first mages to appear in Montvale. The king found out and sent her here as a spy. He assumed paying her would make up for the terrible things he’d done to her family.”
Payl’s face went dark, and her fingers tightened on the blankets.
“Don’t worry, Payl. We’ll fake your death or something. Now. You two stay here and talk, I’m going to go warn Finn.”
After she left, Sarai and Payl regarded one another.
“How many people have you killed?” Payl asked.
Sarai shrugged. “A hundred?”
She thought she saw a flicker of a smile pass over Payl’s face.
“Why, how many have you killed?”
Payl didn’t answer.
65
Finn
Magic was really and truly gone. The mages were back to being just regular teenagers. No fiery explosions, no freezing waterfalls with their angry parent’s faces on them. No fake fart noises or snatches of whispered gossip on breezes from the wind mages.
Finn could hardly believe it as he walked the halls of what had recently been his mage school.
Many of the students left immediately, returning to the families or villages that had thrown them out. Finn tried to think of this as a good thing. One less trouble for the world to deal with. One less painful thing for young people growing up and finding their way in the world.
He thought back to himself at that age, and what he would have given to get rid of his magic. Anything, he thought, ironically.
But many chose to stay. The gardens still thrived. If it was no longer a mage school, it could at least be a city.
Water would be a problem, in the middle of the dry plains, but they would figure something out. Kel would help. He knew she would. Even if he hadn’t seen her since that day they’d fought and he’d been taken over by Morthil.
She hadn’t said much more than a word or two to him when he’d awoken. She was glad he was alive, but that was it. After that she’d left, and he didn’t know where to. He found himself heading to the gardens in the eve
nings, scanning the skies, looking for the familiar shape of wings across the moon. He wasn’t even sure if she had her powers, or if they, too, were lost.
66
Sarai
“Ouch,” Sarai said, flinching away from Agnes, who was kneeling near her feet.
“Hold still, this whole needle concept is new to me,” Agnes muttered through the several pins clasped between her lips.
Sarai sighed. Why did I agree to this? Oh right, so that she’d forgive me for destroying magic.
In the corner of Sarai’s room, Payl sat leaning against the wall, happily eating a pastry as large as her head—Samuel at least had totally embraced non-magical means of cooking and baking.
“You know, it sure takes longer, but it’s not terrible, this sewing thing,” Agnes commented.
“Great.” Sarai looked down, then wished she hadn’t. She was trying not to be fully aware of what was happening. Too late, though. She was totally encased in a bright yellow bodysuit. She turned her head and blew at a strange, bright pink tuft on one of her shoulders.
“What’s this supposed to be?”
“Feathers?” Agnes shrugged. “I don’t know. Felt right.”
“And how long do you want me to wear this?”
Agnes stuck another pin in and moved back, surveying the lower half with a critical eye. Then she grinned. “We’ll see.”
“You look great,” Payl said, laughing into her pastry.
Sarai shook her head, but she smiled in spite of herself. Of all the outcomes she’d expected, this was not one of them. She would never have guessed, three weeks ago, that she would be staying at the King’s Table indefinitely, nor that she would find herself dressed in a skintight yellow bodysuit like some kind of giant, wingless bird. She had a brief mental image of people seeing her in this, grimaced, and reached subconsciously for that shadowy place that would pull her out of peoples’ awareness, only to find it empty.
Shadow Mage Page 26
