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Authors: Cat Adams

Magic's Design (7 page)

BOOK: Magic's Design
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“A tonsillectomy? Why didn’t you tell me before?” Candy jumped down from the counter, landing on the tiled floor with a bang that turned all eyes to her. “Of course. I’ll meet you there in an hour. Which hospital?”
The woman didn’t act panicked, so it apparently wasn’t an emergency. But it took Tal a moment to realize that he felt
capable
of taking on an emergency, when moments ago he would have had to struggle to sprint out to the roadway.
He was energized, refreshed in a way that seemed to lift years from his shoulders. The sensation was familiar from long ago and it told him which guild these crafters hailed from, even though it wasn’t possible. He feared even uttering the name out loud, for the guild house of the Parask, the soul-conjurers, lay deserted, burned to the ground by fearful topsiders. And for good reason, if whispered tales were true.
Few would speak of what happened during that turbulent time, but there had been rumors, as there always are. Some of the oldest masters whispered that the Parask had gone dark—had joined Vegre in creating the plague that had not only destroyed most of the world’s magicwielders, but half of the human population, as well. Others claimed that the Parask had simply grown too close to the humans by interbreeding and had caused a magical illness to become a medical one. Either way, the kings refused them entry into Agathia when magicwielders fled the topside world. They were shunned, outcast. Children with Parask potential were …
encouraged
to pursue other forms of magic. Those who didn’t were executed.
“I’m sorry. I know there’s a lot going on now, but I’ve got to go to the hospital.” Candy gave her friend an apologetic look before turning to Nadia. “My favorite niece is scheduled for a tonsillectomy at St. Catherine’s this afternoon and she wants to see me before they put her under the anesthetic.”If you want, I can drop you off at your car on the way.”
“You will
drop
us on the way back,” Nadia corrected firmly before taking a long drink of tea from her cup. She continued, “I, too, have reason to go to St. Catherine’s. A friend has requested I do an egg rolling for her daughter. Mila, you will accompany me.” Tal didn’t miss the stern look she gave the younger woman. “You need the practice.”
“No, Baba.” Mila spoke firmly enough to draw the eyes of everyone in the room. “The car can wait. I’m not leaving this house until I know what is going on. Someone broke into my home and kidnaped my friend. Who’s to say they won’t be back? And while these ‘Guilders’ claim to be police, we have only their word for it. I’m not even completely positive I believe you about having my memories altered. Why would Mom, or anyone else, do that to me?”
The old woman gave her granddaughter a look that would have made a lesser woman quake in her boots, but Mila stood firm, feet planted solidly, her jaw thrust forward in a stubborn line.
“Bah!” The old woman spat the word out. “You have
healed
this man. You have the measure of him, as a mage and a man. Can you say with honesty you do not trust him? Can you say you do not trust
me?

A dark flush crept up the younger woman’s cheeks, but she stood her ground.
Nadia’s eyes narrowed. “Candace, Constable, give us a moment if you please.”
It wasn’t a request, despite the wording. Tal winced, but complied. He had no desire to witness a craftmaster dressing down her apprentice.
 
T
he spell to activate the tracking of his glove was a simple one. Just as well, because Tal wanted to save his energy. If … no,
when
he found Vegre, he’d need every ounce of his strength and cunning to capture him.
He crossed the living room to stand in front of the fireplace that took up most of one wall. Turning the lever, he opened the flue. With a muttered word and a hand gesture, he called fire to the logs that had been laid in the grate.
Vague images flickered in the orange and gold flames; he could see wide white halls, and bustling figures in loose-fitting cotton clothing. He fed more power into the spell, and the fire bent to his will, focusing more clearly. “Where … show me where.” He whispered. In answer he heard the hollow, echoing sound of voices in the far distance.
“That is just amazing.” Candy’s awed voice came from behind his left shoulder. “I swear I can actually smell the disinfectant.”
He started, and the flames responded, flaring upward alarmingly before he shut them down completely.
“You know this place? The one revealed?”
“It looks like either one of the big clinics or the admissions area of a hospital. I don’t know which one though.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he assured her. “I’ve activated the spell. I can follow it now. I will speak with Alexy. Your friend made a valid point. Gates are not so easily made nor common that they will willingly discard this one. They may well come back. It is worth leaving him to stand guard while I follow the trail.”
“Assuming Mila has no objections,” Candy said firmly. “It is her house after all.”
He sighed. Whether she objected or no, the gate needed guarding. Still, it would be better, and easier, to play along and be polite for as long as possible. “Fine.” He agreed. “We will tell your friend.”

