by K. Ferrin
We were not enough. The words echoed through Magicless’ mind. He heard Alekka mutter a prayer for the departed and for the new mothers that were now headed toward an unknown fate. She reached out and touched Magicless gently on his arm as if she could hear his thoughts. “Alright,” she said, “let’s go. We have much to do.”
“What of him?” Ashier asked, gesturing to Jobin. His question had an odd insistence about it.
Alekka looked at Jobin, floating peacefully above the cool dirt of the cave floor. She was incapable of lying, Magicless knew, so if she’d seen everything that had happened during the battle like he had, she’d have to tell. For his part, Magicless had always felt an affinity with Jobin. He was a mage, but for reasons everyone knew but no one talked about, he never used his power. He had more in common with Jobin than any of the others. Magicless pushed her gently aside and stepped forward. The full truth couldn’t come out. Not yet. “I saw Locke. He didn’t make it. He was taken by a Rager. Jobin tried but…he was too late to save him. That’s all.” Alekka shot Magicless a hard look, but said nothing.
“He got muddled, Ashier. We need to bind him,” Leali said.
Ashier’s eyes settled on Magicless with cool calculation. He knew as well as Magicless did that Jobin never used his power. Would he question what Magicless had said? Would he demand more information? For several breaths, they all stood in silence.
“I see,” Ashier said at last, glancing around at each of them in turn. “Will he make it out?”
“I don’t know,” Alekka said. “We had to physically knock him out. He may be losian.”
“Understood. Let’s not waste time then.” An effortless flick of his hand threw the ward back up as he turned, walking deeper into the cave. If Jobin was indeed lost inside his powers, it did not bode well for him, and Alekka and Ashier’s tone suggested the same.
He watched as the magelight bobbed and weaved ahead of him, the others all in a tight group. They had mage business to attend to now. His fists tightened at his sides in spite of himself. You’ll never be more than a fly on the wall to them, the small, insistent voice at the back of his mind whispered maliciously. He shook his head and hurried to keep up with the light.
[ 5 ]
Magicless could hear Tredon shouting long before they entered the cavern. Even distorted from bouncing off the towering stone walls and weakened from distance, there was no question to whom they belonged. And it was clear he was angry. Well, no surprises there. Like he’s ever anything else, Magicless thought, feeling his shoulders and back tighten in anticipation of the onslaught they were all about to receive.
The others were also silent, and had been since he’d stepped in and lied about what had happened to Locke. He wasn’t sure if Alekka approved or disapproved of his lie, but Magicless knew what it was like to live as an outcast. If he could spare Jobin any more of that pain, then he was happy to bend the truth as far as it would go. It would change nothing for himself. He had nothing to lose.
In truth, he pitied Jobin. Magicless was on the outside because of what he was, a man without magic. Jobin was on the outside because he had too much of it—and because of what he’d done with that excess. There was a world of difference between the two, but Magicless couldn’t help but feel a tug of empathy for Jobin whenever he considered the other man’s plight.
Jobin had disfigured his mother when he was a young boy. All children’s magic could be wild and uncontrolled. To avoid this, every mage began learning meditation and mental discipline from a very young age. Parents taught it at home, friends and neighbors enforced it around the community and students took classes in magical control from the first day of school. Jobin had attended but had always struggled with focus.
All Magicless knew was that Jobin and his mother had had some argument or another, a normal row, but in his anger he had lost control of his magic and lashed out at her. She was a powerful mage in her own right, but had been unable to deflect Jobin’s power fast enough. She had almost died, and as far as Magicless could tell, Jobin had never forgiven himself for it, and neither had the community.
Now, he never used his magic in any but the most basic of ways, like starting a cooking fire. Until today, Magicless thought, glancing down at Jobin’s immobile form once again. He had done it to save his brother, but he’d been too late, and again, he’d lost control of his magic. His torment had been writ clear upon his face when Magicless had come upon them in the square. Both his inability to act and his inability to control his power had left him incapable of saving his brother, and he’d have to live with that. What happened afterword proved his complete incompetence as a mage. Magicless hoped the lie he’d told would spare Jobin seeing this reflected back at him on the faces of every person he knew.
