Advent (Advent Mage Cycle)
Advent
Book Three of the Advent Mage Cycle
By Honor Raconteur
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to my editor, Katie, for sticking with me through all of the re-writes and sounding board sessions. She drove me crazy, but it was mutual – I drove her crazy too! Thanks go to Gwen, who did such an amazing turnaround in proofing this copy.
Thanks as well to the usual suspects – my mother, Jane; Pam, Ken and my brother, Jarrett. You know I’d be lost without all of your advice and support.
Last (but never least) a big shout out to all of my fans that attempted to blackmail/bribe/beg me into an early release. It might not have been in your hands as fast as you wanted it, but this proves the rewrites and the head-banging was all worth it!
Table of Contents
Chapter Eight: The Unexpected
130
Chapter Nine: Premonition Answered
143
Chapter Eleven: Unexpected Surprises
182
Chapter Twelve: Dangerous Magic
205
Chapter Thirteen: Queens and Pawns
227
Chapter Fourteen: To Be a Mage
245
Chapter Seventeen: Recovering
279
Chapter One: Heritage
Drip, drip, drip.
I eyed the icicle hanging from the roof with mixed emotions. The snow was melting, which meant spring was hovering on the horizon, tensed to pounce the moment that winter let its guard down. When that happened, it meant that the team would be going back into Chahir to search for magicians again.
It would also mean that I was out of Guin’s immediate reach.
Right now, I wasn’t sure which one I preferred.
In the four months that I had been home I had gotten very little rest. Because of the thick snows covering the roads I was one of the few magicians that could travel around the country. The fact that I was faster than more conventional methods was just an added bonus. And if the situation demanded skills other than mine? Well, then I got to take whatever Witch or Wizard that needed to go somewhere by way of the earth path. Most days, I wasn’t sure if I was coming or going. I hadn’t had time to shop for a house, much less use any of my vacation time!
Night definitely has a point. Being accessible to Guin is not conducive to a peaceful lifestyle.
This was one of those rare moments when I was home—not in my own apartment at the Palace, but at my parent’s house—without an emergency hanging over my head.
“Garth!” my mother’s voice called from the front door. “There’s a message for you!”
I eyed the back door, only feet away from me, and judged whether or not I could make it outside before she could catch me. On this wooden floor, I couldn’t jump into the earth path like I wanted to. However, once outside I could disappear in the earth and
no one
could find me there.…
“It’s not from Guin,” she added, voice rich with amusement.
What, the woman reads minds now? But if it wasn’t from Guin, who was it from? My stomach had no real desire to leave the warm, fragrant air of the kitchen. The rest of me ignored my greedy stomach. Curiosity compelled me out of my chair and away from my breakfast, into the front room. “Whose seal is on it?”
“There’s no seal,” she denied as she handed it over.
Actually, there was. She just didn’t recognize it as such. There was a complicated braid of silver string, black leather, and rich mahogany hair wrapped around the parchment. I recognized it instantly.
“This is Roha of Del’s braid.” Now why would she be contacting me in the dead of winter? She often sent letters inquiring about how Trev’nor was doing, but not during the months where it was nearly impossible to get letters through. And I had just sent her a long letter about Trev’nor three months ago…
“The Tonkawacon woman that raised Trev’nor?” Mom stared at the letter in my hands with renewed interest. “This must be very important for her to send a letter in winter.”
Very important or very dire. I didn’t say that aloud. I knew better than to try and unravel that braid—it was more likely that I’d tangle my own fingers attempting it—so I used my belt knife to just cut it off. The parchment was a bit wet at one corner, but as I unrolled it I was relieved to find nothing smudged or illegible.
Garth,
I received your last letter. Thank you for telling this old woman what her adopted son has gotten into. I can tell he is adjusting fine.
A year ago when I gave him to you, I had not expected to find anyone to properly train the boy. There is much that I still have, things that belonged to his parents that I’ve kept over the years. While you are in Hain come see me. I wish to tell you what little I know of the boy’s parentage and history. Your last letter indicated that bloodlines of Mages are very important. I have some evidence of what Trev’nor’s heritage is.
I wish I could be more specific, but they are in Chahirese, and that is not a language I can read. But I trust that you can, eh? Travel toward the Boren Mountains, just northwest of Jward, and you’ll find our camp.
Bring Trev’nor with you. I want to see the rascal.
Roha of Del
I felt like my breath had been knocked out of me. Trev’nor was Chahiran? Or at least, all the evidence pointed in that direction… I lowered the letter so that I could look at my mother’s face. “I need to go to Roha of Del as quickly as possible.”
She went taut, alarmed. “Is something wrong?”
“Important,” I corrected. “She never told me that she has Trev’nor’s parent’s effects. She knows a little about his heritage. We’ve always wondered what nationality Trev’nor is—it never occurred to me that Roha knew it and just hadn’t mentioned it.”
