Unlocking Void (Book 3) (12 page)

Chapter 14

“Gabriel.”
A faint voice whispered in his ear. The smell of blood, the heat of goose down, incredible fatigue and lightheadedness awoke his senses.

“Wake up, lad.”

Gabriel’s eyes fluttered open and focused on the bed canopy. He rubbed his eyes and blinked again. His body felt parched and wasted, but he managed to raise his head to look around.

Half his clothes were stained dark brown and felt caked, cracking as he sat up slowly. It all came back to him—the attack, the Castrofax, the hand.
‘Oh stars, my hand.’

He looked down at his left hand, feeling it attached to his wrist, but not feeling the sheets beneath it. He raised it and commanded it to close. His hand obeyed awkwardly, and he bent one finger at a time.

“Can you feel it, lad?”

Gabriel looked up and recognized the man standing in his room by the lit fire. “Arding?” The king-like man had been absent since Gabriel took the Head Mage seat. He had saved Gabriel more than once. The legends said when the world was born, the elements raged together and laid waste to the lands and people. They wrapped themselves up in human form so they could be controlled, one for each of the six Elements. Gabriel believed with all his existence that Arding was Fire. “No, I can’t.”

Arding’s handsome face frowned a touch. He was garbed in fine dark leather with a flowing red cape that fell off one shoulder to the floor. He looked out of place without a coronet. “I wish I had a way to mend it. There are others, stronger Mages you have not found yet.”

“Where?”

“The world is much larger than you think, lad.”

Gabriel flexed his hand again. Someone had tried to wipe off the blood, but it still caked in his knuckles. “Where have you been? Was it you who pulled me off the mountain?”

Arding raised his heavy brows. “You have been in Castle Jaden. I am bound to the rules of Elements, and there are wards that keep me out.”

“You travel by fire, don’t you?”

He looked behind him at the blazing hearth and nodded.

“So it could not have been you on the summit.” Gabriel put his hands into his hair, bumping his left hand clumsily. “If you are Fire, then could Spirit heal me?”

Arding looked at the floor, and the muscles in his strong bearded face flexed. “I am afraid not, lad. He has other things on his mind right now.”

“Then why did you come here?” Gabriel asked.

“It is the Elements’ duty to watch over the leader of our children.”

“And when will I meet the rest of
your
people?”

Arding chuckled. “In due time, lad. Try not to stay in Jaden so long.” He kicked his long cape back, and it fluttered into the fire. In a moment his entire body engulfed in it. With a kingly nod, Arding vanished like lit paper.

A knock sounded on his door as Gabriel tried to stand up. Lewis entered with Aisling close behind him. Gabriel opened and closed his left hand with thin lips.

“You can move it! That is wonderful!”

“But I cannot feel it.”

Lewis stopped short. “I am sorry, Head Mage, we mended it the best we could but…severed nerves are beyond my skill.”

Aisling took up the hand. “It is warm, so it is getting blood flow.” She pinched the tips of his fingers but got no reaction. “Robyn wants to speak with you before you leave.”

He frowned down at her. “
Why
? No.”

Aisling gave him an alarmed look. “Why ever not?”

“Did she not tell you? Go ask her. I am returning to Jaden immediately. Someone get Mikelle and Lael.” He pushed himself off the bed and staggered to the doorway. The blood loss threatened to take him to the floor. His remaining Council rose from the anteroom, and Lael rushed to help him stand. Mikelle wrapped her arms around his waist and clutched him tightly. As soon as Lewis was secured, he opened himself to Void and shot to Jaden.

The castle was in chaos.

Mages filled the courtyard rushing about as though they were trying to flee. The Council was doing their best to calm everyone, but they were just as frazzled. Arch Mages through the wards, their leader in a Castrofax; they had every reason to worry.

Gabriel cut the shift in the center of it all, threw up his hand, and shouted “HALT!” Mages stopped in their tracks and gawked at him. He was a sight; covered in blood and unable to stand without help. “The threat is passed. Return to your homes.”

Mages hurled frenzied questions. “How did they get in?” “Will it happen again?” “What happened to you?” “Did you kill one of them?”

Gabriel’s voice echoed through the courtyard. “I will have answers later, but now I need rest.”

Blessedly they respected him, and the crowd dispersed.

Dagan ran up and took up Gabriel’s other arm over his shoulder. “Someone found this,” he said quietly as they walked towards the Lodge. He showed a large coin with a circle punched in the center. “I believe it is the Medallion of Unwind. It bent the wards long enough for them to get in.”

