Unmagic

by Jane Glatt

  “Thank Gyda,” Kara said, grateful that they didn’t have to rely on her efforts with the mad mage to save themselves. The ship would have tools to dig through the rock, wouldn’t they? “And you can ask Reo to send for Santos.”

  “If needed. I think we’ll see what the sailors can do.” He turned to her. “I didn’t have a lot of hope, not even when you arrived. But now that I know Reo is out there? For the first time in weeks, I feel like I—like we—are going to get out of here.”

  “Wald?” the Mage called out from down the hall. “Is that you? What’s happening?”

  “I’ll check on him,” Kara said. She still wanted to help. Besides, a powerful Mage not in control of his wits or his magic was dangerous.

  “Wald’s not here,” Kara said as she reached the still prone form. Mage mist swirled around him as though it was reacting to his troubled emotions.

  “Not here?” the Mage asked. “Why? Aren’t we in the workroom?” He looked up at her and his eyes widened. “My love. You shouldn’t be here! Why are you back? Do I need to pay them more to keep you out of here?”

  “I’m here to see you,” Kara replied. She knelt down beside him. He had to be talking about her mother—there was no one else it could be. But he kept calling her his love. Had her mother loved this man before she met Val—?

  She sat back on her heels. That was it; that was why he’d been cursed.

  Did her mother know? Did she know that this Mage—this man who loved her—who from the sounds of it had paid someone in order to help her—had been cursed by the man who had fathered her child? Would Arabella Fonti even care? Or had this Mage simply been another man she used to get what she wanted?

  “To see me?” the Mage smiled. “That’s very kind of you. And not required.” He sat up and took her hand. “But it is nice to see you.”

  “I came to help,” Kara said. “Will you let me help?”

  The Mage nodded. “But I am so tired.” His eyes drooped but he stayed upright.

  Kara stood and walked around him, studying the mage mist—the dark-grey curses that Valerio Valendi had inflicted on him. There—she poked a thick rope of mist that didn’t seem to be connected to anything else. The Mage shivered but didn’t open his eyes.

  Concentrating on the spell, Kara mentally pulled at it while slowly drawing her finger away. The mist seemed to stretch and then it broke. The Mage cried out and toppled over, but the spell clung to her finger, and Kara couldn’t risk stopping what she was doing to help him. Instead, she stepped away from him, praying that he hadn’t been too badly hurt, the spell trailing her.

  She suppressed a shiver—she thought that this spell had been created to cause pain—and pointed her finger to the ground. The spell slowly sank into the dirt. When it was gone, she rubbed her hand on her trousers, trying to rid herself of the terrible intent of the spell.

  “Even I could feel the hate in that spell,” Chal said from behind her. “Is he all right?” He knelt beside the Mage and leaned over him. “He’s breathing.”

  Kara sighed. “That’s something.” She bent down and stared at the remaining spells. She whisked away a few loose strands that had been hidden by the spell she’d just removed. “Hopefully he’ll be more himself when he wakes.” She stood and Chal rose too.

  “He knows my mother,” she said. “Loves her. I think that’s why Valendi cursed him. He couldn’t let my mother have someone who loved her.”

  “Valendi was jealous?” Chal asked. “Winning her wasn’t enough for him so he had to curse the man he’d won her from?”

  “It was probably more because he didn’t want my mother to have anyone she could trust,” Kara said. She didn’t think Valerio Valendi had been capable of loving anyone enough to be jealous.

  “Santos told me,” she continued, “that he was deliberately cursed so that he had lucid periods when he knew what had been done to him. That was part of Valendi’s vengeance—for Santos to know he was cursed and realize that he had no way to remove them.” She paused. Some days she still struggled with the fact that she’d killed Valerio Valendi, but he had been a terrible person. “And Santos had been his mentor.”

  HE WOKE UP in the dark—not the workroom. He knew that by the way the air smelled. Voices drifted to him—a woman and a man—and he wondered why he wasn’t alone after being banished to this island.

