Lives of Magic (Seven Wanderers Trilogy) (3 page)

“Y
ou’re wrong,” I told him immediately, but Kian only sighed.

“It is no coincidence that magic is dead in this world and yet you have it deep inside of you,” he told me. “You were once a great magician. A warrior in our tribe. That soul resides in you. You have heard of ancient lands and people?” he asked. “Your history?”

I nodded, lying, and wondering what he was driving at. I never paid attention in history class.

“You have probably not heard
this
.” Kian sat back and crossed his legs in front of him. He continued looking at me in an eerily imploring way, and I had no choice but to listen to his story some more.

“In my land,” Kian began, “we lived in a place where the roots of time were deep beneath our feet. We walked the same soil as our ancestors, and their ancestors, and their gods. We were so intertwined with our past that some of our tribe still retained the magical strengths of their forebears.”

Okay, not so bad.

“We had a good king, and he had noble warriors,” Kian went on. “They were gifted and formed a group of men and women who had powers greater than any man could hope for. Some people said they were descended from the gods and had inherited their unique traits.”

Kian smiled to himself as if recalling a happier time, perhaps when he wasn’t keeping a teenager hostage in a shack in the woods. When he looked up he seemed to remember I was watching him.

“They could do incredible things,” he explained as if trying to convince me. “In that time, magicians were known to exist. They were not common, but they were certainly real.”

It was getting weirder than I had anticipated. The tale of why I needed rescuing was very detailed for a crazy man. But I was determined to listen to his story. If I could find holes in his logic, maybe he would let me go. And I wanted to find out what that movie thing was that seemed to have come out of my own eyes. As if reading my thoughts, Kian explained.

“What you just saw was a glimpse of that life,” he said. “I have very limited magic, and I can only unlock some of the reflections of memories you already have inside of you, but that was your past.”

He sighed and scuffed his foot on the ground, as if telling the story pained him. I almost felt bad for him, and then I remembered I was being held captive, and his story was sounding crazy.

Stockholm syndrome,
I chastised myself.

“Our tribe, however, was besieged. This was two thousand years ago,” he said.

Red flag
, my mind warned.
He’s definitely crazy.

His tone implied talking about two thousand years ago was as normal as talking about the neighbourhood dog.

“We were fighting a neighbouring kingdom that had three very powerful magicians,” Kian continued. “They were using the earth against us. They had enough power between them to roll the hills beneath our feet and dry the earth for our harvest. They washed the salt water of the sea over our people and many were lost. Our own gifted warriors were fighting them, but then another problem arose.”

Kian looked to see if I was following then went on. “At our borders, another type of beast was trying to break in. The Romans had come and had waged a war against our people, in a land where they had no business. We had very little gold or silver, no roads — none of the things they admired. But we had a love for our way of life and that was why we fought them. While the Roman machine was nearly at our doorstep, the magicians in the north were growing stronger. They shook the earth and brought ice and snow crashing over entire villages, and there were not enough children of the gods to stop them.”

A vivid picture had manifested itself in my mind. A snowy landscape, narrow mountain passes, shaking earth, terrified people. The sound of marching Romans echoed in my ears, and a panic I had never known until that day filled my heart. A thought seeped in slowly — I had never even watched the History Channel.

“Against all odds, our warriors braved the spells cast by the magicians and captured their tribe,” Kian said. “But they were too late. The magicians had sensed a losing war and had done what no man had dared before.”

His tone had gone hushed and the gravity of the situation pressed on me like a weight on my chest.

“What happened?” I asked.

“They cast a spell on their own souls,” Kian whispered. “The three magicians were found dead. But a strong magic had stolen their souls and sent them forward in time to where they could be reborn to try their plot again.”

“What?”

I should have guessed that when Kian had first mentioned anything to do with magic, anything else was possible in his story. He must have been expecting my bafflement, since he seemed to have an answer ready.

“There is a magic,” he explained, “that can capture your soul and keep it intact into your next life. Your memories, and more importantly your magic, are all locked away under the surface. It is called metempsychosis in this century, but for us it is an ancient ritual. In myths, the gods used it to live forever.”

He paused to make sure the information had sunk in.

My clothes were now nearly dry thanks to the warm fire, and the pain of my ravine wounds was coming back at full strength. Lying on the chairs was beginning to be very uncomfortable, but Kian’s presence and story enveloped me like a blanket.

