The sketchy figure that appeared on stage had a pointy blue wizard hat, a blue bathrobe, and a big bushy gray beard. He smiled foolishly as he looked around the room at the kids.
Sephi had no idea what Zekariah looked like. From all accounts, he’d been terrifying to behold. However, considering her audience, she gave him a much less threatening aspect. Her father had given her a book from Earth when she was ten. He never explained how he’d obtained it.
In the book, the author referred to magic users as wizards, not mages, and they had been described like the illusion she was projecting now. Sephi had thought the image was funny, and right now, the children seemed to agree.
A wave of laughter swept through the room at the sight of the old wizard doddering around with a confused look on his face. The illusion Sephi projected was far from realistic. It looked more like a drawing than an actual person, but it was the best she could do.
This sort of illusion required a lot of energy, since she controlled it like a puppeteer. It was one thing to create a mirror image of her cart the day before. That was a one and done spell, cast and let loose into the world. This magic required a constant stream of energy to manipulate the illusion in real time.
Still, as crude as the illusions were, they captivated the children’s attention. The flickering apparitions were like nothing they could see anywhere else.
She made the First Mage address the crowd. “Where did all you kids come from? Have you come to hear my tale?”
None of the children said anything. The Mage scowled and put his hands on his hips. “Well, go on. Answer me.”
Arabella grinned in the audience. She was a fan of the performances that allowed the kids to participate.
“Tell us your story, old man,” Arabella demanded.
The old mage scratched his beard. “I suppose I am old. I was born four thousand years ago, give or take a few centuries. I awoke in the Cradle with no memory of what came before, and I was filled with magic. The First Magic.”
At this, the old man’s body glowed with a ghostly green flame. The kids’ eyes glittered with excitement as they watched. The flames weren’t real, but the magic was.
“With this power, I built a vast city and a majestic castle in the mountains to overlook it all.”
The green flames coalesced into a simple map of the Cradle behind Zekariah, showing the flat valley floor and the Janus Mountain Range surrounding it. Suddenly, the silhouette of tall buildings erupted from the ground, and a towering castle appeared atop one of the mountains.
The First Mage spread his hands like he was showing off his creation. “With my kingdom complete, I filled the Cradle with humans from far away, gathering them from the worlds beyond Esper.”
“From Earth?” one of the children asked.
The old man nodded. “Indeed. You, and your ancestors before you, were children of Earth, brought here by me.”
“Well, then take us back there,” another child demanded. “It’s gotta be better than here.”
The old man shook his head sadly. “I cannot. The strain of bringing thousands of people to this world injured me greatly, weakening my power. After that, I was never strong enough to travel between worlds again. That was the beginning of my downfall. A tale too tragic to share with you.”
Sounds of protest rippled through the crowd. Sephi had never told them this story, and while everyone in the Cradle knew a bit about the First Mage, the details of his life were rarely discussed outside of magic circles.
“Tell us!” a child called.
“We want to hear it,” another said.
“Talk, you old fart,” Arabella commanded.
Sephi suppressed a smile. She made the First Mage nod sagely. “Hmpt! Very well. I grew discontented with my kingdom. I wanted more than the Cradle. I wanted to rule all of Esper. The Elves in the east, the monsters to the north, the Fae to the south. All of them would bend the knee to me.”
Zekariah disappeared, and in his place was a vast crowd of marching human shapes.
“I built an army,” his disembodied voice said. “Using the First Magic, I made the mages that you know today, allowing regular humans to channel the living energy of the world, which is different than the First Magic but still powerful. I divided them into groups with different colored tattoos, giving them focus on a particular power.”
The army faded, and five figures of different colors appeared. “Blue for illusion,” he said. “Green for—”
“Enchanting!” the kids shouted.
“Red.”
“Warriors!” they said.
“White.”
“Healers!”
“And Violet.”
The kids said nothing after that last one. An uncomfortable silence descended over the room.
