Called by Magic

by Jasmine Walt

  I handed the mule off to the stable hand, then hefted the burlap bags and dragged them to the front door. It flew open almost as soon as I knocked, and the housekeeper beamed as she ushered me in.

  "Señorita Melcott! I am so happy you returned," she said as she shut the door behind me. "We were worried that something might have happened to you. Were you able to find Señor Emilio?"

  "I was, " I said in a low voice, in case the children were nearby. They were probably asleep—the clock in the hallway told me it was after ten o'clock at night—but I didn't want them to overhear news like this. "Unfortunately, I was too late to save him.”

  Sorrow flashed across her face. “I was afraid you would say that,” she said, dashing a tear from her cheek. “He was a good man.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. “Can you tell me where Señor Tarras is? I need to make my report."

  "In his study. Can I take those for you?" She reached for my bags.

  "No." I didn't think Señor Tarras would want to hand over something so valuable to a mere servant. "I'll deliver them to him myself."

  The housekeeper led me to the study, where Señor Tarras was sitting by the fireplace, enjoying a glass of rum and a book. His eyebrows flew up as I entered, and he jumped to his feet. "Señorita Melcott. Did you find my son-in-law?"

  "I did." I set the bags of fungus onto the coffee table. "He collected the fungus, then must have decided to go exploring after that. I found him at the bottom of a pit by way of a steep passage at the back of a cavern. I’m afraid he broke his neck in the fall,” I added gently.

  Señor Tarras clenched his jaw. "Fool," he growled under his breath, turning away so I couldn't see the sheen of tears in his eyes. He was silent for a long moment before he turned back to me, clearing his throat. "My daughter will be devastated to hear it."

  "I'm sorry, Señor," I said gravely, my heart aching as I thought of the children again. "I wish I had better news."

  "There is no need to apologize." He walked over to his desk and pulled out another money pouch from a locked drawer. "Your payment, as promised," he said, tossing it to me.

  I caught the pouch in my hand and tied it to my belt. "I wish I could have brought the body back, but there was no way for me to haul him out of the pit on my own.”

  "Understood. Just how deep is this pit?"

  "About twenty feet, and the path toward it is narrow and very steep," I warned. "I strongly advise that only well-equipped groups should enter the lower caves. They’ll need ladders and sturdy mountaineering gear in order to retrieve the body."

  Señor Tarras nodded. "I will hire someone from one of the major cities to take care of it, now that I know for certain he is down there. Did you run into Sorbano? He returned today and then went looking for you."

  I shook my head, my insides twisting with guilt. "I never saw him."

  He huffed. "Foolish boy. I'm certain he will turn up eventually. He does like to disappear."

  "What a horrible attitude," Garalina said to me. "No wonder Sorbano hated his family."

  I agreed, though I had no intention of saying that to Señor Tarras's face.

  "By the way, Señorita Melcott," Señor Tarras said, his gaze sharpening with interest as he looked me up and down. "You seem...changed, somehow. Did something happen while you were down in the caves?"

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Could he sense the power of the torque? It was hidden beneath the collar of my jacket, so I knew he couldn't see it. "I had a vision while I was looking for Emilio," I admitted. "An ancient priestess. She told me she was looking for a native mage or shaman called Ortanos, who had wronged her while she was alive. Do you know of him?"

  "The name isn't familiar. What does he look like?"

  An image popped into my head, courtesy of Garalina. "A tall, bronzed man, heavily muscled, with long black hair and strange, copper-colored eyes."

  "I have never met anyone of that description," he said, shaking his head. "In any case, if she was ancient, as you proclaim, surely this man is long dead."

  I cocked my head, bemused at his nonchalant reaction. "You don't seem very surprised or skeptical about my story."

  He smiled. "Much of what the locals believe about magic is superstition," he said, "but spirits are a very real force in this world, and the old gods who used to rule here still have power. You would do well to remember that."

