God of Magic

by Logan Jacobs

  “Fair enough,” the horned woman said with a casual shrug.

  “The Mage Academy has used people’s fear ever since to justify killing manipulators and controlling elementalist mages and healers,” Aerin continued. “Most people know it isn’t right, but no one can stand up to them.”

  “So I’m in danger?” I asked. I wished Theira had mentioned the genocidal maniacs before she’d dropped me off here, wherever the heck ‘here’ was.

  “We wouldn’t turn you in,” Maruk assured me.

  “Theira wouldn’t have sent you here to die,” Aerin said, her expression resolute. “She’ll watch over us.” She unclasped the chain of the pendant she wore and held it out to me. “But just to be safe, you should probably wear this. It’s enchanted, it’ll keep anyone else from seeing your aura as I did.”

  I took it. It looked like real silver, and it shone even in the dimness of the ruins. The pendant was a four-pointed star, and I noticed that Aerin had the same design on her armor.

  “It’s the symbol of Evarun, the God of Life,” the elf said with a hopeful smile. “Now you’ll have two gods looking out for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and I returned her smile as I fixed the chain around my neck. There was, of course, still the problem that I had no idea how to use my powers and apparently, there was no way for me to learn.

  “Is there a God of Arcane Knowledge that could train me?” I asked. I’d meant it somewhat as a joke, but Aerin’s expression was grave when she answered.

  “None you’d want to invoke,” she warned, but then her tone brightened slightly. “The Mage Academy couldn’t have found every copy of all those old books, so I imagine we’ll find some. Besides, at its core, magic is about intention as much as it is about action and knowledge. Basic spells at least will be pretty intuitive.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Lavinia said. “Now can we get on with it? We got our mage and a guild to save, and that wraith isn’t going to kill itself.”

  “Lavinia is right,” Maruk said as he shifted the broken shield in his arm, his expression nervous. “It’s getting late, and I would prefer not to fight a malevolent interdimensional phantom in the dark.”

  Aerin nodded to them and then turned to me. “I know you just got here, but it would be better to do this while we still have the light. Are you ready?”

  By the state of their weapons and armor, I wasn’t sure even they were ready to go, but I nodded anyway and hoped that Theira and Evarun really did have our backs.

  Lavinia led the way down another dank, crumbling hallway, deeper into the ruined castle. Here and there, signs remained of the building’s former inhabitants: scraps of a frayed rug, the rotting remains of a broken wooden stool, a faded portrait that hung crooked on the wall, its face burnt out. Motes of dust drifted in the air, illuminated wherever a break in the walls or ceiling let the late afternoon light in, and gradually the smell of mildew was replaced by a drier, stale odor. There was no sound except the metallic clinks of Maruk and Aerin’s armor as they moved and the soft tread of all of our footsteps, and I wondered if my new companions weren’t speaking on purpose, or if they simply had nothing to say.

  As for me, I was burning with thousands of questions. It wasn’t as though Theira had given me a travel brochure, she’d barely told me about my powers. I had to wonder why not, given that she obviously had meant for me to use them to help Aerin, Lavinia, and Maruk. Maybe she’d wanted to and couldn’t for some reason, or maybe I was meant to figure it out myself, but I supposed it didn’t really matter why she’d kept that information from me. She was gone now, and I had no way of contacting her.

  After several minutes, I decided to venture a question. Lavinia was several paces ahead, and Aerin had taken up the rear, so I turned to Maruk, who was closest.

  “So, why are we trying to kill this wraith?”

  He averted his eyes and tugged on the strap of his shield. “Well, one could say that our guild isn’t in the best straits at the moment,” he replied.

  Ahead of us, Lavinia scoffed. “Yeah, one could say.”

  “We need the bounty for killing this wraith to be able to pay off our debts and keep our charter,” the orc went on.

  “It sounds like you’ve been having a hard time,” I replied.

  Maruk nodded solemnly. “Ever since we lost Thom. He was our leader and a truly talented fire elementalist.” Then he dropped his voice and nodded toward Lavinia. “He was with Lavinia.”