I lay listening, his words filling my head with images I had never seen before. My logical mind told me to run. A strange rebelliousness I was not accustomed to wanted me to stay. It wanted to see that life again, and to feel magic.

“The three magicians had cast a spell to send themselves forward in time, where they would attempt to take over our lands once more.” Kian’s smile had turned into a wince. “We were naïve,” he said bitterly, “thinking they had skipped a few years into time and would attempt to claim our small kingdom. We could never have known how large the world would become.

“Our good king was torn by the decision he had to make. The Roman power was at our door, and his warriors could now gather strength to defeat them. But if the warriors risked themselves in the war against the Romans, then there was no protection for the tribe in the future when the magicians would return in their next lives.”

“What did he do?” I asked. It seemed like a lose-lose situation.

“The king was selfless and decided that surrendering to the Romans might be better than being defenceless against the magicians when they returned to their full power in the future. He asked his most prized warriors to complete their duty by performing the ultimate sacrifice.”

“What?”

“Dying.”

I gasped despite myself. Small strings of comprehension were making connections in my mind. The noise of thoughts resulting from Kian’s story was so loud that I fought to think clearly.

“They were sacrificed in a ritual. It was a terrible solution,” Kian continued. “But their souls were cast in magic and sent forward. Nothing but faith promised that they would land in the same time as the wicked magicians, but our warriors were servants of our king, and they did as he asked.”

I inhaled deeply, trying to settle my nerves. It was calming, but the smell of the green goo filled my nostrils and I could not avoid facing my situation. Then I realized I was getting a bad case of the crazies if I believed Kian’s story. Why was he telling me this?

“The magicians have arrived in this time,” Kian told me, the stern look settling over his face once more. “Though ahead of you. And they seek power.” He spat the words. “They are the one final challenge for our king’s warriors.”

I nodded. Okay. Fair enough.

“The Romans invaded, taking everything,” Kian said, “and destroying the magicians now will be the only way to make the king’s sacrifice worthwhile.”

He scuffed his foot again.

“So …” I tried to make sense of his ramblings. “You think I’m an ancient warrior…” The word felt foreign in my mouth. “… that can fight some … evil … magicians?” It sounded ridiculous. How could he not think it sounded ridiculous?

“No,” Kian answered, and I exhaled in relief, thinking he was going to say something saner. “I need you to run away with me so that I can keep them from gaining the power they need.”

So much for that theory.

“They
can
destroy this world in the effort to capture it.” Kian reached over and gripped my hands while he said this. It was like he was pleading with me, but I had no idea how to help him. “If they get your magic before you are strong enough to defend yourself against them, then all is lost.”

The panic rose again in my chest and into my throat. Fear washed over me and I thought I would vomit. I couldn’t help but feel like his emotions were bleeding into me through his hands, and I wanted nothing more than to retreat.

“What does this have to do with me?” I asked, trying to be calm. I was clamping my jaw shut, afraid of being sick. My main thought was to get out of this cabin and leave Kian behind with his supernatural problems.

“There’s no reason to keep me here,” I told him, trying my luck.

Kian slumped down again. The emotions that played out on his porcelain face were at the same time varying and muted. I tried desperately to read him, but it was impossible. The statuesque face was solid and set.

“The king was a great man, Gwen,” Kian told me, trying to persuade me, as if I had disagreed with him. “He risked everything to save a future he knew nothing of.”

When I clearly wasn’t getting his point, a look of sadness floated across his face. He obviously had thought he was making some progress with me. His forehead crumpled up into a frown and his voice took on a new sense of urgency. I couldn’t help but feel like I had disappointed him — even in my situation, lying in some shed in the middle of the forest, covered in goo and probably broken in several places.

Kian could tell I was getting distracted. “You
are
one of those warriors, Gwen. We had no way of knowing how far into the future you would be carried, but the magicians are here. And you need to run. Recover your memories and gain your strength before they destroy you.”

Now the air definitely did stop dead in my throat and I stared blankly at him. I could not believe I was hearing this correctly. The threads of understanding in my mind tied themselves into a neat bow as Kian’s story and my involvement were made official.

“You have all been scattered. Born into new places and homes some seventeen years ago,” Kian explained. “You began new lives, but it is my responsibility to remind you of who you are, and why you were sent here. You have been reminded, your memories have become unleashed, and you have no choice now.”

