Unlocking Void (Book 3) (16 page)

“We feel the same,” she smiled and took up his hand. “We could destroy each other if we wanted, yet we choose to exist in the same space cohesively. Oh, you must forgive me, I forgot to heal you yesterday. Pick a spot.”

“My knees.”

“Not your back?”

“I’m not ready to turn it on you, yet.”

She tittered and nodded understandingly, whipping together two delve patterns. She took her time bending over to delve and mended the nerves, keeping her hands on him far longer than necessary.

“Two days. Try and behave while I am absent,” she kissed his cheek.

Gabriel smirked which made her grin. She had never seen him smile. Maybe someday she could make him laugh.

She seized Void and returned to her mansion. Nolen was in her room as usual, bare feet propped over a chair by the fire with a book in his hands.

“Where have you been sightseeing these nights?” he asked as she appeared and went to her dressing chamber.

“You really warped that Head Mage,” she snapped.

He shrugged a bare shoulder. “Yes,” he replied as if she stated water was wet.

“You should not be so eager to ruin a person’s life as you have. He had excellent potential to be a great leader, and you broke his will.”

“He had excellent potential to be an obeying follower,
so
I broke his will.”

She pointed to her door. “In my Age, a man like you would have his hands broken as punishment. Sleep in your own room.”

Chapter 20

Screams echoed in his mind.
‘Mine? Hers?’
It didn’t matter; they were both screaming.

Gabriel bolted awake with a shout, gasping. He sat up and laced his hands into his hair, breathing heavily as he registered reality. The nightmares never stayed at bay.

He opened his eyes to see a large black mass of fur between his calves. Coal yawned and stretched, curling his tail under his head.

“You can’t sleep there, you’ll get kicked.”

Coal made no reply.

Gabriel slid his legs out carefully and deposited himself in the bath. Staring up at the wood-beamed ceiling, his mind raced. He was still trying to figure out Maxine’s motives with little success. Robyn’s intentions were confusing and too painful to even consider. Mikelle…was herself. He hearkened back to a time when women did not plague his every thought, but he had to go back further than he expected.

Grumbling, he dried off, shaved with a Spirit pattern, and fetched some clothes. There was no schedule set for him that morning, so he stole away into his secret loft.

The door to the loft was warded with a dozen patterns, and the only key was one of his rings. Hidden in a false stone wall, he only had to run his hand along the granite until it slipped through revealing a dark stairwell. He hung a light of Spirit over his shoulder, and he ascended.

The loft was the safest place in the castle. No one could shift or sidestep in or out. No one could get in without his ring. No one, not even he, could get his ring off without killing him. It was bonded to him as part of the swearing in. No fires could burn it down, no water could get in, and if the castle walls fell around him, the circular loft would be the only thing left whole. Once inside, no one outside or below could hear him. It was the perfect hiding place.

Massive, spanning his whole quarters below, it held all the secrets and relics of the Ages, even before Castle Jaden was built. Hundreds of books, many of them autobiographies and journals, rimmed the walls. Flags from kingdoms lost hung from the ceiling. There were portraits and busts, small statues and chests with relics, important icons of ancient Mages, maps, weapons, instructions, and a hundred other items.

On one shelf were six black wooden boxes. Each held a Castrofax. Three were full, and one held the silver wristlet. Gabriel would make it his mission to find the rest as soon as he had the time. Written on top were their names and abilities, information that was not wide-spread. There was the gold-and-iron Castrofax, Bloodline. It killed every male relative of the person captured. The one made of white marble with a point in the center was named Quixotic. It casted an illusion to the captive that all was well. Of course, Overturn was hidden in one. Gabriel stayed as far away from them as possible.

On a shelf, under a glass box was a skull labeled ‘Dorian Lark’. Below it was a set of ribbons; blue, green, gray, and red, labeled as Evony Mitexi’s. In another shelf was a long pine box set with velvet holding precious relics. Excellyons. Wells of energy stolen from murdered Mages. Jaden had three. Maxine’s medallion with a ruby sat in the center. Evony’s held a yellow diamond, and Dorian’s was set with a sapphire. They had been obtained after the Arch Mages’ deaths and the energy of the murdered Mages still lingered in the metal and stones. Ryker’s remained on him during hibernation, and Pike’s was never located.

Among the relics were a hundred more items Gabriel could use in battle; a ceramic necklace that would stave off wounds or a gold-dipped feather that would prevent a fighter from fatiguing.

