Storm Crow

by T. A. Creech

  “I will intercede on your behalf, all right?” Alegan tried on a playful grin. It sagged at the edges, but that was a start.

  “Catli will ask why I didn’t find out what you were up to first.” The grumble was half serious, like Jari just figured out the same thing.

  Alegan shrugged. “Tell him you didn’t know until I started. He might believe that.”

  The disbelief in Jari’s laugh echoed off the high cliff wall on their left. “I doubt it. Catli has an uncanny ability to figure out when someone lies.”

  “A person’s body heat rises when they lie,” Alegan murmured, mind half on the conversation now that he saw where Jari was leading him.

  A great hollow depression was carved into the cliff side. Years upon years of wind and rain and tides must have done the job. The inside was smooth, glassy black, reflections of the ocean and the sky buried in the high walls. Such a magnificent sight.

  Alegan’s slow steps brought him to the opening of the sheltered niche and he slid a hand along the glass. It was silky with the barest hint of imperfection pitted in the stone. He wandered the base and took it in. The man in the black mirrored surface seemed like a ghost. Gaunt and sunless. Was this how he looked to the rest of the world?

  Once his circuit was complete, Alegan moved into the middle of the space. The overhang was behind him by a good distance, as were the sides. The village was in no danger while he worked here, especially on the higher reaches of his power.

  His friend was silent behind him. Jari must have stopped chattering when Alegan started his inspection. He pivoted in place and smiled for Jari. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “I still think Catli should know about this.” Jari shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know what to do if something goes wrong. Magecraft is not part of my knowledge.”

  “Just stand well back, as close to the waterline as you can be. If I collapse, take me back to Catli and tell him exactly what you saw. He knows what to do, I’m certain.” Alegan chuckled as Jari’s eyes widened with every word. He gave up the idea that words alone had the ability to ease Jari’s mind and swept his friend into a tight hug for a moment.

  “You are becoming dear to us, Alegan, and I’m loathed to see you harm yourself, accidentally or otherwise,” Jari grumbled into his shoulder.

  Alegan squeezed him about the shoulders once and stepped away. The pout on Jari’s face was useless though. “I’m sorry, my friend, but I have to find out just how much damage I caused with my foolish attempt.”

  Jari opened his mouth, like he wanted to ask Alegan what he meant. However, he left the question unasked and headed down to the ocean. The day was coming soon when he had to answer those questions. There was only so far he could keep his history in the dark. Alegan hoped the bare bones of the sorry tale might suffice and his new friends wouldn’t want the details of his temporary madness. Resurrecting the dead. Now, after the attempt was well and truly a failure, did he see how deep into his own grief he had fallen. On the other side, his mind was clear of the false idea. Like the great Toa had burned the madness away clean. Which was a surprise. Perhaps Catli had a thought on the power the volcano wielded, if such a feat were possible for the God-Child.

  Alegan resumed his position in the center of the niche and closed his eyes. Backlash sickness was not to be trifled with. It sucked all of a mage’s power into the wellspring of the spell work and looped the power back to the mage, twisted up in the wrong ways. Many had tried to study the phenomena, some going so far as to cause backlash to themselves on purpose, but no one had figured out more than the general way the sickness functioned.

  Resolution of the sickness was easy, if the mage survived. Well, not easy. Straightforward.

  The little ball of energy sat deep in the core of his body, below the sternum. It flickered; dull from the drain, in his mind’s eye. He relaxed when he saw it. For days Alegan felt the briefest touch of his magic and he had feared there wasn’t any left, except the ghost image of magic in his bones.

  He opened his eyes and brought his hands up, palm up in front of him. An old, old exercise came roaring to the front from his memories.

  Tiny pinpricks of magic came to his call, three to start with. One popped out of his fingertip, a spark of light and he transferred it, focused and slow like he was trying to befriend a wild cat, to the palm of his left hand. The spark crackled with a fizzing hiss, but stayed. Sweat beaded fast on his face, forehead, and upper lip damp with the effort to sustain these fledgling bits of magic.