The stubborn set to his jaw told me he wouldn’t back down. My logical mind took over and I slowly started to understand. Kian, mysterious, handsome, and absolutely crazy, thought he was on a mission to collect magical warriors from the past who were sent ahead in time so that magicians would not take over the Earth. He was so convinced of this that he had managed to get me to listen to all of this without trying to escape once. He was good. But like I mentioned, I had seen too many crime shows.

Things were getting too delusional for me. I sat up slowly, in case he tried to stop me.

“No,” I said sternly. “Not me. You’ve got the wrong girl. Sorry.”

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” he said, sounding truly disappointed.

I felt an undeserved guilt and willed it away. My strength seemed to be coming back to me exponentially, and now that I was sitting, I was panicking. Was this what an adrenaline rush felt like? I assumed being able to sit up was equal to being able to run, and I eyed the door as my temper rose. I had probably missed the first day of school by now.

A feeling that I can only describe as an itch settled over me — I had to leave. Now.

“You thought I wouldn’t believe you when you told me that I’m some kind of magical warrior sent forward in time to stop world-destroying magicians?” I said, perhaps more snippily than required. If Kian noticed the sarcasm, he didn’t comment on it. I tried to grip the chairs to steady myself but couldn’t because my hands were covered in that green goo.

“And what is this?” I asked. I was getting frantic and fed up with the entire situation. The stuff was all over me. Kian did not seem dangerous, at least not now, and I was getting braver.

“Avocado,” Kian answered simply, “and some other ingredients.” He hadn’t moved, even with all my fidgeting.

“You made me into a human chip dip?”

Now that I look back on it, it was probably not the time to be focussed on this. I had just been told that everything in my life was leading up to this moment and that I was in danger. But I was covered in avocado.

Kian’s calm demeanour was making me seem like the crazy one, trying to wipe as much of the guacamole off of me as possible.

“Avocado is a miracle vegetable. I was only able to discover it recently, but since then have found its potential in healing remarkable,” he said plainly, seeming unconcerned that I was trying to leave.

“I —” I stammered, unable to reply.

He was calm and still and it drove me crazy. I just wanted to go home, and the urge to do so swept over me like an uncontrollable craze. I was tired, hungry, and sore. All I wanted was a shower and my own bed. For the moment, I forcefully pushed all thoughts of magicians, world destruction, and magical powers to the back of my mind.

Eventually, I was able to wobble onto my feet and slip into my boots, which were waiting by the door. I expected Kian to try to stop me, but he sat and watched my struggle to move after the long fall down the hill.

“You have been reminded, Gwen,” Kian said, still cross-legged on the floor. He was covered in bits of avocado pulp from when I tried to clean the goo off myself. “The process has begun. Restoration of your memories and powers will not stop.”

I was already outside the shack, but I turned around one last time. “Avocado is a fruit!” I yelled and slammed the door.

I
stumbled through the forest for only a few feet, blinking in the late afternoon light. Late afternoon! I still couldn’t believe my luck at being able to get away, and the fact that Kian had let me go made me all the more paranoid. Was he after me? The thought kept my feet moving and my heart pounding.

I imagined my parents had already put out a missing person’s report on me. I didn’t want to think about explaining my appearance and blowing off school on the first day. But as I stumbled a little further, dark thoughts sinking my already sunk mood, I suddenly realized where I was.

Just through the trees in front of me was a little house with an add-on in the back.
VETERINARIAN
, it said.

“Ha!” I barked one small bit of laughter and the noise scared some birds out of the trees. The shack I was held prisoner in had been in my own backyard.

I suddenly stopped and swallowed hard. Kian was still hiding there. My mind raced.
Call the police. Run. Get out of here.

No
, a voice said in my head. I was shocked to hear it was my own. I supposed he hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, he had saved me from drowning and didn’t keep me against my will. A blanket of comfort wrapped itself around my mind, easing my worries, and I forgot about asking for help. In fact, I forgot all about Kian being so close.

The hoarse noise that had escaped my throat had gotten some attention inside the house. A window opened from the vet clinic and my mom popped her head out. I had never been so happy to see that round, curly-haired woman in my life.

“Gwen?” she called, squinting in the fading light. Her eyes widened when she finally saw me. “Good heavens! What
happened
to you?”

She grimaced when she saw that I was covered in green slime. My clothes hid most of my injuries.

