The Mage's Limits: Mages of Martir Book #2 (14 page)

“Yes, Mr. Takren, sir,” said the first prisoner. “Right this way.”

His escort began heading up a set of stone stairs to their left. Darek went up with them, but every now and then he'd glanced at the training Army below. He wasn't necessarily looking at the amazing magical feats that the prisoners—more like soldiers—were producing or even sensing their unusually high magical levels. He was looking for any sign of Aorja, just a hint of her blonde head anywhere in the crowd, but there were so many soldiers training so closely together that it was impossible to spot her, if she was even down there at all.

His eyes also wandered up to the huge back wall of the prison yard. It looked like it had been blown apart at one point and put back together in a way that looked normal at first glance but which, upon further inspection, appeared hastily done. He wondered what the story behind
that
was.

The escort took Darek up higher and higher, past rows of empty cells and up flights of stairs all the way to what looked like the main office at the top. Darek glanced at every cell they passed, expecting them to look grimy and dirty, but much to his surprise, each cell looked squeaky clean and neatly organized. Granted, he didn't have much time to stand and look at them too closely, but even just a cursory glance told him that Jakuuth had cleaned up these prisoners in more ways than moral.

In a few minutes, Darek and his escort reached the top of the flights of stairs that ran along the walls of the prison yard. From this spot Darek could now see the training Army even better than before, although his chances of spotting Aorja in particular were even worse than they had been before, so he gave up that task for now.

Up here, the strong wind caused Darek's robes to whip around, although as it was only a minor annoyance, he didn't pay much attention to it. Darek followed his escort down to the end of the walkway, toward a small, shabby-looking metal building that did not look like the kind of place where someone as powerful and well-known as Jakuuth would live. It had probably been the warden's office before Jakuuth arrived, though Darek thought that Jakuuth would have redecorated it to signal that he lived there.

“Here we are,” said the first prisoner, gesturing at the metal building as they approached it. “Jakuuth ought to be in there right now talking with lieutenants about our future plans. But don't you worry, Mr. Takren sir. I'm sure Jakuuth always has time for his one and only son.”

The first prisoner was smiling at him as he said that, like he thought it was so wonderful that he was getting to reunite a father and son who had not seen each other in years. Darek returned the smile, but he now wondered just how he was going to keep up this ruse once he actually met Jakuuth.

He'll know I'm not his son the minute he sees me,
Darek thought as they drew closer and closer to the metal building.
Only question is, will he kill me right away or will he torture me first to find out who sent me here and
then
kill me?

His grim thoughts were interrupted by the powerful energy levels he felt radiating from Jakuuth's headquarters. He almost stopped, the magical aura was so strong, but he didn't because he didn't want to attract unnecessary attention from his escort.

What is that power?
Darek thought, now looking at the small metal building in bewilderment.
It feels like the Magical Superior's power level, but that makes no sense. Only one other mage in the world matches the Superior's power level and she is nowhere near here.

Finally, Darek and his escort reached the small metal building. It had two windows on the front, but they were covered with tin shutters, making it impossible to see inside. Darek did hear voices talking, but they were too muffled and indistinct for him to identify who was speaking or what they were talking about.

The first prisoner rapped on the corrugated front door, making an unusually loud banging sound that made Darek want to cover his ears. “Hello! It's Stanzi here, with a very important guest who needs to see Jakuuth right away.”

The voices on the other side stopped talking immediately. The next moment, the door opened, causing Darek to step back involuntarily when he saw who had answered it.

It was a young woman, close in age to him, with short, blonde hair and a wand in her right hand. She wore the same uniform that all of the prisoners did—a gray jumpsuit—but it seemed to fit her more loosely than it did the others, as if her uniform was a size too big.

Darek didn't focus too much on her clothing, however. He was staring into her eyes, which looked like the eyes of a bear that was about to kill its prey, eyes he had seen many times over the last decade, eyes he used to love and trust.

They were the eyes of Aorja Kitano, Darek's old friend.

“Stanzi, what do you—” said Aorja, before she met Darek's eyes and cut herself off abruptly.

