Death Comes To All (Book 1) (39 page)

By
the time he had finished, the fire had died down to little more than
coals, giving off little light. He considered adding another log or
two and stoking it up again, but decided against it. He no longer
needed its light, after all, and the room was already too warm as it
was.

The
only thing adding more wood to the fire would do is make things even
less bearable.

Instead
he went back downstairs to join his friends in the living room. He
found this room to be a little too warm as well, though the fire had
already burned low. Unlike his room upstairs, this room was alive
with light. The same bright lamps that had been lit before, four on
each side of the room, kept the room quite bright.

Raine
sprawled on the couch, her feet draped over one of the arms, idly
munching away on a piece of the pork Raiste had cooked. She didn't
seem to be greatly interested in the meat, but was instead just
enjoying the taste, snacking. Trick still sat behind her, curled up
in a ball, apparently sleeping.

Raiste
lounged on one of the chairs reading a book. The cover of the book
was flat black, with small lettering edged in what appeared to be
gold. The print was too small for Bane to make out. The assassin
looked up from his reading and gestured to a chair nearby, bidding
Bane to sit.

"I've
been reading through some of the histories pertaining to battle mages
in the past. You would find some of this quite interesting, I think.
Unfortunately, nothing I've read so far was written by the mages
themselves, but was instead written by others sometime later. I think
some of it might help you. For instance, I was just reading a story
about a battle mage named Lance, they don't have a last name for him,
who could supposedly use any weapon instinctively when he used his
power. Here there's another who can, using his power, hit a target
the size of a coin at a hundred yards away with a long bow. I haven't
found anything yet on someone who can draw an attacking spell into
their weapon and then recast it yet though. I know that somewhere
I’ve heard a story about that power, but so far I haven’t
found any actual accounts of it. As far as I can tell you're the
first to have that magic."

"Where
did you get a book on magic out here?" Bane asked. "Do you
have other books hidden away somewhere?"

"There
is actually," Raiste answered with a wolfish grin. "There's
an entire library in one of the other rooms. It didn't have any books
on magic in it originally, but I've added to the collection over the
years. Some of the books were ones I remembered reading during my
childhood and had taken an interest in. Others were just books I
thought I might have need of someday, such as this book on magical
histories. It's not as useful as I thought it might be, not really.
While it does give references to some of the abilities that mages
have had, it doesn't tell us anything about how they controlled their
power. Only a handful of the stories talk about battle mages. There's
really nothing here that's going to help you I'm afraid, at least
nothing I've found so far."

"You
had already told me that would probably be the case, so I'm not
concerned. When I used my power it seemed to just appear. Maybe I
have to be in that type of danger for my magic to work."

"I
don't think that's the case," Raiste replied, setting the book
down on the small table that sat between their chairs. "Certainly
it seems that it was that type of extreme situation that first
brought it out, but a mage should be able to control their magic at
will, invoking it any time they wish. I see no reason why it should
be any different with you. In fact, if you couldn't control your
magic it could become a liability. If you can't rely on your magic to
work when you need it to, it's useless."

"That
would make sense I guess. Still, there are plenty of people who don't
have magic, and they get along just fine."

"True,
but they don't have one of the most powerful mages in the world
hunting them either," Raiste reminded him. "I'm sorry I had
to get you involved in this, but now that you are there's nothing
that can be done about it. Besides, you're a battle mage. Eventually
your magic would have come out, and then you would have been hunted
anyway. The mages will want you either working for them or dead. With
our skill and your magic, we have a chance at getting out of this
alive. If we're real lucky we might even find a way to fight back
against them. First, we have to find a way for you to control your
magic, and we need to know exactly what you can do with it. Tell me
everything you can remember about what was going on when you used
your magic during that battle. Even if it seems unimportant, tell me
about it anyway."

"I've
already told you everything. One of the soldiers moved to attack me,
and suddenly I was surrounded with that blue light. You said you
could see it too, the light I mean. There's nothing that happened
that I haven't told you about."

"Well,
I'm sure we'll figure it out eventually. It's not something we need
to figure out right away. We have all winter. There won't be any time
to work on it over the next few days. We'll be too busy storing what
food we can get to last us through the winter. Just give it some
thought while you're working. I'm sure that there's something we're
missing, I just don't have any clue what it might be."

"Where
are those books at?" Bane asked. "I might as well relax,
and I've never really read anything just for my own amusement. Maybe
I can find something that might catch my interest."

"From
the main hall, it's the second door along the back wall," he
answered. "You'll have to take a lamp with you. There are a
couple of lamps in there, but none of them are filled at the moment.
Just be careful with the flame in there. Many of those books could be
from the original owners of this building. At the very least they've
been here for centuries. Some of the older ones are in poor
condition, so please be careful with them. There are even some that
are made of a similar material to the sheets that were covering the
furniture. They don't seem to have any damage at all. I can't say for
certain, but I suspect that they could have come from the time before
the Mage War, during the Age of Technology."

Bane
walked to the room his friend had suggested, pulling the lamp next to
the door off its post and taking it with him on his way out of the
living room. He had never actually heard of a library before, but had
gleaned enough information from his conversation with Raiste to guess
what he had meant. Even knowing that the man kept his books there, it
did nothing to prepare him for the reality of what he found.

The
room was huge, at least as large as the living room, and was packed
from wall to wall with books. Bane would never have suspected that so
many books could even exist in one place.

