Magic After Dark: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Margo Bond Collins

  Lash’s body went rigid and he turned away, working to avoid eye contact with Ana.

  Though she wasn’t sure what any of that had meant, she found herself more curious about…

  “Are you the one that did that to him?” she blurted out, pointing back at Lash’s injuries.

  Ooh. Kitty’s showing claws. We finally going to kill somebody?

  The old man glanced back at Lash and, catching both Ana and her thoughts off guard, started to laugh. “My dear child,” he offered around his cackles, “if I’d decided to see harm done to your friend, I wouldn’t be that gentle.”

  That’s gentle? the thoughts sounded almost impressed in Ana’s mind. We like this guy.

  Enough from you, Ana scolded, then, addressing the old man again, said, “I see. So who are you? And why are you helping us?”

  Aderyn looked over at her. “He’s the—”

  “I’m more than capable of speaking for myself, young man,” the old man snapped. “Now pack your car and gel your head or something. Let me have a word with the sibyl-girl.”

  “Gel my…” Aderyn shook his head and turned away, mumbling.

  Lash had a laugh at that.

  “I’m the almaealij alkabir,” he explained, “the Great Wizard of this city and these people.”

  Try saying that five times fast.

  Quiet. Ana shivered with irritation.

  The old man, noticing this, only cocked his head slightly in response.

  Ana stared back, unsure of what to say or do.

  “You’ve caused quite a ruckus from the looks of things,” the almaealij alkabir finally said, nodding first to Aderyn and his ongoing efforts to, from the looks of things, stuff his entire life into the trunk of his car and then to Lash, who seemed more intent on watching the two of them. As the attention fell on him, however, his right hand fell away from his opposite wrist.

  What is it that he keeps fidgeting with? the thoughts prattled. And can we burn it?

  Leave him be. Ana, in an effort to distract the awful thoughts, turned back toward Aderyn as he worked to get the trunk closed around its cargo. “What is he doing?” She paused, catching herself thinking out loud.

  “You don’t know yet?” the almaealij alkabir asked. “He’s only been repeating it since he walked in. He’s preparing to leave.”

  “Leave?” Ana’s eyes widened. “Like, for good? I thought he was only going to help take us back to—”

  The almaealij alkabir leaned forward in his seat. “Do you realize the implications of what he’s been caught up in? The severity of all of this?”

  Ana shook her head.

  “What would happen if you or one of yours allowed a mage to simply wander through your peoples’ greatest secrets? Every treasure, every prize, everything; every detail and artifact that you all hold most sacred? Would your leaders be pleased to know of this trespass?”

  Another head shake.

  “What of the secrets that are hidden with more than lock and key? The ones that your people would use their greatest tricks to keep; the ones that they’d die to protect? What response would be earned if one of your own was caught allowing one of ours to see that much?”

  Ana looked down and trembled.

  The almaealij alkabir nodded.

  “I’ve seen fit to allow the two of you to leave with your lives,” he explained. “But Aderyn, who would likely face several death penalties for what’s taken place tonight, must also leave.” He glanced over, and the young mage’s back tensed as though he felt the old man’s gaze upon him. Ana wouldn’t doubt it. “He’s been banished, but so that he might be spared a worse fate.” Then, looking back at her, he said, “And I came here to figure out why you entered our city—enabling another of your kin to do the same—and compelled one of ours to spare your life and protect you and yours.”

  Ana, fighting a well of tears that threatened to spill at that moment, held out her left arm to the almaealij alkabir.

  There. Let her own secrets be exposed to him.

  Lash listened in—trying very hard not to seem as though he was listening in—as Ana told her story. Though it all seemed a bit surreal, what was even more unbelievable was the possibility of Ana going to these lengths for anything less.

  Ana could have said that she’d sprouted wings and flown off to the moon to drink arsenic-laced tea with spaghetti-worshipping aliens and Santa Claus, and, provided there was the even more unbelievable detail that she’d first done something as brash and dangerous as stow away in a stranger’s car, Lash would have believed it.

