Magecraft

by Antoine Henderson

  After several moments of thought, a knock on the door alerted Andrades to Agent Mauthe's arrival.

  “Enter.”

  The door swung open and Edgar led Agent Mauthe and Agent Castle of the M.A.N.A. into the study.

  “This is quite a surprise. I wasn’t expecting any company tonight, least of all Agents of the M.A.N.A.,” said Andrades. “Have a seat.”

  “Andrades Archibald IV,” said Agent Mauthe, her voice dripping with disdain.

  “Agent Mauthe, how are you? How’s the new job at behind a desk? I hope it’s to your satisfaction?”

  “There’s only one thing that will satisfy me—”

  “Lord Archibald,” Agent Castle interrupted. “Agent Mauthe is here as a consultant to assist me in my investigation. I need to ask you a few follow-up questions if you don’t mind.”

  Andrades smiled. “Agent Castle, congratulations on the promotion. I couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more. I’ll answer anything you want to know, please.”

  He offered them seats before sitting on the couch across from them and crossing his legs. Agent Mauthe didn’t take her piercing blue eyes off Andrades as she and Agent Castle sat down. Andrades saw the contempt and hatred in her eyes and smiled out of pure enjoyment.

  When they last met, Agent Mauthe accused Andrades of killing the members of the Royal Court and Morgan and Lucia Montcroix, but she didn't have the proof she needed to arrest him. She was so worked up; she lashed out at him and reprimanded for it by the Department of Utility’s Director Falco. Since then she removed from the case entirely, taken out of the field and given a desk job at the M.A.N.A Headquarters to keep her badge.

  “Well sir, we recently learned Marques Montcroix, son of Lucia and Morgan Montcroix returned recently and is partaking in the Avatar War,” Agent Castle explained.

  “That's right; it was a shocking turn of events for everyone at the ceremony. London Kane's son returned as well. Apparently, the two know each other.”

  “That is correct, sir, but we spoke to the Flamekeeper and he informed us of an incident between yourself, Edgar Killshaw and the Marques in the aftermath of the Flame Ceremony. Not to mention an official complaint from Magnus Rathbone accusing you of hiring Marques Montcroix to steal his Avatar contract. From what the report stated and from Commissioner Quinch’s written witness statement regarding the event, both of the boys accused you of holding his sister Isabella captive in your chambers, but upon search of your chambers, no one was inside.”

  “Yes, that is right. Like I explained to Commissioner Quinch after the misunderstanding happened, I believe they were looking for a way to get disqualified after they realized how dangerous the Avatar War was. It’s happened before and it won’t happen again.”

  “Misunderstanding? You call kidnapping—”

  “Allegedly,” Andrades interrupted, glaring at Agent Mauthe.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Allegedly, Consultant Mauthe,” Andrades responded with a grin. “I’m again a victim of baseless accusations, I see.”

  “Victim? The only victims I know of are the ones you murdered.”

  “Nyre!” Agent Castle roared.

  “Excuse me? Do I need to contact Director Falco again, Misses Mauthe, or are you done disrespecting me in another one of my homes yet again?”

  “I’m sorry. Diedrich, but we’re wasting our time with him,” said Agent Mauthe. “You can see the holes in both sides of his mouth.”

  “I’ve had enough of this. Edgar!” Andrades roared. The door to the room swung open and Edgar stepped through. “Please escort Agent Castle and Consultant Mauthe off of the premises at once!”

  “Right away sir,” Edgar responded. “This way, sir, and madam.”

  “I—”

  “Enough Nyre,” said Agent Castle interrupting her once more. “My apologies for this Lord Archibald, but we won’t be able to leave just yet,” he said before pulling out a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “We have a warrant to search both your estate Inworld and this estate in Star City. Flamekeeper Belgarath has already given his approval.”

  Andrades sighed and grabbed the piece of paper from Agent Castle. He opened it and read the warrant, skipping the official diatribe, paying attention to the scope of the warrant.

  Andrades’ lips curled into a snarl before throwing the paper to his desk.

  “Fine,” Andrades scoffed. “But you are to not talk to or address my staff during your search.”

  “That’s fine,” Agent Castle agreed. “We already have Agents ready to search your estate Inworld. Once we’re done, that will be the end of this.”

  “And what exactly are you looking for?” Andrades questioned.

  “The girl,” Agent Mauthe responded quickly. “We can’t question Marques or Lord Kane’s son until after the War, but you can be, that will be our first priority.”

  Andrades said nothing. His features showed concern and anger, but on the inside, he felt calm and content. They could search all day for as long as they wished, but they would never find Isabella nor would they have the chance to question Marques at the end of the War. Even if they did, there would be nothing they could do. No one to arrest and no one to execute. By the time they would get around to it, he would be in Mage Society, far away from their reach.

  “Fine,” Andrades responded. “But I will be with you to make sure no one sullies the integrity of your investigation, Agent Castle.”

