by Jamie Davis
Later that night, Ricky’s mother worked in earnest to teach Ricky all she knew about using the darker Sable magic, the magic that could affect living things.
When Ricky later looked back at his time in the keep, he enjoyed these lessons most of all. Every couple of days, his mother would venture forth in search of food, and to bring back some small living creature he could use to practice his newfound abilities.
Sometimes he had to settle for an insect or even some sort of small rodent. But occasionally, Mother would find a stray dog or cat. Those were the times he felt he could truly test his powers. She taught Ricky a series of spells which, when laid upon a creature’s mind, allowed the caster to move the creature around, control its thoughts and actions.
One day, while commanding a cat to climb from perch to perch along the bookshelves lining a sanctuary wall, a thought occurred to Ricky.
“Mommy, can these spells be used to control men as well as animals? I should think the two are not very different.”
“It is complicated, Ricky. Chanters cannot be controlled. At least not like that. Our minds are tuned to magic in a way that protects us from another chanter using their power to overcome us. But middlings are weak, with anemic minds that cannot deflect the spells. My grandmother once told me a story of Fenris using these powers to control the middling king, once he’d defeated Merlin.”
“I think it would be better to be the king than to control him.”
“There’s a lesson to be learned there, Ricky. Control the king and you can have whatever you want, even if it’s believed to be wrong or bad by some people. And if the people want someone to blame, the king is there to take it, not you. Fenris had it right. Never stick your neck out for anything. Someday, when you are older, remember that. Work behind the scenes so the leaders you control can take the blame.”
“I’m going to be just like Fenris when I grow up, Mommy. Someday, I’ll control the king.”
“Perhaps you will, my son, perhaps you will.”
———
Towards the end of their stay in Merlin’s sanctuary, Ricky noticed a change come over his mother. She became more worried whenever she had to leave the room. Ricky was never allowed to go outside. But he was eleven now — he could tell when something was wrong.
“Mommy, what is happening outside?” Ricky asked one day when she returned from one of her trips. “You never let me leave the keep anymore, and when you come back, you are always tired and dirty.”
“It is terrible outside our sanctuary, my son. Magic is failing and the middlings are rounding up all the chanters they can find to put them on trial for manufactured crimes. There are also rumors of strange creatures roaming the eastern wilds, coming across the channel from the mainland. They kill and destroy all that they find and the soldiers cannot turn them back. I fear the time is fast approaching when we must move from here and try to find a safe place to live in the west.”
“Where will we go? I want to stay here.”
“We cannot stay here much longer. I heard a middling woman at the market today say there were ships leaving from Liverpool harbor for the United Americas. The ships are taking people away from here before the English government collapses entirely, like the rest of Europe. Once the magic stops working, everything else will stop as well. All the food will be used. There will be no more electricity or anything else to keep civilization going. Once everything fails, the creatures from across the channel will claim the land.”
“What are the monsters like?”
“I have not seen them for myself, but I once overhead a soldier describe them. He’d been to the mainland before the fall. Some are shaped like men, but with talons on their hands and sharpened teeth in their mouths. Others ran on all fours like dogs but were larger and more powerful than any wolfhound. All were evil and sought to destroy all living things. The soldier called them ‘creatures of the Fell.’ I tried to read his mind to see where he’d found that word. It is one I’d heard but couldn’t remember where. Unfortunately, his memory only showed another officer offering the name.”
“I know where there is mention of the Fell,” Ricky announced, pride filling him that he could answer this question. “It is in one of the histories kept here and written in the ancient tongue.”
Ricky stood from his supper and searched the shelves. Then, reaching up, he pulled down a large, leather-bound tome and set it on a nearby table. He flipped through the pages until he found the passage he sought.
“Here it is,” Ricky announced.
“… For all things must have balance. Because there are the Fae, there must also be the Fell. It is the magic that keeps them separated and yet binds them to each other. One represents the light and the other the darkness within each man’s soul. Once the Fell has taken the land, only the champion of the Fae may cast them out.”
“What do you think it means, Mommy?”
“That we must prepare to be on our way sooner than I thought. I fear the time has come when the powers of the Fell are taking the land from us, and since the Fae haven’t walked the land since before the time of Merlin, there will be no one to stop the Fell once they are allowed to enter this land.”
She pushed back from the supper table and looked around the sanctuary. Then she started gathering a few things from the shelves and putting them into their backpacks. Ricky stepped away from the tome to help her.
“I’ve never been on a ship before. What’s it like?”
“Neither have I, Ricky. It will be another adventure for us to enjoy together. But first, we must get to the ships. I don’t know how many there are, or how many people will be allowed on the journey. We must hurry if we are to get there in time to find our way on board.”
“How will we pay our way? We have no money.”
“I will try and find a wealthy middling who would like to use my services as a seer. If I can gain their confidence, I’m sure I can convince them to purchase passage for us both.”
“You’re planning to use Sable, aren’t you?”