“How many of those are there?” Gabriel asked.

“Only one, and it is dead. Did…how were you wounded in the battle?”

“Castrofax wristlet,” Gabriel replied and Dagan gaped.

“You cut it off.”

“You bet I did.”

They wound their way up the stairs to his quarters, and deposited him in his bedchamber, leaving him to bathe. The water never felt so good, but it only soothed his skin. He wondered if Ryker intended to attack again, and if he secured the right wristlet, Gabriel would be rendered useless. Everyone knew a Mage without his hands was like a racehorse with a broken leg.

His solitude did not last long. He sat on a built-in bench on the side, his head on the rim, and he did not need to raise it to know it was Mikelle who entered. “I’m naked.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I’m here,” she replied, and he opened an eye. “I brought you fresh clothes.”

“And plan to help me dress no doubt.”

“Do not be so taciturn.” She sat on the ground across from him folding her legs beneath her. “You were brilliant today.”

He raised his head. “You weren’t so bad yourself. Thank you for holding me down.”

“You weren’t the first man,” she grinned and waved a hand. He could not help but grin either. “I meant brilliant in battle. You’ve gotten much better.”

“I still have a long way to go.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “You need a Void teacher.”

He sighed. “I know. Remember Arding, that mysterious noble I told you about? I saw him in Kilkiny, and he said there are other Mages.”

Mikelle looked alarmed and concerned. “No one came in or out of your room.”

He grimaced. “I’m not crazy. Just trust me.”

“You’re past crazy,” she grinned, but it slipped. “I can see it in your eyes, you know, the pain you’re in. It’s not physical pain. It’s much deeper, and I know it stems from Nolen. If you do not let it out, it will chip away at you until all your happiness is gone.”

He stared at her unblinking for a few moments. “Am I so transparent?”

“I had a friend in the Mage Academy who was accidently hit with an arrow—I didn’t do it—and for months after, I could see the fear in his eyes whenever he went outside. He was forever fearful he would be shot again. Finally one day he broke down and said he was tired of being afraid. It was when he made the decision to no longer be a victim that he began to heal. It took time of course and a lot of kissing, but he was eventually able to go outside without being afraid. I have no doubt you will take the same path.”

He gave her a flat look. “I’m not kissing you.”

“Not
that
. I mean at some point you are going to be so fed up with the way your memories feel, that the only thing you can do is heal.”

“Do you think me broken?”

“Yes, Gabriel. And for a goodly while you will be. But when you are free of those burdens, you are going to be the most powerful, the most resilient Head Mage to ever lead his people because you have faced the most terrible things and defeated them. It will not happen in a day, it will take a while, but I have faith you will persevere and win.”

He bowed his head and rubbed his eyes with his good hand. “Anything else you want to get off your mind?”

“I spoke with Robyn. She said she is sorry and wants to speak with you.”

“I
bet
she is,” he snapped. “Don’t be a liaison.”

“Is that a wound?”

“No, that’s lesion. Liaison is the meddler that goes between two parties that don’t want to talk.”

“Parties are involved?”

“No—” he cut short when he saw her grinning. “You do this on purpose.”

“I know that one, it’s a dolphin.”

“No, that’s porpoise.”

Chapter15

Prince Balien sat atop his palomino palfrey and surveyed the army camp around him. His sister’s ascension to the throne left him in charge of her armies, and while it seemed ideal from the beginning, it had turned into many long days of travel and very few moments of combat. He much preferred the combat to anything else. His golden sword Harbinger sat unused in his shoulder sheath, and his rear was saddle sore.

They marched up the coast starting at the Balfor Delta and heading north, banishing every Shalabane they could find. Most of them had come over on massive ships, intending to colonize the lands that Queen Miranda let slip. Balien marched them right back onto those ships and watched the horizon until they vanished. They had been met with much hostility, but the Shalabane were in the Queen’s lands without her permission.

The relationship with the Shalabane had been treacherous for centuries. The Emperor ruled from a dynasty that sought to better themselves and not their subjects. They constantly warred with the surrounding countries. They shared a border with the kingdom of Bodelane, and each year they encroached on their lands. Many of the Hundred Isles of Arconia had fallen to Shalabane rule, and now Anatoly’s Myron Islands had suffered the same fate with much of the east coast.