  He drew another out of his finger, and the third a moment after. The little sparklers rested, huddled together, in his sweaty palm in a tight kitten pile. His magic lights didn’t seem to mind that his fingers trembled above them.

  The boom of the surf rebounded through his natural alcove and the sparks popped out of existence in the next breath. Sunlight blazed at the top of the wall, right before the curve into the ceiling. Alegan squinted in the glare and turned toward the ocean at his back.

  Jari sat in the black sand, perpendicular to the niche. A sizable mound of sand had been gathered in front of his spread legs. Was that a parapet?

  The sun shone much farther along its arc than Alegan was expecting. He guessed four hours had passed. His senses jolted with the surprise. That took far longer than simple magic should have.

  “About time you finished,” Jari called and waved a glittering hand above his head. “You are finished, right?”

  Alegan cuffed at his brow with the back of his hand and it came away with sticky damp. Exhaustion already tugged at his heels and fingertips. He hadn’t ever felt like this. On the other hand, he was a small child when he first learned about his power and had an abundance of energy to spare. What he wouldn’t give to turn back the world to those days.

  “Yes.” He puffed the word out, too tired to say more. Stars above, he needed a nap.

  Jari must have thought so too, because he scrambled to his feet, clods of black sand kicked up under his heels, and looped Alegan’s left arm over his shoulder. Good thing too, because Alegan’s knees turned to crumbling clay and he sagged into Jari’s side.

  His friend chuckled above his head. “Let’s get you back to Catli, then. He will not be happy with you, fair warning.”

  If Alegan had the energy to be sarcastic, he would be. All he could muster up was a grumbled, “I’m not happy with me.”

  Jari may have been understating the matter, Alegan figured out after the long walk back to his host’s home. The first clue was Catli on his doorstep with a scowl wrinkling his beautiful rosy lips. And possibly the arms folded across his chest. “Jari, what foolish thing did you drag him into?”

  “I convinced him to help me,” Alegan jumped in for the question before Jari had the chance to answer. Neither of them did anything wrong. Catli would have to take his annoyance out on Alegan, if it was necessary.

  “Help you how?” Those hazel eyes narrowed into little slits.

  Alegan scuffed his bare toes into the soft earth under his feet, but continued to meet Catli’s gaze. He wasn’t about to apologize for working on his magic. “He took me down to the sea and showed me a place I can safely regain my power. We are fine and I didn’t overtax myself.”

  Jari coughed a little into his hand, so Alegan elbowed him in the side. He knew what he looked like, tired and sweaty and swaying on his feet, but there was no reason for Jari to bring more attention to the truth.

  If ever there was a glare to wither under, the one Catli gave him had that power in it. Alegan smiled with all the sweetness he scraped together on the spot. He didn’t buckle under those eyes, though he was starting to doubt his continued ability to stand at all, much less under the glare on Catli’s face.

  Catli relented at the last possible moment and Alegan breathed a sigh of relief. Not that he didn’t appreciate Catli’s care of him, as attentive and gentle as he never expected, but if he let Catli cow him every time Alegan stretched himself, he’d never get better. Not re
ally.

  “How did that go?” Catli leaned against the wall of the house, eyebrows raised. “You look fit to drop.”

  A laugh broke out of his exhaustion. “I feel as though I am a small child, first learning my power. Without the youthful energy,” Alegan added with a wry grin. “Almost what I expected.”

  “Almost?” Catli returned his grin with a roll of his eyes. “I was going to warn you about your magic, but it seems I am too late.”

  “Next time, I will remember this and come for your counsel first.” The promise was easy to give. His heart felt physically lighter for their short exchange, with a simple enjoyment. For so long, he had wallowed in his cloak of grief. Another strip was torn from the bottom of the wretched thing weighing him down.

  “See that you do,” Catli returned. The smile belied the stern tone, so Alegan took his words in the way they were meant, a tease for his amusement.