  "Oh, I promise you, I will."

  9

  The next morning, I bid the Tarras family farewell, then set off on a loaner horse for the capital. As expected, the children had been inconsolable when they learned of their father’s death, leaving me with a heavy heart as I rode away. I wished there was something I could do for them, and that their mother would return home soon. Hopefully, she was the motherly type, though judging by the fact that she only saw her children a few times a year and spent much of her time traveling, I didn't have high hopes. Perhaps the father's death would bring them closer together—the one silver lining in all of this.

  As we made our way slowly through the mountain passes, Garalina asked me questions about my life and family. I told her about Noria and her prison sentence, and how I'd left home to get away from my mother's wrath, and the hole my sister had left in our lives by choosing the Resistance over us.

  "With my powers, it should be easy enough to break your sister out of prison," Garalina said matter-of-factly. "I know what she did was wrong, but she did try to make it right in the end. Freeing her would make your mother happy. Though you said that Noria hated magic, so perhaps that would be a problem?"

  "Noria hates mages, not magic, so I don't think she'd care if I used magic to break her out," I said. "But I'm an enforcer, Garalina. I'm supposed to uphold the law, not break it."

  I could sense Garalina rolling her eyes, but to her credit, she didn't push the matter.

  "Speaking of laws," I said, "it would be best to keep your magic a secret and use it as little as possible. I’m not sure about all the laws in Southia, but the Northia Federation is very strict about magic. Unregistered magic users are severely punished, sometimes even executed.” Would I be able to tell even Sunaya and Iannis about Garalina? What would they do if they found out about her?

  Garalina huffed. “That is ridiculous. Why would the gods give us magic if not for us to use it to make our lives easier? It is not for other mages to say whether someone should be allowed to use it or not.”

  “That might be true, but I’m not willing to pick that fight.” Championing the rights of magic users was Sunaya’s crusade, not mine. “Just how does this 'avatar of the goddess' thing work, anyway?" I asked, changing the subject before Garalina could argue. "She's the one who gives you your powers, right? Or were you born with them?"

  "I was born with magic, but my abilities are augmented by my union with the goddess.”

  "Is she the only goddess you worship? We worship the Creator back in the Federation, though humans call him the Ur-God. But your goddess doesn't sound like another version of Him."

  "Him?" Garalina sounded perplexed. "We do have a Creator deity, but we have always considered her female, as it is the females who give birth. My patron goddess is not the Earth Mother but a secondary goddess who partook of some of her divinity. She is very powerful in her own right, though."

  I nodded. This goddess sounded similar to Resinah, the First Mage whom the mages of today's world credited as the source of their magic. "How do you get chosen as the avatar, then?"

  "Once every other generation, the goddess chooses a favorite from the acolytes who serve her temple," Garalina explained. "Over a series of secret rituals, the avatar is gradually imbued with a portion of the goddess's powers. All acolytes have a spark of magic to start with, which is how they become eligible to serve in the first place, but that power increases tenfold for the one who becomes the avatar."

  I frowned. "If you were her avatar, why didn't she protect you from your lover or avenge you after you died?"

 
Garalina sighed. "Syris is the first-born daughter of the Earth Mother, and daughter of the stormy sky," she said. "But since all her disciples die sooner or later, she is not very interested in revenge. I, however, am quite keen on it."

  I felt the rage simmering in her heart as she thought of Ortanos.

  "Just because I am the avatar does not mean I am a perfect representation of the goddess."

  We rode all the way to the town on the other side of the mountain range, then slept at the inn for the night. The next morning, I left the horse at the stables, as Señor Tarras had requested, and rented a steamcar from the same company Sorbano had used.

  "A horseless conveyance," Garalina said as I drove, and I could sense her shaking her head in wonder. "What a strange invention. It is amazing how fast it goes," she added, noting how the landscape sped by. "How long will it take to get to the capital from here?"

  "Another day or so."