Tredon’s bellows were getting louder, and as they came around the last corner before they hit the cavern, his words became clear.
“Yes. Aclay is in ruins, we didn’t have time to act, we made some mistakes, but that does not mean we should let them win! We need to go after them, aggressively, and stop hiding. I told you all that hiding would not work. We need to meet violence with violence. We need to kill the Ghosts when we see them and hunt down the Ragers! Can’t you see that is the only way?”
Beneath the grime Tredon’s face was red with passion, the tendons in his neck standing out clearly and his green eyes rolling in their sockets. There would be no reasoning with him about this right now. Maybe never. Tredon was a brash, opinionated man—a talented mage, surely, but he thought with his oversized muscles instead of his mind. Magicless felt certain he would consider nothing but a solution focused on violent retribution for what had been done to them. He couldn’t entirely dismiss the fact that some part of him felt inclined to agree with Tredon just then.
Magicless glanced around the cavern as he shuffled in, trying to get a read on how many had made it out of Aclay. He felt a measure of relief at the number of faces staring up as they listened to Tredon’s rant. Ashier approached Tredon. “We need to continue this discussion later,” he said. “We’ve got a binding to do.”
“A binding. Who?”
“Jobin.”
Before Tredon could ask, Leali pushed to the front and laid Jobin gently on the ground in front of him. Magicless heard a wail from the crowd and turned to see Jobin’s mother clambering and shoving her way through the gathered townsfolk.
“He is alive, sister,” Leali said. “But we believe he is losian.”
“Lost…but, how…? He never…”
Leali put both her hands on the smaller woman’s shoulders, facing her directly. “Locke didn’t make it,” she said softly. “I didn’t see it.” At this, she glanced over at Magicless before continuing.”...But I gather Jobin tried to save him. He got muddled from it.”
Jobin’s mother crumpled in anguish and Leali held her tightly against her chest. “I’m sorry, sister. I’m sorry. But we need to focus on Jobin now. We need to bind him before he wakes.”
Leali held the woman as she sobbed. Twenty mages stepped forward from the crowd and formed a circle around Jobin’s still form. Magicless sunk to his knees in relief to see that one of the mages in the group was his father, and his face was somber but not twisted with grief. My mother’s alive then, too, thought Magicless, more tension bleeding from his frame. His relief robbed him of any remaining strength he had and he found he was unable to climb back to his feet. He watched from where he was as Leali led Jobin’s mother outside of the circle and held her as the ritual began.
Magicless had never seen a binding ritual. He doubted any of the mages gathered here had ever done one. Truth be told, it was quite unimpressive from his point of view. The cave remained almost completely silent even though he knew enormous powers were being unleashed in that cavern. At one point, every hair on his body stood straight on end as if a lightning storm were close, but other than that, he felt and saw nothing remarkable. An hour later, Magicless’ father stood and announced that the binding was complete. T
he circle broke. Those who had participated were sweat-soaked and exhausted despite there having been no outward evidence of effort.
Magicless’ father and Leali moved Jobin to the side to allow him to sleep off the rest of Magicless’ blow and to give him and his mother some privacy. Once done, Leali abruptly rose and walked off, vanishing into the darkness of the cave. Magicless considered following, but Alekka, still standing beside him, shook her head. “Give her some time,” she said, looking down at Magicless with her steady gaze. With some effort, Magicless looked away from Alekka and back out towards where Leali’s footfalls were becoming more and more faint as she moved further into the dark recesses of the cave.
This whole thing had been Leali’s idea. She had been so incredibly passionate about fighting back. Her mother, like many of the children of Aclay, had been taken by the Ghosts when Leali was a babe, and it had haunted her for her entire life. As she’d grown older and stronger she’d begun acting as a surrogate mother to those left motherless from a gathering, and she’d become intensely protective of expectant mothers, as well. She was an impressive warrior, and Magicless believed she’d planned this resistance since the day her own mother was taken, had planned to destroy the Dark Wizard’s hold on them, even if she’d never voiced it out loud.
