The Dark Disciple (The Daybreak Saga Book 2)

by Dan Neil

  After watching intently, Keia asked, “What was that spell?”

  Myrddin smiled. “Friedrich and Jisaazu had major damage to their organs. I assume you healed them somewhat; otherwise, they’d have died before I arrived. I reversed the worst of it with temporal healing.”

  “Are they going to be all right?”

  “They will need time to recuperate, and they will be in considerable pain for some time. They will carry scars from this battle for the rest of their lives—but they will live. And so will you.”

  Keia nodded and stared at the ground. Quietly, she said, “It’s over—at least, for now.”

  Myrddin failed to hold back a chuckle; this annoyed her.

  “What?”

  He conjured a bubble through which Keia saw her reflection—she barely recognized herself. One of her eyes was black and swollen, and blood trickled from a busted lip and a broken nose; her hair was tussled and oily, and a thin layer of dirt and blood covered her face and neck.

  Turning to examine herself at every angle, she said, “Fuck. I didn’t think I looked this bad.”

  He laughed. “You look alive. And like you’ve had quite an adventure.”

  Myrddin cast temporal healing to quell her wounds. Within minutes, the pain in her arms and shoulders receded to a tolerable level. Though she was still sore, something took hold that she hadn’t felt in some time: peace. She smiled and stretched out her arm.

  “It’s not broken anymore! Thank you!”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “You have to teach me that spell!” she exclaimed.

  The wizard gestured for Keia to join him and said, “Perhaps one day. For now, if you would like to accompany me for a walk, I would be glad. We have much to discuss—much, I’m sure, you’d like to ask now that many truths have been laid bare.”

  Keia nodded. There was, indeed, much to discuss.

  Myrddin spoke first as they walked through the knee-high grass.

  “I am sorry, Keia.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “For what, specifically?”

  Myrddin’s gaze fell to the ground. “For everything. For my behavior before I left. For leaving. For not telling you about him. For everything.”

  Keia thought for one moment. “I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I want real answers,” Keia said. “All this time, I haven’t even known what I was up against. I could’ve died—everyone could have. All because—all because of me.”

  The wizard released a deep sigh. “The fault lies not with you, Keia, but with me. I will give you the answers I can. Some truths are not mine to reveal, as you know.”

  Keia rolled her eyes, then began, “Why did you leave the kingdom?”

  “I believed you were ready,” Myrddin said.

  Crossing her arms, she said, “Real answers, now. There’s more to it than that.”

  He gave a weak, sad smile. “A life as long as mine is filled with mistakes. And hopefully, plenty of time to correct them. I saw a chance to fix my greatest mistake.”

  “What mistake?” she asked.

  “Long ago, I had a student much like you.” His eyes grew distant and grave. “Sweet, kind—she had an incredible love for magic, an insatiable appetite for knowledge—but she fell victim to delusions of grandeur. At first, it seemed harmless, but I lost control. Her desire for power led her to study Forbidden Magic. Upon discovering this, I tried to reason with her, but she was beyond reason. She fled the kingdom.

  “For forty years, she disappeared, but recently I learned of her whereabouts. She’s allied with Nialarix—the Wild King, as Symon calls him. He’s using her, feeding into her delusions to manipulate her for his crusade against the world. She is my greatest failure, Keia—a failure for which I cannot forgive myself. If there was any chance I could save her, I had to take it.”

  Keia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “So that’s why you left?”

  “Partially,” Myrddin said. “I want to remind her she has a choice. Most of all, with Nialarix using her, I want to tell her the truth. So I reached out—she demanded the King’s Spellbook in exchange for a meeting.”

  “Y-you didn’t!” Keia protested. “You can’t hand the spellbook over to the Wild King! I mean, Nialarix!”

  “There’s no need to fear—the spellbook is safe,” he said. “I only wanted to meet her so that I could speak to her again—I need to know if she is beyond saving.

