Curse of the Celts

by Clara O'Connor

  “You were able to do something in the borderlands?” Callum asked.

  I paused, recalling the strange, distorted energy that had come to me as the hound stalked ever closer.

  “It wouldn’t come at first; there wasn’t anything there. I thought maybe the drug I was given in the city might still be blocking me. Then when it came it felt different to how I’ve felt before.” I tried to answer as best I could, inner caution preventing me from giving him too much detail. “The borderlands, Samhain… Devyn said it makes magic unstable…”

  Callum nodded, but his frown indicated he was dissatisfied with my answer.

  “You were right on top of the May ley line; it has been corrupted by the wars,” he explained. “It was stable for you? You could control it?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know that I’ve ever really controlled it. I don’t usually intend to use magic… It just happens.” I drew a shuddering breath to try and ease the tightness in my chest and looked to Devyn to help explain.

  Callum watched me look to Devyn for answers, and his frown deepened.

  “You did well to summon anything in the borderlands, but it sounds like you’ve been lucky so far,” he observed. “Do you know what it is to properly summon magic?”

  I sat still in my chair, my fork halfway to my mouth. Thinking back, I wasn’t sure I had ever formally summoned magic. It had just happened somehow, either when I wasn’t focused or when I was all too focused on an imminent threat. The only time I did anything on purpose was asking Otho for help, but was that me wielding magic or the ash providing the aid sought? I had never stopped to think about how to call the magic to me; it just was. I dropped my fork back onto my plate, my appetite for the delicious pie disappearing. I had no control over the force that flowed through me; it came and went at its own whim, and it could not be relied upon, like everything else in my life. What if the next time my luck ran out?

  “You’ll stay a while. Your friend needs to gather his strength before you go anywhere. I’ll teach you some of the basics. See if we can’t get you started a little better,” Callum decreed, though he waited for Devyn’s nod before flashing his trademark grin, his white teeth flashing in the candlelight.

  “The hounds of Samhain. It’s a long time since anyone has reported seeing them. They’re attracted by the scent of power, a power that has run ever thinner. There’s not much that tempts them out on a hunt these days. What were you doing in the woods last night that attracted their attention and kept them coming for you despite being injured?”

  There was silence at the table as we took this in. Magic was waning amongst the Britons. What would the council do if they had that information? It was the threat of the magic wielded by the Britons that kept our societies separate, that prevented the Empire from using its superior firepower and technology to dominate this island.

  “This is no small matter. They have your scent now. How much power did you use to attract their attention and bring them to our plane?”

  I looked to Marcus who had paused in eating too but kept his head down. I wasn’t sure what to do; Devyn had barely spoken since we arrived, and Marcus was scarcely recognisable. His gaunt, shrunken appearance showed the toll the last few days had taken on him – his father’s death, depleting every last drop of his power in his desperation to try to heal those spirits, and then being hunted through the forest. As he met my eyes, his were vacant but he shrugged, giving his consent that I should tell the tale.

  “It was Marcus. There were these people, so many of them… all showing signs of the same illness that’s been sweeping the city. Marcus is a doctor. He’s had some success in healing people, but he uses magic to do so. It comes from within him, and he knows he isn’t supposed to go beyond a certain level; he knows he can only save a small number. Out there in the woods, there were so many, and Marcus kept trying to save them, one after another. He used a lot of power, more than he should have. That’s how he got burned out,” I explained.

  “I see, but when they came, Marcus was a dried-up husk. You’re the one that was the juicy bone, the one they’ll be back for. I can’t do much for him till he gets some energy back. Let’s work with what you have and make sure you know how to give ’em a kicking they won’t soon forget should they be foolish enough to return.” Callum surveyed the table and, leaning across, heaped seconds onto our plates. “Now, eat up; you’ll need your strength.”

  After breakfast the next morning, I followed Callum through the halls of the college, relieved to find my handfast tether to Marcus had extended to a greater distance now we were beyond the unstable border ley line. We wound our way through a labyrinth of stone passageways, some small and narrow, some wide and littered with portraits of stern men and women, no doubt professors and deans of generations past. Some wore elaborate Celtic dress while others were in simpler, more modern garb; most were distinctly Briton in style but occasionally we passed one with more exotic robes and colouring. In Londinium, people came from all over the Empire, which was why Devyn’s darker skin fitted in so easily, but these people wore culturally rich clothing, indicating that they were from outside the Empire – Africans and Americans, though some dressed vaguely in the imperial style. I wondered if they might be people like Devyn’s mother, people who fled persecution at home to live outside the reach of the Empire.

  Our feet echoed on the flagstone – or rather mine did. Why did it seem like I was always the loudest person in the vicinity out here in the Wilds? Everyone walked like ghosts, barely making a sound. I supposed that, living in the city, I had grown up accustomed to the basic comfort of my own safety; even down in the stews I had never had to fear being attacked… Pestered by beggars maybe, but there was never any real danger that someone there would assault an elite. In the city, the danger wasn’t being heard but being seen by the ever-present cameras. The same was not true out here in lands where it still held that the best insurance of one’s safety seemed to be to tread lightly and carry a big stick.

