Balancer (Advent Mage Cycle)

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Authors: Honor Raconteur

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BOOK: Balancer (Advent Mage Cycle)
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Balancer

Book Four of the Advent Mage Cycle

 

 

 

By Honor Raconteur

 

 

 

 

Raconteur House, Tennessee

 

 

 

 

 

It is not what we think or feel that makes us who we are; it is what we do—or fail to do.

-
Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue
5

 

Chapter One: Dismantling
23

 

Chapter Two: Reconnaissance
31

 

Chapter Three: Allies
42

 

Chapter Four: Darlington
54

 

Chapter Five: Dom and Domess
66

 

Chapter Six: Allington
80

 

Chapter Seven: Jarrell
97

 

Chapter Eight: Clues
108

 

Chapter Nine: Teamwork
128

 

Chapter Ten: Breadcrumbs
145

 

Chapter Eleven: Legends
161

 

Chapter Twelve: Sigils
176

 

Chapter Thirteen: Planning
197

 

Chapter Fourteen: Surprises
213

 

Chapter Fifteen: The Best Laid Plans
231

 

Chapter Sixteen: Barrier
245

 

Chapter Seventeen: A Fallen Order
254

 

Chapter Eighteen: Aftermath
274

 

Chapter Nineteen: Best Intentions
283

 

Chapter Twenty: Responsibility
289

 

Chapter Twenty-One: Plans
314

 

Chapter Twenty-Two: Consequences
330

 

Chapter Twenty-Three: More Planning
337

 

Chapter Twenty-Four: Plans that Go Awry
347

 

Chapter Twenty-Five: Inheritance
369

 

Chapter Twenty-Six: Academy
389

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Wedding
403

 

Epilogue
413

 

Prologue

 

I had an eerie sense of déjà vu as I sat in Guin’s office. The whole team arrayed in various seats, almost identical to the time when I had first met them a year and a half ago.

We had just brought back an Elemental Mage, Lonjaroden, and a young Wizard by the name of Waetomlinen to Del’Hain when we were informed that Guin wanted to talk to us. Naturally, we went directly to him. It had been a good three months since we were last in Del’Hain, so practically anything could have happened and we wouldn’t have known it. I admit, I went to Guin’s personal study with some trepidation. Could anyone blame me? I only got called in to talk to him if something had gone very wrong and I had to fix it, or if he was assigning me some sort of monstrous task.

Guin greeted us calmly as we filed in, but didn’t say anything until we were all seated. He leaned against the edge of his desk and studied each person in turn. I sat on a couch next to Chatta, looked up into my King’s face, and tried to decipher the complicated expression he wore.

“When I gave you the impossible mission to find Chahiran magicians over a year ago,” he finally started with a wry smile, “I had no idea how successful you’d be. You’ve brought me 62 magicians including these last two. I am amazed at what you’ve done. Thank you. But I think the time has come to release you from this duty. I have been in close consultation with Vonlorisen and we both agree that the common citizens of Chahir pose no real threat to magicians anymore. The real threat is the devout members of the Star Order and the renegade Priests.”

He turned to look directly at Xiaolang. “Captain, while I am releasing you from any duty in this regard, Vonlorisen does want to hire you on. He wants your expertise in fighting blood magic. Will you go back to Chahir?”

Xiaolang blew out a long breath, looking at each member of his team while he did so. Each person smiled and nodded to him in agreement. By the time he reached Eagle, Xiaolang had a soft smile as well. “I think we all feel that we’d be leaving a job half-done if we went home now. Yes, Your Majesty, we will go back. What about you, Shad?”

Shad cocked his head to the side, his palms going up and down like a balancing scale, as if he were literally weighing his options. “Hmm, beat up on raw recruits or chase down renegades…I have to admit, chasing down renegades sounds like more fun. I think I’ll tag along. Garth, Chatta?”

Chatta and I shared a look before she drawled, “While all of you get the option, I don’t think we do. Am I right sire?”

“I didn’t really get the option either,” he stated with a roll of the eyes. “Vonlorisen informed me that he made Garth his magical advisor, so he automatically has to go back, and I know good and well that were he goes you’ll follow. I admit that I’m pleased that this team will stay intact. I can trust that you’ll deal with this situation admirably.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Vonlorisen expects you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Well.” Xiaolang rose to his feet. “It sounds like we have our marching orders.”

~*~

Xiaolang, being the wise and compassionate man that he was, gave me enough time to hunt down Chatta’s father and talk to him. We did, after all, have the rest of the day before we had to seriously start preparing to go back to Chahir. By earth path I could get us there within half a day, so it gave me a brief window of opportunity. Considering the chaotic state of Chahir, I didn’t know when I would get another such chance.

So I sent a message to Delheart saying that I needed to have a private conference with him, cleaned up as well as I could, and prayed to the guardians that this worked out well.