  Ana, who he’d once watch break her arm falling from the top of a neighbor’s camper in an effort to get a kid’s lost Frisbee. Ana, who returned lost belongings to outsiders and scolded others for not doing the same. Ana, who others called “dull” and who, herself, thought that others deserved a moment of glory more than she; who would even go to great lengths to help others achieve that moment for little or no credit.

  If that Ana said that a murderous curse that was poisoning her thoughts was threatening to get her banished and that the young mage seemed the only way to free herself of it, then—dammit—Lash knew that to be the one and only truth.

  Not that sneaking into the guy’s car had proven any help in the long run, though.

  The mage, Aderyn, had finished packing halfway through Ana’s story and spent the rest of the time leaning, arms folded across his chest and legs crossed at his ankles, against his car. The almaealij alkabir, though, spent the entirety of the story leaning forward in his seat, eyes glued to the bizarre mark on Ana’s arm, and offering the occasional nod or “uh huh” as she spoke. Then, when the captivating tale wound down with “…and that’s it,” the old man finally set a hand on either side of Ana’s arm—sandwiching the mark between his palms—and studied it with a closeness that seemed uncomfortable even to watch.

  If Ana minded, however, she didn’t let it show.

  But that was the sort of person she was, Lash figured.

  “Bad magic,” the almaealij alkabir muttered after the awkward moment stretched on for an even more awkward period of time.

  Starting to think you’d fallen asleep, old timer, Lash thought to himself, starting to fold his own arms but stopping when he remembered that Aderyn had already beaten him to it.

  He tried to discreetly set himself into a position that was neither obvious nor uncomfortable. In doing so, he found himself feeling all the more obvious and uncomfortable. Finally, burdened by his own uncertainty, he let out a deep breath and began rolling his bracelet between his fingers.

  The process, as it always did, eased his body and his mind.

  Until he caught Aderyn watching his meditative process with a knowing eye.

  “Very, very bad magic.” The almaealij alkabir’s words provided a much needed distraction, and Lash quickly looked away from the young mage’s judgmental gaze to listen in. “Can’t say I’ve seen anything like this before, but there’s always stories.”

  “What stories?” Aderyn asked, unfolding his arms to pat his trunk. “Because nothing in the book”—the way he said “the book” made it sound as though there were only one worth referencing, and Lash wondered how much truth was in that thought—“even remotely hinted toward anything like this.”

  Lash hurried to cross his arms and felt a swell of both relief and satisfaction at not only claiming a comfortable pose but stealing it away from the arrogant young mage.

  “No,” the almaealij alkabir chortled and shook his head, “I don’t suppose it would. But if we gauged everything that was based on what that book claims to be then we’d be living in a very different world.”

  Aderyn looked mortified by this and shook his head. “Then there’s more that the book doesn’t tell of?”

  “Oh my, yes,” the old man laughed, either not noticing or not caring what the confession meant to Aderyn. “More than what is, I’m sure.”

  “But why?” Aderyn demanded.

  The almaealij alkabir shrug
ged. “If every sacred text included the details that its followers were better off not knowing then they’d never have any followers, would they? People don’t want to be scared by the materials that are meant to inspire or empower them. Defeats the entire purpose.” He shifted to scratch his hip and sighed inwardly. “Mages have always sought to feel a sense of control,” he explained. “Control over our fates, control over the outcomes of this-or-that, control over weather and nature. It’s what makes our magic possible: the belief that we can control those things, that nothing is beyond that control.” He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “A pocket spell probably wouldn’t even work if the person casting it doubted the security it was supposed to represent.”

