Agate- Then and Now

by M. D. Grimm

  “Aishe,” I said through gritted teeth. I didn’t think any force in the world would have been able to pry his fingers from my jacket. He hunched behind me, trying to become as small as possible. I risked another glance at him. His face was inches from mine, his remarkable bright green eyes filled with terror. My heart contracted even as my fury rose again. I used it, allowing my magick to flood higher, closer to the surface. I saw my own face reflected in his pupils, and my skin glowed white, my eyes shining amber. Awe now mixed with the terror in his stare. He didn’t move, not one inch.

  I shifted slightly, bringing my right arm up, seeing nothing but furious fire smashing against my shield. “Trust me,” I said, gasping for breath. “I’ll protect you.”

  I felt him nod where his head now pressed against my back. He was doing well, considering. Except for that one scream, he hadn’t made a sound, following my instructions; he must have known that was the only way he would get out of this alive. Hold on, my love.

  I knelt, pressing my right hand to the ground once again. This used to be so hard for me: endurance, elemental magick. But now it was simply one more skill added to my ever-growing collection. Holding the word for the magick firmly in my head, I added another. In my mind’s eye I could see what was happening, even if my real eyes could only see flame. A section of the earth rose up like a serpentine beast and rushed right at Drasyln. I heard her scream as the fire disappeared.

  The ground shook, heaved once, then settled. Gasping, I dropped the shield and stood, Aishe still clinging. The earth collapsed on itself, but I highly doubted I’d squashed her like the bug she was. Dirt hovered in the air, and I coughed as I inhaled it. The debris obscured my vision but with a flick of my wrist and a word, it settled instantly to the ground. Despite my now clear vision, I didn’t see her anywhere.

  Cursing, I knew we had to leave before she decided to come back, but I still hadn’t completed the task that sent me here. I quickly traversed the wrecked field, and Aishe still gripped me from behind, trailing after me, stumbling now and then. I couldn’t find any hairs. I didn’t know if she was skilled or patient enough to create a potion, like I did, that not only slicked back my hair, making it harder for the strands to shed, but—after I’d modified it—destroyed the hairs if they did shed. I’d had my hair used against me once; I never wanted that to happen again.

  “Is she gone?” Aishe’s voice was quiet, small.

  “Yes. For now.”

  He shuddered out a breath, a violent tremble vibrating through his body. Then he stood straighter, and I glanced over my shoulder. He closed his eyes a moment, and with what seemed like a lot of effort, pried his fingers from my jacket. Then he just crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the ground. He had a lot to come to grips with.

  “Give me your hand.” I held out my own.

  He blinked, and, still not looking up, gripped my hand. His skin was like ice.

  “Hang on.” With a murmured word, we sped off, magickally moving faster than the eye could see.

  ***

  I couldn’t go immediately back to the Ravena tribe. I didn’t want to risk leading Drasyln right to her target. Night fell. I sped many kirons away from both the field and the camp, and made a fire in a densely packed forest. It was slightly ominous. I liked it since it reminded me of Vorgoroth.

  I would have tried to track Atcoatlu’s magicakal signature, but I didn’t dare leave Aishe alone. I also don’t think he would have let me out of his sight. I didn’t need him freaking out on me. But Aishe hadn’t spoken a word since the meadow. I think he was still in shock. Seeing magick, especially a magickal battle for the first time, could do that. She’d used him as a shield, and that wasn’t something one forgot. He sat across the fire from me, his arms wrapped around his bent knees, his eyes staring blindly into the flames. He rocked back and forth, every now and then giving a small shudder.

  I took a deep breath. “You still with me, Aishe?”

  He jerked, then his eyes focused on me. He nodded.

  “Say something. You’re worrying me.”

  “What can I say?” His voice was still small. “I...I can’t believe that just happened.”

  Concerned, I stood and walked over, sitting next to him. I put a hand on his shoulder to find it stiff and tremulous.

  “Easy, Aishe,” I said gently. “We’re safe. I’ve put a shield around us with detectors that will alert me should she be near. Trust me.”

