by T J Kelly
"She wrote about that," I said, finally bringing up the one topic I couldn't stop thinking about since I had read the passages in my mother's journal. "It was all she could say for pages and pages, but then never mentioned again. I looked everywhere. Whatever Ashe told them, my parents freaked out."
"It affected your life. And theirs."
"Exactly. She kept talking about how happy she was to finally have a baby and how they had been trying for so long, but then it turned into long, sad pages. How they knew what would happen but were going to stop it. One thing my mother said really stood out. She wrote that Uncle Ged wouldn't understand, wouldn't let them try. She missed him. And she missed me. But she thought I could beat the odds if I learned enough."
"It must have grieved them to absence themselves from so much of your life."
"Why? I know they loved me, but there was always some weird barrier there." I couldn't help it. There was a little girl inside of me wondering why her parents kept sending her away. After a few years, I simply accepted it, but the hurt still existed. I had always wanted a close family. The people around me now filled that gap, and I was so happy despite the danger that plagued us. Why couldn't it be that way with my parents?
"Your aunt knew about the danger you faced at your ascension. Death in flames. Ashe's vision probably warned your parents about that. But seers envision a variety of things. They must have had a different view about what it all meant than what we received from Peony. They gave you a superior education. But their focus on your ability to access your magic is a clue to what they heard."
Thoughts spun in my mind for a few minutes. Mort sat silently, scanning the castle grounds as he waited. He was an amazing critical thinker and incredible agent. If anyone could piece together motives, it was him. "So their answer to my fate on my seventeenth birthday was to beat the portent. They wanted me to know my magic enough to stop the flames from consuming me."
"That may be. There is another possibility." He turned his gaze to mine. "Your father was the last of his line. There was nobody else on this planet who could teach you how to use your bloodline magic. If he knew he wouldn't be there to guide you after you ascended, he would want to teach you before."
Most magicians had access to at least some of their magic before the Ascension ceremony on or after they turned seventeen. The ones that did learned their bloodline magic at a younger age. It gave them an advantage. At least, at first. But I had never gotten there, no matter how many experts we saw, how many schools I attended. Then the rest of Mort's words filtered through my swirling thoughts.
"Wait. You think they knew they were going to die?"
And it made sense. So much sense. Of course they did. They dedicated every moment of my childhood to fighting fate. In the best way they knew how. That was the dangerous side of hearing a prophecy before the natural time came to pass. If my father hadn't been nearby, hadn't overheard what Ashe had said to my mother, would my life have been different? My heart tightened in my chest, terrified by the thought that they might have sacrificed their lives for mine.
"It is a possibility, yes."
"But why didn't they try to stop what would happen to them?"
"If I were your parent, your survival would be more important than my own."
"Oh, man," I moaned. The sadness in my mother's journals took on new meaning. How would I feel knowing I had a short time left? When I had a daughter who was fated to do something big? Important? And even without all that, if my daughter was never meant to do anything at all, that the only danger existed on one day in her life. Would I spend my remaining days preparing for her future? Teaching her what she needed to know to survive? To live?
Mort handed me his handkerchief, and I dabbed my eyes. Yes, I would. I would do everything in my power to protect her. Even at the expense of my life. Even at the expense of being able to spend more time with her in the short period we would have together.
"Having a destiny isn't easy," he said, his words falling gently on my ears. Yet they still felt like a blow.
"It's awful. I've read so many stupid textbooks about people who were chosen for some great purpose and they never talk about the sacrifices made on their behalf. Well, what if I don't want anyone to make sacrifices for me? What if I want them to be happy and not have their lives ruined by something I'm supposed to do someday?"
"There are times, my dear, that you remind me of your uncle." He stood and held out his hand. I took it and he tugged, putting me back on the path. "Armageddon is a man who is also a target of Fate. He knows his power places an obligation upon him, a responsibility to others. But the way other people respond is the true burden. He would never ask anyone to sacrifice for him, but they do. They will. Despite what he wants. And that's the nature of sacrifice. We don't ask for it. It's a gift."
We reached the back of the castle. In the distance were the chocolate lily fields where I had gone with Chas and Peter on a sunny day and had been attacked by the Taines. It felt so long ago, as if it were another life. But it had only been a year. "I wish I could change it."
"Of course you do. Another similarity to your uncle. You have a big, loving heart. Don't let this sadden you. Accept the gift your parents gave you and honor them with succeeding in your life. Be happy. And smash your enemies. That way all your bases are covered."
"And my mistakes?" I asked. We were behind the castle. The spot where I had stood when I obliterated the birds wasn't visible from where we were, but I still saw it clearly in my mind. "What do I do about those? I feel like I've failed my parents. That their sacrifice was for a person that I'm not. Somebody good."
"Listen, pipsqueak," Mort said. He settled his hands on my shoulders and gave me a little shake. "Nobody's perfect. You still have value when you mess up. Whatever is eating at you, put it to rest and move on."
Great advice. Now all I needed to do was figure out how to move on from murdering a bunch of innocent creatures. The worst part, though, was that Oberon had done something similar to those junior agents. I never wanted to be like him. Never.
