"Do you have a name yet?"
"Not…yet. Mora and I have a difference of opinion on what makes a strong name."
"I hear you want to name her after your mother," Ashley said, chuckling then coughing weakly into a handkerchief. "Dangerous waters, there."
"We could always call her Alexandra Irene, just to make it fair."
"Oh, that poor child," Ashley said with another laugh punctuated by a wet cough. "I hope it's something less formal."
"We're still working on it," I said. "But I wanted to talk to you about…something else."
"I hear Sahil paid you a visit."
"Yes, he did. He was very helpful." With a deep breath of courage, I reached into my pocket and procured the vial. "This is…well, this is it."
"You've done it," Ashley said, leaning forward. "Are you sure it will work?"
"It is the potion Johanna brewed," I said, evasively. "But there's more. Alexandra knows about the tear."
Ashley sat back, concern etched on his old face. "Does she, now?"
"She was concerned about my absence, compelled me to speak about where I've been," I said, hoping Ashley wasn't as good at seeing through a lie as Alexandra was. "But there's good news. She's agreed to join the Danvers Accord." I slid the letter across his desk.
He picked it up gingerly, unfolding and scanning the page. "It doesn't surprise me that she would agree to our terms."
"I hope that this might…help Clan Carrigan come to a decision about updating the Danvers Accord. And others, as well. I know Clan Vargas would be on board."
Ashley gently placed the letter on his desk. "My concern, Gavon, isn't adding your guild. It's opening the can of worms to the rest of the world. There are those who believe we should return to a full breadth of specialties. Remove the restrictions around even speaking of magic around the nonmagicals. I fear if we bring this up for a vote, it would quickly devolve into something neither of us want."
My heart sank. "But what about New Salem? What about all this work I've been doing to close the tear?"
"What about it? You have the potion. Perhaps it's time to use it."
I rose to my feet. "Ashley, listen to me. These people don't deserve to live in the world they do. They're innocent. Alexandra is willing to do whatever's necessary to free them from that cage. They'll give up specialties, they'll sign on to the accord lock, stock, and barrel. You have her word."
He sighed and picked up the letter again, saying nothing.
"You have mine, too," I said, straightening. "That if you don't allow them freedom, I'll just bring them over here. We'll find a place for them to live and you'll have a community of magicals who won't adhere to your accord. Is that better?"
"That sounds like a threat, Gavon."
I swallowed. "It's a reality. We already have the problems we do. We might as well solve them."
After a long pause, Ashley held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. I will bring it up for discussion. If the clan agrees that this is a good route to take, I will call on my fellow Clanmasters. I'm not saying it's going to happen, so wipe that grin off your face."
I hadn't even realized I was smiling.
"But…you're right. We have this problem to deal with, and we should resolve it before it gets any worse."
Thirty-Four
I didn't go home after that—I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to hide my glee from Mora, and I was sure she would be very angry with me for what I'd said to Ashley. But for the first time, I finally felt like I had some control. That things were moving forward in my life. I could see a light at the end of the tunnel.
I returned to New Salem for the second time that day, very rare for me. Only this time, I brought with me one of Mora's old high school history books. A gift for my mother, and what I hoped would be the beginning of a long journey toward educating her on the finer points of the new world. Perhaps I could invite her to meet with Ashley, or vice versa. His health concerned me, but—
All thoughts went out the window when loud cheering erupted in the village at my arrival. They rushed to me, grasping my shirtsleeves and thanking me for saving them, for being their hero. For saving them and the village. For releasing them from this sunless world into the real one.
My heart sank into my stomach.
I hurriedly detangled myself from the crowd and transported to Alexandra's house.
"What did you do?" I bellowed, slamming open the door to her study. There, Rogers, Humbert, Agatha, and Cyrus sat around her large desk, each with a glass of wine in hand.
"Ah, the man of the hour," Alexandra said, beckoning me inside.