  “I do,” he whispered. Then he met my eyes, his own filling with tears. “You saved my life. Again.” His breath hitched. Then he looked away, his arm coming up to block his face from my view. No one wants to cry in front of their hero. I removed my hand and stared at the fire, giving him some privacy. He cried softly, I barely heard him. It was hard to control the desire to hold him and to keep him safe in my arms. Drasyln would pay for every tear he shed. Though he hadn’t been physically harmed besides the bruises, ones I’d healed as best I could, mental harm could cut as deep. Deeper, even. He’d probably have nightmares for a few weeks. My magick rushed to the surface but I stamped it down. Now was not the time to lose control. She would feel immense pain before I granted her death.

  A short time later I heard him take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I looked at him again. His eyes were still big, but much of the shock had faded. His body seemed less tense, less stiff, and he even lowered his knees so he sat crisscross instead of hunched into himself.

  “Why did you?” he asked. I sensed his hesitancy but his curiosity, as always, won out. “Why did you save me? Now I owe you again.”

  I smiled, shook my head. “No, Aishe. You don’t owe me anything.”

  He frowned. “Why not? I never did pay you back for the first time you saved me. Now I owe you twice!” His face suddenly tightened. “You were right. I’m just a burden. I’m not worth anything.”

  He said those last words so vehemently, I jerked back in shock. Fury was in his young face, but directed inward, and his hands fisted on his legs, his breathing became hard.

  “Why did I ever think I could be any help to a mage? A mage! What’s wrong with me? I’m hopeless. Stupid. Stupid, stupid.” He punctuated each insult with a thump on his legs.

  “Stop!” My voice was hard, and he whipped his head toward me. Even I was surprised by the anger I felt by his words. He made me feel insulted. “Don’t you dare say those things about yourself.” I tried to gentle my voice but my words still came out with an edge to them.

  He looked away. “But it’s the truth. I’m a joke. My tribe pities me.”

  I couldn’t endure such insecurities from him, especially when I knew what he would become. I admired this dialen, respected him like I did few others. He always wore his confidence and strength like a second skin. To see him so defeated, so self-hating, ripped my heart in two. I reached over slowly, gripped his chin, turning his face back to me. His mouth was set in a hard line, his eyes fierce with the impotency of a clumsy child.

  “Aishe, you listen, and you listen well,” I said softly, my voice taking on a tone I’d heard from Master Ulezander a time or two. “You are worth more than you can possibly know. You are priceless, unique. Special. Your future holds so many possibilities, so many choices, and you’re smart enough to choose the right course.”

  He stared at me, mouth open. I shifted my hand to cup his smooth cheek, managing a small smile. It was staggering to see Aishe this way, to know him as an insecure child who simply needed someone to take an interest in him. Someone to pick him out of the crowd, to tell him he was different, chosen.

  “Relax, Aishe. You have a long journey ahead of you, a life to live. You’re still growing and learning. Don’t rush yourself. Take each day for the gift it is.” That was a lesson I’d had to learn the hard way. “You will become a warrior. You will become a valued member of your tribe. You’re so important to—” I cleared my throat. “You’re important to your tribe. They’re lucky to have you.” I patted
his cheek and pulled away. “Trust me, I’m a mage.”

  Aishe stared at me in silence, his eyes glowing with wonder in the firelight. Then he absently touched the cheek where my hand had rested and the look in his eyes changed before he blushed, turning toward the fire.

  I blinked, realizing the significance of what happened. While he might have liked me before, now...oh yes, now came the crush. He smiled at me but he seemed embarrassed, slightly fidgety, not meeting my gaze. He was speechless in the way others became around the one they were infatuated with. I’d felt the same the first time I met Aishe. I stared at the fire, wondering when I might go back to my own time. Wondering when this task would be complete.

  “Morgorth?”

  Aishe’s small voice penetrated my thoughts. I glanced over at him. “Yes?”

  He stared at the fire, his hands playing with the ends of his tunic. “What did that mage mean when she talked about what the Mother has written, and to tell me who you really are?”