Ricky’s mother stopped and looked at him. “Only if I must, Ricky. Remember, every use of Sable makes you want to use it more. Magic and the minds of others is our birthright as children of Merlin, but it is not without risks, even to us.”
“When do we leave?”
“Before dawn. I don’t want to be caught on the streets in daylight. We look too poor to be anything but chanters. There is a daily mail train on the edge of town leaving just before first light. We will try and find a way onto that train.”
Mother smoothed an errant curl on his head, then cupped his chin, lifting his head and studying his face. She smiled after a moment and leaned forward, kissing him on the forehead.
“You’ve grown up so much this past year here in our little sanctuary. Perhaps someday you’ll return to find use for it all: the sword, the throne, and all that is kept here. Now get to bed. It’ll be morning soon enough, and then we must be off.”
CHAPTER 3
Ricky’s sleep was far from peaceful in his final night in the sanctuary.
He had vivid dreams of a mist-covered lake and a lady there, clad all in white, trying to convince him to follow her somewhere. Each time, his mother would come and take his hand, pulling him away from both the lady and the lake.
The lady isn’t your destiny. Your path lies in another direction.
Later, he dreamed of terrible creatures tearing men and women apart in their frenzy to destroy all they encountered; behind them, in the shadows, was a dark figure commanding them, pushing them forward to continue their wanton destruction.
Ricky tried to turn away from the dark figure. The creature seemed to be watching. The last bit of the remembered was the dark figure pointing toward him, his deep, gravelly voice booming inside Ricky’s mind.
“Summon me. The time is coming.”
Ricky shouted in alarm. The arm was gripping his shoulder, pulling him closer.
He pulled away, screaming before he realized
it was Mother, waking him for their early morning journey to begin.
“Ricky, it’s alright. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. You startled me. Is it time to go already?”
She nodded and turned back to her last-minute packing.
Ricky said nothing. Nightmares were just bad dreams, and talking about them would only fill her with worry. Mother was a seer, and such things weighed on her more than they might another person. Besides, Ricky didn’t like it when she turned her abilities on him.
After a small breakfast of bread and cheese, they gathered their packs and the few other scant items they could stuff into their pockets. Then it was time to leave.
Ricky turned and looked around the sanctuary. He wanted a place like this of his own someday. Perhaps he could even return here and retrieve some of the books and items from his youth. That would be nice. Someday, when he was rich and powerful enough, he would return.
Together, he and his mother marched back up the broad stone stairs to the secret exit in the keep’s outer wall. Mother went first, checking the passageway between the buildings to make sure no one was there.
Then she returned, motioning for Ricky to follow her out into the early morning darkness. He watched as she closed and sealed the door behind them for the final time, setting the sequence to memory for the day when he would return to claim his birthright.
Mother led the way, checking both ways to make sure there was no one else on the street before stepping out from the passageway and starting down the avenue towards the train station at the edge of town.
The world had changed since he’d last been outside. Windows looked like broken teeth in the city’s abandoned buildings. A dog barked in the distance, but Ricky didn’t see or hear a single human.
As they drew nearer to the station, he heard the rumbling of the idling locomotive engine. They reached the station without incident.
They stood in the alley next to the station. Ricky could see the mail train, its boxcars standing open as the mail and few packages from Filby loaded on board. Mother turned to him and put a finger to her lips then pointed to the ground.
Stay here and be quiet.
Ricky nodded and Mother turned away from him, slipping around the corner and walking to the rearmost car, where the conductor was staring at his watch.
Mother’s fingers twisted, waving in the air as she approached the man. Flows of magic wrapped the man’s head.
Right before she reached him, the conductor froze, still staring at his watch.
The spell had achieved the desired effect.
Mother leaned forward and whispered in the conductor’s ear. Then he nodded, never taking his gaze from the watch.
Mother turned and looked back to Ricky, waving for him to come forward and join her. He picked up his bag and ran. She released her spell on the conductor just as he arrived at her side.
“Ah, yes. You must be our special passengers,” the conductor said. “You may stay back here in the conductor’s car with me. Climb aboard quickly, now. We must be going. The trains must run on time, you know.”
The conductor stepped away, moving down the line of cars to make sure the porters closed and latched each one.
Ricky’s mother tugged at his arm. “Come. We have to board before he returns. The spell will have worn off by then and I don’t have the power to cast it again. If we’re standing here where we don’t belong, it will trigger the memory of what I did.”
Ricky climbed into the conductor’s car, following Mother. “Won’t the same thing happen when he sees us in the conductor’s car?” he asked, pulling himself up onto the metal steps leading to the car’s entrance.
“I laid a suggestion that we belong in the car. That should last as long as we stay out of his way, without interrupting his routine.”
Mother led Ricky inside the car where there was a small coal stove, a built-in table and bench arrangement, and a small electric refrigerator. Along one wall was a pair of bunkbeds with thin mattresses, a pillow, and folded blankets on top.
