by Lisa Cassidy
What will I become?
To be continued in The Mage Chronicles Book Four - Heartfire
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About the Author
Lisa Cassidy was born in Melbourne, Australia, but now lives in the nation’s capital – Canberra. While she mostly sticks to novel-length fantasy, she occasionally likes to break out with short stories on random things like unicorns and ninjas.
When not writing, you’ll likely catch her enthusiastically spectating a basketball game (#NewYorkKnickForLife), drinking buckets of coffee, or…well, who is she kidding...writing!
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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Creator: Cassidy, Lisa, author.
Title: Heartfire / Lisa Cassidy.
ISBN: 978-0-9953589-7-3 (paperback)
Series: Cassidy, Lisa. Mage Chronicles; 4.
Target Audience: For young adults.
Subjects: Fantasy fiction.
Copyright © Lisa Cassidy 2018
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning or by an information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.
First published 2018 by Tate House
This one is for Andreas
Chapter 1
A distant thud permeated her dream. Then a second louder thud, followed by the sharp crack of splintering wood.
“Alyx, get up!”
Deeply asleep, she struggled to rise to consciousness. Someone grabbed her arm, shaking fiercely. Another voice cursed. Then came a series of shouts, followed by the distant ring of metal crashing on metal.
“Magor-lier!”
Rothai’s cold voice in her ear finally broke the hold of sleep. Blinking, she shoved at the arm grabbing her—Tarrick—and scrambled to her feet. A thread of magic and her staff was flying to her hand, the touch of its smooth wood instantly reassuring. It took a moment to orient herself—she was in the guest wing of King Mastaran’s palace just outside of Carhall.
“Hunters,” Tarrick said tersely before she could ask.
“How close?” She struggled to gather her sleepy thoughts. Sleeping in a proper bed after months on the move had meant a deeper sleep than usual. Still, after being on the run for so long, she’d become well-practiced at moving quickly from sleep to battle readiness. Her magic sparked.
“Heading our way. Finn and Tari have gone to hold them off. We need to get you out via the escape route we practiced.”
The distant crash of breaking glass emphasised his words. She moved to the door, readying her magic to fight, despite knowing Hunters would be impervious to it. “We have to make sure Cayr and his father are all right. Mastaran too. It might not be me they’re after this time—we only arrived yesterday.”
The summit had been low key, discussions between the two kings on how to deal with the increasing Shiven incursions. Alyx and her mages had deliberately arrived late to reduce the risk of exactly this happening. And it had happened anyway. Frustration burned through her.
Tarrick took her arm again. “No. We need to get you out. I’ll go first.”
Frustration flared to anger. “I’m not—”
“Both kings’ guards will be doing the same thing, Magor-lier,” Rothai said before she could protest. “Trust them to do their jobs.”
As soon as Tarrick cracked open the door, the sounds of fighting drifted in. A long corridor loomed to their left, the entrance to the guest wing only a few steps around the corner to the right. A scream of pain was so close it made her stomach twist. “How many are there? Surely I can help,” she argued.
“Getting you out is the priority,” Rothai snapped. “Quickly now!”
“Come on!” Tarrick urged, turning right into the corridor, away from the sound of fighting.
It was no use arguing with them. She’d tried it before, each time they’d been found by Shakar’s Hunters and had to flee for their lives. They hadn’t backed down before and they wouldn’t now. The Magor-lier’s life was the ultimate priority. And each time she had to abandon her comrades and run, it left more of a scar.
Her mind kept flashing to Cayr in the opposite wing of the palace, stomach churning with worry so potent her hands were trembling.
Neither man spoke as they shepherded her down a narrow servant staircase and into a tiny storage room at the back of the guest wing’s kitchens. Rothai strode forward to shove several crates of potatoes aside, revealing a trapdoor in the floor.
Mastaran’s personal militia guard had shown them this exit only the day before. Just like the palace in Alistriem, Mastaran’s home was riddled with escape routes in the case of attack. Particularly necessary given his home sat outside the protective walls of Carhall City.
Tarrick urged her onto the ladder leading downwards after Rothai, then brought up the rear. Darkness closed around them when he shut the trapdoor, as heavy as her distress. It didn’t take long before they reached the bottom. Flint scraped, and then there was a bright flicker as Rothai lit a small lamp.
“Quickly.” Rothai’s voice snapped out of the darkness.
She bit down on a sharp retort and pushed past him, determined to take the lead in something. Sometimes it felt as if the last year of her life had been nothing but listening to either Rothai or Tarrick telling her she needed to keep hiding, that she needed to learn more before she could face Shakar and destroy him.
And now they were running. Again.
The flicker of flamelight ahead had Rothai trying to push past her, but she thrust an arm out to stop him. Her pace quickened in relief as she recognised the cluster of figures in the tunnel. A matching expression crossed Cayr’s face as he caught sight of her. He was surrounded by three Bluecoats.
“Your father?” she asked.