  “But there was a complication—Gaheris discovered our communications. He tampered with the Laws of Eternal Magic and removed the kingdom’s protections against shadow telepathy. I suspect he did this to aid his attempts to capture Axl. That’s what allowed for Devin and Lorinal’s minds to be influenced. It made Genievon vulnerable—their shortsighted ignorance is responsible for the Liberation Day Massacre and Gladios attacks. All so he and the king could spy on their people.”

  Gaze falling to the gently swaying grass, she asked, “You think the king knew?”

  Myrddin frowned, as if going over an equation in his head for the thousandth time, as if looking for another solution. He shook his head and said, “He had to. Gaheris could not have done anything without his approval. Symon is not the same person he was in his youth, or even his early immortality. The day had come that I feared most: the day Symon couldn’t be trusted with the spellbook. I knew I would be exposed for reaching out to Twyla. It was only a matter of time. I had dug myself into too deep a hole.”

  Keia kept her eyes on the ground, releasing a deep breath. Tired of being kept in the dark about everything, she said, “You said that you thought I was ready. Ready for what?”

  Myrddin considered his response. “In some ways, you are like my past student; in others, you are her opposite. Her drive for knowledge birthed a selfish lust for power, while yours fostered a connection with Gaea. Many times you have put your life on the line, believing you would die. You never stopped loving the world or its people for all their flaws. That’s the difference between you two: I trust you to do the right thing.”

  The right thing. Whatever the hell that means.

  Keia turned her head. “And yet you left Mar behind to watch me, just in case.”

  Myrddin nodded. “Mar was a good man. I assume he didn’t make it through.”

  Keia’s frown deepened. As her mind turned to Mar, numbness stung her core; it spread, filling her with emptiness and weighing her down at the same time. If only everything had come back sooner. I might have saved him; I…

  She thought back to Ezra’s power. Even awakened, she had fought him after all the others had gotten hits in; at full strength, he would have been too much. Mar knew he was doomed. Why he kept going despite this, Keia knew not.

  “No,” she said. “He didn’t.”

  Myrddin’s eyes became sad. “He was an honest man, Mar, but a bit of a fatalist. In the end, I think that’s what he wanted—why he devoted himself so fervently. To die in service of a greater cause, and bring his house to a noble end.”

  They sat in silence and remembered him. After a minute, their thoughts wandered, and Keia went over what Myrddin had told her.

  “One thing doesn’t make sense to me about what you said,” Keia said. “I thought no one knew anything about the Northerlands, yet you’re aware of the Wild King—er, Nialarix’s—inner circle. How did you find all this out?”

  “Aleister Belmont told me.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Aleister?”

  “Yes,” the wizard replied. “I’m sure Mar told you about Inheritance Order.”

  She nodded. “And a great many other things.”

  In a low, sorrowful voice, Myrddin said, “Yes, he did love to hear his own voice. But then, so did we all. He’ll be missed. Mar knew he wouldn’t leave Greerwood if he entered.”

 
Keia nodded. The numb sensation was fading. At least Mar’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain. If not for him, Ezra would be the last Atlos. It didn’t bring him back, but it lessened the sting.

  “Yes, but,” Myrddin said, “back to Aleister—yes, he told me of Twyla. He’s been our best source of information in the Northerlands.”

  “Ezra said something: Aleister was the one who took my power away—not Ulrich.” Keia grimaced, afraid to finish the question. “Is that true?”

  Myrddin frowned. “There’s much you don’t know about your godfather. I know that it may not seem like it, but he protected you.”

  “Sure.” She shook her head. “Don’t make excuses for him. I’m guessing he ran off to Gaea knows where because he cares so much?”

  Pain wracked the wizard’s eyes. “He’s been in the Northerlands because the Order needed his talents there. Leaving your family behind is his greatest shame, Keia. He’s grown increasingly concerned about the growing threats beyond Greerwood. He spent years gathering information on Nialarix—and trying to find Ezra.”