Peter's words came back to me, reminding me I wasn't like the man I loathed above all. And Mort was right. I needed to stop tying myself to one awful event in my past. I couldn't push it aside and pretend it never happened, but I did need to find a way to put it to rest that was acceptable to me. To my view of who I was supposed to be.
"Thanks, Mort."
"Anytime, kiddo."
◆◆◆
Thinking about my childhood filled me with the overwhelming desire to go see Sera. She was away at school for her safety. A little like the way I had been. But I never wanted her to feel abandoned. Not the way I had. Despite my parents doing everything they could for me, it had still hurt.
I stopped by the kitchen and rooted around in the cabinets, digging deep behind the special glass platters that were set aside for ultra fancy occasions until I reached the red tartan tin. It was my current hiding place for the extra shortbread cookies the cook at Rector House sent me on the sly. My uncle and I were still in a heated battle over who could eat the most and so far, he hadn't found them. I wanted to bring some with me. Sera was developing a taste for them, too.
After stuffing the tin into my backpack, I swung by the infirmary. "Hey, Aunt Peony. I'm heading out to visit Sera. It's late enough here to be morning there."
"Give her a hug from me," she said. Then she gave me a squeeze. I loved that. Learning I had been deprived of contact with my parents because they wanted to help me made the lack of time with them, the lack of outward affection, even more bittersweet.
"I will." Glancing at the clock, I made a decision. "Can we talk before I go?"
"Sure." Peony led the way through the door to her study. I closed it behind us as she took a seat.
"I just went through some of my mother's things and something is really bothering me." I sat beside her on the couch and shared the information I had provided to Mort, and our conclusions.
"That's a lot to take i
n," she responded. Her beautiful blue eyes glittered with emotion.
"Yeah. It's going to take me a while to deal with it all. But what I don't get is why they didn't spend as much time with me as possible during school breaks. Even when I was around at the manor, it was like there was a barrier there. If they knew they might not make it through whatever they were trying to do, why didn't they spend every single extra second with me?"
It hurt so much that I hadn't even realized the impact it had on me until that moment.
"I'm obviously not your mother," she said as she reached out and gave my arm a pat, leaving it there. She didn't use any of her healing magic, but it soothed me just the same. "But I have children of my own and I love you like a daughter. Miranda adored children. She was so excited to start her family when she married your father. It was a tough few years, and it thrilled her beyond measure when they finally conceived."
"Both of my parents wrote about me," I said, emotion catching my words on the lump in my throat. "I know they wanted me. Loved me. I've always known that."
"I can only imagine what it was like to know that time was short, and your life may have been forfeit before you had ever seen the light of day. Your parents must have been devastated. They threw all of their time and love into changing the destiny they feared would destroy you. And it came close. So close. Their efforts made all the difference. But their fear, the inevitable and unavoidable loss that was coming was probably too much. If I felt in my heart of hearts that I would lose you before I even had you, it would be agony to hold you in my arms."
My parents had embraced me upon occasion. It wasn't like my life was totally devoid of contact. But it had always been brief, almost tense. Now it made sense. And broke my heart.
"Aunt Peony?" I said, but then stopped. I looked at the clock. There was time. I had time. The pressure mounted, rose from deep inside me. Something that I had held onto for my entire life.
She held me tight as I wept.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Four...
At home, it was the middle of the night. I stayed with my aunt for a long time. It took hours for me to crawl my way back into some kind of normalcy. Then I needed to clean up. Take a shower. Hide the redness in my eyes.
Instead of sharing breakfast with my future apprentice as planned, I arrived at the end of the school day. That was probably for the best. It would give me more time to visit when I didn't have to worry about classes starting.
"Good afternoon," a voice called from the main building as I popped into existence in a cloud of shortbread cookie scent. I turned and saw a woman nearby, maybe in her thirties. She had the look of the locals, beautiful and stately. "Are you here to see our little Sera?"
"Yes," I responded, taking a few steps closer. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met."
"Oh, no. My apologies. I'm one of her teachers, Gratia."
"Nice to meet you, Gratia." Her name meant grace, although I wasn't sure if it was her magician name or family name. When we shook hands, I sensed she was an alchemist and decided it was likely her given name.
"My honor, madam. Sera speaks about you all the time. I feel almost as if I know you," she replied. We walked down the steps towards the playground where Sera spent her free time during and after class. "And I see you in the papers. But it's hard to know what is true and what isn't."
"Oh, that's easy. All the good stuff is true, and the bad things are lies."
Gratia laughed. "Ah, that makes sense." She opened a small gate, and we slipped through. I spied my little apprentice in the distance, at the center of a group of boys and girls her age. "I hope you don't mind me discussing some things with you on the way to join your lovely ward?"
I studied the woman for a moment. Her aura showed honesty and curiosity. There was an openness about her gaze that I liked. "Sure. Fire away." Tons of magicians insisted on interacting with alchemists on a more formal basis, but that seemed stupid to me. She was a teacher and deserved my respect. If she wanted a relaxed, informal chat, I was fine with that.
