The Mage of Trelian (21 page)

The day passed with excruciating slowness.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Helena when he arrived for group practice in the afternoon. And then he worried about how that might look suspicious, until he realized that everyone was avoiding looking at one another today. It made sense, after Joran. No one wanted to see their own fear and dismay reflected in anyone else’s eyes.

Krelig seemed back in good spirits, and everyone worked extra hard to please him. Calen worried that this might encourage Krelig to kill more mages in order to inspire the rest to better performance, but he reminded himself that this would not be his concern after today. Let the traitors get what they deserved. Although really it was getting harder to think of them all that way. As a group, collectively, he hated them. But he found it hard to wish death upon any one of them individually. Even the truly awful ones — and there were many of those. For every misguided coward who joined out of fear, whom he could almost,
almost
feel sorry for, there were more who came because they wanted more power, more freedom to do whatever they wished. He hoped they were realizing how little freedom being under Krelig’s rule would truly give them. He hoped it kept them up at night and gave them indigestion. He hoped . . .

“Calen,” Krelig said, startling him out of his thoughts, “come here and demonstrate the proper way to adjust the speed of another mage’s spell.”

Calen forced himself to focus. He just had to get through this last day without giving himself away. Just a few more hours to go.

Calen and Helena practiced as usual that evening in the empty training hall. It seemed dangerous to do anything that deviated from their normal routine, and besides, they needed to be together tonight so he could bring her with him. Luckily, she’d had trouble with the speed-adjustment spells earlier, and so they had an easy choice for what to focus on and a ready excuse for practicing late into the night. Anyone who saw them would certainly understand Helena’s desire to not be too slow at mastering something. And they spent enough time together now that the other mages were used to seeing them in each other’s company. There was no reason for any of this to seem suspicious. But Calen worried all the same.

Eventually Helena released her last spell and said, “I’m done for the night, I think. Too tired. But I think I’ve gotten better, don’t you?”

“A little better,” Calen said. “Not nearly as good as me, though,” he added, making himself smile at her.

“Watch it,” Helena said, smiling back. “Unless you want another tickling. Don’t think I won’t do it.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “No tickling, please. I don’t think I could take it right now.”

“Then you’d better be nice to me.” She walked over and took his arm, and they started walking back to his room. Every step, Calen expected someone to appear and challenge them.

But no one did.

They reached his room, and he set the door wards behind him as always. The plan was for them to transport to Trelian at midnight. Just a little over an hour from now. He dragged a small, low table over to the balcony.

Helena watched, eyebrows raised.

“Running start,” Calen explained. “I thought it would help us get more distance — run toward the balcony, up on the table, then up onto the wall, and push off. . . .”

“And out into nothing,” she finished, looking bleak. “I’m terrified, Calen.”

“Me, too,” he admitted.

She smacked him on the arm. “Don’t tell me that! Tell me you’re perfectly confident that everything is going to go exactly according to plan!”

He laughed. “Okay, sorry! I am perfectly confident that everything is going to go exactly according to plan.”

“Much better,” she said, laughing a little herself.

That was when Mage Krelig stepped through the door.

“Master!” Calen said. Oh, gods. What was he
doing
here? Had he heard them talking? Had — had Helena . . . ?

No. He wouldn’t believe that. He scrambled to think of how he might try to explain, to pretend he had misheard them . . . but Krelig didn’t seem interested in what they had been saying. He was holding something in his hands, looking down at it. Calen looked down at it, too.

It was a crow.

“I found this bird,” Krelig said in a strange voice. He looked up at Calen, and his eyes were blank and distant. “Someone has cast a spell on it. A spell that makes it want to find you. Look.” He poked it, a spark of white energy appearing just before the point of contact.

“Calen,” the bird said in Serek’s voice.

“Why would a bird be looking for you, Calen?” Krelig asked. He didn’t even seem to see Helena standing beside him.

“I — I don’t know,” Calen said. He had to stay calm. “Maybe the other mages have been trying to find me? I’m sure they would want to get me away if they thought it would hurt your plans.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Krelig said. “I thought we would laugh about it together. But then I heard the rest of its message.” He poked the bird again.

Calen listened in horror as the bird confirmed that everything was ready for his return.

“It’s — it’s a trick, Master. I didn’t . . . I don’t know what it’s talking about. . . .”

“I don’t believe you,” Krelig said, still speaking in that odd cadence with no real expression whatsoever. Calen had never heard his voice sound so . . . empty. “This is not the first message the bird has carried. I can’t hear them, but I can tell that there were more. You’ve been communicating with someone. With our enemies.”

Helena was still standing beside him. Calen could grab her hand, but he didn’t think they could make it over the balcony before Krelig stopped them. Stopped them and probably killed them both.

“No, I —”

“Don’t lie to me, Calen.” He looked down at the bird again, and then abruptly snapped its neck and dropped its lifeless body to the floor. When he raised his head again, his eyes were no longer vacant. They were blazing with anger. And pain? “But you’ve
been
lying. All along. Haven’t you?”

“Master —”

“Stop lying!”
Krelig screamed. Calen saw the red energy begin to gather around the man’s hands and without thinking pulled Helena close and threw a shield up around them both. Her face was white and terrified. The spell that came at them was powerful and deadly, but he’d had enough time to prepare, thanks to those few extra seconds of knowing what Krelig was about to cast. The spell shattered against his shield, but the force of it made him stagger back a step. That wasn’t good. He realized that he’d never before attempted to block Krelig when the mage was really trying to hurt him. Not like this.

