by Lucia Ashta
I received no answer, nor any understanding greater than the knowledge that the power I harnessed was immense. Like anything so powerful, I imagined it could cause devastation easily. Much like a tornado or hurricane, a tidal wave or tsunami.
Nature, like my magic, was mighty. And sometimes it took things to the point that humans wouldn’t easily survive it.
I suspected my only hope was to learn more about my magic. Instead of tucking it away safely inside, where it couldn’t cause too much damage, I needed to let it flex its might, find its limitations, and learn to listen to me, so that one day, if I ever needed to, I might succeed in reining it in.
After my display here today, I suspected Mordecai and the rest of the teachers would make a priority of teaching me how to direct the force I contained.
“Isa?” Nando said, this time more insistent. “Please come back to me.”
He didn’t say it, but I could tell seeing me this way frightened him, at least a little. He’d seen his little sister blow up a man. Surely, that must be upsetting, no matter who the man was.
I tried to form words to soothe him, but discovered I couldn’t manage it yet. I remained more connected to that flowing magic within me than the outside world. I identified with the fluidity of my powers that didn’t require rules or spells, only belief. That was simpler....
“You need to contain your magic and come back to me.”
I couldn’t stand the subtle panic in his voice. So I did what he asked.
I didn’t want to pull away from my powers and I had to remind myself that there was no permanent disconnecting anymore, not in any real sense. My magic would forever hum within me, and just as soon as I got the chance, I’d pull it out to learn... and to play. For life isn’t worth living if we don’t make time for a little fun.
I couldn’t say anything to assure Nando, but I found that I could nod. He released a quick sigh of relief but didn’t speak, allowing me to focus.
He left my side and went to check on Sir Lancelot, talking to him in whispers not to distract me, though I heard every word.
“Are you all right, Sir Lancelot?” Nando scooped the owl from the floor into his palms.
“Thank you, kind sir. I am better, of that I’m certain, but flight remains a few days out for me, I fear.”
“You sound much better. I’m happy to hear it.”
“As am I, as am I.” The owl paused, and I allowed myself to focus on their conversation. It would guide me back to the world they occupied. “I’m so relieved that sorcerer is dead,” the owl continued. “My mother was Irish, you know.”
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t. You haven’t spoken of your family.”
“Well, she was wonderful and she had this saying. ‘A bad weed never dies.’ I’d started to think that Maurisse might be a bit like that, especially since he had the protection of the king.”
The king.... The thought of him flicked a concern to life in my mind, bringing me closer to the outside world. What was it? Oh, yes, what were we going to do about the king now that his brother was dead?
Each precise thought expanded the distance between my magic and me. The fire settled in the well deep inside, in my center, and diminished to a simmer. There were no more bursts, pops, or sparks. It calmed, seemingly content that it’d restored balance, and it didn’t resist the barriers I’d begun to construct between it and me.
I smiled, feeling at peace myself, and it was then that I realized I had more control over my facial muscles. I worked to form words. “I-I’ll be all right,” I managed to tell Nando, and he swooped in and gave me a one-armed hug, while he held Sir Lancelot off to the side.
“Oh, Isa. I’m so relieved!”
I forced my mind to latch onto his words and left my magic entirely behind—though always within reach; I was certain of that now.
When he went to pull away, we discovered that I’d leaned my weight into him. I swayed, and he hurried to tuck me into his side.
Me knees buckled and the edges of my vision darkened. “I-I can’t....”
“Don’t try to talk,” Nando said. “I’m going to lower you to the floor. We’re going to take it slow, all right?”
The idea was sound, but my body had other plans. I collapsed, dragging him down with me. We landed in a heap; it was a miracle that he managed to protect the owl through the fall.
But that was my brother, always the protector. He finished settling me gently, then placed the owl in his lap.
“I can’t see anything anymore,” I slurred.
“I’m an owl, and I can scarcely see in here. There isn’t even a hint of light, not even coming from beneath the door.”