"Sera is such a sweet girl. A true delight to teach." We wandered over to a small bench beneath a tree where we could sit and observe the children at play. "She's very intelligent. I can tell that she comes from a home that encourages her."
"Thank you," I said. "Her father was an incredible man. He had done so much for her before he passed away. I'm afraid I can't take the credit for how awesome she is. But I'm doing my best to live up to his example."
She had complimented me, and I responded honestly. But it wasn't until she gave the slightest nod of approval that I realized she had been testing me. Well, that was fine. I didn't mind. Not when any of the alchemists did it. It meant they cared about Sera, and that was all I wanted for her.
"Several of us have been in discussions with Poltens Sanator," she said. I got the feeling she wasn't referring to a group of teachers. "He has vouched for you and says we can trust you."
Definitely not about Sera's curriculum. "I'm honored by his faith in me."
"There have been instances, here and abroad, that we think you may want to know."
It couldn't be easy for her. Usually an Irregular approached their assets. And CEOs of large corporations like mine weren't exactly all that available to everyone, either. "I'd like to hear about them and help if I can." I shouldn't make blind promises, but it rarely caught me out.
"Some of our top alchemists have vanished. All but two of them have shown back up in the employ of dark magician families. In our culture, we have different criteria for our work. Our personal balance does not dictate who we serve on contract." Although I knew that light alchemists only worked as long as they knew they weren't directly contributing to the harm of others.
"Yes, I have heard that. My father has many alchemists under contract. Their skills are the basis for their employment, not their balance." It wasn't like that everywhere. Not a lot of magicians wanted to work with an alchemist that leaned into the dark side in what they considered too much of a percentage. But we employed anyone who wasn't tilted completely into the dark. We had a lot of Dark in our spells at Rector Enterprises. An alchemist with forty percent darkness in their balance wasn't a liability for us.
"They are not working voluntarily." Gratia shifted on the bench, turning her body towards mine, a beseeching look in her dark eyes. "They're under a prohibition spell and none have been able to speak about it or get a message out. We have some workers in the dark clans who have access to the contracts. The spellwork on them is worse than we have ever seen."
"Do you know what they are working on?"
"Not yet."
"Do you need help? I have contacts and assets everywhere. I can ask them."
"Thank you, milady," she said. Her body remained tense, leaning in close so she could keep her voice down. "We may need you in the future, but for now have enough people positioned to gather information. They have asked me to see if there was a way to set up a discreet form of communication with you. And what to do if we need your help."
Our encounter was intense, but not really any different from usual for an agent. "Here, take my card. I've cast a spell on it. All you need to do is write a message on the back and I will get it. Depending on what you need, I can arrange for somebody to reach out to you wherever you are. If it's an emergency, you can use Sera's bracelet to alert me. And I will come. Let me show you how it works."
We went through the process for different ways to communicate. I skipped how to contact local agents and support staff. I knew Gratia had approached me because I had earned the trust of the alchemists. That meant they may not be willing to speak to other agents what they would openly tell me. I explained how to trigger the crystal on Sera's necklace that linked to my bracelet.
"I can't thank you enough," she murmured as we stood.
"It's no problem. I'm happy to help in any way I can." We began our walk to where the children were wrapping up their play. Soon it would be time for tea. "If you don't mind my asking
, what happened to the two alchemists who refused to work with a dark clan?"
Gratia shuddered. "Both had been with their families, who are here at the healing center to treat their trauma. I was told members of the Taine clan attacked them. One moment the men were there. The next, their entire beings had been dissolved into a whirling, tearing storm made of Dark."
Vanesco. Oberon Taine had used that spell on more than the junior agents. "I see. Thank you for telling me. Armageddon will want to know. If you hear about any other instances, please send me a message right away."
As Gratia nodded her agreement, Sera spotted us standing nearby. "Lia!" she shouted and ran to us.
I crouched down and gave her a huge hug. Then I used Earth to push the two of us up, catching some Air, floating in an upright position as I spun her around in circles. She laughed, squealing in delight.
"Have you been growing again, sweet pea?" I asked. I would swear she was a little taller than the last time I had seen her only a few days before. "Soon, you'll be such a big girl, you'll be the one swinging me around."
Sera giggled. "I am a big girl," she said in her sweet, high voice.
"Yes, you are. But not so much that I can't give you a piggyback ride." I propped her up on my back, using bands of Air to secure her to me. I was always afraid I would drop her if I didn't use the elements like a seat belt. "Say goodbye to your teacher. I've brought cookies and I'm starving."
"Bye Ms. Gratia," she said.
"See you tomorrow, Sera," her teacher replied.
Then Sera tugged on my hair, demanding I run. "It was nice meeting you," I called as I took off. I didn't say more. There was no telling who might overhear.
◆◆◆
"So there are two more victims of the Vanesco spell," Armageddon said. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on his desk while he thought it over. "I'll have the analysts collect their information. Their disappearance is more than a distraction during battle."