There
must be thousands of different books in here,
he thought, his
eyes widening in amazement as he looked around.

He
glanced at the titles along the spines of various books, avoiding the
books that looked too old to handle safely. He quickly realized that
he had no idea what order these books might have been in, or if there
was any order to them at all.

"The
books directly in front of you are non-fiction books, books filled
with information or true history. You can learn about nearly anything
you want to know from them," Raiste informed him from the
doorway.

Bane
hadn't heard him coming.
The man is as silent as a cat when he
wants to be.

"If
you're more interested in fiction, collections of made up stories,
there's a pretty decent selection over against that wall there,"
he continued, pointing to where he indicated. "Are you
interested in learning something, or just something to pass the time?
I can recommend a few things for you either way."

Bane
decided on a fiction story, and Raiste pulled a few selections off of
the shelves that he thought the young man might like. Bane had never
read a fiction story before. He had never thought that someone would
take the time to write such a thing. He had heard a tale told by a
story teller in the town near his farm once before, however, and
suspected that these made up stories here must be similar to that.

He
picked up a book called A Tale of Two Cities out of the books his
friend had suggested. Opening to the first page, he glanced at the
words written there.

'It
was the best of times. It was the worst of times.'

Here’s
a man who can’t make up his mind,
Bane thought, promptly
closing the book.
Maybe I’ll come back to this one sometime
later,
he decided.

Instead
he settled on a book called Arabian Nights. From what he could tell
from a quick inspection, it appeared to be a collection of short
stories, linked together under the premise that a slave woman told
them night after night, so that her owner wouldn’t have her
killed.

Even
if one of the stories isn’t that interesting, I won’t
have to read long before it goes into another, possibly more
interesting tale. It should be worth giving it a chance at least,
he decided.

He
took the book into the living room and, after depositing the oil lamp
back in the holder on the wall he had taken it from, fell into one of
the chairs. Raine appeared to have fallen asleep on the couch where
she had been lounging. Trick, who had been on the top of the couch
behind her when he had left the room, was nowhere in sight.

Likely
the dragonling had flown up into the rafters somewhere. The creature
seemed to like high places. Raiste had already returned to the chair
where he had been sitting previously, pouring over the book on magic
he had been reading.

After
he had read for perhaps an hour, he finally had to put the book down.
His eyes were already starting to droop. He had nearly dropped the
book more than once when he had come close to falling asleep. He
looked over at Raiste, who was still reading his magical history with
intense concentration.

How
does Raiste continue reading after so long without tiring,
Bane
wondered.

"What
is the watch rotation going to be tonight?" He asked. Raiste was
so engrossed in his book he had to be asked a second time before he
finally looked up from his reading.

"I'm
sorry, what was that?"

"I
was just wondering what the order of the watch was tonight?"
Bane repeated. "I'm guessing you're taking first watch; you're
still reading after all. I'm ready to fall asleep now, and Raine is
already out. I can take second watch or third, doesn't matter to me.
Did the two of you talk about it earlier?"

"We
don't need to have a watch posted in here," Raiste answered with
a light chuckle. "If someone finds this place, they'll have to
get in first. They won't make it through the door without us hearing
them. I've already locked it from the inside. If they break out a
window instead of going through the door, we'll still hear them. We
should be safe enough. Besides, if they find this place, I'm not sure
if there's anywhere in the world that we'll be safe."

Bane
shrugged. The assassin was far better at these sorts of things than
he was. He had no reason not to trust the man's judgment. He left the
book on the table and headed for the door.

"You
might as well wake up Raine before you leave," Raiste said
before he reached it. "If she stays down here tonight, she'll be
impossible in the morning. She'll be a little grumpy if you wake her
up now, but she'll be better off after a good night's rest in a bed.
Just be careful waking her."

Bane
knew exactly what Raiste meant. The last time he had to wake her she
nearly took his head off. He cautiously prodded her foot, staying
just out of kicking distance.

She
woke groggily, shaking her head for a moment. Suddenly she was on her
feet, apparently searching for a weapon. "What's wrong? Are we
under attack?" she asked Bane, seeing him first.

"All's
well," Raiste assured her from his position on the chair. "I
just thought you would rather spend the night in a comfortable bed
instead of on the couch, so I had Bane wake you. It might be easier
for you to hunt tomorrow if you're not sore from sleeping in a bad
position. Sorry if we startled you." His wolfish grin, however,
told a different story than the words he spoke.

He’s
not really sorry at all. Not in the slightest.

For
a brief instance, Raine looked as if she was going to hurtle a wicked
retort at Raiste, or hurtle whatever might be handy for that matter,
but then seemed to decide against it. Instead, she simply stood
without a single word and headed through door.

Bane
hurried to catch up with her. He didn't want her angry at him for
what seemed to be a joke that Raiste was playing on her. He caught up
with her just as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Wait,
Raine. Sorry if what I did angered you," Bane said sincerely.
"Raiste told me I should wake you up, and his reasons seemed
good. I didn't know that he was playing some sort prank on you. I
just don't want you to be angry with me."

She
stopped in her tracks, pausing a second before turning to face him.
"I'm not. He wasn't wrong either. I should be sleeping in a bed
instead of on the couch. It doesn't mean I have to like waking up.
Don't worry about it. You haven't done anything wrong."