He had been fortunate in that, at least. There had been no bond between he and his mother when the Ghosts came the year he’d been born. None of them had known why. Everyone had assumed that it had left Magicless deformed and without magic, but it had also left his mother safe from the Ghosts. No matter how he felt about his deformity, he was thankful for that, and always would be.
Tredon moved back to the front of the cavern with Ashier right behind him. Elisa joined them, sprawling in a chair with her legs kicked out in front of her, one arm linked around the back of the chair. The others were scattered throughout the cavern, lying or sitting with whatever belongings people had managed to salvage. Every face was filthy with soot, and more than a few were streaked with blood and evidence of tears. The cavern was filled with floating magelight, and Magicless could see clearly around the central part of the cavern. There were many here, but it was clear from all the empty spaces that everyone had lost someone today. He looked for his parents as he climbed heavily to his feet, spotting them on the far side of the cave.
“Alekka, I’m going to my parents,” he said. “Thank you for...for everything today. I know this isn’t what you wanted.”
“Go. We can talk later,” she said, her tone distant and her face downcast.
He made his way to where his father had settled and sank to the ground beside his parents. His mother wrapped her arms around him and held him close, and his father put his arms around them both.
“Are you both all right?” Magicless asked, his voice muffled in his mother’s shoulder.
“We lost too many, Micah. So many, but we are not hurt,” his father replied softly.
“We were so worried about you, Micah. We looked for you but couldn’t find you anywhere. You should...” she stopped, but he heard the words she swallowed. You should stay close, he knew she had been thinking. He sighed but sidestepped the usual argument as she had done.
“I’m fine. Hurt my leg a bit,” he said, gesturing to the wound on his thigh. A sluggish trail of blood still seeped from it. “Nothing a bit of salve won’t heal right up.”
“Oh, that reminds me, here,” his father said, handing him a heavy pack. “We circled back to the house before coming here just to make sure we didn’t miss you there. Thought you might need some supplies.”
Magicless rummaged through the pack, pulling out bandages and medicines for his leg. “Thank you, Da. I lost the other one somewhere. I appreciate this.”
He stretched his legs out in front of him and dressed his wound as he listened to the discussion. Everyone was exhausted and raw with grief but all of that had to be pushed aside. The decision of what to do next would be made now. Either they went to war, or they ducked their heads and rebuilt as best they could. One way or another, they’d know soon enough.
Tredon had picked up the thread of his previous rant, voice booming once again across the cavern. “The Wizard will never expect a direct attack. We travel to him and kill him where he lives, just as he does to us, but we have surprise on our side.”
Ashier, cool and logical as always, spoke up. “No one has ever outright attacked Amentis. Not as far back as the histories go. But he is old now, and as Tredon says, we have surprise on our side and we are young and strong. It is very likely we will succeed if only we dare to try. Even if we don’t, only a small group of us will be lost. We have to try. We can’t let this continue.”
At the sound of the Dark Wizard’s name, several shifted uncomfortably where they sat or lay. To speak that name was to invite him into their midst, the legends said. As the last of Ashier’s words rang out, the space erupted into a cacophony of sound.
“Haven’t we lost enough already, boy?” One querulous voice asked from out of the shadows at the edge of the light. “Our town is in ruins because of you. Many died today, again, because of you. Do you wish to destroy everything? Keep going until we’re all dead? Aren’t we missing enough of our young already with the Dark Wizard taking them all?”
“Yes, old man, we have lost enough, which is why we must fight!” Tredon responded. “How many wives, mothers, sisters, and daughters have been taken since you were a boy? How many of our infant sons and daughters have vanished into an unknown fate because of your refusal to fight back?” Tredon’s voice was hard and sharp. “You all sat by and let it happen, year after year after year. How many children have grown up without mothers because you were too fearful to act? You sit safe at home while your wives and children are taken for what dark purpose no one can know. Well, I have had enough of it!”