  Finally, we arrived in a courtyard. It was large and surrounded by stone walls with small casement windows higher up. The yard itself was divided up into quarters, each with its own unique characteristic. There was a large oak tree in the centre.

  “Each section of this courtyard represents one of the four elements of which magic is made up,” Callum explained. “They are here to help you connect to them and train, but first we need to find out which of them you hold an affinity with.”

  I glanced up at the windows, uncomfortable at the thought that others might be watching.

  Callum caught me at it and correctly interpreted my nervousness.

  “Oh, don’t worry about the windows; those are the halls of residence, and most everyone has gone home for the festivities.”

  “What festivities?”

  “What festivities? What do they teach you behind those big walls? Don’t you know anything about the people with whom you share this island?”

  “Yes,” I snapped back. “I know that it’s Samhain and that the dead can cross over.”

  Which, admittedly, was fairly recently acquired knowledge.

  “I can see that this might be pertinent information to someone crossing the borderlands, but it’s a great deal more than that. It is the harvest festival. After all the work has been done and the fires are lit for the winter, there are bonfires and dancing and feasting. The beloved dead are invited to dine, and people disguise themselves from the dead who come with evil intent.”

  So maybe I knew hardly anything. At least it explained why the halls were so deserted. As long as no one but Callum was going to be watching me make a complete and utter fool of myself… I hated this, hated not being able to do anything well. I had striven my whole life to be perfect at everything, to do well at school, to have appropriate friends, to look good, to be deserving. To be worthy of my parents, of my betrothed, of everything I – outwardly at least – fitted into so beautifully while all the time feeling like a fraud. I had never felt enti
rely worthy or right in the life I was walking through. Now I knew why: that path hadn’t been mine. Even the sodding shoes hadn’t been mine. Too loud, too unaware of the world. I just needed to figure out how to walk in this one, besides being simply quieter.

  “As I was telling you before, there are four elements: earth, water, air and fire. Each section helps you focus and hone the one that is your core element. Latents who display magic tend to have an affinity for only one or two, and usually it manifests as a very particular skill. For example, the city lights are tended by a woman with a small ability with fire and some air, but she has little skill beyond that.” Callum led me over to the quadrant closest to us. It contained rocks of various sizes dotted around, from small pebbles to large boulders. “Let’s see how you fare.”

  I picked up a smooth pebble and ran my thumb across it. Despite the coolness of the morning, it already retained some heat from the sun. I trailed my fingers across the considerable boulder that stood upright in the centre of the section, the white and pale-green lichen indicating that it had stood there for a long time.

  “What now?” I asked, turning back to Callum.

  “Breathe in. Focus. Centre yourself. You need to reach out and pull in the energy from below. There are currents deep down in the earth, streams of power that flow across the planet, all interconnecting with each other, and feeding the earth above, enriching it with life-giving power. Can you feel it? Let it come to you, absorb it into yourself.” His voice was low, calming. “Relax, be at one. The breeze lifts you, the current carries you, the earth holds you and fire lights the way. Be at one. Repeat it with me.”

  Devyn said the same words to me in the cell in the arena. It wasn’t the best association, but together we repeated it until I felt my body relax and grow calm. I wasn’t sure I could feel any of this power he was talking about but I tried to do as he said. I felt a vague tingle, but nothing like the surge I felt in times of danger. But it was something.

  “I’d like you to raise one of these stones off the ground.”

  “Right…” I put the small pebble on the ground. I tried to lift it, I really did. Or at least, I stared at it and sort of repeated over and over in my head that I wanted it to lift off the ground.

  Nothing happened.

  Callum shrugged. “Maybe not earth then. Let’s try to do something with the water. Nothing too taxing, maybe just get it moving.”

  I focused on the pool of water in the second quadrant, again commanding it to move. Or to do something. No result; not even a ripple bothered the surface of the still water. We were there for what felt like for ever as Callum talked me through the techniques of how to command magic. He instructed me to breathe in and out, using the chant to focus. Sometimes I could feel something – a hum – but it seemed to draw energy from me rather than supply it.

  I was exhausted when we finally sat down for our meal at the end of the second day. I could barely drag myself to the table. My eyes were practically closed as I mechanically lifted the much-needed food into my mouth. I felt as though I hadn’t eaten in weeks. Trying to do magic was much harder than actually doing it. I had brought a storm down on Richmond without breaking a sweat; attempting to lift feathers and light candles, on the other hand, left me wiped out. Attempting being the operative word. I still had very little success in using whatever magic pulsed through my veins.

  Finishing my plate, I reached out to scoop up seconds only to discover the three men had barely touched their own plates and were instead watching me devour my dinner in amusement.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” Devyn’s lips were quirked in a half smile, and Callum was smothering what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. I scowled down at my plate.

  “I’m hungry,” I declared. They had a fair point. I had inhaled the food so fast it had barely touched my throat because I had been in such a hurry for it to reach my belly. I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll wait for you lot to catch up, shall I?”