“Did she tell you in the letter?”
“She made reference to it. Apparently, something his parents had was written in Chahirese.”
Her green eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I always suspected he was, considering his looks.”
I shook my head, frustrated because I knew that she wasn’t catching the full nuance of that statement. “Mom, the only Chahiran Mages that were Earth Mages are of the Rheben bloodline.” The Index we found in Chahir four months ago had confirmed that fact.
Her mouth soundlessly dropped. “Good heavens,” she breathed. “Then Trev’nor…”
“Is related to us somehow, if Roha is right, and that language
is
Chahirese.”
“Go saddle Night,” she ordered abruptly. “I’ll pack a bag for you. I think you need to leave right now.”
“I agree completely.” I rolled the letter back up and stuck it in my pocket as I quickly made my way to the back door. My thick winter coat hung on a peg just inside the door, which I snagged and slipped into as I made my way into the snow-covered back yard. Night was not in his stall next to my father’s workshop, but rubbing his forehead against the porch railing. Trying to scratch an itch, I guessed. From the hoof prints on the ground, he’d obviously been spending his time roaming around the small yard looking for things to nibble on. “Night, we need to go.”
“
Not another assignment from Guin!”
he wailed in protest.
“We just got home yesterday.”
“Not that,” I disagreed. “I just got a letter from Roha of Del.”
He gave me an odd look.
“In the dead of winter?”
“It was a very important letter. She knows something of Trev’nor’s parents.”
Night abandoned his scratching altogether, standing alert. “
That’s pretty important information. Did she tell you?”
“No, not really. But she did say that she thinks he’s Chahiran.”
“But the only Earth Mages are…”
he trailed off, ears pricked.
“I know. I think we need to get up there quickly. I want answers and I want them now. Let me throw a saddle on you, and then we’ll go get Trev.”
Night held perfectly still while I quickly strapped his saddle on. Mom strode into the yard, pale gray dress flapping around her ankles. She threw my very worn saddlebags on and tied them into place for me.
“How long do you expect to be gone?” Mom asked as I heaved myself onto Night’s back.
“Probably a few weeks. Trev’nor will want to properly visit with everyone while we’re there.” And this way, I can
finally
get a proper break.
“All right. Take care. You too, Night.”
Night rubbed against her cheek in an affectionate gesture that almost knocked my mother right on her rear in the snow. “
Bye, Jaylan.”
Catching her balance on the edge of the stall, she laughed and waved us away, hair glowing golden in the sun.
Night took us directly to the Palace grounds and the small wing that housed Allan and Liah Gaines, Trev’nor’s adopted parents. Giving him to that couple had been one of the best decisions ever made. They both adored Trev’nor, and were very tolerant of all the Tonkawacon quirks he had. The first morning Liah woke up with two braids in her hair, she hadn’t even blinked. Allan told me that she just started laughing, claiming that she had half-expected to gain braids at some point. Allan was grateful his hair was too short to braid anything into. I noticed that he kept his hair that short, not tempting fate.
Night twisted his head to look at me as I slid off his back.
“In the essence of time, why don’t I go tell Haben where we’re going while you get Trev’nor? You know that Liah will pump you for information first.”
“So will Haben,” I responded ruefully. “It’s a good idea, Night. Go for it. I’ll meet you here?”
“
Sure.
” With a flick of his tail, he turned and headed back toward the main building.
I’d barely knocked when Liah opened the door. She was in the brown uniform of the Jaunten, so I assumed that she was either heading for or just coming back from doing something official.
“Garth, this is a nice surprise.”
“Hello, Liah. May I come in?”
“Of course, of course.” She stepped back to give me room to enter. “Your timing is quite good, actually. Trev’nor has been pestering me about you. He’s been feeling neglected.”
“I hope he realizes that’s Guin’s fault?”
Laughing brown eyes belied her serious nod. “Yes, they’ve had many serious discussions about it.”
Yes, I bet they’ve had. A shame I’ve missed them; that was sure to be priceless. I rubbed at my lips to erase a growing smile. “Is that so. Hm.”
“So are you here to kidnap him for a while?”
“It’s a bit more serious than that,” I warned her. “I just received a letter from Roha of Del, you see, and—”
Trev’nor’s bedroom door jerked open and a small, delighted face popped into view.
“Garth!”
“Hey, scamp.” I bent slightly, catching him as he threw himself into my arms with a patented Trev’nor Tackle. I barely had him seated in my arms before he was demanding, “How long are you home?”
“Not long,” I admitted, trying not to smile as instant disappointment flooded his face, tugging his mouth downward and drawing his eyebrows into a deep furrow. “But
this
time, you’re coming with me.”
His disappointment instantly morphed into a brilliant smile. “Really? Where are we going?”