I didn’t have the energy to respond. Instead I trotted to the house, the several yards between the shack and my new home making all the difference in the world. My clothes caught on leaves and my wet-and-dried rain boots were leaving blisters on my feet, but I didn’t care. I ran through the short bit of woods and right into the house.

My mom was already at the door when I ran up. Luckily for me, most of my appearance was hidden in the dusk of the evening.

“How was school? Goodness, did you run into something?” she asked me. I tried to slink around her in the darkness to avoid more questions. No one had called from the school. I had been lucky.

“School was … good,” I improvised. “I fell in the mud, Mom. No worries.”

I was almost at the stairs.

“You sound absolutely beat,” my mother called. “Where were you?” I rolled my eyes while taking the stairs in twos. If she only knew.…

“Tired. Going to bed,” I called back, wincing at the small amount of information I was actually giving. As I turned into the hall I set our burglar alarm. My mother raised her eyebrows at me and I shrugged, trying to get away as fast as possible.

I remembered Kian’s neat little suitcase, all shiny and new. He did not have the appearance of one who lives in the forest. I briefly tried to convince myself that he had in fact left my yard. After all, there was no reason for him to stay.

At the top of the stairs, I waited to see if there were any more questions from my mother. Breathing heavily, more due to stress than to stairs, I listened for any restless-mother signs. Luckily, a cat in the vet clinic began to howl and my mom rushed off, muttering something about teenagers.

Now I felt absolutely awful. I hadn’t gone to school and made friends. Instead, I had been chased down by Kian, a lunatic I was drawn to empathize with. I had lied to and avoided my mom, and I was pretty sure I had just tracked avocado all up the stairs and against the walls too.

I sighed so heavily that I thought my chest was going to collapse into itself.

My parents were battling with the angry cat downstairs. Their voices came muffled through the old floorboards of the house. Somehow I felt safer, and as I walked towards the shower I began to peel off my clothes.

Wincing and in pain, I eventually managed and climbed in. Naturally, the water ran green within seconds. I stood for ages, thinking about my day and at the same time pushing everything Kian had told me out of my mind.

I couldn’t explain how I had done what I did. I met the Pacific and I sat on top of it. I had seen images play in front of my eyes. I shook my head with the wonder of it all. But out of all things, I was most confused about Kian.

He was eerily handsome and calm. I remembered how he had carried me off the water, walking on top like it was ice. Slinging me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing. He radiated warmth, but his face was cool, unreadable. He had told me I was special.

I opened my eyes in shock as I realized that I wanted to believe him. I pressed my palms against the shower walls to steady myself. He must have drugged me. His story was so unbelievable and fantastic. I watched the water drip off of my eyelashes as I stood there, thinking about the possibility of being extraordinary.

Suddenly my ears popped like water had flooded them. The sensation was painful and I covered them with my hands on reflex. But then my eyes started to smart and I squinted until spots appeared in my vision. Confused, vulnerable, and being pelted by the suddenly freezing water, I started to shake. Reaching for the temperature knob, I groped at something that felt like rock. My ears were now thundering and I chanced opening my eyes.

I was standing under a torrent of water, but I was no longer in my shower. To my surprise, and extreme fear, the water pouring over my head was icy cold and heavy, as if it fell from a great height. It made my breath catch in my throat. I swallowed some water in shock — it was cool and fresh, unlike anything I had tasted before.

My feet ached and I realized I was standing on stones, round ones that shifted every so often with the weight of the water. The thundering in my ears had been these waterfalls.

There was no doubt about it. I was not in my house anymore, not safe in my shower. I noticed I still lacked any clothing at all, and suddenly felt that much more exposed. Goosebumps covered my arms as I raised them to my eyes, trying to clear my vision and see my surroundings for the first time.

Unexpectedly, the first thing I saw through the water was another person. Blurry, but definitely there, someone was approaching me. I gasped and choked on a lungful of water. Collapsing, struggling for air, I grabbed a hold of my shower curtain and pulled it down with me.

After another coughing fit, I stood up at home again, in my own shower, clutching at my torn shower curtain. The water was spilling out onto the floor where my avocado-stained clothes still lay.

I sat for a minute, doing nothing, thinking nothing. I could only stare, gasping a little bit. My heart was pounding wildly, and despite myself, the only mystery I could think of was who that shadow had been coming towards me. I had not felt afraid … I couldn’t put a name on how I felt, standing in the freezing water. It was as if I rode in someone else’s body.