  Even Marcus smiled at my barely contained dismay at having to civilise my eating style. Marcus had slept away most of the last two days, but he finally looked more like his old self. I sat dumbly, trying to think of a way to ask him if he was better without sounding like he should be better. His father had died and it was going to take more than a few days’ sleep to recover from that, but it looked like he had recovered from depleting his power at least.

  “Time to get you up and about, young fella.” Callum’s attention had also fallen on Marcus’s revived form.

  Marcus was slow to acknowledge the suggestion. It was too soon; he would quickly become exhausted once more if he joined in the training to which Callum was subjecting me. Not that he needed it. Marcus knew what he was doing; he already consciously used his magic.

  “No, no.” Callum saw that Marcus, like me, had assumed that he would be joining me. “You don’t need to be using your magic yet, and you could do with a bit more rest. I’ve never seen anyone drain themselves like you did, boy. No, if you’re going to empty yourself out like that, you need to be able to defend yourself by other means. I’m sure you didn’t have too much call for fighting off man nor beastie in the city. Ain’t so out here. You need to be able to hold your ground with or without magic. Devyn here can get you started with some sword skills.”

  “Swords?” Marcus’s mouth twisted in disdain at the mention of the primitive weapons.

  “Aye, swords. That’s what you’ll face out here. Even your legions train with swords. They know they can’t always rely on tech. As you saw on Samhain the most basic mechanisms can fail you out here. Sharp pointy objects tend to be much more reliable.”

  “Right.”

  Devyn had gone still. He was closed off to me, increasingly so since we arrived in Oxford, but anyone could see he wasn’t jumping at the idea. But neither had he outright refused. Devyn and Marcus hadn’t spent much time together, certainly not alone, and neither seemed to be champing at the bit to do so now.

  Callum picked up on the new tension in the room, his broad smile appearing.

  “It’ll be good for you boys to have a bit of a knockabout.”

  That was what I was afraid of.

  The next day, the two of them took off together while Callum and I headed back to that sodding courtyard.

  Chapter Eight

  “Why don’t we take a break for a minute?” Callum’s voice was patient despite the frustration I knew he was feeling too; we had been at this for days and I hadn’t been able to command even the tiniest fraction of magic that I pulled into myself. “Maybe it would be easier if we knew a little bit more about each other, build up a bit of trust, eh?

  “What’s the point?” I asked peevishly. “In a few days we’ll leave here, and I’ll never see you again.”

  I would never see anyone again. I uprooted my life for some stupid Celt who was blocking me out, my parents had disowned me, I ruined the life of the man I was about to marry and, I paused in dismay, now I couldn’t even do the thing that was the reason for all that and command a bit of damned magic.

  “Life is long, little girl,” Callum admonished me gently. For a big man, he never seemed to raise his voice or speak too loudly. He was at all times even-tempered, an erudite scholar in the body of a bear.

  I exhaled, pushing myself to my feet and walking across the well-worn rug to the window in the wide stone wall. I curled up on the polished window seat looking out across the warm stone of the city in the red light of the setting sun to the forest we had barely escaped. We had escaped though; we had made it and were still alive. I drew in a deep breath.

  “You knew Devyn when he was a child,” I prompted quietly, half turning back into the room and lifting my chin long enough to see Callum’s raised eyebrow and half-smile. Damn. I wasn’t supposed to show interest in Devyn.

  “That’s not really a question about me, but yes, I knew Devyn as a boy. I was a tutor to him and –” his hesitation was slight “– his friend. Mischievous boys the
y were, always up to devilment. Clever too, the pair of them. Always competing, pushing each other, but as likely to impress their tutor with frogs in his pockets as heed their lessons.”

  I smiled. I could see Devyn as a child getting up to no good and I had caught glimpses of the humour and restlessness that would have led a little boy into naughtiness.

  “Once, I came on the pair of them having built a bridge across the goose pond. They were sending across his cousin, a little girl, to test the sturdiness of the bridge before they put themselves in danger. Oh, the uproar when her mother saw her darling daughter covered head to toe in mud.” Callum chuckled at the memory.

  “And when they were older?” I asked, curious about what Devyn had been like before I met him – or at least before he had taken up residence at the periphery of my life.

  Callum sobered, the laughter washing out of his face. “Well, they weren’t such good friends anymore… not like that.” He looked away into the past, his dark eyes sombre in memory. “He’s told you why he was in the city? What happened when he was a boy?”

  I nodded casually.

  “After what happened, Devyn didn’t talk much, or at all really, for years after. Gods help him, I don’t know that anyone much cared. With her ladyship lost, the light was gone out of our hearts, and the sight of him just made it darker. The other boys pushed him about a bit, and he took it – not the way for any boy to survive in a castle full of warriors.”

  “What about his friend? Didn’t he help him?” I was horrified. It hadn’t been Devyn’s fault. His father was the one who had failed to protect my mother; Devyn had only been a child. A child who had watched as a lady he loved was killed, and the baby he adored was also ripped away.

  “No, his friend didn’t raise a hand against him, but he didn’t help him either. I saw him watch as other boys – older boys – punched and kicked Devyn on a daily basis. He said and did nothing.”