Magefall

by Stephen Aryan

  One landed in the middle of a group of raiders, scattering them like twigs while the unnaturally sticky flames set their clothes and hair alight. A few raiders started rolling around, while others tried to smother the flames, but some ran in a blind panic, spreading the blaze wherever they went. More fireballs hammered into the camp, burning flesh and scorching shelters until more than half the camp was on fire. And still more fireballs were falling.

  A loud crack echoed through the air as the front door of the log cabin blew outwards. Smoke was filling the camp, making it difficult to see more than a few steps in every direction. Some raiders were trying to draw up water from the well but were having some difficulty as the rope had been severed.

  In among the coughing and shouting, people began to scream as the horses charged out of the stables. The herd ran through the camp knocking down tents, stampeding over bodies and spreading the chaos until they burst out of the front. Those raiders who had been lingering beside the wall were too slow to move and many were ridden down. Horses jumped the wall until one stumbled in the smoke and knocked down a section of the wall. The rest took advantage and poured through the gap.

  Raiders began running from the camp as well in the wake of the animals as a final volley of fireballs fell from the sky.

  Wren stayed exactly where she was, totally focused on her shield, as the horses came thundering straight down the road towards her. All but one of them went around, avoiding her despite their panic. The hooves of the final horse clipped her shield, but the blow wasn’t severe and she was able to maintain control. When the last of them was gone she stood up and reinforced her shield again.

  A massive grey and black cloud had formed above the settlement, wreathing the surrounding trees in shadow. Their swaying limbs became the spectral arms of huge beasts dancing around the bonfire of the raiders’ camp. The fire could not be stopped and it continued to spread. Soon everything would be consumed by the flames.

  Seeing that it was a lost cause, bodies began to stream out of the settlement. Some crawled, others dragged or carried friends away from the fire and smoke. Everyone was coughing, desperate to breathe clean air. Their weapons and conflict with Wren were forgotten, but as they moved away from the blaze a few noticed her standing in the middle of the road. With a feral scream a burly woman raced towards her drawing a mace from her belt. With a sweeping gesture Wren flung her off the road. She heard the woman collide with a tree and tried not to wince at the dull crack upon impact. It could have been a tree branch or the woman’s spine.

  A few arrows rained down out of the smoke, peppering the ground all around Wren. A few impacted on her shield but they snapped, blunting the heads and turning the shafts into kindling. Boros came next with her bow and six more archers behind her on either side. All the raiders were stained with ash, bloody from injuries and on the verge of collapse. But, even now, they were more afraid of Boros than her, and quickly followed their leader’s commands. Another volley of arrows flew towards Wren and she ignored them as she had the first.

  “Surrender now,” said Wren, amplifying her voice to be heard over the crackling flames and the collapse of timbers.

  The raiders were watching her but one by one they all looked towards Boros for a decision. “Scatter,” said Boros with a snarl. That was all it took. One word. She must have planned for such an eventuality as they separated into distinct groups and ran in several directions. Those on the ground unable to run were left behind despite their cries and reaching hands. Their former friends shook them off and ran, vanishing into the trees.

  Boros was the last to go, stubborn to the bitter end. It must have been so galling for her. To be driven out of a country by a King was one thing. But to be burned out of her own home by a teenage girl was something else entirely. The hatred burning in her eyes was intense. For a moment Wren thought Boros would charge and try to kill her. Part of Wren wanted her to try, if only to beat her today and end the conflict between them, but that wasn’t the plan. Instead Boros spat on the ground and strode away into the smoke.

  A short time later half a dozen people walked up the road behind Wren and she breathed a huge sigh of relief. It hadn’t been her idea to stand alone against the raiders, but she understood the symbolic reason for it. Despite that, it hadn’t made it any less terrifying. Boros still had no idea how many people were in her community and how many of them were mages. The less information Wren gave her the better.

  “You did very well,” said Master Yettle.

  “Very convincing,” said Leonie, patting her on the shoulder. It was the smith who had summoned the huge fireball from the sky. Her knack with fire bordered on a Talent, but she claimed anyone could learn it and that her knowledge only came from working in a forge.

  “We can’t let the fire spread beyond the camp,” said Wren, worrying about the forest going up in flames.

  “We’ll take care of it,” said Leonie, walking towards the camp with Yettle and three other adults beside her. The flames began to shrink even before the smith set foot in the camp and Wren knew all fires would soon be extinguished. Master Yettle moved from body to body on the ground, tending to the wounded. There were perhaps a dozen lying in the road and she suspected there would be others inside the camp.

  “It all went to plan,” said Danoph, coming up beside her.

  “The horses?” asked Wren.

  “We managed to grab most of them down the road. I’m sure we can find the others before night.”

  “I still wonder if we should have tried to end it today,” said Wren. “Maybe we could have grabbed all of them.”

  “Perhaps, if we’d brought everyone here, but you saw how quickly they scattered. She’d planned for this.”

