The Mage Chronicles- The Complete Series

by Lisa Cassidy

  Alyx’s eyebrows rose. She hadn’t known about the increasing number of troops, although it made sense. It wasn’t surprising Casovar hadn’t told them, but it was hard not to be irritated that her father hadn’t.

  “I consider it unlikely,” Casovar disagreed. “Shivasa has a large army and their leader prioritises resourcing the military over most other things. If the unrest isn’t yet organised or overly violent, they still have plenty of soldiers to throw at us.”

  “But in the long term, we could expect that to happen,” Garan pushed. “Particularly if resources going to the military lead to food or other basic supply shortages.”

  “Not if the Shiven leader gets the unrest under control. Their military is frighteningly efficient at putting down dissidents.”

  Alyx hated to agree with Casovar, but what she’d learned in Master Alaria’s class indicated he was likely right. “Are there mages involved?” she asked Rostan.

  “We don’t know.” Rostan shrugged.

  “You think that might be the case, Alyx?” the king asked.

  “There are Shiven mages.” She nodded. “And not all of them are trained at DarkSkull Hall by the council.”

  “Those are uncorroborated reports,” Casovar dismissed her.

  “With all due respect, sir, they’re more than uncorroborated reports.”

  “How so?” the king asked as Casovar’s frown deepened.

  She ignored the lord-mage and focused on the king. “During my time at DarkSkull, there were several attacks on the school. Most of them involved conventional weapons as well as mage power. The mages involved were Shiven, and hadn’t been trained at DarkSkull. Logic would imply they were trained in Shivasa.”

  “King Mastaran mentioned the attacks when we were in Carhall,” Darien said, glancing at Garan. “Lord-Mage Casovar feels that the council was exaggerating the danger they face.”

  “It gives them excellent reason to charge more for their services,” Casovar said smoothly.

  Alyx opened her mouth to rebut him, but her father’s hand shifted to rest lightly on her forearm. Instead of speaking, she simply nodded in Casovar’s direction.

  “Thank you, Alyx, Lord-Mage,” the king said. “Rostan, can your militia scouts determine whether mages are involved? If the Shiven army has to devote resources to subduing mages, then they’ll have to commit a lot more troops than if they’re just dealing with unhappy farmers, which might mean relief for us in the north.”

  “Of course, Your Highness.” Rostan nodded.

  “Garan, speak to Sparky and ensure our scouts are doing what they can to learn about what’s happening in Shivasa also.”

  “I’ll do it today.”

  “Your Highness, whatever the case, I don’t think we can afford to relax our vigilance in the disputed area,” Casovar said.

  “I agree.” The king waved a hand in dismissal. “Let’s pick this up later when we have more information.”

  Casovar gestured for Alyx to follow him as they left. She gave a little wave to her father, comforted by the fact he was remaining in the king’s audience chamber while the rest of them left.

  “In the future, please refrain from offering unsolicited opinions in formal meetings, Apprentice.”

  She took a breath, swallowed. “I apologise, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “I want you to go back and write a message to your friends. Given this development, I’ll need them to remain where they are a few extra weeks. They can be of assistance in ascertaining what effect the unrest in Shivasa has on their troop build-up.”

  A sharp slide of disappointment went through her. She’d been looking forward to her friends’ return. They’d been gone almost two weeks already and she missed them. “Yes, sir.”

  “Something wrong?” he snapped.

  She schooled her face to calm. “Not at all. I’ll write the letter now.”

  “Make sure it’s done by this evening.”

  He left then, mage robe swirling around his ankles as he moved with quick, decisive strides in the opposite direction of his offices. Slowly she uncurled her fists, taking deep breaths to calm her restrained anger. She wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to be able to swallow her temper around him. Whatever her father was up to, she hoped it happened before she lost it entirely.