General Calsifer on his black charger Araybiatt, stood like one massive statue, periodically nodding his head to give instruction. They spent most of the day filtering through the forest and removing outlaw Shalabane. Most had gone with their fists flailing, and more than one had lost their life.

Calsifer tried very hard to hide his happiness in their task. Balien knew it was very important to the old General since Shalabane pirates took his wife and never returned.

“You look far too happy, General,” Balien said as he sauntered up.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Calsifer replied. “It is never easy to remove someone from their home…but they never should have been here to begin with. The fault lies with them.”

Balien nodded. No one loved the Shalabane, and they had wreaked such havoc on the lands, but he did not like displacing the women and children. The more people he put back on their ships, the more he wondered if their actions would lead to war.

Fortunately, General Calsifer did not think so. The people he returned to the Empire would be seen as rejects and rebels. The Emperor had no love for them. It was likely the people would sail south into Cinibar, or across the ocean to Desuldane, or Bodelane. Still, Balien could not shake the uneasy feeling as he walked the camp.

It did not take long for a shout of alarm to materialize his worry. He cantered up to Calsifer who sat with a telescope pointed on the horizon.

“How many ships?” Balien asked, reining up.

“Thirty.”

“Are they Shalabane armada?”

“Yes.”

“A greatship will hold 900,” Balien calculated, “so that is…27,000 troops.”

Calsifer lowered the scope. “They won’t have seen us yet. Pull up camp, and march a mile inland. There is no guarantee they will land here, but I want us off the beach, and light no fires. Pen a letter to Lady Mage Aisling, and tell her there are thirty Shalaban greatships on the horizon, and we are preparing for battle.” Calsifer continued to rattle off orders as his men rushed about.

“I thought you said they would not attack.” Balien said.

“Not for reasons we thought. I guarantee this is something else.”

“Did they learn we plan to march on the Myron Islands? Could they be landing to defend their conquests?”

Calsifer shrugged, “Could very well be. We’ll ask polite-like when they land, how about that?”

“Only if you do the talking.”

“In the meanwhile make sure your tent is folded and loaded. We march within the hour.”

Days turned to weeks in Castle Jaden, and the Arch Mages did not attack. The courtyard was repaired, the Mages relaxed, and all returned to normal for everyone but the Head Mage. Councilman Lewis summoned his best healers, but no one could heal severed nerves, and Gabriel did not want them to try. Word would spread quickly if people knew his abilities were cut in half.

Gabriel spent his days practicing with his good hand. While the left was there and mostly mobile, he could not feel it, and thus he could not manipulate the Elemental strings. Earth was the only Element he ever used his feet in, looping threads around the heel to push into the ground, but the Elements were meant to be controlled by hands. Some patterns could be controlled with the mind, but it was hugely frowned on since the brain was easily distracted.

When people were not looking, he strengthened his mind to lay the patterns. It required immense concentration, but he could set a few without them backfiring. Practicing distracted him from his thoughts that always threatened to rip him in two.

His stress weighed on him like a true force. His head hung low, and his shoulders slouched. He straightened when around others, but his true nature broke free when alone. He could stare outside for hours and see nothing, lost in memories. That was where Lael found him.

“Your tea is getting cold,” Lael said as he entered the study. Gabriel jumped a little and straightened his posture.

“It got cold a while ago,” Gabriel replied and pushed it away. It smelled like cinnamon, and cinnamon always reminded him of the way Robyn’s lips tasted.

“I received a bird from Queen Robyn.”

“I don’t want it.” Gabriel winced.

“No, it was addressed to me. She requests I tell you she needs you to return to Kilkiny.”

Gabriel looked down at the golden band wrapped around his left middle finger: a coil of her hair braided and hardened with a pattern. Robyn had given it to him the first time she said she loved him. He had sunk a summons pattern in it for when she needed him, and it had been pinging for weeks. “I’m busy.”

“Her Grace said you would refuse, and I am to tell you it is of the utmost importance.”

Gabriel gave Lael a hard look. “I know you’re just doing your job, but I would appreciate it if you would stay out of my love life.”

“Her Grace seems very remorseful for whatever transpired between you.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘no one knows what I do until I don’t do it’? She finally realized what she had once she let it go.”

