The Mage Chronicles- The Complete Series

by Lisa Cassidy

  Alyx struggled to concentrate in their first class with Renwick. Her heart still hadn’t calmed and the sweat drying on her skin left her clammy and uncomfortable.

  Shifting slightly, she glanced over at Finn. He appeared to be paying close attention to Renwick, but his left foot was jiggling rapidly and his left hand kept lifting halfway to his bruised throat before dropping back to the desk. Nearby, Dawn tossed concerned glances between Alyx and her brother.

  Alyx caught her glance, mouthing, “We’re fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Dawn’s mental voice was clear.

  Alyx nodded firmly, and Dawn settled back at her desk with one lingering glance towards Finn. They were fine, Alyx assured herself, though it certainly hadn’t felt like it earlier.

  By the time the class ended, she had calmed down, but her throat ached, her toes throbbed and she still felt twitchy from the leftover adrenaline. Vivid black and purple bruising had grown to full prominence around Finn’s throat, and though Alyx’s wasn’t as bad Dawn and Tarrick insisted they both report to the healers.

  “It’s nothing, just bruising,” Finn said.

  “He’s right, Dawn,” Alyx said. “Besides, going to class will help distract me. Sitting around in the healers’ wing isn’t going to help.”

  “We’re all to blame.” Tarrick said angrily. “Just because Galien was quiet for a while doesn’t mean he will continue to be. We have to go back to last year, when we were careful to a fault. Understand?”

  “Yes,” Finn mumbled.

  “Don’t do it again.”

  “We won’t, I promise,” Alyx said, and meant it. Even catching up on classes wasn’t worth her life.

  “What happened to you two?” Cario joined them on their way to Howell’s class. “Some sort of weird choking competition?”

  “Galien happened,” Dawn said succinctly.

  “Ah.”

  “We’re touched by your evident concern,” Finn said dryly.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled.

  “Tomorrow is Seventhday and our day off.” Tarrick changed the subject, probably trying to cheer them up. “How about a trip into Weeping Stead?”

  “No way.” Alyx shook her head. “If Dash gets one look at these bruises on my neck, nothing short of an army of mages would stop him and the Bluecoats marching in here to try and make Galien pay. Then Galien would kill him, and it would all be a disaster.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Tarrick’s shoulders sagged.

  “It’s probably best we stay here anyway, given Galien and his henchmen will likely leave the grounds,” Dawn said.

  Finn brightened. “It will give us plenty of time to study, too.”

  Cario stepped forward and opened the classroom door for them. “Since I have neither bruises on my neck, nor a psychopath wanting me dead, I think I’ll take my day off to… you know… actually have a day off. Maybe I’ll bring you all back an ale from Weeping Stead.”

  Howell took one look at Alyx and Finn when they entered the class and heaved a long sigh. “You’ll never learn, will you? What random piece of luck saved you this time?”

  Chapter 18

  The crack of wood echoed sharply through the morning, mixed with the occasional grunt of effort and a liberal sprinkling of curses. The layer of snow over the ground had turned to muddy slush and along the southern edge of the yard, the lake lay still and frozen over.

  Rothai ducked out of the gate to speak with one of the other masters and many of those sparring instantly took the chance to stop for a brief rest and watch the young initiate who could fly. As usual, his sparring partner was struggling to attack him while he hovered in the air just out of her reach.

  Fortunately, Fengel continued to be fascinated by the flying mage, giving Alyx a temporary break from his constant pounding. There was something about Fengel that had prevented her from getting the edge on him, despite Dashan’s patient training. At least the snowfall had stopped at dawn—that always made morning training utterly miserable.

  Dawn shot her a sympathetic glance from across the yard; her partner was another female apprentice of a similar skill level and they got along well. Finn, too, continued to improve. Alyx had been impressed two days earlier when the healer had disarmed Rickin during a particularly intense sparring match. The look of pride on his face had caused an uncontrollable smile to spread across her own.