  Keia hated how Myrddin always tried to exonerate Aleister. “But—why didn’t he go to Symon with this information? Why did he only tell you?”

  Myrddin sighed. “As you well know, I raised Symon since he was a boy. I tried to raise him as the perfect king. He was at first, but—I always told myself he hadn’t gone too far, that deep down he was still the same person I knew from all those years ago. When he and Gaheris altered the Eternal Laws of Magic, I knew. As long as you don’t go too far, you can always come back, Keia. He went too far.”

  “But you didn’t replace the law,” Keia pointed out. “It must be more than that. Why don’t you trust him?”

  Myrddin readjusted his bifocals, his eyes wandering to the distance. “I’ve seen visions. He will do horrific things to keep his power as it dwindles. Lady Marienne, too, has seen this. He’s become bitter and angry. Human life means little to him. It’s all the same: disposable. And with Lady Rhiannon’s return imminent, he will cling to his power like the Masters of Old. Aleister shares my opinion.”

  A scowl hijacked her face. “And you and Aleister—Mar told me what your stupid little club thinks about me. I think it’s ridiculous.”

  His head tilted. “Oh?”

  She crossed her arms. “You should tell them that I’m not some reborn form of anyone, all right? I’m finally me again, and I’m not going to have a bunch of weird old people making all kinds of weird assumptions about me.”

  The wizard chuckled.

  Heat rose in her cheeks. “What?”

  “Exactly how I thought you’d react.”

  “Hey! I’m not that predictable, am I?”

  He met her eyes and said something she didn’t expect. “You always look for the best in others but overlook yourself.”

  Wanting to change the subject, Keia thought carefully about her next question. “What spell did I use at the temple?”

  Stroking his chin, he said, “That I do not know. It was a spell of your father’s invention, passed to you—or a combination of your father’s spells used in a new way. Or perhaps it was a spell of your invention. You’ll have to discover that for yourself.”

  “One of the last times we spoke,” she began, “you said my power would come back when I was balanced—when I was in control of my feelings. But you lied. You knew Aleister sealed my magic away. All that shite about me being unbalanced, about me needing to anchor my magic in my emotions, that’s all it was: horse shite. It had nothing to do with how I felt.”

  The wizard’s head tilted. “Oh? Didn’t it?”

  Keia opened her mouth to respond, then thought about what she’d felt the moment before it all came back. Her worries and fears had dissipated, replaced only by love, which was all that mattered at that moment. Love was the reason she wanted her magic back and pushed herself to her limits day after day. Her deepest, truest emotion was her affection for those she cared about, and she wanted nothing more than to shield her loved ones from harm.

  Myrddin continued in a low, serious tone, “Do you want my theory? You may not have known it, but I think you were speaking with the universe. And I think it may have listened.”

  Her eyes closed as she considered his words. Maybe he’s right. Not that I’ll ever tell him, but maybe he’s right.

  The next question popped out of her lips. “Why did you never tell me about Ezra?”

  Myrddin grimaced. “Aleister and I were sworn to silence by Carter and Aliya—as was everyone in Inheritance Order, to protect their wishes. They didn’t want you to know—to be truthful, neither did I. I thought it would be possible to maintain some sense of normalcy in your life if you didn’t know. Looking back, it was foolish not to tell you—it is another of my failures.”

  She frowned. Yeah, that’s about what I expected to hear.

  “There’s one thing I don’t understand, though,” she said. “How did they keep it a secret from everyone else?”

  Myrddin replied, “Your parents were private people, beloved though they were. It was not common knowledge that they had four children. Your carrying and birth, especially, was kept a tight secret on recommendations from the Order.”

  There had to be more to it, but Keia had enough to process without pressing further on that. She took a moment to think of her next question.

  “Ezra talked about his Master,” Keia continued. “I’m guessing that’s Ashuram. He kept talking about some cruel god—what was he talking about? What happened to him? Who—who is he?”