  Catli pivoted on the spot and glided back into the hut. A cool drink sounded like a wonderful idea. Alegan glanced over at his new friend, an invitation already half out of his mouth. Jari waved him away. “I wish to see Mota and will take my leave.”

  Alegan clapped the bigger man on the arm. “Thank you, for helping me.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Jari squeezed his shoulder in return and padded off through the large, clear separation between Catli’s hut and the rest of the village.

  With Jari’s careful support gone, Alegan stumbled the few steps to the door and grabbed the large worktable the moment he came into the dim interior of his temporary home. The wooden beast ran almost the whole length of the wall, which made his journey to the kitchen a bit easier. The only real advantage between Jari’s supportive shoulder and the table was the bounce missing from every step.

  Alegan transferred to the doorway of the kitchen in a shuffle, then managed not to tumble onto his face when he shuffled again to the low kitchen table. His knees seemed to liquefy on the spot. Alegan sank down onto the floor, a fall more than a control descent. But he counted it as a blessing he hadn’t smacked his face against anything on his way down.

  Catli plunked a cup of juice in from of him. Just what he needed. Alegan smiled up at his host. “Thank you.”

  “No need, Alegan. You can do as you please here.” Catli waved a careless hand, probably to indicate the whole house. “Everything I have here is at your disposal.”

  The juice was refreshing, but a different flavor. Catli rotated through a bunch of tastes, from the looks of it. “What is this one?”

  “Dragonfruit. We trade with Susa for it, and they take our excess coconut and mango in exchange.” Catli shrugged when Alegan raised his eyebrows at him. “We always have an overabundance.”

  The intricacies of the island were still new to him, so Alegan filed the information away. Toa was a lovely place, alive and open in a way his old home was not. There were no shades of his family here to darken his every moment. Just the ones in his memory. “I would love to continue living here, after you see me fit to leave your home.”

  Catli tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as though he were considering Alegan’s exact desire. “I’m sure you can petition Zusah for a place here. We do adopt mainlanders into our village from time to time, if we feel their absence would wound our hearts.”

  This meant he would need to become invaluable to the people. But how? All the skills he had were shown in others, even his magic. There might be some difference in the way he used his power, however Catli no doubt had the same outcomes, no matter what method his fellow mage used to achieve them. He was no hand at any trade, and while the animals liked him, for whatever reason, others were better trained for the task. Alegan brought nothing unique to the village. Worse, he would have to be taught how to live on a land so different from one he was used to.

  “None of that,” Catli broke his whirling thoughts apart with a hard pat to the back of his hand, spread out on the table between them.

  “Of what?” Alegan asked, eyes still on his drink.

  “Whatever idea it is that has you making that sad face.” Catli patted his hand again, continued until Alegan looked up, his mouth in a flat line.

  As Catli’s warm hand settled in a comfortable curve over his, Alegan looked back at his juice with a sigh. Maybe if he stared long enough, his host might drop it. Maybe if he stared at the juice long enough, he might stumble across the secret of the world. He figured the second had a better chance of happening, than the first.

  Alegan twisted his captured hand until it was palm up and lifted his eyes. “There is no place for me here,” he confessed. “All of my talents are more than adequately covered by islanders, which means I have nothing to offer and no reason why the village would have a need for me.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Catli slotted his fingers between Alegan’s. “When a visitor or guest becomes too dear to the village for us to feel anything except sorrow when they go, we bring them into our family. A person does not need to be useful, like a worker.” Catli frowned as talked. “A child does not have to be useful for a family to bring one into their home. The same is true for others.”

  “I see,” Alegan murmured. He had never dealt with children that weren’t blood related to their parents. At least, he didn’t think he had. The mechanics of adoption were not in his experience.

  “Put it out of your mind for now. You will be here for a long while yet and don’t need to worry about such things.” Catli let go of his hand and sat back. “Besides, I’m sure you have a life to reclaim once you are well enough to return home.”