  From the way the archer’s shoulders tensed up, I guessed that she’d heard Maruk anyway, but she decided to not say anything.

  “All the guilds have at least one mage,” Maruk explained. “It’s nearly impossible to get on without a healer and an elementalist these days.”

  “I hope I can help,” I said sincerely, and the orc smiled.

  “Heads up,” Lavinia called suddenly as she nocked an arrow to the string of her bow. Before I could even see what she’d been aiming at, she’d loosed the arrow, drawn another two, and let them fly with one pull. From somewhere in the darkness came a high-pitched shriek.

  Maruk rushed forward to join her with his shield raised, and I got a glimpse of something large and hairy as it moved in the gloom.

  Aerin touched me lightly on the arm as she came up behind me. “Looks like rats. They’re ugly, but not too much trouble.”

  The twangs of Lavinia’s bowstring mingled with a chorus of shrieks and thuds that sounded too heavy to have come from rats.

  Soon Lavinia was out of arrows, and as she darted forward to retrieve those that she had shot from the corpses while Maruk swatted aside more of the creatures with his shield, I realized that Aerin’s description of the rats as “ugly” was an understatement. Actually, calling the things “rats” was an understatement.

  The smallest of them was the size of a bulldog, and where patches of the rats’ matted gray fur had fallen off, their skin was bright red with infection and covered in sores. Their beady black eyes reflected back what little light there was in the hall, and their long muzzles tapered down to hairless snouts crusted with mucus and yellow incisors that jutted out from their jaws. It was difficult to make them out in the shadows, but I figured there had to be over a half dozen of them.

  One leapt almost five feet into the air at Maruk, and the orc whacked it aside with a sweep of his shield. It let out a gargled cry as it hit the wall, but then it rolled to its feet and charged again with a furious squeal.

  Aerin swung at it with a short, spiked mace that I hadn’t noticed before and struck a blow to its head. The rat fell with a heavy thump, but I could hear more pattering feet from around the corner. Lavinia cursed as she pulled the last of her arrows free and opened one of the dead rat’s sores in the process. Foul-smelling pus spurted from the wound, and I clasped my hand over my mouth and nose as the stench made my stomach lurch.

  More rats swarmed around the corner and bounded over the bodies of their fallen brethren toward us. Aerin and Maruk held them off with mace and shield while Lavinia took them out with arrows, and gradually, the corpses began to outnumber the rats that still attacked us until only three remained.

  The largest scurried toward Lavinia, and the archer reached back for another arrow but closed her fingers around empty air. Her eyes went wide, and she looked around for help, but Maruk and Aerin were preoccupied with the last two rats.

  Lavinia’s eyes met mine, and I realized that I was the only one who could help her now.

  Of course, I was a mage, wasn’t I? Aerin had said using my power would be intuitive, but I was at a loss. Suddenly, I remembered my neighbor’s daughter and her glittery wand. Mind over matter, or magic, right?

  Manipulators were supposed to be able to create illusions. Maybe I could cast a spell that would scare the rat away. I swallowed and hesitantly reached out my right hand toward the rat. Should I say something? I focused on the faint green glow of the rat’s eyes as it made to leap at Lavinia and willed it to see something else, something that
would frighten a diseased monster-rat... like a monster-dog. I had no idea if what I was doing was right, but I kept the image of a giant, snarling dog in my mind and hoped.

  Then it was like someone had flipped a switch. The dim hall became a little brighter, and the rush of energy that I had when Theira had first taken my hand filled me again. It wasn’t as strong as before, but it was unmistakable. Points of light stood out against Aerin, Maruk, and Lavinia’s chests, and there were fainter spots on the rat’s bodies as well, except, I noticed, not in the dead ones.

  The rat that I had been targeting froze in its tracks when the light erupted, then abruptly flipped around with a terrified squeak and stumbled over the corpses behind it as it attempted to flee. It made it only a few steps before one of Lavinia’s arrows, no doubt freshly pulled from one of the dead, pierced it clean through its beady eye, and it slumped down among the rest. Then the hall was silent again, save for our breathing.