  “If you insist, sir.”

  Andrades led them to every room of his Star City estate. It was as massive as his other estate Inworld. The Agents took their time in every room, moving books, lifting pillows, analyzing writing on paper, anything they could get their hands on, Agent Mauthe especially. They searched for evidence of Isabelle Montcroix.

  They started on the top floor of the estate and worked their way down to the basement. Andrades watched their every move, without saying a word and keeping an eye on Agent Mauthe in particular. After several hours of searching, they returned finding nothing.

  Agent Castle communicated via spellscreen with the Agents at Andrades’ estate Inworld and they returned with nothing. Andrades noted the disappointed looks they expressed, but he could tell Agent Mauthe wasn’t convinced and he knew she never would be. In truth, he respected her. She was good at her job and knew he was guilty. Had she chosen a different path in her life, she would have been formidable. Of all the people Andrades has been at odds with, Agent Mauthe was his greatest opponent. And as much as he respected her, he hated her for it.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Lord Archibald. I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” said Agent Castle.

  “You’re doing your job.”

  “I see no other reason to take up any more of your time, sir. Once we interview Marques after the War, I’m confident the investigation will end,” said Agent Castle.

  “As am I,” Agent Mauthe commented.

  Andrades scoffed and ignored her verbal barb before turning to Agent Castle. “I hope so. I would like to extend an offer for you to attend my wife’s annual banquet—a celebration of the War. It’s tomorrow evening, so I hope this is enough notice. The Avatar Commission and Flamekeeper Belgarath will also be attending. You’re invited too Consultant Mauthe. But I would hope personal feelings are kept aside during the banquet. This will be a meeting among friends and colleagues and we wouldn’t want anything of unruly to occur.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Agent Mauthe responded forcing a smile.

  She turned on her heel and walked out of the front door of the estate.

  “Thank you for your hospitality. Until then, Lord Archibald,” said Agent Castle with a slight bow.

  Andrades returned a bow of his own. “Until then, Agent Castle.”

  15

  Doubt

  A sharp pain in Rook’s shoulder opened his eyes. His hazy gaze fell on Colt standing over him poking his shoulder with a finger. Nigh
tblood sat underneath a window, with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his lap.

  “He’s up,” said Colt before turning to lean against the wall. His nose was high as he crossed his arms. “At least for now.”

  Rook analyzed the room as his blurred vision settled. He turned away from the sunlight that radiated through a window and shielded his eyes with his arm. Nightblood reached over his head and shut the tattered blue curtain hanging above the window.

  “Where’s Bishop?” Rook asked.

  “He needed time to be alone,” said Nightblood.

  “I’m fine, too, thanks for asking. You’re lucky to be alive,” Colt commented.

  “So are you,” Nightblood responded.

  “What… happened?”

  “You almost died; that’s what happened,” Colt snapped. “Were you not listening at all?”

  Rook’s eyes wandered around the room for several seconds.

  “I remember the girl, Giselle, standing in front of me and then a sharp pain in my back.”

  “Let me fill in the blanks for you, kid,” Colt snapped as he stepped off the wall in a huff. “After you let your guard down while I stopped that gal from killing you, her Avatar took advantage and struck you from behind, leaving me to defend you, but even I know my limits and that gal and her Avatar together would have killed me, so I had no choice but to take the coward’s way out and Yield to them.”

  “So… I lost.”

  “This isn’t just about you, kid,” Colt snapped. “We lost. You lost your spine and me my pride.” He turned away from Rook and returned to his position on the wall. “I tried to communicate with you on the battlefield. Were you not listening?”

  Emotions of self-doubt and grief overtook Rook as he buried his face in his hands. He remembered hearing a voice call out to him several times, but he pushed it away, focusing his efforts on defeating Giselle.

  “Now isn’t the time to feel sorry for yourself,” Nightblood explained. “The War has begun and there’s no turning back. Giselle and Victoria are waiting, less than a mile away to challenge you again. It’s been over a day, your Yield limit ended hours ago. I think she's waiting for us to move to challenge you again. You will have to face her—”

  “And she will kill him instantly,” Colt interrupted. “He’s too selfish and too weak to stand up to her. He’d be better off taking the easy way out and quitting. At least then I won’t have to suffer for his selfishness.” Colt turned and punched the wall, his hand went straight through. “Never in any War did I have to save my own damn Link from being killed during the first battle. I’m ashamed to have chosen you.”

  “Colt!” Nightblood snapped. “The boy has suffered enough. I understand why you feel this way, but you’re not helping the situation.”

  “I’m really that useless?” Rook questioned aloud. “I held my own for as long as I could!”

  Colt turned away from him as Nightblood turned back to Rook.

  “Had it not been for Colt Yielding when he did, your deaths were certain. Luckily, I’m proficient in abjuration magic and Bishop told me to heal you as best as I could. You'll still feel some pain, but transmutation magic is deadly and takes a while to heal completely. Luckily, I made it to you when I did,” Nightblood explained.