Lael took an uninvited seat and folded his arms. “Have I ever told you about Ceena?” Gabriel raised a brow welcoming a story. “I was married once, before I became Secondhand. As you know, I come from the north where our horses and horsemen almost rival Aidenmar’s. Ceena was the loveliest, most accomplished horsewoman I had ever seen. She could direct a horse with unseen gestures and rode them as if she was part of the creatures. I am not a terrible horseman myself, so we were an easy pair. I was eighteen when I married her, and I had her for two years before a jumper landed wrong coming over a hurdle, and it rolled over her. She broke her neck on impact, and I lost my best friend in a heartbeat.

“That same month I traveled to Jaden to test for my Class. I put all my rage into that meeting until I was certain the fire would consume me. The Council was so impressed, they set me to apprentice under their Secondhand, and had they not, I think I would have despaired so greatly, I would have given up.

“What I mean to say is, you have a living woman who loves you. All you need do is skip yourself over and hear what she has to say. A week does not pass that I wish I had my Ceena, and I lost her fourteen years ago.”

“Is everyone in this castle going to march in here and monologue me into normalcy?”

Lael chuckled. “Mikelle giving love advice again?”

“Something like that.”

Lael clapped him on the shoulder. “Go pay the Queen a visit. If nothing else, it would be good to see your parents.”

Gabriel nodded and waited for Lael to leave. With the Secondhand gone, he seized Void and promptly went in the other direction of Anatoly. Castle Jaden had its own necropolis built into the hollowed-out mountain, and he shifted in silently. He illuminated the darkness with a blue pattern on his fingertips. They glowed as if covered with hundreds of glow worms. His heart sank when he remembered that Shayleen taught him the pattern. They had cremated her in Arconian custom. Gabriel pressed the ashes and superheated them into a diamond. He would take it to her family someday.

The necropolis ran straight into Mount Brariak, one of the two mountains Jaden spanned. Gabriel stood in the opening of a great hall that branched out like courtyard streets. The center hall was beautiful, highlighted with the same green glow that emanated from his fingers. The dim light reached so high, it vanished in darkness: a negative mountain within a mountain. Set in these walls were ancient Head Mages and Mages of legend, but in the center was a special tomb.

Seated upon a large empty plinth were the ancient Mages Barbrielly and Tollen. They had been lovers, but Tollen was a married man, and when his wife discovered it, he was killed. Barbrielly reached him minutes before he died: quartered in barbaric fashion. In her rage she destroyed the great city of Roshenin. Every soul in the city had been turned to stone, including the two of them.

Barbrielly still clutched Tollen to her breast. Her stone body was frozen on her knees, holding his shoulders with one arm while the other clutched his side. His head lay back; his limbs limp around her, and one leg thrown over hers. She had bound his limbs together with cloth, and to the untrained eye he looked whole. Barbrielly’s face was frozen in a sob, her lovely curly hair caught up around her in a breeze. Tears hardened to her cheeks and jaw. No sculptor could have captured such a moment of pain.

An inscription was set in the plinth, and Gabriel leaned in to illuminate it:

“Eternally entwined until the seventeenth thread

For the stars will fall where his feet do tread.”

No one knew what it meant. A love message meant for them and lost to the Ages. The image haunted him sometimes. He could see his face reflected in Barbrielly’s though he would never express his emotions. He bottled it up with everything else like always.

Casimir Brynmor was laid to rest in these halls, but Gabriel could not bring himself to his tomb. He always tried to measure up to the Head Mage who died so he would live. No matter what Gabriel did, it was never enough in his mind.

The necropolis was the only quiet place in the castle, and Gabriel often found himself there whenever he needed silence. Here, the pulse of every Element was diminished and he could truly relax.

After a goodly long time, he seized Void and returned to his rooms. Mikelle would be coming with their supper soon, and he still had charts to review and letters to sign. Another letter detailed a missing female Mage written by the sister and asked for Gabriel’s assistance. He put it in a drawer with the others, despondent that he could do nothing for them yet. He got through most of the letters until he read one in a familiar script that began with “Gabriel, please return to Kilkiny. I am so sorry—”

He snapped his fingers and burnt it, debating what he would do to Lael for slipping it in. Mikelle let herself in, a tray of food perched on a hip, and distracted him.

“Should you be lifting such heavy things?” he asked.

“
I’m
not pregnant.”

Cordis had once told him
‘Never meddle in the affairs of women. They are dangerous and usually carry hidden weapons,’
, and Gabriel never forgot. “I mean because of your strength.”

“I’ve killed
three
men with these hands. I think I can manage supper.”

“Yes, but if you need my help….”

Her hysterical laughter shut him up.