He gestured up to where an older man was climbing down a swaying rope ladder. Cayr’s father. The king was pale, sweat beading his forehead despite the cool air of the tunnel. Above him, watching his king protectively, were two more Bluecoats—one of them Tijer’s familiar face.
“Do you know what’s happening?” Cayr asked Alyx.
“Hunters in the palace, that’s all I know,” she said. “They rushed me out before we could learn more. Did it seem like they were coming for you?”
“Unclear. Captain Tijer moved us out too quickly.” Cayr looked grim but unafraid.
A flicker in Alyx’s peripheral vision had her turning to see Jenna Aridlen, dressed in a beautiful gown, hovering just outside the light cast by the lantern one of the Bluecoats was holding. All three were casting her strange glances, as if wondering what she was doing with them.
“The rest of my father’s attendants were staying in a different block of rooms,” Cayr murmured, anticipating her question about Jenna. “They were taken out another way. Jenna insisted she come with us.”
Bootsteps thudded as Cayr’s father reached the ground, Tijer dropping lithely after him. The Bluecoat captain gave Alyx a nod of acknowledgement. “We should move. We can’t be sure how long the rendezvous point will remain clear.”
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“I’ll lead.” Rothai pushed forward. “Tarrick, you bring up the rear.”
“King Mastaran?” Alyx asked Tijer.
“Stayed in Carhall for the night, fortunately,” he said, then rapped out a quick series of orders to the Bluecoats. They began moving along the tunnel. Alyx ran just behind Rothai with two Bluecoats close behind. Cayr, his father and Jenna followed, surrounded by Tijer and the remaining Bluecoats.
Her magic was still functioning which meant there weren’t any Hunters close by. She wondered what their target had been, and hoped Finn and her other mage guards were okay. They knew where the rendezvous point was. At least Cayr and his father were out and safe. And Mastaran was still in Carhall…so either this was a poorly-planned attack, or the Hunters hadn’t been after the Tregayan king.
Adrenalin thudded through her, making her heart race even though they were moving at a slow jog. The tunnel wasn’t overly long—it would emerge into a thickly wooded area a good mile east of the palace. If Finn and her guard had fought clear, they would have gathered the horses and be waiting. King Darien’s Bluecoats would be doing the same. If they hadn’t…Alyx dismissed that thought. Fearing for her friends only skewed her focus. There was time for fear and worry once they were clear.
A shout from behind had them all stopping. Her heart thudded at the note of panic in Tijer’s voice and she pushed through the two Bluecoats behind her to reach him. He had his arm around Cayr’s father, who was staggering, head lolling back.
“What’s wrong?” Cayr’s voice was sharp with worry.
“I don’t know.” Tijer placed the king gently against the wall, and immediately he slumped to the ground. He was lathered in sweat, and he clutched at his chest, a rictus of pain etched into his features.
“Magor-lier, we should keep moving.” Rothai’s insistent voice sounded.
She ignored him, dropping to her knees beside the king. His breath was raspy, his skin turned the colour of milk. Short gasps escaped his mouth, which was moving, trying to form words but failing.
“It’s his heart.” Cayr stood over them, stricken. “He’s been having problems. Ever since Casovar weakened him…”
“Lady Egalion, can you do anything?” Tijer looked as stricken as Cayr—she’d never, not once in her life, seen his serious face so scared.
She reached out, placed her palm on the king’s clammy neck. His pulse jumped erratically, stopping and then starting. Her chest tightened in sympathy. “We need Finn. Dammit.”
“Alyx, you can—”
“I haven’t absorbed Finn’s talent, Tarrick!” she almost shouted, utterly failing to rein in her mixed frustration and terror. “You know that healing ability is close to impossible to absorb.”
She could give Darien strength, but that was the limit of her ability. It wasn’t helping—that was obvious. No matter what she fed him with her magic, it made no difference to the struggling man. Pain rippled across his features, eyes rolling back in his head. He’d stopped trying to talk. She glanced up at Cayr. Tears made his blue eyes brighter than usual.
A shocked silence descended as realisation sunk in of what was happening. The king of Rionn was going to die here in this tunnel and Alyx couldn’t do anything about it. Her best friend’s father, and she was useless.
“Your Highness!” Tijer leaned over him, gripping his shoulders. “I’m going to carry you out of here. There’s a mage healer, he’ll be at the rendezvous point.”
Darien shook his head. He wasn’t going to make it that far. He managed to lift a shaking hand, covering Tijer’s. His eyes flickered closed momentarily, as if he were summoning whatever strength he had left to speak. “My son…keep him safe.”
“I will. I…dammit!” Tijer’s voice mixed pain and helpless anger.
“Father!” Cayr was there then, pushing Alyx out of the way and pulling Darien into his arms. The king’s eyes slid closed. When she touched his arm, his pulse had gone. Cayr’s hand reached for hers, his eyes glassy. She squeezed back tightly.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He swallowed, head bowed, muscles rigid. She didn’t know what to do. What to say. It was all so unreal. So sudden. The king of Rionn had just died in a dark tunnel fleeing from a Hunter attack. Guilt sucked at her and her grip on Cayr’s hand tightened.