Ask.
You will
ask.
Don’t just presume she’ll go along.”
Tal didn’t answer, just crossed the room to push open the slatted door, stepping right into the middle of the argument he should have known was occurring.

E
nough, Mila. We are Parask. We do not refuse to heal just because the way is difficult, yes?”
Tal stiffened at Baba’s words and his words came out in a dangerous rumble. “So, you
are
soul-conjurers. Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t strike you down right here? Stop you from causing harm to a young human?”
Mila and Candy turned to him with dropped jaws, but Baba just waved her hand in dismissal. “Pah! Pay him no mind. I see nothing has changed bottomside. Their minds are still as the tiny mouse hole in the wall. If he believes the lies they tell, he is of no use to us.” Baba began to gather her things. “Stay or go, young mage. But do not make the mistake of thinking you are crafter enough to stand in my way.”
Tal wouldn’t be put off. He raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms, his thick woolen cape fluttering into the air. “What part of it is lies, lifer? That your guild betrayed us, or that you doomed millions of humans to death?”
That stopped Baba, but only long enough to stare at him, as though memorizing every pore of his skin. “You were not there, so you do not know who betrayed
whom.
It is as I have always said. All lies do is confuse those who come after. It was the kings who betrayed
us
—who made my daughter-in-law so full of fear after they killed Mila’s father that she risked the life of her child to make her forget your kind. It is a pity. I would have thought a constable of the O.P.A. would have more brains than to believe the pigslop the palace claims is cake.”
Tal’s eyelids narrowed, but he was more thoughtful than angry. “Guilders are remarkably long lived by human standards. Why would you think I wasn’t there to see your betrayal of our people?”
Baba stepped over to the table, getting so close to his chest that even by Ukrainian standards, she was violating his space. Mila could feel energy rising in the room, stinging her skin enough to make her rub palms against her pants to ease it. Baba’s words were a whisper, but they seemed to scream into the room, over her and Candy’s tense breathing and the bubbling of herbs on the stove. “Because I would know you, mage, and I do not. As you say, we are remarkably long lived. If you
were
at Blackshear, you were too young to understand the politics being played. So I will give you the, what is it called?” She paused for a brief moment and then raised one finger. “Ah, yes. The benefit of the doubt. I will not hold against you the foolishness of your elders. But neither will I allow you to slander my family or my people.”
He nodded once, just a tiny dip of his chin, but his eyes kept a healthy amount of suspicion. “You seem very convinced of your clan’s innocence, and I’ve seen no evidence you mean anyone harm. And,” he said with a small, bitter laugh, “I’ve had more than one occasion to sample the cake from the kings. I will offer to withhold judgment for the time being.” Baba nodded just before he glanced behind him and listened for a moment. “But I’d caution you not to invoke your guild name around my partner. He’s a little too fond of cake and has little self-control to guide his talent.”
A faint fluttering, crackling sound made her turn away from Tal, quickly enough to bump his arm. It pulled a small hiss from him that brought a tiny smile to Baba’s face. “I learned long ago to hold my tongue, but you see that I can defend myself if necessary.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but walked across the room to examine the green leafy vine hanging from a basket suspended from the ceiling. It was looking rather ill. Mila joined her at the window and picked up one of a dozen wilted leaves that littered the formerly clean floor. “Oh, man! This was fine yesterday. I hope I haven’t been giving it too much water.”
Baba sniffed one of the leaves, then wrinkled her nose. She reached out, quick as a snake, and grabbed Mila’s chin. She turned her face this way and that, staring at her with eyes slowly growing concerned. “You look too well. Where did you pull the power?”
Mila tried to pull back out of her grasp, but it was as if she was held in a vise. “I don’t know what you mean, Baba.”
She let go of her face, and rolled her hand expansively. “The power, Mila. You healed the mage. Even I can see it. But where did the energy come from? We soon go to a hospital with many sick people. Killing a vine is a tiny mistake, but if you cannot control your abilities, more than mere leaves will be dropping to the floor. You must concentrate now. What life did you end to save his?”
An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of her stomach and she looked again at the yellow, sickly leaf draped across her palm. She couldn’t resist a quick sniff, and realized why Baba had wrinkled her nose. It smelled decayed, like a compost pile that needed turning. Had she really caused this? “You think
I
killed the vine … when all that magic was floating around the room?”