Delheart sent a message in return that he was free right now and to come when I wished. Despite my jittery nerves, I left my palace apartment immediately and went straight to his townhouse. I wasn’t sure if it was to my advantage or detriment that I simply didn’t have the time to waste on being nervous.

I really wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. Delheart didn’t intimidate me anymore—or at least
not much.
We’d been around each other and worked together often enough that I finally felt comfortable with him. But that didn’t mean I was comfortable going to this very powerful Lord and asking him to release me from the protection oath I had given him.
Why?
he’ll ask. The only possible answer that I could give him was the truth: “
Because I’m in love with your daughter and that oath is keeping my hands tied behind my back.”

Hardly the kind of answer a protective father wanted to hear.

I couldn’t put this off any longer, however. For one thing, we were both busy people—it might be months before we were in the same location again. For another, Chatta had
no
patience, and at this point,
no
sense of humor. I had done this to myself—well, to both of us, really. I felt like I had to be a little patient in unraveling this knot I’d made. Chatta didn’t see it that way. She was constantly chaffing at the restrictions my oath placed on me, and I wasn’t sure who she was most frustrated with, me or her father.

I’d discovered something recently. It was impossible for a man to be happy when the love of his life was
un
happy. A wise man would deal with the problem, whatever it might be, as quickly as possible.

Which was why I stood in front of Lon Delheart’s chambers, rehearsing my speech in my head.

I’d faced bandits, floods, earthquakes, angry lords, soldiers, an insane Fire Mage, a sulky nreesce who can read my mind, and a bored Didi, which is more dangerous than everything else combined. Surely I could survive this too.

Gathering my courage, I raised my hand and knocked on the heavy paneled door.

A tense moment ticked by before the door opened. An elderly man in the Delheart livery stood there. I’d seen him before, several times, but his name escaped me at the moment. “Good evening. Is Lon Delheart in?”

“He is Magus, and expecting you. Please come in.”

I did, trying not to appear like a condemned man walking to his own execution.

I was escorted to a formal sitting parlor, filled with elegant furniture designed more for looks than for comfort. Pictures of pleasantly done landscapes took up every possible inch of the walls. In this season, the fireplace in the room hadn’t been lit and the two windows in the room were open to let in a soft breeze and warm sunlight. Delheart sat in one of the chairs reading a book, but at my entrance he laid it aside and rose to greet me.

“Good evening, Garth.”

“Good evening,” I returned evenly, fighting to keep anxiety out of my voice.

He silently gestured me into a chair, which I took, but could not relax in. Nerves kept tension locked into my shoulders.

He apparently picked up on it because there was a subtle tone of suspicion in his voice when he ventured, “You seem to have something on your mind.”

This was hardly a social call, so I wasn’t going to pretend it was. “Yes, I do. I came here to ask you to release me from the Oath of Protection I gave you—” I held up a hand to halt his immediate protest “—so that I may offer you a different oath instead.”

He tensed in turn, still suspicious and studied my every facial twitch through narrowed eyes. “What oath might that be?”

I took in a deep breath. Let it out again. Here goes. “The Oath of Promise.”

He knew just enough about Chahiran culture to understand what I was asking. “Garth, not four months ago you assured me that you were nothing more than friends with Chatta, and now you’re telling me that you want to
marry my daughter?

“Yes.” I looked him straight in the eyes. There was no point in beating around the bush.

He had to know that would be the answer, but actually hearing it still made him scowl. “And when did this change?” he demanded.

It seemed like a decade ago, but when I added it up in my head, I was startled to realize it was only a few months. “Roughly three months ago.”

“I trust that the oath you gave me checked your actions.”

“Yes, it did.” Much to your daughter’s frustrations, I charitably refrained from saying out loud. Besides, I doubted it would help my case.

“It can continue to keep doing so.” Delheart’s jaw set in a stubborn line, a line I recognized from seeing it on Chatta’s face.

I sympathized. If I had a daughter like Chatta, and some young upstart had approached me like I was him, I would undoubtedly have the same reaction. Still… “I’m afraid that’s not the correct answer.”

“You’re not going to break your word.” He was smugly confident about that.

“I won’t have to,” I pointed out with a calmness I did not entirely feel. “Chatta is well aware of the oath that I gave you. If I fail to gain your permission to release me, she’ll hound you until you cave.”

“You’re so confident that will work?”

I couldn’t help but smile now. “Yes. If the past two years have taught me anything, it’s this: Whatever Chatta wants, Chatta gets. I’m sure you know this better than I do.”

The sour look on his face conveyed intimate knowledge of the phenomena.

I leaned slightly forward, keeping my eyes locked on his. “I know that I’m not what you want for her. I’m not a titled Lord, or wealthy enough to make up for that. I’m a Chahiran Mage, an exile, who is torn between obeying King Guin, King Vonlorisen, or the Trasdee Evondit Orra. But I think you know that none of that matters to her.”

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