“The Inquisitors,” the First Mage said, reappearing and waving away the colored figures into oblivion. “You are right to fear the Inquisitors, children. Stay far away from them.”
Some of the children nodded. All of them looked quite terrified.
“My army was complete,” the First Mage said. “But I still needed stronger magic to conquer the world and reshape it in my image. I stole power from the Elves first, but they disappeared. I was forced to turn to darker sources to fuel the fires of war.”
Speaking of magical power, Sephi’s was fading fast. She needed to end the story, but she couldn’t leave it on such a sour note. Luckily, the tale ended with a more upbeat tone.
“Discovering my unsavory plans, my children, the mages, rose up against me. A terrible battle ensued, and by combining their power, they tore my gleaming city from the ground and brought it crashing down on top of me, destroying me and my kingdom all at once. They buried all traces of the old ruins beneath the dirt, and they built the Citadel over it as a monument to their victory.”
The sound of a single person clapping broke through her concentration. She let the illusion go, and her shoulders slumped, feeling drained. She looked toward the back of the theater to see Magnus emerging from the shadows, his blood-red armor looking almost black.
The children turned to look at the Red. Arabella was on her feet, looking outraged at the intrusion. Her hand dipped into the folds of her dress where she kept a hidden blade. Some of the other kids followed suit, ready to fight. Sephi thought the gesture was sweet, but utterly foolish.
Fifty armed children might be able to take down a Red battlemage, but the casualties would be beyond sickening. Magnus was an honorable man, and she didn’t think he would kill a child, but she refused to test that belief. A dagger was dangerous, no matter the size of the hand that held it. If Magnus was forced to defend himself, he would.
She wouldn’t let anyone else sacrifice a single drop of blood for her. Not these children, and not Echo. With the last of her power, she cast a silent spell, and Echo blinked out of existence. Whatever trouble Sephi was in, Echo didn’t need to be a part of it. The invisibility spell would allow her to escape.
It had drained the last dregs of Sephi’s magic. There was nowhere for her to run. She got to her feet, ready to face the music. Her knees wobbled beneath her, not from fear, but from exhaustion.
“What do you want, Magnus?” she asked.
“Persephone Blue, you have been summoned by the Council,” he said, his voice booming through the enclosed space. “I am to bring you to them immediately.”
It took some effort to remain upright, but Sephi walked side by side with Magnus as they approached the closest set of alabaster elevators. The working day was over, so there wasn’t much of a crowd around the magical lifts, waiting to travel up to the Citadel.
A few clumps of people hovered near the three enormous stone circles embedded in the soil. Each circle’s stone face had been carved with an intricate labyrinth of magical symbols, too complicated for even Sephi to understand. Enchanted objects like this were the work of Greens like Echo, using magically infused designs to give mundane objects arcane properties.
Two of the ston
e circles were empty, but the third had a lift waiting on its surface. The lift itself was a round platform made of white translucent stone. A waist-high railing encircled it, supported by delicately shaped filigreed patterns.
The two young mages standing at either side of the stone circle stiffened at the sight of Magnus. They hustled aside the people who were about to get on the elevator to allow Magnus and Sephi to enter.
She turned toward Magnus with a smile on her face. “You go ahead. I’ll take the next one.”
His expression darkened. “Get on, or I’ll make you get on.”
Sephi shook her head. “That was a joke, Magnus. I mean, I know it hurts to laugh with that stick up your ass, but a courtesy chuckle would be nice. Hell, at this point, I’d take a fake smile. Maybe a polite harrumph. Even a long-suffering eye roll. But you’re giving me nothing.”
He gripped her arm in his fist and pulled her firmly onto the lift. “Is everything a fucking joke with you?”
She shrugged. “Not everything. Your rancid breath is no laughing matter.”