  He sat up and rubbed his head. There was a lump on it—had he fallen? He didn’t remember falling, but there was so much he didn’t remember.

  A faint light threw shadows on the wall from the direction the voices were coming from. It was a mage light, not the flickering of a flame. He drew some power and created a second light and let it hover in the air near his head. He’d always been good at lights, although more difficult spells were beyond him. That was why he’d been assigned to the workroom. He had power, but he wasn’t able to focus it. And without political or family allies, Mage Guild had determined his life and his fate.

  “There’s a light,” a woman exclaimed. “He must be awake.”

  He saw her silhouette first, and for a moment his heart was in his throat—then she stepped out of the dim passage and into the glare of his mage light. It wasn’t her, although there was much about her that reminded him of his love. But she was young, this one, not much more than a girl.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  “Fine.” He touched his head again. Was he ill?

  “You hit your head,” she said. “When I . . . tried to help you.”

  “Is he better?” A man loomed over the girl—a Seyoyan. He hadn’t met that many of the dark-skinned islanders, but he wasn’t surprised to see one. He had been banished to Seyoya after all.

  “Have I been ill?” he asked. Both of his companions seemed to think he had been, but he couldn’t remember . . . anything really, after being told he was being banished. He didn’t even know why he’d been sent away.

  “Yes,” the girl said. “And someone did it deliberately. Do you remember?”

  “No, not really.” He tried to concentrate but shook his head. He couldn’t remember and trying to was giving him a headache.

  “Do you know where you are?” the Seyoyan asked.

  “Yes. I’m in Seyoya,” he replied. “I’ve been banished.” He rubbed the lump on his head. How had he hit his head?

  “My name is Kara,” the girl said. “What’s yours?”

  “I’m . . .” he frowned. He had a name—everyone had a name. “My name is . . .” Why couldn’t he remember his name?

  “You were asking for someone called Wald,” the Seyoyan said. “Is that you?”

  “No, Wald is . . .” He knew the name—he could practically see Wald—but he couldn’t describe him. Or say how he knew him.

  “How about Arabella Fonti,” the girl—Kara—said.

  “My love,” he said. Her he could picture—her he remembered. Beautiful, cold, and calculating. But he loved her—even though he knew she’d only use him—knew she’d set him aside as soon as someone more useful came along. But he loved her anyway.

  “She’s my mother,” Kara said.

  “That’s why you remind me of her.” He had a feeling he should be shocked that his Arabella had an almost-grown daughter—but he wasn’t. His love had so many secrets—including things she’d wanted to keep from herself.

  “I can help you,” Kara said. “If you’ll let me.”

  “I hear something,” the Seyoyan said. He rushed down the hall and out of sight. “I think they’re digging,” he called back to them.

  “Our friends,” Kara said. “They’re coming to get us. But I still want to help you, if I can.”

  “All right, but can we do it later?” He was tired. Was that from hitting his head? “I need to sleep.” He yawned and lay down without even waiting for her reply. As he drifted off, he heard her retreating footsteps.

  KARA PUSHED HER hair from her face. She and Chal had been sitting by the wall of the cave for hours. The sounds of digging, or pi
ckaxing, or whatever they were doing to get through the rock continued, but it didn’t seem any closer.

  “What does a pickaxe look like?” she asked.

  “You’re the one from a mountain villa,” Chal said. “Haven’t you seen one?”

  “My villa didn’t mine,” Kara said. “And anyway, I was Mage Guild. I wouldn’t have been exposed to miners or their tools—they would be Masons, I didn’t have any reason to deal with them.”

  “Even in a small villa the guilds lived apart?” Chal shook his head. “I never believed that the way Rillidi was laid out, each guild with its own island, separate from the other guilds, was the rule. In Seyoya we all live together and are friends with each other. Tregella is so confusing.”

  “Do you still think I could make a living there?” she asked. “In Seyoya? Teaching about the guilds? Sif said he thought I could.”

  “He’s right. Especially when you add your talent for undoing magic spells. For unmagic.”