"We had a deal, Alexandra," I snapped. "You weren't supposed to share this news."
"And why not, my boy?" Rogers said with a heavy cough as he sipped the wine. "You've found a way out of this frozen hellscape. You've ensured our Guild's survival for centuries to come. And I hear…you're bringing us another Warrior!"
I glared daggers at my mother, fury overtaking my words. "May I have a word in private?"
"No, you may not," she said. "This news is welcome indeed. And therefore, it's as good a time as any to announce my decision." She smiled at me. "I will be renouncing my Guildmastership at the end of the year. Gavon will be our new leader."
Rogers, Agatha, and Humbert roared in their approval, clapping and cheering each other with their wine glasses. Cyrus wore a look of horrified shock—not even noticing the wine pouring from his tilted glass. I couldn't think about what he might do to punish me now.
This was all happening too fast—I didn't want any of this. "A word, Alexandra."
"Fine, fine," she said, transporting to the other side of her desk and walking past me to the door. "Let's have it."
I was barely out of the office before I let her have it. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Her eyes widened. "Gavon, I've never heard such language from you."
"Because you lied to me. You told me you wouldn't share, and now I arrive and the whole village is applauding me. And now you give me Guildmaster? How many damned times do I have to tell you I don't want it."
"You will become Guildmaster so you can shepherd us through this transition," she said softly. "I know nothing of this world, of the practices. You've married into Clan Carrigan, and will soon have a daughter by them. Who better to lead it than you? Cyrus?"
"You, Alexandra. I'm not ready to become leader."
"Neither was I at eighteen. Neither am I at present. But it's something we have to deal with." She rested her hand on my shoulder. "If what I understood of what you told me yesterday is true, the Guild as we know it will cease to be. But would you leave these people in the hands of Cyrus?"
Wearily, I shook my head. "I suppose not. But I still haven't secured your removal yet. Clan Carrigan hasn't given their blessing, and we have to find the original signatories of the Danvers Accord and—"
She waved her hand. "You forget, son, that as Guildmaster, you can compel the members to do whatever you please, as a temporary measure. So if you'd like them to adhere to the tenants of the agreement, you can do that."
"As long as I have the Council's blessing."
"Rogers, Humbert, and Agatha are in agreement," she said then added, "I don't believe Agatha knows what's going on anyway, but she'd agree with anything I tell her to."
"And Cyrus?"
"Can be overruled," she said.
"Oh, can I?" Cyrus stood on the other end of the hallway, his face a mask. Something like fear crawled down my spine—a feeling I hadn't had since I was a boy. Suddenly, I was eighteen and worried my fellow apprentice would retaliate after I'd received praise. And as much as I tried to shake off that fear, it remained firmly in the back of my mind, like a speeding train careening toward me.
And when he spoke, I was both unsurprised and terrified.
"I challenge you, Alexandra," Cyrus announced. "For Guildmaster."
"Very well," she said, glancing in my direction. "At dusk. Gavon shall officiate."
; It was like a storm cloud had descended over the village. Where raucous laughter and excitement had been, now was silence. A nervousness of what was to come.
Alexandra walked through the village with her head held high, impervious to the cries and pleas of the villagers around her. They begged her to reconsider, to decline the challenge, but there was nothing she could do. Cyrus was well within his rights, and once uttered, a challenge couldn't be undone.
My heart thudded in my chest as I considered the match. It seemed improbable that she would lose, but Alexandra hadn't been in the ring with either of us since we were boys. We had the benefit of age; she was in her fifties now, and Cyrus was still a young man at thirty.
Worst of all, I was powerless to stop any of it.
Alexandra and the rest of the Council peeled off toward the underground catacombs where I'd prepared for my two matches as a boy. I couldn't be inside; it was already hard to breathe. So I ascended the staircase to the observation box where I would see the fate of my life and the lives of everyone in the village determined.