His expression soured further, but she noticed he pursed his lips, as if to keep his mouth shut. She suppressed a smile. In reality, his breath was fine. It was his attitude that stunk. She couldn’t respect anyone who bowed and scraped before the Council, doing their bidding without question.
The two young mages secured the gate around the elevator. Lift duty was a boring job, but plenty of aspiring apprentices clamored to fill the positions. The work allowed them to use their magic to its fullest extent, which meant they got stronger every day. When they had built up their power sufficiently, an older master would take them under their wing and the real training would begin—if they were lucky.
They took their places on either side of the stone circle and began channeling their magic into it. The glyphs glowed brightly and flashed. Then the alabaster elevator launched straight up into the night sky.
Sephi’s stomach flipped as the ground seemed to fall away beneath them. It had been a long time since she had ventured up to the Citadel, and she’d forgotten how jarring the trip could be. Suddenly, she was grateful for Magnus’s grip on her arm, which held her steady.
Softly glowing magical lights perched on the edge of the elevator, and below, a thousand specks of light flickered like fireflies in the Undershadow. Above, the outline of the Citadel was barely visible in the impenetrable dark. Its existence was marked by the absence of stars. Sephi had the sickening image of the elevator going off its trajectory and ramming into the Citadel floor, killing them both.
Then the lift crested the edge of the floating city, and she let out a relieved breath. No matter how much she hated living in the Citadel, she wouldn’t deny that it was breathtaking, especially floating above it like this at night.
The gemstone dwellings in the Crystal Spiral glowed with muted light in every color of the rainbow. It looked like stained glass in the dark. The towers in the Bronze Spiral seemed to drink in the light around them, reflecting it back in an orange gleam like a harvest moon. In the Vitan Spiral, thousands of luminescent crystals hung from the trees’ towering branches, giving it an enchanted look.
The Citadel looked like paradise, and it was for some. Not for Persephone. She had seen the ugliness hiding beneath the glimmering splendor, and she wanted no part of it.
The elevator landed softly on a platform identical to the one below, except that this one had been carved from white marble. Another pair of smooth-cheeked mages hurried to open the gate, and Magnus guided Sephi out onto the stone walkway that would lead them to the Council Spire.
“What does the Council want with me, anyway?” she asked.
“Stop dragging your feet, and you’ll find out,” he said, urging her along firmly.
She laughed. “In other words, you don’t know. Well, they’ve got you well trained, haven’t they? They say fetch, and you hop to it.”
“I’m not a dog,” he barked.
“Of course not,” she said as they walked. “Dogs at least get a treat and a pat on the head when they do what their masters want.”
He glared at her beside him. “And what do you get for defying everybody?”
“Freedom,” she said without hesitation.
The floating orbs of blue light lining the path lit the scornful expression on his face. “We’ll see how free you feel once the Council is done with you.”
“So you do know why they’ve summoned me?” she asked.
“I just know it’s serious. Minerva was most insistent that I bring you in, and she did not look happy.”
Sephi didn’t have a response to that. Minerva was the matriarch of the Red Family. Growing up, Sephi loved reading stories about the woman’s skill in battle. Minerva had fought back a Cyclops incursion in the north. She’d cleared the mountain passes of harpies. And on her first mission outside of the Cradle, she’d single-handedly wiped out a cabal of dark magic wielding warlocks. Back when Sephi had trained in swordplay, she used to pretend to be Minerva, although she had never admitted that to anyone.
Now, from the sound of things, Sephi had pissed off her hero, which didn’t feel so great. The thought of seeing disappointment in Minerva’s eyes daunted her more than facing the rest of the Council, even though Sephi’s own matriarch, Pasiphae, would be there, too.
Sephi gazed up at the Council’s Spire, ghostly white in the darkness, and she prepared herself for the worst.
Chapter 5
Magnus hauled Sephi into the Spire through a secluded side entrance, avoiding the main entry chambers. Sephi assumed Magnus wanted to stay away from prying eyes, although she had no idea why her presence here would need to be a secret. Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good.