She pointed to the bunks. The bottom looked like it had been recently slept in while the upper bunk did not. “Climb up there and help me hand up our packs.”
“Won’t he see us up here?”
“He will, but he’ll think we belong. As long as we’re quiet and don’t disturb him, his mind will tell him we’re supposed to be here, just like the folded blankets. Now hurry—he’ll be back any moment.”
Mother had just clambered up onto the bunk beside him when the conductor returned. The train lurched to a start as he entered. His eyes roamed the room. He smiled and nodded but said nothing.
Then the conductor pulled out a pot from next to the coal stove and filled it with water from a tank mounted on the wall. He set the pot atop the stove and sat to read a newspaper he pulled from inside his coat pocket.
Ricky watched in silence as the man sat there reading until the tea water boiled, the pot whistling like a tiny train engine. He rose and fetched a tin cup and some tealeaves from a shelf above the table. He scooped some of the tea into a diffuser, set it into the cup, then poured the water. The scent of steeping tea filled the small room and rumbled Ricky’s stomach.
The conductor sipped while reading his paper until the tea was finished. Ricky and Mother sat still on the top bunk, watching him go about his morning routine, oblivious to their presence, his only acknowledgment that single nod when he’d first arrived.
Ricky marveled at the power a chanter could have over middlings. He would have to practice if he ever expected to be like Mother. But it would be worth it. He spent the trip pondering, knowing that if he could commit the spell to memory, he could one day improve upon it.
They finally climbed down from their bunks after the conductor left the car during one of the stops along the route. The stowaways stretched their legs and used the little toilet alcove to relieve themselves before climbing back onto their perches. Then the conductor returned and so did their silence.
During one of the stops, Ricky asked Mother how far they would take the train.
“We’ll ride all the way to Liverpool if we can. If not, we’ll have to make the rest of the way on foot. It all depends on how long my spell can hold his mind.”
“There should be a way to permanently place a spell in a person’s mind so that the control never passes. That would be much more useful.”
His mother gave him Ricky an odd look, then smiled. She reached out and tousled his hair. “Well, smartypants, perhaps you’ll learn to do that someday. But I think you’ll find it difficult. People’s minds are too plastic, their thoughts too transient to give the spell purchase for that long. That’s why it wears off. People just sort of forget the layers of memory over which the spell is placed.”
At the next stop, they saw evidence that Mother’s spell was wearing thin. The conductor boarded the train car after the mail was loaded, frowning when he saw them. No nod this time. Only the frown. Then he was distracted by something and he settled in his seat, slowly working a crossword.
Ricky’s mother leaned close and whispered, “We’ll have to disembark at the next station. It will have to be far enough. Be ready to follow me when he leaves the next time.”
Ricky nodded and settled back, watching the man work his puzzle.
He was nervous about what might happen if the conductor should notice them and throw them from the train before they reached the next town. He wondered if they shouldn’t have left the train one town earlier.
The conductor stood at the next station, stepping through the door at the rear of the car as the train slowed to a stop. Ricky and Mother hopped down, then hefted the backpacks onto their shoulders.
There was an awful lot of noise coming from outside the train. It sounded like a massive crowd of people shouting something in unison. Ricky couldn’t make out what they were saying, their words muffled by the train engines nearby.
But the angry mob of men, women, and children crowded the
passenger platform. Police and armed soldiers pushed them back. Some carried signs with slogans like The End is Near and Death to Magic, Death to Chanters.
The crowd’s ferocity scared him. Ricky looked around for some place to go and escape the hateful crowd. Those that couldn’t board were shouting insults, threatening the smaller group of chanters lining up for the segregated cars.
“That train must have refugees from the eastern lands.” Mother looked for a moment like she might take Ricky to join the small segregated group of chanters. But then she shook her head. “It’s too full, and there’s no more room for anyone else. That crowd will look for someone to blame if they can’t get out of town ahead of what’s coming.”
“Won’t the police and soldiers be enough to keep them under control?” Ricky pointed to the line of troops and officers lining the train platform, keeping the middling mob away from the smaller group of chanters.
“I doubt it. They’re all just as scared. Come on. We need to get away from here.”
Even as she said it, the crowd turned.
The first blows were thrown at the police and soldiers trying to keep the mob in check. The thin line of uniformed men and women parted under the pressure. Then the angry crowd pushed through to attack the frightened chanter families clustered on the far end of the platform.
The angry people rained blows on the defenseless magic users, all the hatred and blame for the country’s plight coming to a head.
The crowd spilled over the platform’s edge and onto the tracks.
A dozen or so people pointed toward Ricky and his mother, shouting. “There’s more chanter scum over there. Get them!”
“Run, Ricky! Run!”
Mother grabbed his hand and they ran for a break in the train yard fence. There was a cluster of warehouses. Maybe they could lose their pursuers there.
The gravel railroad ballast made it hard to run. Falling would end their flight forever. But there was nothing else they could do. Their pursuers were getting closer.