  Cario was harder to work out. Most of the time when she glanced over at him, he was idle, sleeves rolled up, staff hanging loosely from his hand. He only engaged in sparring when forced to, and had managed to find a partner who was entirely happy spending any time when Rothai wasn’t watching chatting.

  “What’s going on?” Rothai’s familiar voice barked suddenly.

  Everyone jumped guiltily as the master reappeared, anger tightening his already severe features. Students hurried to return to orderly rows of partners, but Rothai stopped them with a raised hand.

  “If you all need a rest so desperately,” he said, voice dripping contempt at the very idea, “form up and we’ll have a demonstration fight. I’ll point out some of the techniques many of you appear to have so much trouble acquiring. Apprentice Egalion, you and your partner in the centre please.”

  Her heart sank. Rothai regularly took pleasure in seeing those who weren’t his favourites fail, and today seemed to be her turn to be humiliated. Not even Dawn’s encouraging look could make Alyx feel better as she joined Fengel in the centre of a large circle surrounded by apprentices and initiates. A glance at Tarrick showed his fists clenched at his sides, eyes fixed on Fengel in helpless anger.

  “I’m sure you’ve all noticed Apprentice Egalion isn’t exactly a shining example of my teachings,” Rothai said to a few chuckles and titters. “But Apprentice Dirsk has developed a high level of skill. There are several things you could learn from his technique.”

  Alyx shifted back to face Fengel as Rothai stepped out of the circle. The Zandian was looking at somebody else in the assembled crowd, eyebrows raised slightly in query. She followed his gaze, fear tugging at her chest when she saw Galien. He gave Fengel a surreptitious nod and a slight smile flashed across the apprentice’s face.

  Alyx swallowed, checking to see whether Rothai had noticed the exchange—not that it would matter if he had, she supposed. A death during training would be too public for Galien to attempt, surely. Rothai wasn’t stupid enough to not realise what was happening if that was Fengel’s intention. On the flip side, the sparring master certainly wasn’t one to stop a fight if it got too violent.

  She took a deep breath and tried to force away the fear, sliding her hands along her staff into the positioning Dashan had taught her. She was about to get a beating, and she knew it. The only thing she could do was keep her head high and maintain whatever dignity she could.

  This was going to hurt.

  “Begin.” Rothai clapped his hands sharply.

  Fengel came at Alyx without hesitation, a quick thrust straight at her stomach. Caught off guard by the speed of his attack, she jerked desperately to the side, slipped on the icy ground and went down hard. Fengel didn’t break off his attack, smoothly changing the movement of his staff to bring it slamming down into the ground less than an inch from Alyx’s ear.

  She scrabbled away from his second blow and managed to regain her footing. Her staff moved almost of its own accord to block another powerful blow, but it came in too fast and she blocked wrongly, her forearm taking the entire force of the blow. Agony swept through her arm and her staff dropped from lifeless fingers.

  Panic flared, clawing at her insides. Fengel wasn’t holding back. He was attacking her with every inch of speed and strength he had. Triumph flickered in his dark eyes when he saw the dawning realisation in hers, and he came in quicksilver fast again, slamming his staff into her ribs as she bent to pick up hers.

  The blow sent her sprawling, and despite the pain flaring in her side, she continued rolling to avoid the follow-up attack she knew was coming. A
s quickly as she could, she staggered back to her feet. On the other side of the circle Fengel paced, his staff swinging loosely in his hand. He was toying with her.

  Sweat trickled down her neck, a sharp contrast to the icy cold sludge that had soaked through her right side. The pain in her ribs made breathing difficult. Around them, the apprentices and initiates were quiet, expressions ranging from mild interest to uneasiness.

  “Keep going!” Rothai clapped his hands impatiently.

  Alyx glanced at him, meeting his unyielding gaze. There wasn’t a shred of concern in those blue eyes. Resigned to her fate, she limped warily towards her fallen staff and picked it up. Pain flared in her side and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

  Fengel attacked as she was straightening. She managed to deflect his initial attack, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid the second, which smacked into her right shoulder and sent her stumbling away again. Trying to right herself, she ducked under the next blow, came around and tried for a sweeping blow to Fengel’s side. He saw it coming and danced away.