Krelig started walking toward them, casting new spells with every step. Each one forced Calen and Helena back farther. She added her own magic to his, reinforcing the shield, but it was clear that even together they wouldn’t be able to hold out against him for long.

“We have to run,” Calen whispered.

“We’d never make it,” Helena responded. “Not both of us.”

Another blast shook them, and the shield wavered for a second before Calen got it back under control. “I don’t know what else to do,” he said desperately. “We can’t keep this up. He’s going to break through.”

“I know what to do,” she said calmly. They were both facing forward, eyes locked on Krelig, but Calen felt her reach around for his hand and then, once she had it, squeeze it tightly. “Thank you for trying to take me with you. If you see Mage Avicia, tell her I’d been trying to get back, okay? Tell her I wasn’t a traitor at the end.”

“What are you —?”

She let go of his hand and threw herself at Krelig. He’d gotten close enough that she was able to tackle him before he could react to this unexpected, nonmagical attack, and the two of them went tumbling to the floor.

“Helena, no!”

“Go!” she screamed at him. She was tearing at Krelig’s hair, pounding at him with her fists, but he’d have her off of him in a second, Calen was sure. “Go now! Don’t you dare make this for nothing!”

Krelig pushed her away with a ghastly scream of his own, then started to bring his hands up toward her.

“Calen,
go
!” she screamed. “Go right now, gods curse you!
Go!
”

He went.

He turned and ran for the balcony, leaping up onto the table and then the outer wall just as he’d envisioned. Behind him, he heard Helena say something that sounded like, “Oh, no, you don’t,” and then a crash. A burst of red-black energy scorched the air as it shot past, missing his head by inches. He didn’t turn around. He pushed off the wall as hard as he could, sailing forward into the black sky toward the slight shimmer of the barrier. It couldn’t have been more than a second or two before he reached it, but it felt like forever. He had time to wonder why he’d listened, why he’d let her do it. He had time to wish he could go back and try to save her. The voice in his head told him that there was no way to save her. That he had to get back to help the others stop Krelig. That he had a responsibility to survive, and to fight. He had time to tell the voice to shut up.

Then he passed through the barrier, flying and falling, and with a final silent apology to Helena, he cast the transportation spell.

Her dying scream echoed in his ears as he vanished.

M
AUREL WAS THE FIRST ONE TO
reach them, although Pela was only a few steps behind her.

“Meg!” Maurel shouted, climbing up to poke her head over the edge of the cart, startling some of the wounded soldiers in the process. “Are you okay? They said you almost
died
!”

“I’m all right,” Meg said, just as Pela reached up and gently but firmly pulled Maurel back down from the side of the cart. Meg saw several medics and assistants approaching behind them. “Who said? How did you —?”

“The soldiers Captain Varyn sent back to bring word of your victory arrived a few days ago,” Pela answered. “They said you’d been badly injured but were expected to recover. They weren’t sure when you would be returning to us, though.”

Meg grimaced.
Expected to recover
was not the most reassuring phrase; her parents must have been in a panic.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Eventually. I should report in. . . .”

“You should go straight to the infirmary,” Pela said. As Meg opened her mouth to object, Pela added, “But I knew that was never going to happen, so I had the physicians set up your room for you as soon as we heard what had happened.”

“Thank you, Pela,” Meg said gratefully. “I — I’ll just need some help getting there.” But Pela had anticipated that as well.

“I sent word as soon as we saw Jakl approaching,” Pela said. She took Maurel’s hand and led her off to the side. “Let’s give Meg and the medics some room.”

Maurel stared as two rather burly assistants carefully helped Meg down from the cart and onto the litter the medics had waiting for her. The rest began helping the other soldiers down from the cart behind her.

“Meg — can’t you walk?”

“Not very well just yet,” Meg said, wincing slightly as they settled her into place. “It’s okay,” she added, seeing Maurel’s stricken expression. “I’ll be able to walk again just fine. My leg just needs a little time to heal.”

“And your arm, too? And your shoulder? And your head?”

Meg had almost forgotten about the bandages still covering the burns on the right side of her head. “Yes,” Meg said. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“Okay,” Maurel said doubtfully. She looked at Meg for a moment, then past her at where Jakl lay resting beyond the cart. “Is Jakl hurt, too?”

Meg smiled. “Jakl is fine,” she said. “He was very brave and helped us win the battle. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

“Time to get you inside, Princess,” one of the medics said.

“Yes,” Meg said wearily.
I have to go inside now,
she sent to Jakl.
I need to rest and let them help me heal. It may be a while before I can come see you, but you know I’ll come as soon as I can.

She felt his grudging acceptance of this information.

Thank you for bringing me home,
she added fervently.
I don’t know where I would be without you.

He sent back feelings of gladness and safety and protectiveness and love and
always,
and she nodded and let the medics carry her away.

But instead of heading for the kitchen entrance, which was closest, they took the longer route toward the front courtyard. “Why are we going this way?”

“The king and queen requested that we bring you in through the main hall,” one of the medics responded.

“But why?”

“You’ll see,” one of the assistants said, looking back over his shoulder at her and smiling broadly. And in a moment, she did.

A great crowd of people had gathered in the courtyard. They lined the outer wall and even spilled out through the main gate toward what she could see of the Queen’s Road beyond. Soldiers, servants, refugees from the surrounding countryside . . . and more were arriving as she watched.

“Some of them have been here since yesterday, waiting, even though your parents sent the guards to tell them it might be days before you returned,” Pela said, leaning in close from where she walked beside the slowly moving litter.