“Nando can....”
“Lord Nando can see? In here?” I’d rarely heard the owl incredulous, but I understood why he sounded that way now. Sir Lancelot’s eyes were enormous, shaped to see in the depth of night. But this wasn’t a natural darkness. It was stuffy and enclosed... and I was suddenly growing desperate to get out.
“I can, but you can’t. I’m going to fix that right now, though,” Nando said.
“How?” This was possibly the first time I’d heard Sir Lancelot utter just one word. He wasn’t an owl bothered by the efficiency of communication, but rather by its elegance.
“I remember Walt’s spell, that light one. The one you said was child’s play.” With Maurisse dead, his spell forbidding magic in the dungeon should have died along with him.
“Oh, very well then. Have at it. And if you forget any of it, Lord Nando, feel free to call on me. I’ll be happy to recite it to you.”
But Nando didn’t take the owl up on his offer, and I suspected I knew the reason why. I’d revealed that I possessed incredible power. My brother, though not jealous when it came to me, hadn’t yet shown powers beyond his astonishing eyesight.
He needed to prove himself through this small spell, if only to himself. His voice was tremulous at the beginning, but quickly gathered strength.
“Bring forth light to the darkness.
Illuminate that which hides in shadows.
Bring forth a flame that doesn’t harm,
but gives only ease to the sight.”
I smiled as a miniscule wisp of light was born of nothing, then hovered next to us.
Nando gasped happily, as if he hadn’t truly believed he would do it no matter what he’d said. I wondered if that was the reason magicians needed spells, because they didn’t believe they could perform magic otherwise.
“I did it,” Nando whispered, awe and excitement lighting up his face beneath the soft, warm glow of the wisp.
“That you did, Lord Nando,” Sir Lancelot said. “Was that, I pray ask, your first spell?”
“It was indeed.” Nando beamed, unconcerned by how small the spell he’d performed was. It was his first overt demonstration of magic.
“Then you certainly have well and truly begun your studies of magic now, I dare say,” the little owl intoned, clearly feeling much better. He sat in Nando’s palm, but he was more alert and sturdy than he’d been before Maurisse’s death.
“I believe I have begun my magical path, Sir Lancelot,” Nando said. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I too easily forgot that a man was now dead because of me.
“It’s wonderful, Nan,” I said softly, being ginger with myself, unsure how I’d feel about what I’d done when I had the chance to properly reflect.
“It’s nothing like what you did, but I quite like my little wisp o’ light.”
“What’s not to like? It’s lovely, and so very nice.” The words came more easily now; I no longer held onto my magic. “The darkness of this place is very overwhelming without it.”
“You can say that again, Lady Isa,” Sir Lancelot said. “Especially for me. I’m an owl, for goodness’ sake. I’m accustomed to being able to see no matter what my circumstances. This has been most uncomfortable. What is this place he has us in, anyway? Yet another dungeon? So blasé. Are the sorcerers no more inventive than this? I suppos
e they aren’t. The most powerful of magic relies on the imagination, a point you’ve proven most elegantly, Lady Isa. That duke had so little of it. And now....”
“And now he’s dead. Because I killed him.” I’d already determined that I wouldn’t feel guilty for killing him, yet the thoughts arrived unbidden, and the words tumbled from my mouth.
“You did as you had to, of that I’m most certain,” the owl said. “I’ve been around long enough that I can say with a certain amount of authority: there are sorcerers who accept darkness into their hearts. Once that happens, and the darkness takes hold, there’s no going back, not in any real sense.”
I blinked at him, taking in the seriousness of his expression and his wide, earnest eyes.
“Trust me. I was part of the force that battled Count Washur.”
“Gertrude’s... husband?” Nando hesitated as he asked the question, and I understood why. Gertrude was too young to be a widow, and too good to be married off to a terrible sorcerer.