  She despaired.

  Fengel circled her, staff swinging smoothly. In contrast, Alyx stood half-hunched to protect her side, staff rigid in a white-knuckled grip. Her eyes caught on Cario as Fengel passed him. His arms were crossed over his chest, features impassive as he watched the fight. Something about his stillness allowed her to refocus, and she straightened her shoulders. She’d come back to DarkSkull so that she could stop being helpless. She wanted to be strong.

  Fengel’s next attack came blindingly fast, the end of his staff slamming into her abdomen before she could raise hers to block. Agony flared and the air whooshed out of her lungs. What courage she’d summoned slipped away as hot pain screamed through her body. Alyx staggered backwards, frantically trying to suck in air.

  Someone yelled in anger, she thought it was Tarrick, but Rothai’s cold voice told him to be quiet or he could expect dishes duty for the rest of the year. She gasped, panicked at the lack of air getting into her lungs. A scuffle sounded, but not even that was enough to get her attention. All she could think about was trying to breathe.

  Fengel circled her until her breathing came under control and she could straighten. He was playing with her, destroying her in pieces. There was nothing she could do but raise her staff again and face him down. Alyx caught his eyes flicking towards someone in the watching crowd, saw him nod acceptance.

  Too exhausted and in too much pain to attack, she simply hefted her staff and waited for him to come. He didn’t disappoint her. When he attacked it was swift and with as much strength as he could muster.

  He’d finished playing with her.

  Alyx raised her staff to block, but Fengel’s first swing was so strong he sent it flying from her grasp and clattering onto the cobblestones nearby. His follow up strike smacked into her shoulder, then he reversed the attack and hit Alyx in the side of the head. The force of both blows in such quick succession sent her flying sideways, twisting in mid-air to crash heavily onto the icy cobblestones of the training yard.

  “Fengel!” Rothai’s voice snapped out. “You know the boundaries. No head shots!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If she’s not up in another minute, the fight is yours.”

  Rothai’s voice filtered dimly through the ringing in her ears. Melted snow soaked through the front of her robe and breeches, and her fingertips curled helplessly against the icy ground. The pain sweeping through her was so intense it made her nauseous. Something was badly wrong with her shoulder. That last blow had done serious damage.

  If she’s not up in another minute....

  Sucking in a breath, she turned her gaze slightly to see Galien and Rothai. The first looked triumphant, the other watchful, almost anticipatory. The crowd was deathly quiet. Everything hurt, and she wasn’t sure she could stand if she tried.

  The fight is yours.

  Something inside Alyx, some inner source of stubbornness, refused to let her give up. Her mind hung on the edge of consciousness, a tantalising escape from the pain and misery. But if she let go now, she would always be the victim. She’d allowed the misery of DarkSkull Hall to happen to her. She’d come back, and she’d applied herself, but she hadn’t really committed, never sought to improve her circumstances. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to be a mage, maybe this life was not what she had wanted to choose for herself.

  But she had chosen it.

  She had been born with magic, and when given the choice, she’d come back to learn how to wield it. It was time she embraced that fully. Maybe all she could hope for was to keep standing until Fengel beat her into unconsciousness, but at least she’d face him with dignity and strength. She refused to be helpless any more.

  Reaching down inside herself, she touched her magic, dove into it, allowed it to rush through her body from fingertips to toes. Using magic against Fengel would disqualify her from the fight but there was no rule against using it to bring strength to her body, to temporarily ward off the pain and exhaustion. Her eyelids fluttered as, so long repressed, her magic swarmed to life. It gave her the strength and heart to move.

  Her pride did the rest.

  Murmurs broke out amongst the crowd as Alyx pushed herself up onto her hands, then hauled her body into a crouch. She paused there, taking deep breaths to control the stabbing pain in her ribs and shoulder. Then she reached out and picked up her staff lying nearby before staggering to her feet. Her entire body hurt, and she was dizzy from the blow to the head, but she refused to acknowledge it. Fengel watched her, surprise flickering on his features.