  I swallowed a sigh and rubbed my chin. “It’s complicated, Aishe. She and I have history.”

  Aishe seemed to wait for more, but when I didn’t oblige, he settled down on the ground right next to me, his eyes now wandering over me. I looked away. Why hadn’t Aishe told me about any of this? Why the secret? A sigh escaped me. I wouldn’t have those answers anytime soon. Lying back, I stared up at the sky, listening to the snap and crackle of the fire. Aishe’s parents had packed food in his bag and we’d eaten it. I’d landed us near enough to a stream where we would collect water before we journeyed back to the camp. I’d make us invisible, of course, and have Aishe direct me back. From there, I didn’t know what I’d do.

  Warmth against my side had me turning my head. Aishe had moved, quite stealthily despite his clumsiness, and curled against my side, his eyes firmly shut. He tried to be sneaky about it, pretending he was asleep. I rolled my eyes and stared back at the sky. It wasn’t a very cold night, but I didn’t mind his presence. But I had to wonder how I was going to fend off the advances of a young kid hitting puberty without breaking his heart. I cringed. I remembered when I’d hit puberty: it had been highly unpleasant. I had to keep my distance but I had to do it delicately, so as not to make that infatuation turn into hate.

  My mouth curled in frustration. Great. Just great.

  Chapter Six

  The memory flooded through my mind, my dreams, and I let it come. I remembered everything. I remembered first meeting her.

  I knew who she was the moment she entered the camp. I continued to sit, letting her seek me out. The Jesllan tribe welcomed her, seeming to know her from previous visits. That didn’t surprise me; this tribe was one of the few with strong alliances with non-dialen. They relished power, war, and they indulged those desires frequently in their territory, located on the southern continent. They lived on desert plains, their skin as black as the night, their hair equally so. But their eyes were often a piercing blue, a color found nowhere else in nature. Even now they were readying themselves for a war dance—one that would call upon their ancestors for success in battle. Their ceremonial garb and weapons were rather humorous but I said nothing, of course. I had no desire to offend my hosts.

  I’d been with the Jesllan tribe for a week. I should probably go home eventually. I sighed. Home. I had a home now, one I’d created for myself, one I’d built out of my own sweat and blood. It had taken years to finish but I was convinced it was all worth it. I’d never had a home before, never knew what that word meant. Even now I wondered if I knew. I wasn’t there, was I? I wasn’t wandering the many halls and rooms of Geheimnis, and I wasn’t traversing the trails and paths of Vorgoroth. I was here, many kirons away, with a dialen tribe. What was wrong with me?

  “Lord Morgorth?”

  I lifted my head, gazed up at the strikingly beautiful mage with long, glossy black hair and eyes that threatened to drown me. I didn’t make any move to stand, or to greet her with any courtesy. I wasn’t one for etiquette.

  “That would be me, who are you?”

  “Call me Drenna.”

  I knew that wasn’t her name. Her name was Drasyln. She was a wanted criminal in the mage world, one the Council of Mages had some of their dogs, otherwise known as enforcers, tracking. Master Ulezander would want me to alert the council immediately so she could be taken into custody. But I was curious. She had obviously sought me out. But what for? Besides, I wasn’t about to do the council’s work for them. If they wanted her, they would just have to catch her themselves.

  She sat next to me, her movements graceful, silky, her entrancing eyes fixed on my face. My body stirred. I appreciated beauty in all its forms, but this was the deadly sort of beauty that attracted me with greater intensity. And from what I’d heard about her, she was one of the deadliest: a seductress, a manipulator, someone who convinced mages to use their powers for her benefit before she left them high and dry. I wondered how she would use her wiles on me.

  She made sure her body was advantageously arranged so I would have to be blind not to see her round hips, her tiny waist, her generous bosom, the cleavage playing peek-a-boo over the top of her bodice, which was strategically nearly unlaced. But she did it with such skill that, had I not known who she was, I would have been in danger of falling under her spell. But even with the knowledge I had, my groin hardened, my blood heated.

