The Mage Chronicles- The Complete Series

by Lisa Cassidy

  It was odd, thinking of the life she must once have had as a small child. So different from the lavish trappings of the life her father took her to in Alistriem. An even stranger thought occurred to her. How different would she have been, raised as the child of a council mage and Taliath running around the streets of Carhall? No court, no wealth and glittering dresses, no formal manners. Her heart lurched—no Cayr in her life.

  “Alyx?”

  She shook her head, dismissing the fanciful thoughts. She was what Alistriem had made of her, and nothing would change that now. “Then what happened?”

  Howell sighed. “I heard rumours that your parents had separated and that your father had put down his Taliath sword and returned to the Alistriem court. By then I’d been posted here as a teacher. Your mother vanished completely. When I first heard about her death, it was rumour only, but the council eventually confirmed it.”

  “Confirmed it how?”

  “I don’t know, Alyx.”

  Frustration surged in her. “So you don’t know where she went after she left my father?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know why they separated?” she asked, gaze firmly on his.

  Howell’s eyes dropped and he resumed contemplation of the book. “Again, rumour only. Powerful mages were disappearing and they felt they might be in danger.” He hesitated. “While extremely powerful, your mother was considered... odd, by most. Nobody thought it overly strange that she left your father and fled.”

  Silence fell as Alyx studied her master for a long moment. He wasn't looking at her, his attention absorbed by the book, but she hadn’t failed to miss his sudden shifting in his chair. Her trust issues resurged, a reminder that he’d likely been in collusion with Romas in taking her memories.

  She changed the subject, not wanting him to stop talking. “Can you at least tell me what she was like when you knew her? Why did people think she was odd?”

  Howell put the book down and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “I was in my final year here when Temari was an initiate. From what I recall she kept to herself, didn’t much like socialising with others. When she did interact, she was forthright, didn’t mince words. It kept her out of the popular circle, but she wasn’t bullied either. She was already known as a mage of the higher order before she arrived.”

  Alyx frowned. Her mother’s experience of DarkSkull in many ways sounded similar to her own, yet her mother had been able to access her power from the beginning while Alyx continued to struggle. Doubt tugged at her confidence. “Do you really think I can be like her, sir?”

  “Every mage is different.” He smiled gently. “The length of time it takes to learn one’s magic is no indication of how strong a mage that person will be.”

  A little reassured, she asked another question prompted by his account. “She didn’t have any friends?”

  “There was one boy.” Howell frowned in thought. “He was strange too, in his own way, and they both must have been very lonely. I think they bonded over that. I remember last year thinking the friendship you struck up with Initiate Starrin was very similar. I know you bonded with Tarrick and the twins too, but there seemed to be an instinctive trust and comfort from the beginning between you and Brynn.”

  Alyx swallowed, fighting back tears at the sudden mention of Brynn. As much as his loss still ached, she liked the idea that her mother had had a friend like him during her time at DarkSkull.

  “What was his name?”

  “I can’t quite recall. He was one of those people who are utterly unremarkable. Nothing about them sticks in your memory. It was Hoja... no, Hodi-something?”

  Alyx straightened abruptly in her chair. “Hodin?”

  “Yes, that might have been it.” His eyes narrowed. “What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “It’s nothing.” Alyx deliberately wiped the expression from her face and settled back in the chair. “It’s just that I know so little about my mother. It's good to finally learn something.”

  “I’m always here if you have questions, but it’s getting late. I’m not going to intercede with Madame Grange if you don’t make it back before curfew.”

  She stood. “I’ll get going then. Thank you for your time, sir.”

  Back at the table, Alyx nudged Finn into wakefulness and they gathered their books.

  “I just talked to Howell. We have to go to Weeping Stead on our next day off,” she told him excitedly as they walked out.

  “Do tell?” He raised sleepy eyebrows.

  “I need Dash to get a letter to Ladan.” The words tumbled out of her. “His stepfather was a mage, one of our mother’s oldest friends. Howell said their friendship was like Brynn and me. Finn, what if she went to him for refuge because he was someone she trusted implicitly, not because she was in love with him?”

  “That makes sense—your father told you it wasn’t just about your mother loving someone else. They separated because they thought they were in danger.” The sleepiness cleared from his face, replaced by curiosity.

  “I know that,” she said impatiently, “but my mother didn’t go straight to Hodin after the separation. Ladan said they were somewhere else for a year. What if my mother found out something during that time and went to her oldest friend for help?”

  “Found out something like what?”

  “I don’t know.” She paused at the library entrance, glancing back at Howell’s office, the only lit room in the place. “But I would bet all my beautiful dresses that Howell does. And he implied that Romas knows even more.”

  “So we need to work out a way to get information from Romas.” Finn rubbed his hands together. “Just the type of challenge I like best.”

  Alyx gasped awake, drenched in sweat. The darkness of the room closed in on her and choked the breath from her lungs. She sat up in bed and tossed the covers off, unable to lie still for another second. The night air chilled the sweat on her skin, but she stood anyway, pulling her cloak on and slipping out of the room as quietly as possible. Dawn slept on, undisturbed.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she padded down the corridor, her nerves so frazzled she wasn’t even thinking about the consequences of getting caught outside her room after curfew. When she reached a door that led up to the roof she pushed through and climbed up the spiral stairs.