  “Not as such.” Alegan mirrored his host, sitting up straighter. There was no chair to lean back in and sitting without support was hard on his back. He was getting used to the change though. “All of my friends and family disappeared somewhere in my mourning. Most of the last four years is a fog.”

  Catli nodded with Alegan’s words. “I have seen it. Some can’t handle the face of grief and some are pushed away by the grieved. When my father died, my mother was the same.”

  “Where is she?” Alegan winced at his rudeness. “You do not have to answer me.”

  The laugh his outburst earned him was beautiful, smooth, and musical like the wind through trees. “She’s taken leave to Aelcua. The village there has had a dreadful bout of a strange plant sickness and she is working her magic to fix it.”

  “Your mother is a mage too?” Alegan had a hard time picturing the woman who could possibly raise the man in front of him.

  “As my father was, yes. My mother Laah is a Singer, while my father was a Dancer like we are. I take more after him, than her in power.” Catli rolled his eyes after a moment. “Though I am more in her physical image.”

  Words of that sort meant there was an underlying, touchy subject. Alegan had heard observations like that before. His wonderful Jasa was of the same mold as him and more often than not, some crass barbarian made a point of turning her looks into a mockery. By some happy coincidence, Jasa smiled in the cretin’s face and thanked them for agreeing her father was handsome, her by extension. Alegan’s heart clenched, but the memory still brought a smile to his face.

  “Then she must be very beautiful,” Alegan said. Thoughts screeched to a halt and Alegan bit hard on his tongue. How blunt! True, but unnecessary.

  “I think so, though I don’t agree I share her best features.” Catli shrugged and finished his drink.

  As Catli retrieved the juice jug, Alegan wanted to ask more about his host’s life. He was sure there were all sorts of interesting stories from a healer who was actually a master fire mage. And living on a sentient volcano! Gadal would’ve been beside herself, wanting to ask too many questions at the same time.

  “Tell me about them?” Catli murmured as he poured more of the delicious dragonfruit into their cups. He put the jug on the table and sat down with an open smile, small and hopeful.

  Alegan balked for a moment, before he demurred. “I don’t know if I can, Catli, after holding them in s
ilence for so long.” He had barely found the courage to speak their names, most days, when he bothered to talk at all.

  “You need to. Your memory of them will fester in you if you only hold on to the grief.” Catli looked earnest, kind in the face of Alegan’s refusal. “What was your family’s favorite way to spend a summer day?”

  “Tima liked to chase the dragonflies through the daisies close to our home in Sparrow. There was a big field of them just down the main road.” Alegan swallowed down a mouthful of juice to make the lump in his throat recede. “When the petals where first open, Gadal packed up a big lunch and we would all eat in the flowers. They would make flower necklaces and crowns for each other.”

  Catli sat in silence, which made Alegan fidget with the rim of his cup, running a forefinger along the bright red. “Jasa would bring her paper and pencils with her and draw the trees, a sliver cut out of the trunks. She filled the empty space with cogs and strings, like they were puppets in her imagination.”

  “I bet they were wonderful renditions,” Catli said.

  “Of course, Gadal smiled and keep our girls under her watchful eye while I took turns with each of them. I never had the time I wanted with them.” Alegan covered his eyes with his right hand, in an effort to hide the way his eyes prickled.

  Catli was nice enough to wait until Alegan felt the tears gathering to recede. “Why?”

  He dropped his hand back to the table and scowled. “I was the only fire mage in our town and was always sought after for miscellaneous things. If the blacksmith’s forge lost its flame, they would come to me. Or if someone needed a massive pile of deadfall disposed of, I was the best for the job. Something or another always popped up for my attention.”

  “Such is the life of us mages.” Catli shrugged. That was a hard truth. For some, their magic wasn’t exactly a gift, though not a curse. A heavy duty, in Alegan’s opinion. Other mages lived in his old home, this was true, but he had been the only trained fire mage for a good distance. The only Master, as well. He had been recruited, many times, to apprentice a young mage for their first years, as they began learning to call up their power.