  The smell of blood, pus, and the dead rats’ festering wounds mingled with the stale scent of dust as we gathered ourselves.

  “Anyone catch a bite?” Aerin asked as she returned the mace to her belt. “There’s no telling what sort of infections these things were carrying.”

  Maruk’s nose wrinkled as he shook some greenish pus off the toe of his boot. “Disgusting vermin. No, I wasn’t bitten, thank you, Aerin.”

  “Watch it, you’re splashing that around,” Lavinia said sharply as she stepped past the orc to collect her arrows.

  “You alright, Gabriel?” Aerin asked as she turned to me.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I replied, distracted. Those points of light I’d seen on the others had faded slightly, but they were still visible and glowed steadily right over the solar plexus. I noticed that even now, Aerin’s light was slightly brighter than those of the other two. I couldn’t see anything like that on myself, and I wondered what it meant, although I knew that it must be part of my powers.

  Lavinia returned her arrows to her quiver. “Then let’s get going, we’re losing daylight. The wraith is supposed to be in the tower ruins just ahead.”

  As we picked our way over the heap of rat corpses and continued down the hall, the air began to feel colder, and there was a quality of stillness to the whole place, as though the old castle was holding its breath. When we reached the tower which was now merely a low pile of moss-covered stones arranged in a circle, the setting sun had turned the forest beyond the ruins gold, and the chill of the coming night was in the air.

  Lavinia marched out to the center of the space and a single circular stone that remained to show that there had once been a stone floor where there was now only grass.

  The rest of us followed, and as we approached the stone, I saw that a sigil of some kind had been carved into it and smeared with ash. I didn’t recognize the markings, but nonetheless, the sight of it made the hair on my arms stand up.

  Lavinia looked at each of us in turn, her full lips pulled into the first smile I’d seen from her. “Let’s summon a wraith.”

  Chapter 3

  Lavinia retrieved a pouch from her belt and tipped a small amount of fine, black powder into her cupped hand.

  “Alright,” she said, “this will draw out the wraith and anchor it here. Remember the plan. Maruk will keep its attention while I attack it. Aerin, stay back and keep an eye on Maruk.” She paused and turned to me, and I guessed that she was just now thinking about how I factored in. “You-- I don’t know, do mage stuff.”

  “Right,” I said, “mage stuff. Got it.” I’d been successful with the rat, but I didn’t think the same trick would be as effective against a wraith. At least this would give me an opportunity to see what else I could do with my magic.

  Lavinia poured the powder out onto the stone and smeared across the surface. At once, the sigil began to glow with an eerie purple light, and Lavinia backed away as she drew her bow and fitted an arrow to the string.

  Maruk frowned and hefted his shield on his arm, and Aerin waved to me to follow as she stepped back a safe distance from the stone as well. The elf’s face was so pale that I could make out each of her freckles even in the deepening twilight, but her expression was determined.

  Before I could move, however, there came a rattling sort of hiss from the stone that sent a chill down my spine, and without really meaning to, I turned to stare at it. Part of me knew I should move, but I couldn’t look away from the glowing sigil. The light flickered softly for a moment, then abruptly flared up in a ripple of purple flame while the hiss rose in pitch to a piercing wail. With that, the spell was broken, and I clapped my hands over my ears as I staggered back to where Aerin stood.

  Then something began to materialize within the flames. The first thing I could make sense of was the creature’s back, gray corpse skin pulled too tight over a row of vertebrae. The wraith was hunched over and curled in on itself, and its skeletal arms were crossed like a mummy’s while its bald head lolled against its chest. As I stared, the thing began to move, and my blood turned to ice in my veins.

  The wraith stood slowly and unfolded its arms, and the shriveled ligaments of its joints strained. It rolled its head up to reveal a grotesque face, half tattered flesh and half exposed bone, and I saw then that it also had a light within its chest, a faint speck of purple nestled within its ribcage.