  A chill breeze swept over her as she walked out into the open space, but this she welcomed—the icy cold proved she was awake and no longer trapped in the nightmare. Going to the edge of the roof, Alyx slid down until she was sitting against the stone wall, tears beginning to run down her face.

  She wept into her hands, great gulping sobs that racked her whole body. She’d known the nightmare would happen again, but was still utterly unprepared for its horror. Stronger every time. More omnipotent. A dark whispering tearing through her, a malicious glee that burrowed down through her psyche and left her no way of escape.

  The sobs eventually ran their course, leaving her drained, exhausted and scared. Echoes of the dream remained, tormenting her with their dark power. She couldn’t understand the purpose of them—was he real, the man of her nightmares, or just a figment of her tortured imagination?

  Either way, they were getting worse. Deep down she suspected her relentless digging into her mother’s past was the cause. Somehow her nightmares were connected to the things she was learning. Maybe if she just stopped trying to find answers... but no, a stubborn thread of inner strength wouldn’t let her give up. She’d committed to this path, and she had to see it through. If she didn’t, she’d be a failure.

  Alyx ached so badly for home, for the time before DarkSkull, that it physically hurt. But it was impossible to go back. That world had never really existed. There was nothing to go back to. It was here at DarkSkull she would find her way forward, if at all.

  In many ways her homesickness was worse than the previous year. Then she’d had hope, of returning home and never coming back, of seeing Cayr and her father and starting her future. Now she
was truly on her own. There was nothing to hope for except the elusive prospect of finding a purpose. On this cold, dark night, that seemed almost impossible.

  “Alyx? Are you all right?” Dawn’s voice.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to jump,” she said, the joke falling flat.

  “I woke up and you were gone.” Dawn slid down to sit beside her. “My magic told me your thoughts were chaotic, so I got worried. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Alyx shook her head, reaching up to scrub the tears from her cheeks. “I miss the smell of the ocean, don’t you? The way you can smell the salt on the breeze anywhere in Alistriem on a windy day.”

  “I miss the feeling of sand between my toes.”

  “I promised Brynn I would show him the ocean one day.” Alyx’s voice broke. “I promised him, Dawn. He’d never seen the sea before.”

  Dawn’s hand reached out to close over hers. She said nothing, and the two of them sat there on the cold, dark roof for a long time.

  Chapter 12

  Two days later at breakfast Alyx received a message to go and see Master Romas. Uneasy about what he wanted but glad for the chance to miss some of sparring class, she went straight to his office.

  A clerk sitting at one of the desks waved her through, but Alyx heard voices as she approached the slightly ajar door. Recognising Galien’s voice coming from within, she hesitated before knocking.

  “After everything you’ve done for me, you know I’m completely loyal to you and the council.”

  Alyx’s eyes widened in astonishment at the sincerity in Galien’s voice. She’d never heard such warmth from him before. Maybe she’d been wrong about it being Galien who was speaking—but that thought was quickly dispelled when Romas answered.

  “I don’t doubt your loyalty, but you know I don’t always approve of your methods.”

  “I’m simply doing what I think is best for the council.”

  “Harming Alyx Egalion is not what’s best for the council. I’ve told you that repeatedly.”

  “She’s not what you think she is.” Galien’s voice became more familiar as menace oozed from it. “She’s a snivelling girl with barely any power.”

  “We both know she has power.”

  “Maybe, but either she can’t use it or it’s not strong. Either way, she’s not what you need. I am.”

  “The council needs both of you. With what we’re facing…”

  “The council needs strong mages. You’ve said that yourself. If she can’t manage to survive her time here…”

  “Enough!” A note of command threaded Romas’s voice. There was a moment of silence, then: “Alyx, you can come in.”

  Sheepishly, Alyx pushed open the door and stepped inside. Galien’s dark eyes raked over her, and she fought not to look at him, instead facing Romas.

  “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  “I did. Please, sit down.”

  She took the chair opposite Romas’s desk that was furthest from Galien, and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Galien, you can go.”

  Cold brown eyes flicked between Romas and Alyx, but Galien rose and left the room without a word.

  “How are you?” Romas asked politely.

  “I’m well, thank you, sir.” The formal civility was making her itch, though.

  “Good. Now, I allowed you to overhear what you did because I want you to know that we are aware of Galien’s treatment of you and do not condone it.”

  Alyx bristled, but tried to keep her voice polite. “You were aware of it last year, sir. That didn’t stop it.”

  Romas acknowledged her words with a nod. “We walk a fine line here at DarkSkull. I’m sure Master Howell has talked to you about the dangers that mages face out in the world. You are in more danger than most.”

  “I’m aware of that, sir.”

  “It would be irresponsible of us not to teach our students how to deal with adversity—both physical and mental. A cosseted learning environment at DarkSkull will only make for more dead mages.”