Gabriel did not come for those. Today he sought maps. The most recent map was only twenty years old, but he needed something much older. All maps started at the Greynadaltynes and ended across the sea at the Klemnon Desert. Gabriel knew there was much left out. Atop the summit he had seen mountainous lands stretching until the atmosphere obscured them. There were other lands, other people, other kingdoms, and maybe more Mages out there.

Finally he found the map. It was an Age old and crackled as he unrolled it carefully, lacing repair-patterns to keep the vellum from breaking. Little kingdoms outlined the other side of the mountains. The land was half as wide as Anatoly, ending at ocean that formed a large bow into it. At the top there was Cendalisia, then Viatova, Peltova, Elden du Fray, Echoveria, and Shalay Le’Inchanna. A large kingdom was set in the center near the coast marked Tintagaelsing. The ocean was marked Dorna Cel.

He stood up and mused. It made sense why there was a Cendaline River and a Cendal Road in Anatoly. He had read the term ‘Gaelsin’ before in reference to a people undoubtedly from Tintagaelsing, and he had heard of the fall of Echoveria, but the rest was unknown. As soon as he could, he would venture across the mountains to see for himself.

Scanning his books he found a section labeled ‘cultures’, and selecting several tomes, he returned to the table, propped his feet up, and settled back for some peace and quiet.

Virgil sat across the table from Robyn, his chin resting on his fingers as he watched her. “You are…I believe your word is
despondent
.” She looked over from her gaze on the horizon.

“I suppose I am.” It had been nearly a week since Gabriel thrashed her verbally and stormed out. There was no word on the battlefront, and she was unsure what to do with Virgil and Arconia.

“Let me take you into the city tonight.” Virgil said. “We could don disguises.”

The only disguise she could think about was the one that would take her to Gabriel. She knew Virgil meant well, but she was concerned he would be misled with the amount of time she spent with him. Yet, she did enjoy the company, and if Gabriel would never have anything to do with her, Virgil was an attainable replacement. He was young, a few years older than Gabriel, a Prince, rich and handsome, and a man she could share a love of archery with. Even his accent made him appealing.

She drummed her fingers on the table. If she chose Virgil, Gabriel would forever be unattainable, but if she fought for Gabriel like she should, there was a chance all would be well.

“I cannot go,” she finally said.

A knock sounded on her door, and Lady Aisling walked in. She had been all the more aloof since Robyn accused her of abandoning her son.

“I have word from General Calsifer. He says the north side of the Balfor Delta has fallen, and he has retreated twenty miles inland to a narrower part of the Ellonine. A legion of Shalabane has stayed to hold the Delta, but the rest are marching north to Kinsten Kel. Prince Balien still stands, and he wants to hold fast where he is.”

“How many men will march on the Kel?”

“He suggests 22,000.”

“Balien only has 14,000.” Robyn muttered, a finger tapping on her lips.

“We could have the Prince give up the Kel, or the General give up the Delta.”

“Neither,” Robyn breathed, putting a hand on her forehead. “Calsifer will not come off that river unless I personally march down and drag him away. Have Calsifer send as many men as he can spare to the Kel. We can divide men here and send more legions to Balien.”

“It is unwise to leave the City unprotected, and the men could not march to the Kel before the Shalabane arrive.”

“We can shift them there tomorrow.”

Aisling straightened. “The Head Mage no longer comes here, and we cannot rely on him every time we require assistance. Being a Queen means handling the problems
of
the kingdom
with
the kingdom.”

Robyn ignored Aisling’s tone. “Then what do you propose we do?”

“I am interested in your thoughts.” Aisling retorted coldly.

Robyn gave Aisling a curious look.
‘Is this a test?’
Robyn sat back and stared into the table.

She suddenly exhaled a realization. “It is a two day march from the Delta to the Kel. It would take a bird at least three days to fly here. The battle at the Kel has already happened.”

Aisling gave a single nod. “Good.”

“Then why did you ask me?”

“I wanted to see your answer.”

“I can do simple math, Aisling. All we can do now is wait for a report.”

She nodded again. “Then I will leave you to your discourse.”

When Aisling left, Robyn looked at Virgil. “What was that about?”

Virgil steepled his fingers and looked through them at the table. “She wanted to see how you would react to your brother being outmatched in a battle. You were not overly emotional, so you proved your interest is in your kingdom as it should be.”