I leaned against the stone railing. From here, the arena seemed rather small and unremarkable. Just an open field with sand. Maybe it was age and distance, but it no longer held the fear it once had.
I sat down on the large center chair—the Guildmaster's chair—and rested my hands on the arms. I prayed this chair would become mine without any additional bloodshed. I prayed Alexandra would win, and perhaps might find some mercy for Cyrus. After all, she could decide not to kill him. Then he would be permanently barred from seeking the Guildmaster spot again.
What an elegant solution.
"Ah, Gavon, that's not yet yours."
Cyrus stood behind me, his hands clasped behind his back. He walked to the edge of the box and placed his hands on the ledge, gazing down at the sparring ring.
"It's rather strange to see it from up here isn't it?"
Stranger that he'd had the same thought as I had. I didn't take him for someone so insightful. "You don't have to do this, you know."
"Oh, but I do," he said. "We will duel today, and Alexandra will die. I hope you've said your goodbyes."
"Are you so eager to kill the woman who raised you?" I asked softly. I'd mourned when Jones had died, and so had Alexandra.
"I'm more eager to see this new world you've discovered," he said, turning. "And how very exciting that I will be the one to lead us to victory over the magicals who enslaved us."
I sat back, wishing I was surprised. "I think you'll find that task a little more difficult than you anticipate."
He shrugged and turned back to the ring. "We shall see, Gav. We shall see."
The crowd had gathered, none of them looking pleased to be there. A few paused below the observation deck, watching me and perhaps seeking some kind of assurance that everything would be all right. I hated that I couldn't give it to them.
When the light dimmed in the sky, Alexandra appeared on one side of the ring and Cyrus the other. It was time for my very small part in this play. I appeared between them, taking a moment to steady my voice before I enchanted it.
"Today's duel will be for the Guildmaster," I began, my voice echoing around the arena. "Alexandra McKinnon versus Cyrus Fairchild. There will be one winner and survivor. The match will continue until death, or one party concedes."
"I will never concede," Cyrus snarled. "The Guildmaster position is mine."
"If you can win it," Alexandra countered. "Your pride will be your downfall, Cyrus."
"Shake hands," I said, if only to end their verbal bantering.
Alexandra took Cyrus's hand and shook it, erupting a large dome of magic around the ring. My mother's was a vibrant purple, the same color as my magic, and that of my daughter's. Cyrus's was a dark gray.
"I'm sorry it had to come down to this, Cyrus," Alexandra said quietly. "It will not be a pleasure to kill you."
"No, the pleasure will be all mine."
I inhaled deeply. "Begin!"
I transported out of the ring, arriving back in the Council box as the fireworks flew. Unlike for my induction match, the audience today was somber and quiet. This wasn't a celebration—and although no one wanted a death, we were all hoping it would be Cyrus.
I had no idea how long the match went on; it was much less terrifying sitting in the stands versus being the one fighting for his life. The activity inside the dome was nothing but purple and gray blurs, with the occasional errant attack spell landing against the side of the dome.
Eventually, the crowd began to dwindle. As the light disappeared from the sky, and the howling wind picked up, the inhabitants of New Salem left to their homes and hearths. Then, it was just Roberts and I, watching with silent reverence, and knowing that the combatants were probably exhausted.
Just as I was sure the fight would last all night, the dome collapsed, revealing two bodies on the ground. My heart sank into my stomach as Cyrus slowly rose to his feet.
"It is done, then," Rogers said, looking at me. "Unless you'd like to challenge him, my boy?"
But I wasn't listening. I transported myself to the center of the ring, slowly walking to my mother's body. Her eyes were open, and she blinked once, but her breath was light. She was dying.
"Mother," I said. "I—"
"Hush, Gavon," she said. "I won't have the last thing I hear be sentimental nonsense."