  Looking past him, Alyx’s gaze fell on Cario again; his features were still expressionless, but his blue eyes were blazing now, bright against the grim day. She shifted her glance back to Fengel.

  “You won’t break me,” Alyx rasped, hefting her staff into the ready position.

  A contemptuous look filled his face. “You’re done, Egalion.”

  “Not until you kill me.”

  The muttering from the watching crowed grew louder, surprised and now concerned. Alyx ignored them, eyes closing to summon the focus she needed, hands unconsciously sliding once again to the position Dashan had taught her.

  “Quiet!” Rothai barked at them. “She’s up, Fengel, the fight continues. No more head shots or I’ll disqualify you.”

  Fengel nodded. He was tall and confident as he faced her, sure in his skill and ability to beat her. “Yes, sir.”

  Alyx’s eyes opened and she took a deep breath.

  Fengel was already attacking. But now, no longer clouded by her fear of him, she recognized the style of attack. Stepping to the side as his blow came through, she slid her staff along his to deflect it, then flicked her wrist at the last moment, using her entire body weight to shove him aside. She’d done it a thousand times with Dashan, and now was no different. Fengel staggered back a few paces, off balance, staff spinning wildly, almost out of his hand.

  A stunning realization hit her, and if she hadn’t been so tired, hurt and desperate she would have cursed herself for a fool. Her fear of Fengel had blinded her—he wasn’t as good as Dashan. He wasn’t as quick.

  Hope leapt in her chest and she steadied her stance, hands firm on her staff. When he came at her again, she blocked him, this time exploiting her advantage and going after him, following through with a blow to his stomach before reversing and swinging her entire body into a blow to his shoulder. Again, it was exactly as she’d practiced with Dashan, only Fengel was slower. Shock flared on his face, followed by a sharp wince of pain.

  Alyx kept one eye on him while focusing on breathing through the pain screaming through her body. She just had to hold on a little bit longer, and then she could let go.

  Raising her left hand, she reached out towards him and curled her fingers in a beckoning gesture. Someone cheered, another person clapped. Then ragged cheers began spreading through more of the onlookers. Infuriated by it, Fengel came at her with all his strength.

 
Alyx stepped back, swung her staff. Everything she’d learned from Rothai, from Dashan, now clicked into place as her confidence surged. Confused, unable to respond to her sudden change in demeanour, Fengel found himself outclassed, retreating across the circle.

  Hesitation trickled into his movements as she rattled him, made him careless. It was like a dance, as she weaved and ducked and then attacked when she had an opening. Eventually they broke off, panting. Pain beat relentlessly at Alyx’s concentration, but she dug up every reserve of determination she possessed to ignore it and push through. The cheers had faded now, replaced by a tense silence that blanketed the drill yard.

  Fengel attacked again, seeing her distress and not wanting to give her the opportunity to rest. He got in two more blows, both forcing her to grit her teeth and literally will her body to do what she wanted it to, but her determination wore him down.

  Eventually she had Fengel backed up right to the edge of the crowd. With a spinning blow, she sent his staff flying from his hands and placed the end of her own staff at his throat. She met his gaze, a small smile on her face as she stared him down.

  “You’re done, Fengel,” she said, words ringing out through the silence.

  He swallowed, face contorting into a rictus of hatred as he raised his hands in the air, a symbol of surrender.

  All at once, as if a spell had been broken, raucous cheering and clapping broke out. Alyx stepped back from Fengel until she was at a safe distance, then dropped her staff and sank to her knees, breath wheezing as the strength fled her body. Exhaustion and pain claimed her and she swayed, falling to the ground. Iron will had pushed her body past its limits and now she had nothing left.

  She caught a hint of Dawn’s fragrant scent as her friend put an arm around her shoulder, then Tarrick was lifting her head into his lap and Finn was kneeling in front of her, hands on her forehead. A rush of sweet energy flowed through her, taking the grogginess and sharp edge of pain away. Their worry and concern for her filled her mind as her awakened magic picked up the thoughts of everyone nearby.