  Ever since Danoph had told her about Boros being chased out of Seveldrom by the King, Wren had been turning it over in her mind. Wren didn’t think she was the kind of person to make the same mistake twice. Somewhere in the back of Boros’s mind she must have been wondering about Queen Olivia of Shael. She would only tolerate the presence of the raids for so long, even with her limited resources. Eventually she would muster some soldiers to wipe out the raiders and Boros would be forced to run again. But this time she hadn’t intended to leave empty-handed. There was a second camp and a stash.

  Wren didn’t believe the money stolen from merchants and the local communities was in the burning ruins. Not one raider had tried to run back into the fire to retrieve the gold.

  It was possible Boros would decide it wasn’t worth the effort of staying in western Shael and just move on to another area or country. Part of Wren hoped that would happen, even though the raiders would then become someone else’s problem. She still wasn’t sure that when the time came she’d be able to kill.

  Her instincts told her that Boros wouldn’t leave. The raider hated her with a passion and she was not about to run. The west of Shael was as perfect a hunting ground for them as they were ever likely to find. She would regroup and then come after Wren and the others.

  “Well, it’s all set out. You’re ready for what comes next,” said Danoph.

  “Maybe.” He had more faith in her than she did in herself.

  “It’s time for me to leave,” he said.

  She’d been dreading this moment and couldn’t stop herself asking the inevitable question. “Do you have to go?”

  “You don’t need me. You know what you have to do and you have people around you who can actually help. I just get in the way,” said Danoph with a wry smile. Everyone appreciated his efforts in the community on a day-to-day basis, but his magic was so unique and limited it didn’t help with their most pressing issue.

  “I need you,” said Wren. She’d already lost Tianne and didn’t want him to go.

  “This isn’t goodbye. You’ll see me again.” He sounded so certain it was more than a little unnerving. She hugged Danoph tightly, not wanting to let go but eventually released him, wiping at her face.

  “Are you going home?”

&nb
sp; Danoph turned towards the east and took a deep breath. “Yes. I need to know why my mother sent me to the Red Tower.”

  “I hope you find some answers.”

  “Me too. I need to know more about my Talent,” said Danoph.

  “It’s not just a Talent. Your magic is something else. Something I’ve never heard of before,” said Wren, thinking back to when he’d summoned his power and given her insight into Boros’s history. She’d told Master Yettle about it as well but he’d been equally baffled.

  “Then it’s time I found out what I’m truly capable of,” said Danoph, sounding more decisive than ever before in his life.

  CHAPTER 36

  Tammy glanced at the sign above the tavern door to make sure this was the right place. The Thirsty Ferret wasn’t the nicest place in the city, far from it in fact, and as soon as she pushed open the front door a cloud of smells assaulted her nostrils.

  Dried vomit, stale beer and suspicious meat that could even be ferret. The faces of the customers were surly and suspicious, as if they expected her to steal the clothing off their backs or the beer from their mugs. The sour owner was no better. With a face riddled with warts and a mouth stained blue from venthe she didn’t make Tammy feel welcome. She merely grunted and jerked her head towards a door at the rear. It felt unusual to be out of uniform, but it had been a request she couldn’t refuse.

  With one hand resting on the plain short sword at her waist Tammy pushed open the door and followed the narrow corridor. She went past the grimy kitchen and approached the last room on the left. Before she had a chance to knock it opened to reveal the Captain of the Queen’s Royal Guards, out of uniform, of course, but she still recognised him. He inclined his head and stepped aside before taking up his post outside the door.

  The room was small to begin with but was overly cramped with just her and the Queen. In addition, there was a stack of beer barrels, boxes of old vegetables and sacks of rice. The Queen sat behind a rickety old table with her back pressed against the wall. Like the rest of the tavern the room was covered with dust and grime. Apart from the Queen the only thing that seemed out of place was the delicate green tea set on the table in front of her. Even in a plain grey dress there wasn’t a person in the city who wouldn’t recognise her.

  “Majesty,” said Tammy.

  The Queen gestured at the battered chair opposite. “Keep your voice down. The walls are thin.”

  As she sat down the chair creaked alarmingly. Tammy felt it tilt to one side and thought it might buckle under her weight. “Captain Gardner didn’t look too happy at this arrangement.”

  Morganse rolled her eyes and drained the last of her tea. “He thinks I’m taking too great a risk. I can’t walk five steps down any street in the city before I’m stopped by a dozen people. If I talk to a stranger they only tell me what they think I want to hear. They’re too afraid to speak the truth. This way I can find out what the people really think.”

  It made sense but given the current threat of rogue mages coming to the city Tammy agreed with the Captain. She’d spotted three Royal Guards dressed in plain clothes watching the street and guessed there were several inside the tavern, but, even so, it seemed risky.

  “So, tell me about Balfruss,” said Morganse, keeping her voice low.

  “He was here, briefly, but he left again this morning. There was a sighting of another of Garvey’s pupils in Zecorria.”

  “How many has he captured now?”

  “Five. One died, and four are being held in prison awaiting trial.”

  Morganse poured herself another glass of tea. “Are you sure they’re secure?”