  The almaealij alkabir raised his hand toward Ana and said, “If you were to reveal yourself here while another mage was casting such a spell, it’d likely fizzle out and become nothing but words and gestures.” He dropped his arm and nodded toward her arm. “If this sort of thing was documented—magic without limits; without purpose—then all of this—everything that life as a mage represents,” he nodded toward the trunk that contained Aderyn’s book, “and what we’ve spent so long documenting—would be meaningless. Suddenly there’d be no motive to push for the training and discipline, and, even if there was, what use would any of it present if and when the likes of you showed up?” he finished, nodding up toward Ana.

  “The likes of me?” she repeated.

  “Well not you in particular,” the almaealij alkabir corrected. “You seem…well, nice. Nice and naïve.”

  “I beg your—”

  “Don’t get huffy,” the old man held up a hand to stop her. “Naivety isn’t always a bad thing. In this case it’s why I trust you, which is why he’s still living”—he nodded toward Lash and then pointed back at Aderyn—“and why he won’t be facing an execution tomorrow morning. Being naïve of all this is a good sign that you’re not looking to use this new power against anybody.”

  “I would never,” Ana admitted.

  “I know,” he said with a nod. “I said that. But others aren’t like you. Others might get something like this and roll with it; go on a killing spree or start taking whatever they wanted or, you know, trying to take over the world or whatever. And, with what I’ve seen, it wouldn’t take much for somebody with that power to do that. They could do it without fear of anybody trying to stop them. Sure, some mages might step up to fight back, but we’ve got limits. You don’t. It’d be a lost battle before it even started. So, with that in mind, imagine you’re an ancient mage that maybe had some inkling—the slightest suspicion—that something like this was out there or even remotely possible. Would you risk the integrity of the future of your people by mentioning it? Would you threaten the faith or discipline that’s demanded to continue that way of life? Would you be willing to invite the novice mages of future generations to pursue something so dangerous?” he asked with a shrug of his old shoulders before answering. “Probably no, right?”

  Ana said nothing, but in her silence she knew that the almaealij alkabir and the others knew that he was right in his assumption.

  Aderyn looked down, seeming evermore haunted by these new details. “So how much of what we are is based in lies?”

  “Probably the same as what most people are kept going by,” the almaealij alkabir shrugged. “Fifty-fifty.”

  “And how much of that is a lie,” Lash asked, rather enjoying how unsettled the young mage seemed to be by this revelation.

  “All of it,” the almaealij alkabir admitted. “But it makes it sound better, doesn’t it?”

  “Do you not realize how much this is upsetting him?” Ana asked, glaring at the old man as she tilted her head toward Aderyn.

  Everyone turned their focus to the young mage, who, under the weight of their attention, folded his arms across his chest and looked away.

  Son of a…Lash cursed inwardly and began wondering whether it was worth it to even try the awkward process over again.

  “He needs to learn”—the almaealij alkabir said, talking about Aderyn as though he weren’t there even though he was looking directly at him—“that there will always be upsetting truths to be encountered. It pays to have a thick skin and a willingness to adapt.” Then, looking down, he added, “And, unfortunately, that’s a lesson that will have to be learned firsthand from this point forward.” He struggled to stand then, grunting every inch of the way. “You’re training with live rounds now, kids. So to speak.”

  “Is there nothing more you can tell us of the mark?” Aderyn demanded, pushing off from his car in an effort to block the almaealij alkabir from reaching the exit.

  The old man stopped and looked up at the young mage. “Bad magic. Little known. Life can be upsetting.” He shrugged and asked, “What more is there to know?”

  Aderyn threw his arms up. “What more is there? How about what it is? What it does? How to get rid of it?”

  The almaealij alkabir turned back toward Ana and, pointing back toward Aderyn, said, “What part of ‘Bad magic. Little known. Life can be upsetting’ wasn’t clear?”

  Ana’s face shifted, and Lash realized that she’d been hoping for answers to those questions, as well. Suddenly taking any joy in Aderyn’s grief felt wrong.

  Seeing this, the almaealij alkabir sighed and turned back to Aderyn. “Listen,” he said, “stories of curses like these, they never end well. Sometimes those afflicted are tainted and their souls turn sour from it.”