Baba shrugged, raising her hands into the air helplessly, while Candy paled. “Who else? There is only so much life on the planet, Mila. You must take from Saint Peter’s pocket to repay the debt to Saint Paul, yes? The mage was weak and needed life. You can choose to draw from your own life or take the life from another when you heal. It is as I used to tell you when you were little, when you tried to save the life of your pet rabbit. What will you give? Who will you sacrifice and is it worth it?”
The memory of the talk came back in a rush—the first memory she’d had of her childhood in years. They’d been out in the backyard next to the bunny cage. Her 4-H project had gotten pneumonia and was dying. Her own carelessness had caused it. She’d forgotten to give the medicine when it was just a cold and her mother couldn’t afford a big vet bill right then. In tears and panicked, almost anything was worth the price. “I gave up a day of my life to save that bunny. I remember now.”
Baba nodded and leaned back against the counter. Tal seemed extremely interested in the discussion. He was staring at her, hanging on her every movement. “You offered the value of a day for a mere pet?”
She blushed, and couldn’t figure out why. “He was pretty … white with a black nose. And it was my fault he was so sick.”
“Not the mark of a callous betrayer, eh, mage?” Baba’s smile was lightly mocking but understanding in that odd way she had about her. Then she turned back and motioned to the slowly falling leaves. “But today, you chose different. You sacrificed the plant for the man. It was not a bad choice, but you must
know
it was a decision before we visit the hospital. You can not pull life freely from the air when so many there will have so little, yes?”
The situation came home to Mila with frightening clarity. Baba was telling her that if she helped save one person, something else would have to give. If Baba’s friend was really sick, then healing her would cost someone … somewhere. If a bunny cost a day, what was a human? A week? A year of her life? She just couldn’t remember and it would make her look like an idiot to ask. Obviously, she couldn’t risk anyone else. When she’d started to look at Talos, she couldn’t focus enough to do anything more than just heal him. She apparently picked a target by instinct and moved the energy from one place to the next. She didn’t even remember targeting the plant, but must have.
“I wish I could have trained you longer, Mila. But your mama, she wouldn’t allow once Mikel was gone. I think it hurt her to watch you craft—reminded her too much of him. But I never thought her anger with the kings would go so far. She blamed them, yes, and now it has cost us all. We will have to train hard now that you know you can do this, yes? You must be ready to battle.”
Train? Battle?
What the hell—?
“Um … we’re still talking about healing, right?”
“Of course,” said Baba calmly. “Today we heal. Later we train, bring you back to your potential. The worlds, they are colliding, yes?
You
are responsible to protect the humans now. My time will likely end before this is done. Vegre will not be easy to bring to justice and I am old.”
This conversation was going downhill quickly. But when she opened her mouth to reply, an odd voice echoed into the room. It was unearthly and echoing, with a singsong quality. It reminded Mila of the horror movie when the little girl was talking through the television.
“Al … os. An … you … hear me?” Tal raised his right arm and bared the birthmark that Baba had showed her. It was vivid red, glowing lightly. He winced as it flashed like a strip-club neon sign. “I can hear you, Kris. But why are you flashing my mark? What’s wrong?”
The woman’s voice seemed to steady somewhat, even though it still echoed slightly. “Only way to … reach you without them knowing. What in … raters is going on … ere, Tal?”
Tal furrowed his brow and stared at his arm. Mila kept wondering if a face was going to pop out of his arm as hard as he was watching the mark. “You should already have the report. There was a breakout from Rohm. We tried to stop it, but failed. Sela went missing and we tracked her topside. But she’s been taken, and we think it was by the black mage Vegre. There was an unauthorized gate here, and Alexy is doing a magic signature track right now. We’ll be back down there soon and I’ll tell you more.”
“No! Not here. Stay topside. Afraid … you’d say that,” said the voice he called Kris. “Problem is …
you’re
accused of the breakout. All-points bulletin for your capture or death and Rohm in lockdown. It’s why I … contact … you like this.”
He stared at his arm like it had sprouted wings. “
What?
Sela made her report during the breakout, describing the three Guilders and Alexy contacted Commander Sommersby to tell him we were going to track the escapee and search for Sela. We have full permission and are
supposed
to have backup arriving soon.”
There was a pause, long enough that Talos spoke again. “Kris? Are you still there?”
“Still … here. But more than one problem now, big brother. Commander S … says never heard from you, and report that you and Duvrot staged breakout was submitted … by Sela.”
BOOK: Magic's Design
12.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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