Mage- The Ancient's Might

by S A Edwards

  I gritted my teeth. Not the time. Not now.

  Siren’s frustration softened. He moved to sit beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. His warm, vanilla odour mixed with the floral scent of the sheets, and I leaned into him, letting him envelope me in his heat.

  I could relax because giving up wasn’t an option.

  One more sleep, and we could leave. One more sleep, and I’d be back on the road to Charlie. The evil Charlie, sure, but still Charlie. One way or another, there had to be a way to save him. If there was, I’d find it, and the first step was releasing the Keepers.

  44

  The boat bobbed on the lake beside the dock. The silver liquid rippled up the sides and poured like a fountain from the bow back into the lake.

  The heat made my cheeks flush. Unable to control it anymore, I retreated a step, gritting my teeth against the fear rising within me. All it took was one slip. Assuming I wasn’t cooked alive, of course. A shiver of fear brought sweat to my brow.

  “Do we have to take the boat?” I asked.

  Della smiled. “It is perfectly safe, I assure you.”

  “You flew us in here,” I said.

  “The circumstances were dire.”

  I fidgeted with my sleeve, wishing I’d chosen a short-sleeved shirt instead.

  Siren took my hand. “I’ll be with you again.”

  “With no gifts. If something goes wrong, there’s no grabbing me and flying off this time. Maybe we should wait. It’s been two days. Your gifts have to return soon. Then, we can fly.” I shot him a nervous smile.

  “The boat is fine.” He dropped in, remaining steady despite its rocking, and offered me his hand.

  Della touched my shoulder. Her cheeks remained pale and flawless under the early morning light. No sign of discomfort showed from the heat, but then, it was her heat. It wouldn’t bother her. I would bet she could fall in and still be unharmed. “I know you fear,” she said. “Don’t. Mortals are no less powerful than Mage, and even then, you are no mere Mortal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You came to this land with eight gifts. That’s more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  “Yes, well. They’re gone now.”

  “Yet, you can read the book, understand the Ancient language. There is more to you than is apparent,” she said.

  “So you say. Though what good am I without my gifts? All I can do is read. That’s hardly going to save the land.”

  Della frowned.

  “Thank you, though,” I said, “for rescuing us at the expanse. If you hadn’t …” If she hadn’t I’d probably be dead. Siren would be mindlessly obeying Rickson and Kyne, giving them every access to the hidden magic he possesses. And Chimera? He’d have been destroyed by the Hellions. After all, how many times can he return from the dead?

  I took Siren’s outstretched hand and stepped inside the boat. The silver along the side bubbled, and I staggered.

  Siren’s grip on me tightened. He didn’t let go, even after I sat down. His grip comforted me.

  I twisted to Chimera, still standing on the dock. The Peacekeepers stroked his long, ebony fur, their blue-jewelled cloaks glistening with their movements. When I met his eye, he shrugged away from them, padded over, and slipped between Siren and me.

  The vessel rocked again, and I slid on the smooth seat. My heart lurched, but miraculously, the boat didn’t capsize.

  Della winked at me. Of course, she was responsible. Perhaps she would watch us the whole way across, just to be sure.

  I hoped so.

  “Be safe,” she said. “We wish you the best of blessings.”

  I struggled to smile, wishing others were going with us. I’d feel far safer with the power of other Ancients around us. Maybe even Amicus. But Della had explained their need of them for patrols to keep the Hellions at bay, to try to keep the villages safe. And with Prudens’ concern over Siren being near the lake, he was reluctant to send anyone else.

  The boat slid gently away from the edge and through the golden arch laced with the symbol of the Ancients on the sides.

  Della remained on the dock, unmoving.

  With the warmth of the lake and Chimera’s curled body, sweat clung to my back and dampened my palms. I breathed deeply, desperate to reach the other side.

  Siren sat in silence, forehead glistening, and stared at the bank ahead.

  Time passed slowly. I understood why people avoided the beautiful Might. The Ancients were the least of their problems, especially for those who weren’t Refiners. The temperature alone would repel anyone. My skin burned and prickled, and a heatwave rippled above the glistening silver, making it hard to breathe. I flexed my fingers, longing for my Refiner gift to make the heat bearable.

  Finally, we reached the grass on the other side.

  Chimera leapt out before I could sigh in relief and shook himself vigorously. His ears flapped against his head, and a musky scent drifted from his body.

  Siren stepped out next, offering his hand to me once more.

  I stood, wobbling, and subtly wiped my palms along my trousers before taking his hand. The rippling side of the vessel came very close to my inner thigh when I stepped out, sending my heart into a sprint, but thankfully, it didn’t touch it.

  I dipped into my pack, digging past the book for my flask, and drank deeply. The water was warm, hardly a surprise, but it quenched my dry mouth.

  Before drinking my fill, I tucked it away. The water would have to be saved. I couldn’t draw it from nature anymore and had no idea how far we were to the nearest river. Dehydration had never been an issue before. The thought of it now only increased my feelings of weakness. I would miss the delicious taste of Healer-clean water, the feeling of invigoration. Although, if Siren’s gifts would only return, he could refill my flask for me.