  “Yes. For the time being, although it’s only a temporary solution.” She’d not shared the arrangements of where or how the mages were held and so far Morganse had not asked. But she would, because they both knew this arrangement could not continue indefinitely. Balfruss was an effective manhunter, but he was not an executioner. The weight of what to do with them rested with the Queen. If they had been ordinary criminals they would be put on trial for the murders they’d committed and sentenced to many years in a labour camp or hanged from the neck until they were dead. But all of them were mages and, more importantly, children. Dangerous, cruel and violent individuals, but also children who had been misled and perhaps manipulated by a powerful and charismatic mage.

  These pupils could not be put on trial in the normal fashion and even if convicted they couldn’t be punished in the traditional manner. A swift death was perhaps all that awaited them. There seemed no other alternative beyond holding them in the special cell for the rest of their lives. It was cramped with four of them and there were others still out there.

  “I haven’t made a decision. Yet.” It was clear that the decision was weighing heavily on her shoulders and Tammy didn’t envy her.

  “I have a suggestion.” It was something that had been rattling around in her head for a while now. “But it’s unprecedented here in Yerskania.”

  “Please,” said Morganse, gesturing for her to speak. “At this point we’re entering new territory.”

  “I think you should recruit Balfruss to work for you in a formal capacity.”

  The Queen chuckled but quickly stopped when she saw Tammy was serious. “Do you want me to offer him a role as the royal mage to the court?” she asked sarcastically.

  “No, I had something else in mind.”

  “I can see you’ve been thinking about this for a while. All right, I’m curious. Tell me.”

  “Magic isn’t going to go away. People blamed the Seekers and the Red Tower, and now they’re gone, perhaps for good. I’m angry and horrified at how it was done, but I can’t change the past. So, looking ahead, I think we need something new. Something different.”

  “Are you suggesting a magic school here, in Yerskania?” asked the Queen.

  “No. That was one of the problems with the Red Tower. It was wrapped in secrecy. No one knew what happened inside and it created more of a division between mages and everyone else. We need to include them, not push them to the fringes.”

  “Then what are you suggesting?”

  Tammy chose her next words carefully. She didn’t want to reveal Fray’s secret. “Treat them like everyone else. Make them sign up to the Watch and, if they excel, they can become a Guardian. I know what you’re going to say, but it’s not unprecedented.”

  Morganse sat forward in her chair. “What did you just say?”

  “I’ve been reading some of the Old Man’s journals, and based on a hunch I went further back and read those of his predecessor.” Some of that was true but the Queen didn’t need to know the whole story just yet. “There are several veiled mentions of special Guardians using unique abilities on unusual cases. Baffling mysteries or bizarre deaths that were swiftly resolved. I also have some physical proof that I can show you, if necessary.”

  “That’s quite a claim.” The Queen sipped her tea thoughtfully.

  “I need to speak to the Old Man to confirm my hunch.”

  “It’s an interesting idea, but there’s still the problem of the children. How would you teach them?”

  “Not to be indelicate, but Balfruss isn’t a young man any more. He was already a teacher at the Red Tower. I’m confident he could persuade others to come here if it was safe.”

  “It sounds idyllic, but public opinion towards magic is the worst I’ve ever seen. Bringing the rogues to justice will help a little,” conceded the Queen, “but it could be years before the hatred begins to ebb.”

  “I admit it’s not a perfect solution, but I thought I would suggest it.”

  “You’re right, we need to plan for the future. I will consider it carefully. For the time being I’ve informed all my agents to send any sightings of rogue mages directly to your office.”

  “Thank you, Majesty.”

  “I hope Balfruss can catch them all.”

  Tammy was confident he could stop them all, but the problem of what to do next loomed large in
both their minds.

  Tammy followed the Old Man through his house into the small garden at the rear. Much to her surprise she found a tidy patch of recently turned soil and small green shoots growing in uniform rows. A plum tree at the back provided some shade in the yard and a glass-fronted shed was overflowing with tools and clay pots. The Old Man pulled on a thick pair of gardening gloves and started yanking weeds out of the less tidy half of the garden.

  When he saw Tammy’s expression he grunted. “I can’t sit around all day doing nothing during my retirement.”

  “No, Sir. Of course not.” She couldn’t think of anything more tedious than gardening. Then again, at least he had some hobbies.

  “You wanted to ask me something?” he said, reading her expression.

  “I had an interesting conversation with the Queen today,” said Tammy, slowly lowering herself into one of his wooden garden chairs. Much to her surprise it didn’t creak and showed no signs of stress. At this point showing care for furniture was a lifetime habit for someone of her size.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.” The Old Man pulled up another weed and slung it onto the pile. When she didn’t reply he paused and glanced over his shoulder. “This is something about being Khevassar, isn’t it?”

  “I need an honest answer.”

  He pulled off his gloves and sat down beside her with a sigh as his joints creaked. “Ask your question.”

  “Before Fray, and before his father, were there other mages who worked as Guardians of the Peace?”

  His sly smile was answer enough. “Of course, although it’s never officially stated in the records. Like you, I was a few weeks into the role when I found a few peculiarities in the journals of my predecessor.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Oh, certain cases where a specialist Guardian was called in. They always had a codename, like the Shadow Fox, or the Red Kite, to protect their identity but it was obvious to me who they were. When I asked him about mages he told me the truth and showed me the special octagonal cell.”