  When the nightmare inevitably came again it grabbed her from a sound sleep. The dark mage’s power held her effortlessly, but this time there was no attempt to cause pain. Alyx stilled in his grasp, everything inside her balled up tightly, waiting for what horror would come next.

  “The destruction I showed you... have you ever considered that it might be necessary?”

  Confusion stirred. The voice was the same, a whisper of thought that raked over her mind, but he was holding back, not actively trying to cause pain. Was he trying to have a conversation with her? That thought was somehow more terrifying than if he’d just been trying to hurt and scare her.

  “I know you heard me.”

  Somehow she summoned the bravery to reply, and stunningly he allowed her enough use of her magic to do it. “Destruction on the level you showed me is never necessary.”

  “That is a naïve point of view. You’ve learned better than that.”

  “Why is it necessary?” Her voice remained tentative, expecting the pain and fear to be unleashed any second. But if she humoured him, maybe he’d tell her something useful.

  There was a considering silence, although Alyx was left in no doubt of his dominant hold over her. His magic suffocated hers, allowing only enough for a trickle of telepathic magic.

  “You’ve seen the true face of the Mage Council.”

  “You want to destroy the world because of the council?” Surely not.

  He laughed then, and she winced as it reverberated through her skull. “Foolish girl. I don’t want to destroy the world. I want to destroy the Mage Council and everything it stands for. I want to protect those the council wishes to destroy.” A beat of silence, then: “Think about that. Then think about which side of this fight you’d really like to be on.”

  He was gone then, catapulting Alyx into wakefulness. She sat up in bed, gasping, sweat plastering her nightdress to her skin. Instinctively she summoned magic, using its green glow to dispel the shadows in her room. It was a long time before her rapid heartbeat settled and she’d calmed enough to curl back under the covers.

  Who was this mage? And could he really want the same thing she did?

  Chapter 15

  Alyx made her way to the Cuttlefish Inn, taking the long route and ensuring that she wasn’t followed. It wasn’t quite midday, and the inn was mostly empty as she entered, ordered herself a cider and sat at a table in the corner of the room.

  “Where’s that big hulking warrior of yours?”

  Alyx jumped at the sound of Brynn’s voice—despite the fact that she had a full view of the inn from her table, he’d still managed to arrive without her noticing.

  “Away from the city,” she said. “Nice mental shielding.”

  “I’m a spy,” he said in an exaggerated whisper.

  “One with a notoriously sloppy shield,” she said grumpily, annoyed he’d gotten the best of her. “You’re also late. Why are we meeting here?”

  “You said no secretive back rooms, so here we are at a table in full public view,” Brynn said, taking a sip of his ale. “Have you ever read my thoughts?”

  “Only when you’ve deliberately left them open to me.”

  Brynn appeared to consider this. “I don’t know if I would have that sort of self-restraint.”

  “I don’t think you would either,” she said dryly. “You don’t seem to have any problems using your power to force people to do what you want.”

  “Ouch.” He winced. “My power isn’t that strong, you know. I can only influence people to do what I want, not force them.”

  Alyx shrugged. “I don’t want to know what people’s private thoughts are. I imagine how I would feel if someone read m
y thoughts, and that’s what makes me hate the idea of doing it to others.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.” She tried to keep the impatience from her voice. “Do you have anything for me, or are we meeting for fun?”

  “I have nothing,” Brynn announced. “Which means I have a lot.”

  She bit back her annoyance with an effort. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He grinned at her, then turned serious. “I can’t find any of Lord-Mage Casovar’s informants. I don’t know who he is getting his information from, and therefore I don’t know where they are getting their information from. So I can’t tell you how credible his information is.”

  Alyx stared at him. “It’s been two weeks since I asked you to do this.”

  “I know, and I’ve been working hard, I promise you.”

  “What about the Mage Guard?”

  “There I’ve had marginally better luck.” He leaned closer. “I’ve followed them on two night patrols through the poor quarter. On the first, they were rude and rough—don’t ask me how they think anyone is going to give them information when they behave like poorly trained thugs, but—”

  “Brynn!”