  “Any sign of those gifts coming back?” I asked.

  He shook his head and set off across the grass.

  “You’ve barely spoken since this morning,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  He cast me a pointed look. “You shouldn’t be taking this risk. There should be another way.”

  “I can handle the Daemon.” I hadn’t been able to convince Prudens to give me anything for a counter-offer. This time, I had nothing. Only what he would ask. But what that would entail was a mystery and an easy sacrifice. I held nothing of value. Except the book.

  My steps staggered with the thought. Would he ask for that? No. It wasn’t mine to give. I had borrowed it from the Might. I’d have to return it eventually. Right?

  “I’m not speaking of the Daemon,” Siren said. “The Herron will catch you long before you reach Omen.”

  “No. We’re going to find Hanrel. He’ll help us.” Although, the thought of returning so close to the expanse troubled me. Especially with Kyne there, too. Unless he remained in the centre by the Gate. He was, after all, surrounded by Hellions. Even with Rickson’s fluff, there had to be too many to control all at once.

  Siren’s eyes darkened.

  Chimera trotted beside me, panting heavily.

  “Have you something against Hanrel?” I asked.

  Siren waved a hand, dismissing the question. “I have a bad feeling about this. Only, I just can’t …” Frustration covered his features. “I can’t remember.”

  “Maybe you’re not supposed to. Maybe when you’re born, you’re supposed to learn like the rest of us.”

  “I know something isn’t right. If the Herron catch Hanrel, they’ll drown him. And they’ll change you.”

  “They won’t. The book said –”

  “I know what the book said.” He sighed. “But something still feels off.”

  “Prudens agrees with me.”

  “Prudens knows of no other way.” He whirled on me. “Didn’t you notice he refused to give you an Ancient Healer? Whether he admits it or not, he knows something is wrong, too.”

  “Won’t he be listening to us now?” I asked. He couldn’t shut him out without his ma
gic.

  “Let him listen.” Siren arched his hands in the air. “Let them all listen. He’s putting you in danger. For what?”

  “To protect the land. The people. To release the Keepers.”

  “And he’s risking your life.”

  “He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t believe it could be done,” I said.

  “Oh, he believes something.” He turned again and continued on.

  I followed after him. “What do you mean? Siren? What are you talking about?”

  He paused by a boulder where the land began to dip and stared out over the forest. The trees broke in the distance, revealing a shimmering, blue lake. It mirrored the rising sun, a distorting, churning version of its true beauty. Herron territory?

  “He believes you can do it,” Siren muttered. “The book does not lie. But assuming you do succeed, at what cost?” He shot me a dark look. “What will you have to pay to make your deal?”

  “I thought you said I wouldn’t get to Omen.”

  “Oh, you’ll get there. But again, at what cost?”

  He glowered over the view, leaving me to puzzle over his words in silence.

  Chimera nudged my arm.

  “Come on.” I pushed past him and trudged down the slope.

  Liquid silver laced the cracks in the hill, radiating warmth, and Della’s lake dipped out of view beyond the hilltop.

  My legs stung at the sharp decline. Loose rocks slid beneath my feet and rolled down the slope. It took all my attention not to slip and follow their trail to the bottom.

  Chimera stayed close to me, nudging me each time I slowed.

  Siren’s breathing grew a little heavier, though nothing like my own. He reminded me of Amicus and the ease in which he climbed the hill.

  At long last, we reached the bottom, and I collapsed on the ground by a towering, maple tree.

  Siren peered down at me, and after a minute of consideration, sat down nearby.

  I dug out my flask again and drained the rest of the water. Healer or not, I needed it.

  “Here.” Siren reached out with his own.

  “You have it,” I said.

  “You need it more. We’ll fill up at the river.”

  “There’s one close by?” I took his flask and finished it without waiting for an answer.

  His lips twitched like he was holding in a smile. “We’ll reach it in about an hour. Hellions permitting, of course.”

  My attention jolted at his words. Of course. They were loose now. What would happen if we ran into one? Without our gifts, we were powerless against them.

  Chimera growled.

  Siren’s gaze snapped toward the forest, and he clambered to his feet.

  I edged closer to Chimera. “What is it?”

  He responded with another growl, hackles raised.

  Could he protect us from a Hellion? Most certainly, it would kill him, but would he come back this time? Memories of the giant creatures with sharp, black eyes, and the monster with root-like tentacles that swallowed Mage whole entered my mind.

  Something cracked. The sound sent my heart into a sprint, and then a figure emerged around a clump of bushes.

  45

  Tunic and trousers coated in dirt, Hanrel drank deeply from a flask.

  “Hanrel!” I rushed to the old Healer, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Woah, now. Easy.” He staggered. “I’m an old man, you know.”

  I giggled and stepped back. “Sorry. I thought you were a Hellion.”

  “Aye. There’s plenty of those about. Though I doubt I’m quite as scary as one of those.” He surveyed me closely. “There’s pain buried in you.”

  Grief plucked at my hope, but I pushed it back. “Buried?”

  He nodded. “A Healer’s been at you, suppressed the grief. Why is there grief?” Judging by the look on his face, he already knew the answer.