  "Good. We can begin our search for Ortanos from there."

  Right. "Where do you suggest we start? After all this time, he's probably changed his name. And if he's been killing mages to increase his longevity, it's likely that he's moved around a lot to keep from getting caught. He could be anywhere in the world."

  "Perhaps," Garalina admitted, "but Ortanos has always been very proud of his homeland, Brazos, so I think he would have remained in the area. He was unusually powerful and charismatic, Annia, able to bend humans to his will with the same ease that the wind bows a blade of grass. He can make entire cities forget his crimes, if he chooses. I believe he used that power on me to blind me to his true nature," she added ruefully.

  "Well, we can definitely look there," I said, though I wasn't looking forward to traveling all that way on a hunch. "I wish I had an in with the Mage's Guild here," I muttered. "That way I could access the library and the national registry."

  "National registry?"

  "Back in the Federation, all mages are supposed to register at the Mage’s Guild when they come to visit a city, and of course they must be also registered where they live," I told her. "The guilds also have libraries, which could have info on Ortanos as well. But since I'm not a mage, I can't get access to any of that."

  "Of course you can," Garalina said impatiently. "You merely need to disguise yourself as a mage. With my magic, there is no reason why you can't get in."

  "Are you crazy?" I balked, remembering how hostile the guards had been when I'd accidentally wandered into the Mage's Quarter. "I can't pretend to be a mage. I don't know any Loranian!" Loranian was the magical language all mages spoke and used to perform spells, and since Garalina's magic didn't work off the same principles as modern mages, she wouldn’t know it either.

  "I bet you could do it anyway," Garalina taunted. "Or are you secretly a coward, Annia? I didn't think something as simple as a little deception would scare you off."

  "That's low," I said, gripping the steering wheel hard. "Really low."

  In the end, I gave in to Garalina's demands. Partly because I couldn't help taking the bait, and partly because the library was the easiest way to find out about Ortanos. The faster I could fulfill my end of the bargain, the sooner I could go back to my normal life.

  The moment we arrived at the capital, I went straight to a shop in the Mage's Quarter to buy robes. Garalina could use her magic to change my features, but the spell would be more effective and last longer if I was wearing the right outfit.

  "You there!" A guard stalked toward me, and I recognized him as the same man who'd kicked me out last time. "What did I tell you about wandering around—"

  I tugged on Garalina's magic and waved a hand in front of the guard's face. "I'm here on an errand for my mistress," I told him. "I've already shown you my permission slip."

  The guard blinked. "Oh. Yes, of course. Be on your way, then."

  I stared as he walked away, a little dumbfounded by how easy that was. If I were an immoral person, I could use Garalina's powers for all kinds of nefarious purposes.

  "No, you couldn't," she scoffed. "I wouldn't allow it. You need my permission, remember?"

  I laughed. "Good thing you'll be around to keep me honest, then."

  I entered the shop, and an hour later, walked out with my very own set of mage robes in deep green with golden embroidery. I'd learned that the geometric patterns were protective symbols from the ancient gods back in Garalina's time, though today's mages considered them mere adornment.

  "Do you think they really work?" I asked as I walked back to my flat.

  "Doubtful," Garalina said. "They would have to be stitched by a shaman or mage with intent, and although the embroidery is very fine, there is no hint of magic in it. It is merely decorative."

  "Oh well." I glanced at the strength charm I was still wearing around my wrist. It seemed I was collecting useless magical objects on this trip—what was one more?

  Knowing it was too late to visit the guild headquarters now, I turned in for the night.

  The next morning, I donned my mage robes, and Garalina used her illusion magic to turn me into a brunette with large blue eyes and pouty lips.

  "Perfecto," she said, admiring her handiwork. "If the robes won't work, you can always seduce them next."

  I gave her a wry look. "You think you're teasing me, but I'm not above that. I've used my looks to catch criminals and solve cases more times than I can count."