  “Right. Sorry. The second time was more interesting.” His voice lowered. “This patrol was heavily armed and they were more determined and focused than the other lot. I was preparing to see something like what you’ve described, but when they entered the street that looked to be their destination they ran into a unit of city guard.”

  “And?”

  “That was it. The City Guardsmen claimed to be undertaking an investigation into a smuggling ring—they thought one of the houses in the street was a storage location for illegal goods. From what I overheard, the Mage Guard captain was irritated, but agreed not to interfere with the City Guard investigation and called his unit back. They left and went back to barracks.” Brynn took a sip of ale. “Interesting thing was, not long after they left, the unit of City Guard cleared out too. All of them.”

  Alyx’s eyes narrowed as the implications of that hit her. “If the City Guard thought there was a smuggling house in that street, there would be a constant watch on it. A discreet one, but they wouldn’t leave it unguarded.”

  “Exactly what I would have assumed, so I checked. That street was empty. I went back the next day—same thing, no guardsmen anywhere, not even any hidden ones keeping an eye on the house.”

  “So they were lying to the Mage Guard. Why?”

  “Not a clue.” He took another sip of ale. “Stopped whatever the Mage Guard were about to do though, didn’t it?”

  It certainly had. And it had stopped it without a direct confrontation, or any implication that someone might have been trying to do just that. Her father. She rubbed at her eyes—or maybe it was just sheer coincidence. “Keep looking into it, will you? And Casovar as well. He has to be getting his information from somewhere.”

  He nodded, then hesitated. “You should know. I’ve passed all this on to the council.”

  “That’s fine,” she said. “As little as I trust them, I don’t think it’s a bad thing if others are looking into Casovar as well.”

  “I agree,” he said, then changed the subject. “Any more of those nightmares of yours?”

  She winced. “Last night, actually.”

  “I thought you looked a little pale. What happened?”

  “He... ” She hesitated, reluctant to say it out loud. “He talked to me.”

  Shock filled Brynn’s boyish face. “About what? The weather?”

  “It was all a bit vague. One thing was clear—he wants to destroy the Mage Council. The hatred I felt in his thoughts... it was corrosive, bitter.” Alyx swallowed, her stomach turning at the memory.

  “That’s good. It’s a piece of information on him. We had nothing before.”

  “That’s true,” she admitted. “But I think I preferred it when he was just trying to scare and hurt me. I don’t want to be holding conversations with a presumably crazy and incredibly powerful dark telepathic mage.” She shuddered involuntarily.

  “Darkmage,” Brynn murmured, mostly to himself.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head. “Your words reminded me of the theory you said Finn had come up with, that maybe Shakar had the ability to cause nightmares. They used to call him Darkmage, you know?”

  “Shakar?”

  He nodded. “Not the council. But it was a nickname used by survivors in villages and towns he’d destroyed. In most accounts written by people at the time who weren’t mages, that’s how they referred to him.”

  “Maybe this mage has read those accounts—maybe he idealises Shakar somehow because he fought the council too?” Alyx suggested. “Whoever it is, Astor thinks he must know me to be able to reach my mind here and at DarkSkull.”

  “Not a warming thought.” Brynn made a face. “But if it happens again, try to focus on using the nightmare as a way of getting information. The more he tells you, the closer we’ll be to working out who he is, and where.”

  She nodded—he was right. “I’ll try.”

  “And we could try making a list,” he suggested. “Everyone we know from DarkSkull who would have reason to travel in this region or is strong enough to reach further with their telepathy, or both.”

  “We could,” she said, dubious, “but I don’t know how helpful it would be. The only telepath we know at DarkSkull strong enough to reach me here is Romas, and we don’t even know if he is that strong.”

  His face fell. “Right. And you talked to Howell about this too? So if he knew of a telepath that powerful, he would have told you.”