  “I understand, sir,” Alyx said. It was a valid point, but she didn’t think dead or badly injured students made for strong mages either. “And I accept that the teaching must be tough to prepare us, but that shouldn’t extend to our lives being in danger. We should be protected here.”

  “And who says you aren’t protected here?” he demanded. “Do you think those watchtowers are up there for aesthetic reasons? Do you think we man them all day every day for our own amusement?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it.

  “The Mage Council makes decisions regarding how mages are trained, Alyx, and it would be good if you kept that in mind. We are far more experienced and knowledgeable than you are.”

  “Yes, sir.” It took more of an effort to stay polite this time. His condescension got under her skin more than she liked to admit.

  “We both know that Galien hates you, and I will even acknowledge at this point that his desire to hurt you likely pushes the boundaries of his loyalty to us. However, the council needs him. We need you too, because of what you both are.”

  “Why?” she asked flatly. “The council has a wealth of powerful warrior mages, and you train a handful more each year at DarkSkull. What makes a mage of the higher order so precious to you that you’re willing to overlook what a psychopath he is?”

  “You’re aware of the disappearing mages, and I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the two attacks on our walls last year.”

  It was a pat answer, and the slow burn of anger that never faded when it came to Romas and his hidden motives flared. “I don’t mean this rudely sir, but mages have been disappearing for nearly two decades now, and the problem has only gotten worse. Galien isn’t going to solve what an entire order of mages hasn’t been able to. So what is it that you so desperately need him for?”

  Romas fixed her with a long, scrutinizing look. Alyx fought not to fidget.

  “I would ask that you have some faith in the council’s actions,” he said at last. “Even so, I am willing to place some trust in you in the hopes you will understand our perspective in regard to Galien. The disappearing mages are, as you say, an ongoing problem, but the larger issue is the attacks on DarkSkull.”

  She frowned. “How so?”

  “We’ve traced the source of last year’s attacks to Shivasa,” Romas said bluntly. “And the council is not unaware of the increasing problems Rionn has had with the Shiven over the same time frame.” He raised a hand before she could speak. “We don’t know exactly what is happening inside the Shiven leadership, or what their intentions are. But if a worst-case scenario eventuates and they intend invasion, then having someone like Galien—and yourself—could nullify the threat they pose to DarkSkull—and mages in general—before it becomes too significant.”

  Alyx shook her head. “Sir, I’m not…”

  “That remains to be seen. If you do have the potential I believe you might, then Galien will be your ally one day, not your tormentor. You will have to work together for the good of not just the mages, but the world at large.”

  “Galien will never willingly work with me, sir.”

  But Romas only smiled slightly. “We’ll see.”

  “You sent my letter, right?”

  Dashan blocked Alyx’s swing with contemptuous ease, shoved her staff aside with enough force to send her stumbling, then delivered a sharp blow to her ribs.

  “Yes, Alyx, I sent your letter.” He huffed. “Now that we’ve confirmed that, do you think you could start concentrating on what I’m trying to teach you?”

  Alyx took a breath, wondered briefly why she’d ever thought this was a good idea, and dropped into the awkward stance that Dashan demanded was necessary.

  They were in one of the high fields up near the valley wall, not far from the pools she’d loved so much the previous spring. The green grass and bright flowers that had carpeted the field then were now covered under a thin layer of melting snow; they’d experien
ced the first autumn snowfall two nights earlier. But despite the signs of approaching winter, the sun shone brightly, and both Alyx and Dashan had their shirtsleeves rolled up to their elbows.

  “Stop telegraphing what you’re doing,” he lectured. “How many times do I have to tell you? Move from your centre, not from the shoulders. Put your shoulders into the follow-through, but start all your movements from the centre of your body.”

  Alyx bit down firmly on her temper as she rubbed her sore ribs. It was the second time Dashan had hit her there in the past hour, and she was going to have a lovely collection of bruises later.

  “Try again,” he ordered. “Remember what I said this time.”

  Dashan came at her with a sweeping blow. She raised her staff to counter, almost immediately wincing as the force of his attack turned her arm temporarily numb. She switched the staff to her left hand and shook her right arm in an effort to bring the feeling back.

  “That’s not how you block.” Dashan straightened from his stance and came closer. “If you do it like that and I hit you properly, I’ll break your arm. You need to place your hands here and here, then allow my strike to run along your staff, deflecting rather than taking the hit full on.”

  “Are you implying that you’re not actually trying properly?”

  “Alyx…” he huffed.

  “All right. I’m doing it.” Alyx kept her hands where Dashan had placed them, despite how awkward it felt.

  This time when he came at her, she tried to move her staff as he’d instructed. It worked initially, but then she lost her grip and the blasted thing fell to the snow.

  “Not quite, but better.” Dashan picked up the staff and handed it to her. “Try again.”

  He kept her doing the same thing over and over until eventually she could successfully deflect his attack. By then, Alyx wanted to toss her staff into the nearest river. She also felt like murdering a certain half-Shiven Bluecoat, but thought she was biting her tongue most admirably.

  “Okay, you’ve got that down. Now back to your basic attack lunge. Remember, move from your centre, not your feet or shoulders.”