  Scraps of rotted cloth still clung to the creature’s shoulders, as ragged as its flesh, and in the low light, I caught a bit of gold thread. I guessed that it must have been the remains of some burial garment, and I wondered who the wraith had been before it became the monster that I saw before me.

  The wraith’s head twisted from side to side, and I realized it must be seeking a target right before its empty sockets landed on me. It didn’t have eyes, but somehow, I could feel its gaze on me, anyway. It reached out toward me with its skeletal hand, and the light in its chest glowed a little brighter. That light spread along the vestiges of the creature’s veins through its chest, down its arm, and into its hand until its gray palm gleamed purple. While I stood there and stared, I became aware of a noise that grew louder as the light grew brighter, and what had started out as a high-pitched hiss soon became a whine that made my head pulse. For a moment I was transfixed by the light and the noise and that abysmal stare, but then self-preservation kicked in and reminded me that I needed to do something, be it flight or fight.

  I started to move just as a jet of light arched out from the wraith’s open palm, but before I had taken half a step, Maruk lunged between us and raised his shield to block the blast. The light hit the metal with a sharp crack, scattered outward in a shower of purple sparks, and the giant orc was compelled to take a step back, his shield still up and steady.

  Movement in my periphery caught my attention, and I turned as Lavinia drew her bow and shot an arrow at the wraith from her place near the crumbling tower wall. The arrow plunged deep into the creature’s eye socket, and the wraith let out a rattling howl as dark blood spurted from the back of its skull where the arrowhead punched through the bone. Then the monster whirled away from the orc to face the archer full-on with the fletched end of the arrow still protruding from its socket.

  Lavinia’s attack had obviously made the wraith angry, but it didn’t appear as though a headshot was enough to take it down. I supposed it had more magic than those rats to keep it alive, or rather, undead. If it was animated by magic, though, maybe my ability to manipulate magic could have more of an effect against it.

  As the wraith reached out toward the archer, the purple light began to flow down its arm again, and the whine started up to accompany it. The sound almost sounded like the piccolo section of a marching band slowly crescendoing into a warmup, so I steeled myself and focused.

  I recalled what Aerin had said about magic and intent. She’d also told me that manipulators could control mana. Was that the light I was seeing? I couldn’t be sure, but I knew that I didn’t want the wraith to unleash another attack. When the purple light coursed into the wraith’
s outstretched hand and the piercing whine sounded, I raised my hand as well. Power buzzed in my veins and I thought, Stop.

  The wraith’s hand filled with light as before, but then, instead of arching out at Lavinia, the light faded abruptly, and the noise cut off like a record being ripped off its turntable. In the same instant, the wraith flinched violently, as if it had been struck by some invisible force.

  A surge of pride and excitement swelled in my chest. I had actually done it. I had stopped the monster from using its magic.

  From across the battlefield, Lavinia’s head whipped toward me, her brows furrowed in an incredulous frown. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but before she could, the wraith vanished from its place above the rune-marked stone and appeared behind her.

  The excitement I’d felt at preventing the wraith from attacking Lavinia was replaced by an acute sense of dread as I realized what had happened. Lavinia had said the creature would be anchored over that stone, but obviously, it had managed to break the bounds somehow.

  Maruk stepped back in shock at the wraith’s sudden disappearance, and Aerin began to call out a warning, but it was too late.

  I had expected the wraith to try another magical attack and prepared to stop it, but instead, it clawed at the archer with one gnarled hand.

  Lavinia cried out as the creature’s nails dug into her bare shoulder. The horned woman stumbled away from it, but as she did so, she pulled her bow around for another shot at the wraith.

  Aerin cursed and started to run to meet her, but Lavinia shouted, “Stay with Maruk!” as she took aim at the wraith and let her arrow fly. Before the arrow could reach the creature, however, it vanished again.

  A chill creeped up my spine, and I whirled around to find myself face-to-rotting-ribcage with the wraith. The smell of decaying flesh filled my nose, and I could hear the thing’s rattling breath. A spike of fear shot through me, and without thinking, I struck out at the wraith with my fist. My hand punched through the tattered skin of its torso, and the old bones caved in beneath my knuckles.