“Hello, Miss Kitano,” said Stanzi, smiling proudly. He gestured at Darek as the other prisoners moved out of the way to give her a better look. “Know who this is? He's Darek Takren, the son of Jakuuth. Isn't that amaz—”

Aorja drew her wand and pointed it at Stanzi. Without warning, a blast of fire erupted from the wand and struck Stanzi in the chest. The blast was strong enough to send him flying off the walkway and into the prison yard below, a falling fireball whose screams of terror rapidly became indistinct the farther he fell.

Darek paid little attention to that. He reached for his own wand as quickly as he could, but Aorja grabbed him by the collar of his robes and dragged him inside. The last Darek saw of his escort before Aorja slammed the door shut behind them was the remaining eleven gathering at the edge of the walkway, pointing down at wherever Stanzi had fallen as cries of shock rose up from the prison yard from the training soldiers.

Chapter Nine

D
urima's initial shock at seeing the banished God of Deception, Thieves, and Horses soon faded, replaced instead by a deep fear. She struggled to sit up, but then Hollech kicked her in the chin, a powerful blow that made her jaw burn with pain and forced her to sit back down.

“H-Hollech?” said Gujak, who hadn't even tried to move from his current position on the ground. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

Hollech let out an angry snort. “Don't tell me you forgot. I was banished here by that idiot upstart godling Skimif, for no reason other than I was trying to bring the world back to the way it once was.”

As Durima massaged her aching jaw, she knew that that was somewhat true. Thirty years ago, shortly after Skimif had become the God of Martir, Hollech had formed a conspiracy with about a dozen other gods to overthrow Skimif. From what Durima had heard, the conspiracy had involved Hollech and his fellow deities causing chaos all over Martir to prove Skimif's inept leadership, which would then draw the Powers back to Martir and take away Skimif's divinity. His plan had been thwarted in part by a mortal known as Prince Malock, and as punishment for his crime, Hollech had been banished beyond the Void by Skimif.

His banishment was supposed to last a thousand years, but when Durima saw how stringy Hollech's mane looked, how he seemed to be missing one eye, she began to wonder if he would even last another ten.

“But why did you call yourself the God of the Void?” said Gujak, holding his chained hands over his head like he thought that would protect him from Hollech's anger. “I thought you were the God of Deception, Thieves, and Horses.”

“Correction: I
was
the God of Deception, Thieves, and Horses,” said Hollech. He leaned forward, his sole equine eye widening unnaturally. “But then Skimif took away my powers, like a father taking away a toy from a child who is acting out. So now, I am the God of the Void, as none of the other gods have any influence here.”

“So you can control the Void?” said Gujak in horror.

“Yes!” Hollech said, standing up straight. “Behold as I make the Void do my bidding.”

He reached out with his non-glowing hand into the darkness. Durima and Gujak watched, waiting to see the Void react to Hollech's commands. Durima didn't see how it could be possible for a god to control the Void, but she did not want to accuse Hollech of lying, even though she knew that he probably wouldn't mind it.

Several minutes passed as they stared at Hollech's outstretched hand. Nothing happened; at least, nothing that Durima could see. She strained her ears, trying to hear anything, but the Void was as silent as always.

Then Hollech lowered his hand and looked down at them again. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” said Gujak before Durima could tell him to shut up.

“The Void bending to my will!” Hollech cried out, waving his arms up and down. “Didn't you see the darkness turn into a dragon and then become a perfect replica of yours truly? Are you two blind? Or just stupid?”

“Neither, my lord,” said Durima hurriedly. “We saw the whole thing. Gujak here was just joking. He has a bad habit of doing that in these kinds of situations.”

“What a terrible joke,” said Hollech, shaking his head. “But I am glad you saw it. Truly, you now know that I am the God of the Void, not to be questioned or doubted.”

Gujak glanced at Durima with an expression that clearly said,
What are you talking about?
But Durima just shook her head quickly, a nonverbal way of saying,
Just go with it. This guy is absolutely insane and you know it.