  I swallowed, unwilling to say the words aloud.

  He bowed his head. “I’m sorry, lass.”

  I forced a shrug. “Time ran out.”

  His eyes narrowed. “But there’s more than that. Your sorrow doesn’t just cover his loss.”

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “I need you to know it because I need your help, but we have to keep moving. Are there more of you? What are you doing here?”

  “I had a dream. Aye, it sounds weird, but there it is. Some Ancient, he said he was, said I needed to come to the Might cause you needed me.”

  “Joseph,” Siren murmured. “Dreamgiver.”

  Hanrel slapped his hands against his legs and a hint of relief crossed his face. “Oh, good. I hoped I wasn’t going mad.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m here. What’s this all about?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said again. “If you’re willing to help, I can explain on the way, but there’s no time to lose.”

  “I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” he said. “Clearly something went wrong at the expanse. I saw the Ancient carrying you and your beast away. Wasted no time in leaving myself. I assume I’m here to help fix that?”

  I nodded.

  “Then explain, because I can’t see how much use an old fella like me could be.”

  Siren leaned against a trunk, his expression sullen.

  “Can you lead?” I asked him. “I don’t know the way.”

  He pushed off without a word and headed farther into the forest.

  Hanrel blinked. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He doesn’t like this. Thinks it’s too dangerous.”

  “Well, I’d give my opinion, but …”

  I smiled and followed after Siren.

  Time passed in relative peace, the silence only broken by my retelling of the previous few days. A grave seriousness overcame Hanrel from the moment I revealed the Keepers’ capture, yet he didn’t interrupt. The only part I withheld mention of was the book. For some reason, I felt it should remain a secret, that it was special, somehow.

  Finally, I fell quiet, pleased that I’d managed to hold back the tears. This wasn’t the time for sorrow. Besides, I hadn’t lost hope yet. Though, maybe the suppression of my grief had more to do with my control than I realised.

  Hanrel frowned. “I’m willing to help you, lass, but I agree with him. The Daemon isn’t one to be merciful. A deal isn’t wise.”

  “A deal is the only chance we have.”

  I stopped short at the sound of trickling water. Between a particularly wild patch of weeds, Riparians lined a river bank, their fresh scent duller than usual.

  I missed the sharpness of each odour that had accompanied my Beast gift, the striking colours, the enhanced hearing. With my power, I’d have sensed the water’s presence ages ago. Despite Siren’s vulnerability, his presence comforted me. As a Healer himself, at least I wouldn’t miss the water and die of thirst.

  Chimera bounded into the flow. Water sprayed the bank and glistened on his fur. He stopped halfway across and lapped it up with his long tongue.

  I dropped my pack on the grass and followed him, embracing the biting chill when water seeped through my trousers. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and I shivered in the delightful temperature. Then realisation hit. Without my gifts, I’d remain soaked. Hiking in wet clothes wasn’t good for anyone. Unless Hanrel helped me. I gritted my teeth, hating the need to rely on others.

  I scooped up the water, ready to drink, but it jolted from my hands, leaving my palms dry.

  Hanrel smiled, water twisting in a ball before him. “Surely, you haven’t forgotten the importance of a Healer’s touch?”

  “I’m going to have to get used to normal water. I can’t cleanse it now.”

  He shook his head, directed the ball into a flask, and offered it to me. “Tainted water will do you no good. Not with what lies ahead. You need your strength.”

  I accepted the flask with a twinge of bitterness. I wasn’t just useless, unable to prepare my own water, I was fully dependant on the Mage around me. Being a Mortal felt worse than I remembered. These problems weren�
��t really problems back in my village before my gifts activated. It was hard to believe that was less than a year ago. So much had happened.

  I drank, grateful for the nourishing invigoration of his magic, and then gave it back, my question running through my mind. “You said my grief is suppressed?”

  He nodded.

  “You must be mistaken,” I said. “I still feel it.”

  “It can’t be removed completely, but it can be silenced. Only a very powerful Healer can do as much.” He turned a disapproving eye on Siren. “One of your lot, I assume?”

  Siren stood knee-deep beside the bank and frowned at Hanrel’s tone, though his gaze settled on me. “The pain would have destroyed you.”

  “She has a right to feel it,” Hanrel argued. “To get past it.”

  “Past the loss of her brother? Her gifts? Past the knowledge of all the people who died for her cause, that could have been prevented had she left this land from the start?”

  Guilt stabbed within me, and I staggered back. I hadn’t thought of it like that. People died. Hellions killed them. All because I refused to leave. To save Charlie. And I had failed. Did Siren blame me for their deaths? Did others? Because now, I did.

  “She will never move on without the grief,” Hanrel said. “Without –”

  “I have grief.” I glared at them. “I’m well aware of the pain I’ve caused. The deaths. The people suffering. I never meant for this to happen. All I wanted was …” Tears welled, but I pushed them away. “I don’t want to feel the pain. All I want is to put this right. To release the Keepers. So, instead of bickering, start working together, or this whole thing is pointless.” I stormed past them and clambered back on to the bank.

  Siren reached me just as I pulled my pack back over my shoulder.