  “Unmagic,” Kara repeated. “That’s a good name for it.” And that skill—unmagic—was what everyone wanted from her. And why people like her mother and Primus Rorik wanted her dead. But what would happen to Santos’ agreement with Warrior Guild if she didn’t return? Would they make Reo go back to the guild? Force him to be an Assassin again? He would hate that. She would hate that.

  And they could. Santos said that the terms of the contract were that as long as she did it to the best of her abilities; as long as she tried, the contract was valid. But that meant that if she stopped trying, if she left Old Rillidi, the contract would no longer be valid.

  She blew out a breath. It had seemed so easy when she’d agreed to it: a little of her time and talent for Reo’s freedom.

  “I’m going to check on the Mage,” Kara said as she got to her feet. She picked up the waterskin and took it with her.

  He was still sleeping, this nameless Mage who loved her mother: and who had been cursed by her mother’s lover.

  The mage light still hovered near his shoulder. Grey-black mage mist circled his head. It was thinner than it had been. There were a few wispy strands so she waved them away. Now there were just a couple of thicker bands.

  She felt odd staring at the Mage while he slept; she would have preferred him to be awake for this, but he had agreed to let her help him. She wanted to remove all of the curses before Reo and the sailors broke through the wall. If the Mage and she went their separate ways, he would be cursed for the rest of his life. She didn’t want that and was certain he wouldn’t either.

  She could see that one of the main curses had multiple, smaller spells attached to it. If she got rid of them, the large one might be less focused. That would probably make it easier—and less dangerous—to remove.

  She reached her hand towards the spells, holding it a few inches from the Mage’s head. She concentrated on the mage mist; on willing it to come to her.

  A ribbon of mage mist snaked out from the swirling mass and headed to her index finger. When it touched her, she shivered. The mist felt damp, and she could feel the terrible intent of the spell. She stretched her fingers apart and the mist crossed her palm and travelled the length of her little finger. She reached down until her little finger touched the dirt floor. The mage mist pooled there for a moment before slowly fading to nothing.

  The Mage mumbled something and waved a hand towards his head, but he didn’t wake.

  The spell continued to unspool from around his head and travel along her finger to the ground. Once the smaller spells were gone the larger spell started to tighten around the Mage’s neck.

  “No, you don’t.” Kara shoved her hand into the mist focusing all her will on it, forcing the mist to weaken and come away. Suddenly, it snapped apart, and the mage mist—the spell—flew towards the wall. It sparked and hissed when it hit the rock, startling her.

  “What was that?” Chal rushed around the corner. “Are you all right?”

  Kara, slumped over the Mage, lifted her head. “I’m fine. We’re both fine.”

  The Mage shifted in sleep. He had only one major spell left circling his head. Kara waved a few straggling wisps away and stared down at him.

  “I can see his face now,” she said. “He looks very . . . ordinary.”

  “Most of us do,” Chal replied. “Do you think he can make a way out now? It’s not that I don’t appreciate what Reo’s doing out there, but we have no idea how thick the rock here is. It could take weeks for them to get through.”

  “Maybe he’s ready to do magic,” Kara said. “Let’s hope.”

  Chapter Six

  HE KNEW WHERE he was, but he still didn’t know who he was. He was trapped in a cave with a Seyoyan and Arabella’s daughter.

  That almost made him think he was dreaming—except that it made perfect sense. The child explained Arabella Fonti’s age when she’d arrived on Mage Guild Island: why she was powerful but untrained at an age when most Mages were well into their Journeyman schooling.

  She’d been assigned to the workroom, like him, and he’d immediately been smitten. She’d allowed his attentions—he’d never been under the illusion that she loved him—but in that workroom—in that hopeless life—loving her, being able to see her every day—was enough.

  And even better, he’d been the one to help her escape that life.

  He’d been an Apprentice once, to a Mage of middling power. He’d never been able to manage his power, but the Mage had liked him. So he’d convinced—and paid—that Mage to take on Arabella as his student.