For a long moment heavy silence filled the tunnel. Rothai and Tarrick hovered in the background. It was Tijer who spoke first, standing and stepping away from Darien Llancarvan’s body.
“We must get the king to safety,” he said.
As one, every glance shifted to Cayr, still kneeling over his father’s body. Now the king of Rionn.
A rustling sound broke the silence. Alyx looked over to where Jenna was stripping off the skirts of her dress, revealing breeches underneath. Next went her bodice. Under that was a thin shirt. Alyx leapt to her feet, pushing Jenna back into the shadows before she could draw the sword she’d been concealing in a rolled-up cloak.
“What are you doing?” Alyx hissed. “If you reveal yourself as a Taliath—”
“My prince is now my king. His life is worth more than mine. It is my duty to keep him safe, and I cannot do that while pretending to be other than I am.” Jenna gave Alyx a hard shove and walked back into the light, striding up to Tijer. “I will stay with the king and Lady Egalion. Your men will take point. We need to keep moving.”
Cayr blinked, looking up helplessly at Alyx. Grief and guilt and regret all threatened to overwhelm her but she fought it back, managing to hold the emotions at bay long enough to reach out and rest her hand against his tear-streaked cheek. “You are king now, Cayr. I am so sorry, but we have to go.” She fixed her gaze on his blue eyes. “You have to be strong. Mourning can come later.”
He squeezed her hand again, so tightly it hurt, but then he gave her a nod. Her heart bled for her best friend, for the raw pain that spilled out of him, for the way he had to push his grief away and become a king.
It was a grim party that emerged into thick woods just after dawn. It had been raining, and water dripped from the leaves around them with a steady tapping sound. Hoofbeats thudded in the distance. Alyx threw out her telepathic magic.
“It’s all right,” she reported. “It’s Finn, plus Tari and the rest of the Bluecoats.”
Soon the clearing was a chaotic mess of milling horses and soldiers. Tijer shouted for some order. Finn and Tari came straight to Alyx, leading their horses. The sight of Finn made her heart twist in her chest. If only he’d been with them…if only he hadn’t been off protecting her, Cayr’s father might still be alive.
An odd silence fell over the clearing when the Bluecoats began to realise who Tijer was carrying in his arms. One by one they dismounted, taking their hats off and kneeling in the mud before Cayr.
The new king of Rionn sent a helpless glance Alyx’s way, as if to ask what he was supposed to do now. She couldn’t help him, not with this. Tarrick was already tugging at her arm, telling her they needed to move.
“Our priority is getting my father home to be buried,” Cayr said eventually. There was a slight tremor to his voice, but she was proud of how straight he stood, how strong his words were. “There will be time for mourning then.”
“Aye, Your Highness,” Tijer spoke. At his words, the Bluecoats scrambled to their feet and returned to their horses. A disciplined, efficient unit, they were surrounding Cayr and ready to go in moments.
“Alyx, come on!” Tarrick urged. “We have to go.”
Walking away from Cayr during what had to be the toughest moment of his life tore her apart. She met his gaze—he was mounted now with Tijer on one side and Jenna on the other—and tried to convey her regret and sorrow. He bit his lip, looking lost and unsure. There was nothing more she wanted in that moment than to go to him.
“We have to go too, Lady Egalion.” Tijer’s voice was rough. “They could discover us at any moment.”
She nodded, heart in her throat as she met Cayr’s eyes. “Be safe.”<
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He tried to smile for her but failed. “You too.”
She couldn’t even promise that she would see them again soon. Tears fought to fall and she ruthlessly held them back. “Goodbye, Cayr. I love you.”
Once the Bluecoats were gone, they mounted in silence, Rothai leading the way, heading northeast at a fast gallop.
But no matter how far away they got, her thoughts lingered with Cayr. She was his best friend and he’d just lost his father. He was now king of Rionn. And she had to leave him.
She would never forgive herself for it.
Chapter 2
They hadn’t entirely worked out how the Hunters kept finding them, no matter where they hid, but the general assumption was that Shakar was using his telepathic magic—or that of one of the mages that followed him—to track them. In their urgent departure from Carhall, nobody had time for thinking about it any further.
The plan had always been to remain in Carhall only a handful of days before travelling on to a safehouse in an abandoned underground copper mine in the isolated countryside of eastern Tregaya. And after ensuring they hadn’t been followed, this was where Rothai led them.
It had been Finn who’d worked out that telepathic magic couldn’t penetrate underground, and the mine had become a base of sorts for the ragged group of mages that had survived the attack on DarkSkull and chosen not to return to the Mage Council.
No mage who lacked a disciplined mental shield even knew about the place, let alone was ever brought there. Rothai kept Alyx’s visits there short and infrequent. Still, it was the only central safe location they had.