  “You are certainly a hard mage to find,” she said, her voice a husky purr. I raised an eyebrow, making sure no other expression showed on my face or eyes. I stayed still, making no move toward her, keeping strict distance. I would have her, I’d already determined that, but on my terms. Not hers.

  “Obviously not that hard. Or you’re just persistent.”

  She laughed softly. Her voice fluttered over my ears pleasantly. Her full lips curved, and I had a sudden desire to know what they felt like against mine.

  “I am incredibly persistent,” she said. She managed to make the statement an innuendo. “When I want something, I take it. Without remorse, without pity. I believe you and I have that in common.”

  “Perhaps we do.” I tilted my head. The tribe had begun their dance and their chanting filled the night. The bonfires flamed high, spreading the dancers’ shadows across the ground, and over us. We ignored the dancers and they ignored us.

  “I know we do.” She leaned slightly closer, her scent tickling my nose. “I know your reputation, Lord Morgorth. I know you to be ruthless, cunning, without mercy. All the things a powerful mage should be.”

  I smiled slightly even as my stomach clenched. I used to be that way. I really didn’t know what I was or who I was now. What I wanted. But I showed nothing, betrayed nothing. She was pitching something to me; I just needed to wait her out.

  “I’m flattered.” I inclined my head to her, leaning back on my elbows, seemingly at ease. “Such a beautiful mage takes an interest in me, I must be blushing.”

  She chuckled, lying on her side next to me, propping her head in her palm. The position made her breasts swell farther over her bodice. I swallowed hard.

  “I didn’t tell you I was a mage.”

  “You didn’t have to, Drenna. I sensed it.”

  She grinned. “Did you? Now I’m the one blushing.”

  “You don’t seem like the blushing type.” I looked pointedly at her breasts.

  She laughed, making them jiggle. “Neither do you, Dark Mage.”

  I rolled over on my side, facing her. “Why don’t we drop the charade, Drenna? You want something from me. What is it?”

  She pouted. I had the insane urge to nibble on that lush lip. “No fair. I was enjoying the game. What gave me away?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing in particular.” Except for the fact that no one who looked like Drasyln would take any interest in scrawny me without ulterior motives. “Like I’ve said, I sense things. Now, why don’t you talk to me without games? I happen to detest games.”

  “Too bad,” she purred. “I highly enjoy them.” She trailed one soft finger
down my cheek to my chin. It had been a long while since anyone had touched me. I swallowed hard but managed to keep any emotion buried deep.

  I only raised an eyebrow in warning. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh fine, don’t be any fun.”

  I chuckled.

  “I desire power, Morgorth.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Not just power that I can get naturally. But real power. Power that would rival the Mother.”

  I frowned. “Considering that mages get their power from the Mother, I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do.” The playful light in her eyes was gone. In them was a dark determination, a zealot’s spirit. I’d seen that darkness before, in my own eyes. She leaned closer, her face inches from mine as her hand slid over my waist. My heart pounded against my ribs even as I grabbed her arm to push her away. But my body, deprived of physical intimacy with another creature for so long, had other plans. I still gripped her arm, but I didn’t push her away.

  “You have power, Morgorth,” she said softly. “And you will gain more. Seventh son of a seventh son.” My grip on her arm tightened but she never flinched. Her gaze burned into mine. “Fear is power. Fear that others give you makes you great. But there are other kinds of power, one in particular that the first mages gifted Karishian so very long ago.”

  “The stones,” I whispered.

  She slithered over me, pushing me on my back. I gripped her hips even as she kept her hands pressed against my shoulders. “Yes, Dark Mage. The Pferun Dulleriin. The most coveted items in the Mother’s universe. Just imagine what power a mage could hold if they found all of them? The forces they could control and submit to their will?”

  She moved her hips against my already hard groin. My fingers dug unto her skin but she didn’t stop and the friction was making me harder, draining the blood from my brain.

  “The Mother rules, Drenna,” I whispered harshly.