  She’d been grateful—grateful enough that she’d bedded him—and he’d had that memory to help him get through all of the years in the workroom.

  And he’d kept track of her, when he could. She’d soon outgrown his old mentor and had acquired a new master. Rumours said that she’d bed anyone who could teach her how to use her magic; how to harness her abilities.

  He’d always assumed the rumours were true, and he didn’t blame her. He’d always known she’d use whatever gifts she had in order to lift herself up. Anyone would—anyone should. Anything was better than the half-life of a workroom.

  He sat up. His head felt clearer than he could remember, but all he seemed to be doing was remembering. Except his name: he still didn’t know who he was. Or why he’d been banished to Seyoya. He must have come to this island by ship, but he would swear he’d never been on one in his life. He’d only been on a boat once: his master had taken him below the island and they’d floated around for a few minutes. That was before his master knew he was hopeless: before he realized that he’d never be able to control his magic.

  “You’re awake.” It was the girl—Kara Fonti—the daughter of the woman he loved.

  “Yes. You said you could help me. Did you?”

  “Yes. I hope you’re not angry.”

  “No, thank you.” He patted his head. “I feel much better. And I can remember things—mostly about your mother—although I still can’t remember my own name.” He sighed. Perhaps that was because he had never been important, not even to himself. Arabella Fonti, on the other hand, had become very important.

  “You may never remember everything,” Kara said. “At least the other Mage I helped in this same way has yet to regain all of his memories.”

  “Another Mage was like me? Did the same thing happen to that Mage?”

  “He was cursed, yes,” Kara said. “By Valerio Valendi, just as you were.”

  “Cursed!” He was shocked. That would be grounds for death, if caught. “The Mage Guild Secundus cursed me. Why? Do you know?”

  “Because he could,” Kara replied. “My guess is that he learned of you—maybe from my mother—and decided to hurt you. Perhaps to hurt her or to make sure she had no one she could trust, or even to prove to her that he wasn’t above being so petty and mean.” She shrugged.

  “Arabella and Valerio Valendi, yes.” He nodded. As soon as the girl said the name, he remembered: his Arabella had attached herself to the Mage Guild Secundu
s. Dangerous, is what he’d thought at the time. And then he’d . . . then he’d what? “Then I suppose it was worthless. Arabella never cared about me.”

  “Or me,” Kara said. “She doesn’t even like to acknowledge that she’s my mother.”

  “Has Mage Secundus Valendi tried to hurt her through you?” Valendi was ruthless—he’d seen the man kill a worker for not giving up his chair to him. The worker had been old and practically crippled, but that hadn’t mattered to Valerio Valendi. That’s why he’d . . . what? Had he done something to try to protect Arabella? Something that attracted Valendi’s attention? “He’ll try again if he has a chance.”

  “Valendi’s dead, so he doesn’t matter anymore. My mother is Mage Guild Secundus now.”

  He looked up at her in shock. His Arabella had risen to the second highest level of Mage Guild. And he’d helped her take that first step. He was very proud of his love. “She must be so happy.” Even as he said the word, he knew Arabella wouldn’t be happy. Satisfied, yes, pleased even, but happy? He thought that feeling was beyond her—just as love was.

  “I’m not sure—”

  There was a loud rumble and the ground shook. He shielded his head with his hands as pebbles and dust rained down on him from the ceiling. When he looked up, Kara had gone.

  “WHAT HAPPENED?” KARA asked as she rounded the corner. Chal stood staring at the wall. “Did they break through?”

  “No.” Chal turned to her, a horrified look on his face. “I think there was a cave-in.”

  “What? How?” A cave-in? Had Reo been there? Was he hurt? She leaned against the wall, pleading with Gyda to keep him safe.

  Dust filtered down from the rock ceiling above her, and she coughed.

  “Can you tap on the wall and see if they’re all right?” she asked Chal. When she turned to look at him, his eyes were sad.

  “I’ll try.” He picked up the rock he’d used before and hit it against the wall three times, paused then hit it another two times.