Robyn had not considered
that
. Balien was a skilled soldier. He would be fine. She had always been taught the kingdom came first above all others, but lately Gabriel had been at the forefront of her mind. She spent so much time thinking about him, that it was easy to forget there were hundreds of thousands of people who needed her to think of
them
first. As always, she would have to put the kingdom’s needs first before she could go to Gabriel.

Chapter 21

A week of training with Maxine had made Gabriel a touch more comfortable in her presence though he still regarded her as a snake primed to strike. She met with him almost every night to instruct him in several new patterns and teach him a little history. She had lived in the Third and Fourth Ages, seeing many cultures, kingdoms rising and falling, and the transformation of language. Her accent, adapted from the time of the Mage Wars in 2915, was already slipping as she adopted his.

She taught him how to summon a spirit from the spirit world—which she discouraged. She demonstrated how to kill or torture someone by psychological suffocation; how to form glowing gray armor that could withstand up to three hits, and she taught him the shroud-pattern which could hide an entire building. He discovered the pattern he worked out to shift rapidly from one location to another was already established as a blink-shift. There were several patterns to immobilize a body, be it one location or the entire thing. One called a pause-pattern would prevent a Mage from feeling their Elements for up to thirty seconds.

“I don’t like this one,” Gabriel stated.

Maxine nodded. Tonight they met far south in Parion. It was warmer, and she wore a sleeveless dress split to her knee. “This pattern sinks into stones and incants prisons. Ryker also put it in the marble Castrofax called Quixotic, as well as Torque, the titanium one. Once set into something tangible, it can remain until the item is broken.”

Gabriel nodded. He wanted to know what Torque did, but he dare not ask for fear she would know he did not have it. There were notes in his loft on it he would have to peruse. She took his elbow, and he bent it comfortably, though still protecting his wrist.

“Do you trust me yet, Head Mage?” Maxine mused.

“Can I ever fully?”

“Am I as dark as your books say?”

“What I want to know is what makes you so legendary,” he replied instead.

She looked up inquisitively. “How now?”

“Is it because of your skill in battle or your knowledge?”

She tightened her grip on his arm and pulled her body closer. She replied slowly, “I am feared because I am known. History’s books are riddled with my name. Who was the architect of Jaden? Who commissioned it? The greatest fortress in the world, and no one could name them. I am feared because my name is repeated. I am not the greatest fighter, nor the most eloquent speaker. I made Echoveria fall, I destroyed Shalay Le’Inchanna, I started the Mage Wars, but I did not do it alone. Arch Mages are feared because of the things we do together. Alone, we are normal Mages.”

“So you say the histories have glorified and made you legendary.”

“That is why you will never battle one of us alone. That is why I teach you Void.” She released his arm and stood before him. “You are incredibly powerful, and we all know that. I teach you Void and knowledge because I do not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath.”

“Are you saying you will not fight me in the end?”

She grinned. “I do not want to, no. I could not. That would leave you with just two.”

‘Two Arch Mages?’
He smiled, a true gleeful smile. “I would like that.”

She put a hand on his cheek. “Why do you not smile more? You are beautiful when you are happy. No, do not answer. Let me give you something to be happy about.”

She broke connection and laid a black pattern. A single line from the knot of strings looped up to her neck and went through a bead, shooting off into the night.

“This is the searchers-pattern,” she whispered. Gabriel’s heart quickened. “All you need is a part of someone you want to find. A hair with its follicle, drop of blood, nail, skin. It doesn’t matter, but I prefer hair. Loop the thread through the hair, and it will track the person down.”

“That is why you pulled my hair.”

She grinned and tapped a blue bead on her neck. “Here you are.”

The necklace held a small handful of colored beads. Ryker was on there somewhere. Gabriel seized Void and laid the pattern, wondering what he could set it through. He looked down and saw Robyn’s ring. It was still on his finger. He had not yet been able to take it off. Part of him still waited for her to summon him. He laced the pattern through the ring and watched a black thread shoot northeast.

“If you use this pattern with a shift, the shift will take you right to them.”

He smiled. “Thank you for this one.”

She put a kiss on his cheek, each time getting a little closer to his mouth. “I want to take you somewhere tomorrow. Meet me at the reservoir, and I will shift us there.”

She sank a delve-pattern into his collar bone and topped it with a pattern to heal the nerves. Her hand lingered on his chest a little wistfully. With a grin, she vanished. Gabriel seized Void and returned to Jaden, undressing as he went into his bed chamber.

“Where do you go at night?”