  Garalina laughed. "I knew there was a reason I liked you. I know you're apprehensive about magic, Annia, but I really think we'll do well together."

  We went to the Mage's Guild, which was located in the north wing of the High Mage's Palace, a grand marble building dripping with artwork and expensive furniture. It was even more ostentatious than Solantha Palace, which surprised me since this was a poorer country.

  Just one more illustration of the disparity between mages and humans, I thought with no small amount of disgust.

  I found the library easily enough, approached the librarian behind the desk, and announced myself as a visiting mage from the Federation. "I'm visiting Randilon to learn more about my ancestors, and I am undertaking a study on my family's genealogy," I said. "Is there anyone here who can help me?"

  "Señor Filbas should be able to assist you," the woman told me. "He's our genealogy specialist. His desk is that way." She pointed to the far west corner of the room.

  "Thank you."

  I wove my way through the bookshelves and past a study area to where a wizened old mage in purple robes sat at a desk, poring over a thick, ancient text. Unlike many mages, who used their magic to give themselves a youthful appearance, this man didn't seem to care that his age was showing.

  "Señor Filbas?" I asked, after checking the nameplate on his desk to confirm it was him.

  "Yes." He glanced up impatiently at me, peering through his wire-framed spectacles. "What do you need?"

  I gave him my best smile. "My name is Arya Lomarez. I'm looking for an ancestor of mine who went by the name Ortanos. Is there any chance you could help me find him?"

  "An ancestor?" He cocked his head and studied me. "Your family is from this area, then?"

  "Yes. They moved to the Northia Federation when my mother was two years old," I lied. "Please, sir, I really would like to find out more about my family history while I’m here. Have you heard the name before?"

  "It does sound familiar," he said grudgingly. "But I don't think there's any relation to the Lomarez family."

  "Oh, but my grandfather has told me so many stories about him," I purred, leaning over the desk. Garalina's magic hummed in my veins, weaving a subtle seduction around the old man, and his eyes glazed over. "Please, help me find him, Señor Filbas. It would mean so much to me."

  He cleared his throat, his cheeks bright pink now. "I'll see what I can do. Wait here."

  I sat down in the chair next to his desk as he disappeared between the bookshelves, relieved that he hadn't asked me to prove I was a mage. I supposed the robes had been enough. "It is a good sign that
the name is familiar to him," Garalina said with satisfaction. "That means Ortanos has kept himself busy over the years and is likely still around."

  The librarian came back thirty minutes later holding a thick leather-bound book. "I found the name you were looking for," he said, his voice dripping with disapproval as he opened up the tome to a bookmarked section. "And this Ortanos, if he was your ancestor, was not a good man. It says here that he was caught seducing the daughter of a local magnate in Rialo some two hundred years ago. The magnate sentenced him to death by drowning."

  "Oh, that's horrible," I said, layering my voice with dismay. Rialo was Brazos’s capital, which matched up with Garalina’s suspicions. "Grandfather made him sound like an adventurer and told me that he was killed in a duel defending a woman's honor!"

  Señor Filbas snorted. "I'm afraid the truth is quite the opposite. It says here that on the day of his execution, Ortanos was put in a box with heavy stones and tossed into the deep waters of the local harbor. He's never been heard of since, so I assume he did not survive. You can visit the city if you wish, see if you can dig up some stories, but I doubt you will find much. Certainly not a grave," he said with a sniff.

  "No, thank you," I said. "This is more than enough information. You've been very helpful."

  I walked out of the palace, not sure what to think about what we'd learned. "Do you think he really drowned?" I asked. Did that mean our bargain was fulfilled?

  "Not a chance," Garalina said scornfully as I stopped in an alleyway to change out of my robes before making my way out of the Mage’s Quarter. "A man like Ortanos would have never submitted to such a punishment, not with his wealth and abilities. He would have bought off his executioners and had them stick someone else in that box in his stead. Despicable man," she added, her rage burning a hole in my chest.