  Myrddin’s shoulders sank, eyes drowning in sorrow. “He was taken by Ashuram’s death cult nineteen years ago. Ashuram kidnaps children at a young age. Over years of telepathy, mental and physical torture, and horrific illusions, he breaks them down—turns them into mental slaves, devoted wholeheartedly to a single ideal.”

  Softly, she asked, “Which is?”

  Myrddin stared into the distance. “Death.”

  After a moment of silence, Keia thought of another question. “Is that why he killed Carter? And why he tried to kill Aliya and me?”

  “No. That—is the ritual of the Church of Ashuram: to prove their devotion.” Myrddin lowered his voice. “To rid themselves of everything Ashuram sees as a weakness—of everything that makes them human. They are promised immortality and rebirth when they are the last of their bloodline. That way, there is nothing for them to go back to.”

  A wave of cold despair flashed through Keia. “How can anyone believe that?”

  “They’re brainwashed, Keia,” Myrddin replied. “It’s not by choice. Nineteen years of daily mental torture turned your brother into a mindless fanatic—a disciple of that foul creature Ashuram. He broke Ezra’s spirit and reduced him to a prisoner of dogma—unable to recognize his own subservience. Unable, even, to question his master.”

  Keia’s stomach sank at what had Ezra endured, how little pain meant to him. He fought with such hatred. She began to pity her brother’s lost soul. She remembered the nightmare that haunted her since childhood. Every night, Ezra’s presence tormented her, but she never knew it was her brother.

  What were his nightmares like?

  Keia had to speak to Aliya when she woke up.

  “Keia?” Myrddin broke the silence. “May I ask you a question now?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you not save yourself? Why did you save him, a man who wants to kill you, but not yourself?”

  “I did try to,” Keia curtly replied, staring down.

  Myrddin shook his head. “That’s a lie. You know you could have done it.”

  Sighing, Keia revealed the truth. “I—I don’t know why. I’ve always blamed myself whenever anything bad happens—felt like I should be responsible for everyone else. I’ve felt so guilty for so long; in the moment, I guess I just—I just accepted it.”

  Myrddin p
laced a gentle hand on her shoulder. He smiled and said, “You are so full of love for others, but you must also love yourself. The world needs you more than you know. There are times over the horizon that will feel hopeless, Keia, and they will look to you—be hope, be courage, be love, and you will inspire it in them. Your light will bring them through the darkness—through the lost dawn and unto daybreak.”

  Keia rolled her eyes and said, “I get the point.”

  He gave a nod. “I hope you do. Now, forgive me, but I have another question. I must know: why did you go back for Ezra?”

  “I thought about it,” Keia said, “and all I could think about was—was when Ulrich took me. Not just the LeBlancs, either—all of them, Ulrich, Giannara, their men. If I went through that with them—I don’t think I could go through that with my own brother.”

  “Why not? He tried to kill you and will again. He won’t ever stop.”

  Clenching her hands into fists, she said, “So what, I should be like him? It’s—maybe it’s selfish of me. I didn’t do it for his sake. I did it for mine.”

  In his eyes, Keia saw a swell of deep pride. “Taken by the wind, indeed. What do you say we go back? I’m sure your friends are awake and probably very confused. You have quite the story to tell. I’m sure Jisaazu will be quite jealous of your victory.”

  After staring in disbelief for a few seconds, Keia laughed. Victory.

  It was over. She was sore and exhausted, but she had completed her mission. There would be time to rest later. She closed her eyes and relished the sensation of the gently flowing wind rolling over her.

  —

  Upon waking up, Friedrich pinched himself. Laughing in disbelief, he tried to stand, only for his legs to collapse. Aliya shook her head, wondering what went through her partner’s mind.

  Nursing her wounded shoulder, she said, “Don’t try to move yet. Can’t you sit still for two seconds?”

  Friedrich turned to face her. Aliya smiled and reached out; he smiled back and took her hand. Jisaazu was sitting nearby, looking around after just waking up.