"I have to say this." I took her hands in mine. They were cold and weak. "Mother, I have two other little girls. Their names are Nicole and Marie, and they're a Potion-maker and Healer. You would be so proud of them—they're so…perfect. Nicole can create healing potions so powerful they're stronger than anything I've ever made. And Mother, she can hear the ingredients. She's a bright, brilliant child. I wish you could've met her. And Marie, precocious little princess. She's two and can already heal me. And my little baby—the one not yet born. If you could only see the power she has. Mother, it's…" I sighed. "I wish things were different and you could've met them. And my wife. You would've loved Mora. She's…"
Alexandra squeezed my hand. "Are you happy, son?"
"What?"
"Are you…happy?"
I nodded. "Very much so."
She closed her hand around mine and nodded once then the final breath left her body. Alexandra was gone.
"I…I did it," Cyrus said, shakily coming to his feet before falling back to his knees. "She's dead. I killed her. I am Guildmaster."
I rose with my mother's body and transported out of the sparring arena. I wasn't in the mood to hear him gloat.
Thirty-Five
As customary for New Salem, I gave my mother a proper burial in our cemetery, next to the previous Guildmasters and Master Jones. It would've made her proud to be in such good company, and as I magically dug her a plot and rested her body in it, I hoped she would be the last one I buried there.
I remained at the gravesite for a while, thinking about the last words we'd spoken. I wasn't even sure what I felt—sadness, shock, relief? Worry for what Cyrus was going to do now that he was in charge?
But oddly, all that worry seemed far away. I was consumed by the thoughts of all the things I never to to share with her. The grandchildren she didn't get to meet, the Warrior she never got to train. The conversations we'd never had because she was too preoccupied with staying aloof and neutral for the rest of the Guild. How might I have turned out if things had been different? What might I have learned from her?
In that moment, all I wanted was my wife's warm embrace.
I transported myself to her side, appearing on the couch next to her without a word.
"Gavon, what—"
"She's dead," I said, hoping I wouldn't have to explain in detail. "My mother's dead and Cyrus is Guildmaster. I know that you might not feel anything for her, but—"
She rested her hands on my wet cheeks and tilted my head to look at her. "Come here."
She laid my head on her chest and stroked my hair, cooing quietly as my tears stained her sh
irt. I'd never felt this way before—not even when Mary's child had been killed. This overwhelming sadness was a new sensation.
"I was so worried when you didn't come home," she said, kissing my forehead. "Ashley said you came by to see him—said you had a letter of some kind?"
"I don't want to talk about that right now," I said, exhausted. "I just…"
Mora stroked my hair, shushing me. "We'll worry about all that later."
"I told her about Nicole and Marie," I said, after a moment of silence. "I wanted her to know about them, and about you."
"What did she say?"
"She asked if I was…happy." I'd scarcely registered the question at the time, but now it struck me as odd. My mother had seemingly never cared if I was happy. Healthy, yes. Alive, yes. But happy?
Mora chuckled, the sound rumbling in her chest. "That's all any mother wants for their kid. I'm glad you were able to tell her."
It was strange, how much I mourned her. How much I missed someone who I could go weeks without speaking to. Perhaps it was all raw sensation, to go from anger to worry to grief in the span of a few hours. Maybe I was in shock. Or, more likely, I was going through the very particular process of losing one's mother. But Alexandra had been more than just a mother. She'd been the Guildmaster, the protector of the village. A steady hand who remained above the fray. A judicious leader. Someone…I truly admired.
"Can we name the baby Alexandra?" I asked, lifting my head off my wife's chest. "Please?"
"I don't know," Mora said. "I mean, I know you're upset about your mom and all, but…"
"Please, Mora," I whispered. "I…I need this."
"I suppose I'm willing to compromise," Mora said with a small smile. "How about something like Alex or Alexis?"
"Alexis could work," I said, rolling the name around in my mind. It wasn't Alexandra, but it would be a fitting honor. "Do you think your mother will object?"
"We could call her Alexis Reneé, that's kind of like Irene," Mora said, looking at the ceiling. "Not that she'll care, probably."
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