“The very one.” Sir Lancelot pursed his beak into a good impression of disapproval. “There was no way to redeem Count Washur. He had to die; it was the only way to put an end to his evil machinations. Duke Maurisse is—was—no different.”
I nodded numbly, trying to record all he said so I could remind myself of it when the next wave of doubt or guilt washed over me... because I had no doubt it was coming. I’d killed. And that wasn’t something I’d been prepared for.
“Now what do you two, lad and lady, say about getting out of here? As Lord Nando managed to perform the light wisp spell, clearly the duke’s magic that limited the ability to do spells is now as dead as he is.”
The owl was just going to keep mentioning how dead the sorcerer was, wasn’t he? I grimaced.
“What’s wrong?” Nando asked right away.
“Nothing. I’ll be fine.” I smiled for his sake, but it was forced this time; I was sure he noticed. I hurried to distract him from my discomfort. “What about Sinter? Do we need to... hunt him down?” I shrugged, uncomfortable with the idea that we might have to track down another man and kill him. No, not a man, a sorcerer. There was a difference, wasn’t there? I wasn’t entirely sure. When Maurisse had exploded, he’d been a mass of flying flesh, blood, and bone before my magic claimed all of him.
Nando and Sir Lancelot exchanged a look while I got myself together. “What do you think, Sir Lancelot?” Nando asked. “I don’t think we can just let him get away, do you? I mean, he seems like he’ll only seek out another master to follow, one who’ll undoubtedly have the worst of intentions.”
“That’s guaranteed. However, I’ve met many sorcerers like Sinter over the centuries. There’s no need to bother looking for him. He’ll be long gone by now. That kind of man only follows those he considers stronger than him out of a sense of self-preservation. When he realized the duke’s defeat was imminent, he fled and didn’t look back, I’m certain. The cowards always do.” Sir Lancelot sat a bit taller and tilted his chin upward just enough to make himself look like the brave soldier.
“You were certainly brave, Sir Lancelot,” I said, unable to help myself. “You stood up to our enemies as if you were a hundred times your size.”
I hadn’t exactly seen him stand up to anyone, but I got my gist across, and was rewarded by a grin he struggled to subdue. After all, he hadn’t cowered, not in any serious way, and for a creature capable of being squashed by an errant footfall, it was impressive.
“Why, thank you, Lady Isa. Your compliment is kind. You’ve made me blush.” Beneath the plumes, perhaps.... “I do my best to make my mother proud. I’ve always figured she continues looking over me, bless her kind heart.”
“I’m sure she does,” I said as the reigning expert on the spirit world, at least until Albacus joined us.
“How exactly should we go about getting back to Acquaine?” Nando asked. “We have no idea where we are, but maybe Maurisse has some horses here. We could ride until we figure out the way home.”
Ah, so to Nando the Academy was home too. That made me happy.
“Can Lady Isa not portal us there?” Sir Lancelot asked. “She’s portaled before.”
“It’s out of the question. You heard what the magicians said back at the academy. Until she learns how to properly balance out her magic, it’s too dangerous. It almost killed her last time, you saw her.”
“Right you are. Forgive me, it was just that the idea of returning home sooner rather than later holds a certain grand appeal.”
“That it does,” I said, already wondering if I might be able to portal us there. I was drained, sure, but I was composing myself quickly. I’d used an incredible amount of power, and yet it hadn’t knocked me out as it had when I’d accidentally portaled. I was stronger in my magic, even if entirely by chance. I suspected I’d be able to manage portaling this time with greater ease.... “I could try it.”
“No, Isa, no,” Nando said. “You could barely stand just moments ago. It’s out of the question. We’ll find horses and we’ll make our way back. Even if it takes us days, so what? We’re alive and relatively unharmed. Considering what we went through, that’s a blessing.”
I smiled, and this time the extent of our blessings shone through. “You’re right.” I could have lost Nando, yet I hadn’t. “We’re blessed and I don’t mind a few days of travel.”