  Lash noticed Ana shift uncomfortably at that.

  “Other times,” the almaealij alkabir went on, not noticing, “others are forced to step in and take action to ensure the safety of themselves and those around them.”

  It was Lash’s turn to shift uncomfortably.

  The almaealij alkabir shrugged. “And then there are the times when those afflicted choose to fix the problem themselves.”

  “And how do they do that?” Lash hurried to ask, seeing a possible solution there.

  Aderyn was already shaking his head at him.

  The almaealij alkabir turned his neck to face him and gave a solemn shrug. “Some through isolation, I suppose, but many…well, let’s just say that there are no tales that tell of what sort of lives they live after they act.”

  Lash felt his body go numb and cold.

  The almaealij alkabir looked between the three, taking in all of their paled faces, and shook his head. “Like I said, there will always be upsetting truths to be encountered.” He began to step past Aderyn and head for the door, “It pays to have a thick skin and a willingness to adapt.”

  A long, silent moment passed with the sound of the almaealij alkabir’s shuffling steps tolling like the ticking of a clock.

  “It also pays,” he said in a voice so calm and low that the three didn’t seem to notice at first, “to visit the Library every now and again.”

  And with that, the almaealij alkabir let himself out through the door to Aderyn’s garage.

  Chapter 12

  “So there may actually be more information somewhere about all of this?” Ana asked from Aderyn’s back seat.

  After all the disappointing responses she’d been getting, first from her own people and then from Aderyn, his book, and the almaealij alkabir, the mage’s ideas gave Ana hope. Only after the question was out in the open did she realize there had been quite a few maybes and possiblys in his musings.

  “It certainly seems that way,” Aderyn said, not sounding entirely pleased with that fact.

  Ana wished she felt upset at his apprehension, but, since it would be more proof that the world he’d known was broken, she couldn’t blame him.

  In that way, she supposed, they weren’t all that different. For both of them, everything had changed—their entire lives uprooted and cast aside—with no real explanation.

  Well, Ana hadn’t been provided an explanation, at least. Aderyn had been offered a farewell speech that unraveled everything he knew and took to heart. And even that had been, by the almae
alij alkabir’s own words, a lie. Ana figured they were kindred spirits, both banished, both searching for answers.

  And then there was Lash, who’d only followed Ana because she’d been acting strangely and because he’d meant to bring her back. Though she was certain that he’d be welcomed back with open arms, how they’d respond to him arriving with the cursed and banished daughter of their voivode and the mage who had, for all intents and purposes, driven away with both of them was something of a mystery Ana would sooner leave unsolved. In all likelihood, his involvement with either of them would mark him as tarnished in some form or another, but both of them…

  Ana wasn’t certain what fate would await for somebody in those circumstances. Nor was she eager to dwell on the thoughts.

  He was likely as condemned now as she.

  And it was all her fault.

  Our fault? the urge to laugh caught in her throat. He’s the dumbass that followed us.

  Ana’s heart sank as she realized that she didn’t have the desire to silence the dark thoughts. She wasn’t certain if this was because she was too exhausted with trying or if she was actually beginning to agree with them, but in either case it didn’t bode well. Either she was already growing weak against them or beginning to succumb to them.

  And then what sort of person would she become?

  “So why do you think your people chose to put out a book of lies?”

  The words had erupted past Ana’s lips with the same suddenness as the thoughts, but this time everyone was privy to their ugliness.

  Both Lash and Aderyn seemed shocked by the sheer brazenness of what had been said, but, judging from the set of Aderyn’s shoulders and the painful silence that followed, there was much more he was feeling about it.

  “You said it yourself,” Aderyn finally said, steering them onto another road that looked exactly the same as all the others. “Even though mages claim to be ready for any possibility, they apparently like to blind themselves to the possibilities that they’d have no control over.”