  “Maybe.”

  Brynn finished his ale and rose. “I’ll keep thinking on it. I still believe this could help us. Be careful, Alyx. Same time, same place, next week?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Alyx turned over the paper she’d just finished reading and added it to the ever-growing pile. Letting out a bored sigh, she began reading the next page. The words started to blur after two sentences, and she looked up, rubbing at her eyes.

  The room was momentarily empty of Casovar and Mage Guard members, and her eyes fell on her left arm. A silly smile crossed her face as she pushed up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing the silver bracelet on her wrist. Her fingers traced over the delicate filigree, pausing on the tiny charm of a mage staff that had been attached to it.

  Dashan had returned from patrol the day before, and they’d gone for a night sail together. It had been peaceful and relaxing, the loveliest couple of hours she’d experienced in weeks. He’d given her the bracelet and muttered something about seeing it in Gosper and thinking she’d like it.

  “Look at you being romantic,” she’d teased, loving his discomfort and the slight flush in his cheeks.

  The door opened, heralding Casovar’s return. Alyx shoved her sleeve down and returned to reading the paper before her.

  “Anything?” he asked her.

  “No sir, I—”

  The rest of her words were forestalled by the door opening and one of the Mage Guard appearing.

  “Lord-Mage, you have a visitor,” the soldier reported. “He says he’s a representative from the Mage Council.”

  Alyx was as surprised as Casovar looked, and for once was glad to be in his offices—she didn’t want to miss finding out what the Mage Council wanted. Brynn hadn’t mentioned anything a week earlier when they’d met, so she assumed he knew nothing about the visitor.

  “Show him in, Tordren.”

  Tordren disappeared briefly and voices sounded outside before a familiar figure came striding in. Her jaw had dropped before she realised what she was doing, shock flooding her. A moment later came a twist of pain and anger that choked up her throat.

  Why is he here?

  Cario Duneskal looked coolly confident in his impeccably tailored mage attire, his jaw clean-shaven and blonde curls neatly cut. Exactly as
she remembered him, except now he wore a black mage robe, marking him an apprentice no longer. His gaze flicked over Alyx before settling on Casovar.

  “Lord-Mage Casovar, hello. My name is Cario. I was sent here as a representative of the Mage Council.”

  Casovar’s lip curled slightly. “You don’t look old enough to be more than a third-year apprentice.”

  “I passed my trials a month ago.” Cario was unmoved by Casovar’s contempt. “And perhaps I should have elaborated. My name is Cario Duneskal—grandson of Councillor Rawlin Duneskal.”

  “The picture becomes clearer,” Casovar said thinly. “What brings you here, Mage Duneskal?”

  “The council has been monitoring the situation between Rionn and Shivasa, and although you have not requested mage assistance, we feel that it is time to offer what help we can. I’m here as a liaison to offer that support.”

  “It’s a shame that you travelled all this way for no reason,” Casovar said. “You’re not invited, Mage Duneskal, and you’re not needed.”

  “I don’t answer to you, Lord-Mage, only to the council,” Cario said amiably. “If you have a problem with my presence here... well, that would be odd, wouldn’t it? Since I’m only here to assist your efforts. Indeed, once Shivasa learns of the Mage Council’s official interest in Rionn, it might cause them to be little more cautious.”

  A charged silence hovered between the two men. It was as if Casovar’s menace merely encircled Cario’s affectation of calm, unable to pierce it. Alyx saw the moment Casovar decided not to openly flout the council; his shoulders relaxed slightly and he gave a faint nod. It was an interesting lesson for her in the reach and power of the council—even uninvited in a country with little involvement in the mage order they could impose their presence. Not a comforting realisation.

  “You may assist, Mage Duneskal, not take over. Is that clear?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” A slight smile flickered over Cario’s face. “I’ve had a long journey, Lord-Mage. I’ll return tomorrow and you can fill me on the situation, if that suits you?”