Things done in the dark were rarely let out into the light.
They entered an unadorned passage with gray stone walls lit by ethereal blue lights embedded in the ceiling. A wizened figure paced back and forth in the hallway, its identity hidden in shadow. Sephi and Magnus walked beneath one of the magical bulbs, illuminating them like a spotlight, and the mysterious figure whirled to face them.
Sephi recognized Pasiphae, the matriarch of the Blue family, immediately. Her stomach sank at the stormy expression on the old woman’s face.
“It’s about bloody time,” Pasiphae half-growled. “What took you so damn long?”
Magnus bowed his head respectfully. “Persephone is a difficult woman to track down.”
“Track down, my ass,” the old woman said. “I told Minerva exactly where she’d be and when.”
Sephi’s eyebrows raised. So the matriarch knew about Sephi’s Wednesday night shows? Sephi didn’t think Pasiphae had been keeping an eye on her since she had moved to the Undershadow. Apparently, the old woman was craftier than Sephi had given her credit for.
Magnus looked like he was about to speak, but Pasiphae cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Leave the girl with me. I’ll take her from here.”
“I was told to bring her directly to Minerva,” he said.
“Why are you talking about me like I’m not here?” Sephi asked.
Pasiphae turned her gaze in Sephi’s direction. “When I want to hear from you, I’ll ask. Until then, shut it.” She snapped her head back toward Magnus, her eyes narrowing. “As for you, run along and tell Minerva that Persephone is with me. No more arguments. Just go.”
Magnus nodded quickly and hurried up the stairs. Pasiphae cocked her head as she listened to his footfalls fade away. Then she glared at Sephi.
“What the fuck were you thinking, going into Tartarus?” she asked.
“It’s nice to see you too, Grandma,” Sephi said.
“Cool it with that Grandma shit. You think I want to be reminded that we’re related right now?” She put her hands on her hips.
Sephi snorted. “I’m not thrilled by that fact either at the moment.”
“Well then, you’re as stupid as you are reckless,” Pasiphae said. “You should be kissing my wrinkled old ass
right now. The rest of the Council was on the war path until I intervened, which I only did because you’re my granddaughter. I stuck my neck out for you. The least you can do is appreciate the effort.”
“You seem to be patting yourself on the back enough for the both of us.”
Pasiphae’s jaw dropped. “You ungrateful little sow.”
Sephi lifted her palm to stop her grandmother from launching into an all-out tirade. “Spare me the lecture, you withered old monster. I’ve heard it all before.” She mimicked the creaky voice of an old woman. “Follow the rules, Sephi. Stop being so reckless, Sephi. Stop working for smugglers, Sephi.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
Pasiphae’s eyes widened in shock. “Smugglers? Really? Things are even worse than I thought. What happened to the sweet little girl who used to sneak cookies to me during Council meetings?”
“You know what happened,” Sephi said. “When I needed you the most, you turned your back on me.”
“Stop being so dramatic. You asked me for an impossible favor, and I said no. That’s not the same as me turning my back on you.”
“I need to get to Etherean,” Sephi said, clenching her fists at her sides. “And you refused to help me.”
Her grandmother rolled her eyes. “Yes, I did, and when you didn’t get your way, you ran off to the Undershadow to pout.”
“I left to find my own way to Etherean. Without your help.”
Pasiphae threw her hands up in frustration. “There’s nothing for you in Etherean. Whatever answers you hope to find there won’t help you. They won’t change the past. They won’t heal your loss.”
“No offense, but I’d rather see for myself, thank you very much,” Sephi spat.
Her grandmother sighed and placed a soft hand on Sephi’s shoulder. “I miss your parents too, Persephone, but it’s been six years. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for that. You have to learn how to forgive yourself. It’s what your parents would have wanted.”
Sephi shrugged the hand from her shoulder. “We’ll never know what they wanted for me.”
The Lost Tower Page 4