I remembered Kian’s words. He told me that whatever memories I had would not stop. I briefly considered believing his story but decided against it. If such a thing existed in the world, there was no way I could be a part of it.

I climbed out of the shower and threw my clothes in after me. Some items were torn beyond repair, but I thought I’d rinse out as much avocado as possible to avoid more questions.

Surveying myself in the mirror as the steam filled up the bathroom, I knew whatever vision I had just had was due to a possible concussion. I was obviously confused and disoriented. My body was like a bad tie-dye: all yellows and reds that would soon turn into blues and purples. I washed the blood off the bigger scrapes on my arms and legs, but my torso was still covered in bruises. The pain was such a constant throb that I could not tell where it was coming from.

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t keep my mind off what I had seen. My body was in agony, to such an extent that I had debated asking my mother to buy a few avocados when a handful of Tylenols hadn’t helped. I was sure some ribs were fractured if not broken, since lying on my back and breathing at the same time was excruciating. But distractions from the pain floated around my mind.

A waterfall … it was so real! I could feel the uneven rocks underneath my feet, the strain on my neck as the water poured down on top of my head, the cold rush through my body and into my bones! There had been someone else there.…

I had spent a large part of the evening thinking about what I had felt as I saw that figure. It was the strangest feeling. I was terrified, panicked … but that seemed like only one mind. It was the mind that was attached to everything around me in Oregon: my room, my parents, and my ordinary surroundings. But in that moment I had felt a second mind, one that was calm, confident, and absolutely overjoyed at seeing that figure through the haze of water. Was that love?

For an embarrassingly long time, I lay in bed, closing and opening my eyes. I was hoping to reignite whatever had made me see that other place. I wanted to go back, explore. The need to see that place again and experience those feelings grew in my chest and ate away at me. Scared, I noted that something inside me had awakened — something wild and uncontrollable that longed to get control.

I was wading through a creek. The cold water went up to my waist and I wearily scanned the riverbanks on either side of me. I towed a small, round, floating thing behind me. It was only big enough for one and looked as if it was a giant shield turned on its front. I knew someone would track me sooner or later, but I wanted some time before getting discovered.

I picked my way carefully along the rocks in the river and avoided the middle due to the strong current. I was worried about being seen. Frightened of the consequences. Very aware of the fact that I was unarmed, I tried to make as little noise as possible.

Suddenly, in the distance, the bushes on my right rattled slightly. I hugged the riverbank and tried to tuck myself into its side, hiding. A hand reached out for me from the bushes. I gasped but my panic turned to exhilaration in a heartbeat. I knew that hand. I loved that hand. Overjoyed, I grabbed it and was pulled onto dry land.

I awoke expecting to be somewhere else but was still in my dark room. Tossing and turning, I eventually fell back to sleep.

Surprisingly, I felt rested in the morning. The sun was beating against my eyelids as soon as I woke up, and I knew it was late in the morning. Suddenly, a shadow blocked out the sun and I threw my eyes open.

“Ah!”

I screamed and jumped back, kicking at my bed sheets. It hurt. Kian was sitting on the end of my bed, looking perfectly at ease. The previous day’s events, the pain in my body, and my memories of those visions came back like a torrent. Whatever magic he had used to make me forget his presence evaporated in an instant.

I heard my mother call from somewhere in the house.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. Then, “Why aren’t you at school?”

I was breathing hard, torn between curiosity and not wanting to believe any of it. But he looked so trustworthy.

I’m not going to lie. I debated telling her to call the police. Screaming help, fire, etc. But he was looking at me so imploringly, and my chest started fluttering with memories of what I’d seen yesterday — the other place. I had no idea why I wanted to go back there so badly, but I did, even if it meant trusting Kian. I mentally kicked myself.

“Gwen?” My mother was still waiting for an answer. I realized time had passed while I thought through my next course of action.

“Everything’s fine!” I yelled back. “I saw a spider. And I have first period off.”

“Geez — sounded like you saw a ghost or something,” she called.

I rolled my eyes and listened for more, but that was it. My lie seemed to satisfy her, and I was left to stare at Kian, thankful I had remembered to put on pyjamas the night before.

“Okay,” I told him. All my doubts and misgivings were pulsing in my throat and I swallowed them down, leaving room for the uncontrollable urge to see that other place again. My next words came from that overwhelming desire.