He spun at the voice, his cloak dropping to the floor as he brought his hands up, but it was only Mikelle. She watched him from her chair by his dying fire with Coal on her lap.

“You’re gone every night. Where do you go?”

“To train.” Gabriel tried to dismiss her.

“With who?”

“No one.”

“Are you going to Arconia?”

“No, Mikelle,” he sighed as he walked to change. “Why are you even here?”

“I feed the cat in case you haven’t noticed, and he is positively starved for attention.”

“How do you know I’ve left?”

She held up her hand. “Wards on the door. I know when you’re here and with how many. Are you sure you’re safe?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he replied as he pulled a shirt on. He picked Coal up off her lap. “Go to sleep,” he said as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

Gerwin Graveyard was in ruins, as was much of Cendalisia. Cendalisia stood for several Ages, but time had wasted her away. Now only a small part of the city was inhabited, reclaimed by Northmen from the Reglajae.

Ryker and Pike walked silently with two Earth Mages in tow, casting lights on the grave markers. Most graves were set above ground in highly stylized stone tombs, but they belonged to the rich. The grave they sought belonged to a woman burned as a criminal. She would be buried without fanfare.

“There is a chance some o’ her bones have been compromised by fire,” Pike said quietly as he picked their path through the weeds.

“I can repair them,” Ryker replied. “I have no limitations.”

They walked silently to a section of buried graves, each marked with a single name. Fanning out, each one searched for a name or symbol that would lead them to Evony Mitexi. Even though Ryker still had a piece of her for the searchers-pattern, it would not work on a dead body.

This was the second day they spent searching. Gerwin Graveyard was much larger than Ryker remembered, and criminals and paupers had been buried haphazardly in two locations.

“My lord?” one of the Earth Mages asked after a few hours. “Was ‘Mitexi’ ever spelled with an ‘s’?”

Ryker made his way over to the small gravestone. “They did ne even get her name right. Ne wonder the kingdom fell. Pike!”

Pike made his way over with the other Earth Mage and looked at the inscription that plainly read ‘Mitesi’. He lifted clumps of dirt out with a pattern while the women set patterns to sift through the silt for any sign of bones.

It did not take long for small charred bones to appear. At first it was a few finger bones that gave way to a broken arm, but soon a skull could be seen, cracked and fractured from the heat and pressure. Ryker counted them off as they were pulled free. He would need as many as possible to make a functioning body.

The Earth Mages worked silently, their wills beaten out of them long ago. They did not even look for escape while out of the manor now. One by one they pulled the bones out of the grave, laying them on a sheet. Pike looked over their work, making a note of which ones were still missing.

Ryker had done this sort of thing many times through the Ages. He had dealt with every issue. Sometimes bones were missing, sometimes they were smashed and mixed, but he found a way to put them together. Bones could be regrown once he had blood beating through them, and years of practice taught him to recognize every fragment of bone. Though this Arch Mage was horribly broken, Ryker could put her back together by hand—which would take a while. It was an art.

“Where do we stand?” Pike asked, pocketing his hands.

“I think we have everything,” Ryker responded. “We are missing a few fragments but I can make them new.” He carefully gathered them up and shifted back to Atrox Manor.

Ryker stole away to solitude and laid her bones out on a table, arranging them accurately. There were hundreds of small fragments that he painstakingly went over and set beside their proper homes. It seemed he worked for hours before Nolen entered.

“When did y’ ac Maxine arrive?”

“A mug of wine ago. Am I interrupting?”

“Nay, nay. Have y’ found anything on Arch Mage Dorian?”

“I have exhausted the books we held. I fear the knowledge we seek is in Jaden, or possibly the library in Kilkiny.”

“As do I.”

“But I come on different business. I think now would be the best time to strike the Head Mage again.”

“I do like your forward-thinking.” Ryker clicked his cheek. “What do y’ propose?”

“You promised me the Anatolian throne if I brought you the Silex. Now is the time to remove Robyn Bolt and let me take what is mine.”

Ryker nodded. “How would y’ like her dispatched?”

“Poison. The same way my father poisoned her mother.”

Ryker looked up from a fragment of femur. “I read she died of a blood disease.”

“That is what people thought, but my father poisoned her, so my mother could succeed her. I could give her a small dose that will make her sick, and when the time is perfect, I can kill her.”

“Y’ come from a long line of forward-thinkers. I like it. Give me a few days, ac I will make the necessary plans.”

“Thank you,” he said with a respectful bow, leaving Ryker to his work.