“I, and I alone, rule the Void,” said Hollech, raising his shining fist high above his head. “No one understands its intricacies and mysteries nearly as well as I do. The Void answers to one master, and that master is me.”

Then Hollech pointed at Durima and snapped, “You. I remember you. What did you do for me back in the old days?”

Caught off-guard by Hollech's sudden topic change, Durima stuttered, “W-What?”

“What did I hire you to do for me back when I was in Martir?” Hollech said. “Answer quickly or I will toss you into the Void waters and see how well you can swim with those chains around your neck and limbs.”

Durima thought fast. She did recall working for Hollech in her younger years, but it had been so long ago, perhaps a century or so, that she could barely recall what she had done for him. Combined with the stress of Hollech's threat, and for a moment she thought she wouldn't remember.

But then she did, and she said, “You hired me to kill this mortal man you didn't like. He blasphemed your name regularly and you couldn't stand that, so you gave me permission to kill him and his female partner.”

“Did you do it?” Hollech asked, his voice lower and far more menacing than before.

“Yes, sir,” said Durima, nodding. “I went to the man's house and burned it to the ground while he and his female partner were still inside. They had a baby, but I think it died as well.”

“No, it didn't,” Hollech snapped. He tapped the side of his head. “I remember. I raised that baby, who grew up to become my old servant Ramufa, but of course you don't remember him because I never hired you again. Ramufa was an infinitely better servant than you katabans, that's for sure.”

Whether there was any truth to what Hollech just said, Durima didn't know. She decided it was better not to argue the point with him, as he could probably kill her if he wanted.

“Now tell me,” said Hollech, his tone now more inquisitive than angry, “how many years has it been since Skimif banished me beyond the Void? Are my thousand years nearly up yet?”

He asked that last question in a pleading voice, like a disciplined child asking if his punishment was almost over. It seemed like a very inappropriate tone for a god, of all beings, to use.

“No, Hollech, sir,” said Gujak, shaking his head. “It's actually been thirty years since you were last banished.”

“Thirty years?” said Hollech. He stomped the ground so hard that it cracked under his feet. He looked up and shook his fist at the sky. “Damn you, Skimif! Once I get out of here, I will do everything within my power to tear you limb from limb, you arrogant upstart of a godling! I will bring the entire wrath of the Void itself down on you! I—”

Hollech suddenly started coughing. He beat his fist against his chest, as if something was lodged in his lungs. He coughed and hacked so badly that Durima thought for a moment that he was about to die.

But then Hollech stopped coughing. He looked around for a moment, like he thought someone might have been watching him from the darkness. When he was sure they were alone, he looked back at Durima and Gujak, a more reserved expression on his face.

“Yes,” said Hollech. “Well, thirty years is better than no years at all, I suppose. But that still leaves a solid nine-hundred and seventy years left. What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Gujak gulped. “Uh, whatever it is you've been doing now, sir?”

Hollech froze, like Gujak had just revealed the secrets of the universe to him. “You mean explore the deepest depths of the Void, cursing Skimif every minute of every day, and doing my best to avoid the Scavengers?”

“What's a Scavenger?” said Gujak.

“It doesn't matter,” said Hollech. “Tell me, why were you two chained up together in a boat like that? Who sent you here? No, let me guess. It was a punishment for some crime you committed, but I cannot imagine how horrible that crime must have been if they decided to banish you two beyond the Void rather than mercifully execute you.”

There was no way in hell that Durima would reveal to Hollech that she and Gujak had killed one of his sisters. One thing she did remember about Hollech was how protective he had been of his siblings, despite always playing tricks on them. If they told him the truth, he'd probably execute them himself.

Need a plausible excuse
, Durima thought, looking around for any inspiration.
Not just any excuse, either. Hollech was the God of Deception. He can probably see straight through our lies. Doesn't mean we can't try, though.

But Durima's thoughts were as dry as a well in a drought. She could not think of a good enough lie that would deceive the former God of Deception.

As it turned out, she didn't need to, because Gujak said, “We were kidnapped by a cult of katabans that worship the Void. They sent us here as their 'sacrifice' to the Void. It was very scary.”