“How will you even find the Dark Lands?” A different voice of dissent rose up, stronger than the last. “No one knows where they lie.”
“Enough, Tredon.” Leali’s voice came drifting through the cavern. She stepped out of the shadows and into the dim edges of light. She was standing with Alekka, their hands clasped. As all eyes shifted to her she dropped Alekka’s hand and walked toward Tredon.
Her normally tall and rigid posture was bent as if she were carrying some great weight. Her face was streaked—clearly she had been crying again, and her voice was heavy with exhaustion. Tredon eyed her warily as she approached, but said nothing.
“Tredon may be brash, but he is right.” Her strident manner was muted, and Magicless felt a pulse of compassion for her despite her years of brusque dismissal of him. She carried the weight not only of her loss but the losses of all of Aclay on her shoulders, even though many had willingly supported her plan.
“We cannot continue to allow him to steal from us. We cannot continue to let him abuse us in such a way. We need to stop him. We need to protect our people.” She looked out at the crowd, pinning each and every person with her gaze as she spoke. More than a few squirmed as she turned her eyes upon them.
“Leali is right. His profound imbalance threatens everything. He must be stopped.”
Magicless’ jaw dropped in surprise as the rich, velvety tones of Alekka’s voice blanketed the room. She never spoke up in a group such as this. He was not the only one surprised. A soft murmur broke out in the room as they absorbed her words.
“But we cannot risk our villages anymore, Tredon.” She turned to look at him. “We cannot ask all the people of Aclay to pay for our actions. We go, but we go alone. And we go in search of the Bogul Noz.”
This announcement brought total silence, broken a moment later by a gnarled chuckle. “You seek the Map Maker? Everyone knows the Bogul Noz is a myth. We’re worried you’ll get us all killed but more like you’ll simply wander until you starve and die. Or make your way back to Aclay well humbled. Fool’s errand, this is. Young and foolish, every one of you.” The old man got to his feet and wandered into the shadows, his throaty laugh echo
ing in the silence he left behind.
“You won’t go alone.” Magicless spun his head at the sound of Jobin’s voice. He wondered how much he had heard. Enough, clearly.
“I go as well. Those Ragers killed my brother. I’m not going to sit by and allow his death to be in vain.”
Leali looked unconvinced, and Magicless couldn’t blame her. With his unwillingness to use his magic and now his complete inability to use it even if he wanted to, it was unlikely Jobin would be capable of exacting revenge and much more likely that he’d be a liability. But she had no authority over him, and said nothing against his volunteering. Magicless glanced over at Alekka, but her eyes didn’t even flicker.
Elisa pulled her long legs in underneath her and tugged her thick braid around to one shoulder as she stood. She gave a languid stretch, pressing her breasts out prominently, and then stood quietly for a moment as she lazily unbraided her hair. As she finished up she said lightly, “And I. Those women were stupid to get themselves taken, but I’m always up for a good adventure. This place is boring me.”
“Stupid?” Leali said, placing her hands on her hips and staring at Elisa in disgust. “How exactly are they to blame for this, Elisa?”
“Plenty of mothers over the years have not been taken. My own mother, for example. Those that are capable are not taken.” She shrugged, as if this were no difficult feat.
Leali stared at her as if she were contemplating violence. “And your sister?” she managed after some moments of silence. “Was she incompetent and stupid, too? She was taken today, I have heard. Did I hear wrong?”
Elisa had begun to re-braid her hair, but at Leali’s words she froze where she stood, her fingers buried in her plait. Perhaps this was the first she had heard of her own sister’s capture. Magicless held his breath.
“How dare you…” Elisa said, pulling her hands from her hair and pushing them out in front of her. Lightning arced from her palm and crackled between her fingers. Leali squared her shoulders and faced her straight on but did not raise a hand.