“Good. Are you ready to stand?”
“Give me just a few minutes to rest, and then I’ll be ready.”
“Take your time.”
But right then a ball of light intruded into our dungeon, swirling, growing, and sparking. I scrambled backward to get out of the way, eyes round as saucers, wondering if I was strong enough to call on my magic again already.
Nando leapt to his feet and quickly passed Sir Lancelot on to me. My brother drew his sword and bent his knees in a perfect fighter’s stance.
The ball of light expanded, seeming to consume the energy of the space.
Chapter 6
I’d seen enough of them by now to realize that someone was opening a portal to connect to this dungeon space. The light quickly expanded from a ball of energy I could hold in both hands to a swirling, spinning circle large enough for a person to walk through. I redirected my apprehension from what-the-heck-is-coming-after-us-now to concern over who would be walking through that portal.
It could be anyone, though that was unlikely. How many people could guess where we were? Besides, Maurisse had threatened our friends with our lives to get them to fall into his trap. Though he’d also said that he’d covered his portaling tracks so well that it’d take our friends at least a day to find us, if they found us at all.
It’d only been a few hours since he took us, though it felt like much longer. It probably wasn’t our friends.
I clutched Sir Lancelot to my chest and pulled my knees toward him, trying to shield him from whatever would come through. “It’s all right,” I whispered to him, though it was clear I needed soothing more than he did. “Nando won’t let anyone hurt us.”
“I know, Lady Isa,” Sir Lancelot said. “The brave Sir Nando will do all he can.” And with that he implied that whatever he managed to do might not be enough.
The sparking lights spun around the circle so rapidly that the portal suggested itself as a solid mass. The lights were so bright that they overpowered the wisp o’ light, which hovered near Sir Lancelot and me, as if it too understood enough to be cautious of whatever was about to descend upon us.
I sighed and steeled myself. I hadn’t recovered enough to call on my magic so soon, but I would if I had to. Of course I would. To protect Nando and the little owl I’d do anything.
I pinned alert eyes on the portal and took deep breaths in preparation. It seemed as if Lady Luck owed us some ease after all the terror we’d survived.
That reminded me, I was supposed to be imagining the best result. That would be Arianne’s counsel. Create with your thoughts and the images you hold in your mind. I’d even ha
d this proven to me... but I was tired. I was so dang tired that I wanted things to be easy, without having to work for them. Was that really too much to ask?
I must have done something to reveal the nature of my thoughts, because Sir Lancelot said, “We’ll be fine, Lady Isa. Just wait and see. The magicians would never forget about us.”
Surely there was nothing forgettable about the owl. “It’s not that I think they would, but Maurisse said they wouldn’t be able to find us for at least a day.”
“And you believed him? The manipulative sorcerer who bent everyone’s ear in whichever direction he wanted?”
Well, when he put it that way....
“Almost certainly he lied to us.” But Sir Lancelot never got to finish what he was about to say.
The bright lights of the portal intensified and spun impossibly faster. With a pop and a few sparks that suggested there was nothing safe about this kind of magic, a foot stepped through the portal. My heart beat ferociously; I was certain Sir Lancelot would feel it thumping through my shirt.
A leg followed the foot, a hip, and finally a chest and a frantic expression plastered across a face that delivered immediate relief.
Nando, who’d stood in the path of anyone who’d emerge, ready to protect us, took a step back and sheathed his sword. Then he reached for the man who’d joined us in the dungeon, and clapped him on the back, showing him a new kind of familiarity. “Man, am I glad to see you,” he told Marcelo.
Every breath I’d held in tension fled my body. Marcelo had come to save us.
“Is everyone safe?” he asked right away.
“Yes,” Nando said.
“And Maurisse?”
“Gone.” That was a kind way of putting it.
“Any immediate threats?”
“None.”
“Good,” Marcelo said, finally unclenching his fists and clapping Nando on the shoulder. “Good news indeed. Now make room.”