  “Thank you, Chief.”

  “There is something I am curious about if you would not mind explaining it to me, Rook?”

  “Sure.”

  “From your perspective, how do you think you did during the battle? Based on what you can remember.”

  Rook settled his eyes on the wooden door of the small square room and recalled everything his mind could conjure about the battle with Giselle and Victoria. Slowly, his memories were returning, and he recalled parts of the battle, though parts of it remained a blur. He couldn’t tell if he imagined it or if it occurred.

  “From what I can remember, she knocked me off the rooftop, and then Colt caught me. I tried to attack as she came down, but she evaded. Colt stopped her by firing his spellgun’s. When she hit the ground, I landed an attack, but that was part of her plan. She wanted to get me close and she injured my shoulder. Before I knew it, she was about to attack when Colt… saved me.”

  Rook realized at that moment why Nightblood asked that question specifically. It wasn’t so Rook could retrace his steps, blow-for-blow, but reveal to him the key event that occurred throughout the battle: Colt saved Rook at every high point of their battle and he now understood why Colt was frustrated.

  “I see you come to understand now. Can I ask you why didn’t you communicate with Colt during the battle? Did you not hear him?”

  “How could we talk? He was fighting Victoria, and I was fighting Giselle.”

  “You didn’t hear me calling your name?”

  “Call my name? We talked—”

  Rook suddenly remembered the voice he heard. It was Colt was trying to communicate with him during battle. What he thought was just a voice in his head, an effect of a spell cast by Giselle, was actually Colt trying to coordinate their tactics, but he thought he was imaging it and ignored it.

  “That was you, Colt?”

  “Who else would it be, kid?”

  “I thought it was a distraction, a spell that Giselle placed on me. No one told me I could talk to you in my head!”

  “It’s not everyone’s responsibility to tell you everything you need to know!”

  Rook gripped the sheets of the bed into his hands. He cursed himself for not knowing, but it never crossed his mind.

  "When a mage Links with an Avatar, they share more than their lives. They share their emotions, their pain, and their thoughts."

  “It must be Colt’s anger I’m feeling right now then,” said Rook.

  “It’s true, he’s angry, but he’ll get over it. Trust me, I know. The anger you feel isn’t from Colt, it’s yours,” Nightblood explained. “You’ve told me how you viewed your battle, now let me tell you how we did; Instead of coordinating your efforts with your Avatar, you used him as a safety net. You didn’t analyze your situation accurately and instead focused your attack only on the Link while Colt picked up your slack and was forced to battle them both. It was easy for the girl and her Avatar to overtake you. That was your biggest flaw and almost cost you your life. They coordinated their attacks while you focused on what was in front of you and only you. I do not blame Colt for feeling the way he does. And neither should you.”

  Rook absorbed Nightblood’s words for several minutes before he spoke. “I—I understand now.”

  “Do you, Rook?” Nightblood asked. “I don’t think you do. Us Avatars fight alongside our Links, not alone. As a Link your job is to work with your Avatar and it is our job to work with you. That is the ebb and flow of the shared connection between Link and Avatar.”

  “I’m sorry I let you down, Colt. I truly am.”

  “From what I hear, you’ve been sorry a lot lately,” Colt dismissed. “And I can’t do a damn thing with sorry, kid.”

  “What do you want from me?” Rook exclaimed. “I lost the battle, I get it!”

  “I want you to grow a damn pair!” Colt roared. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and pick your ass up! Learn from your mistakes, and stop letting them defeat you!”

  Colt’s words struck a chord with Rook, every word stung more than the next. He watched as Colt stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The gust of wind moved the curtain on its impact.

  Rook turned and sat on the side of the bed for a few moments, thinking about everything. His shoulder and his back hurt and he winced with each move he made. The words hurt him more, even worse when he realized it was the truth. He was selfish and thought of only himself. He had relied heavily on Colt being there to save him when he needed without once thinking of what Colt was dealing with.

  Because they were Avatars, they would return to their orb even if they died on the battlefield. Rook didn’t have such a luxury, so he on
ly thought of his own survival. Bishop not being there made it all the worse. He knew he’d disappointed him once again and couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind at the moment.

  “What will you do now, Rook?” Nightblood asked. “Will you give up your life because you are unwilling to change or will you fight back?”

  “I want to fight back, but I don’t know if I can.”

  “There’s only doing or not doing. If you want to fight back, there’s nothing stopping you, except, you.”

  Rook stood from the bed and walked toward the door before stopping and turning to Nightblood, who still sat on the floor with his eyes closed.

  “Thank you, Nightblood.”

  Nightblood didn’t respond as Rook turned and left the room. He entered an unfamiliar hallway with wooden floors and gray walls. In the distance, he could hear Colt cursing and throwing things inside a room as he approached. He reached the door and opened it as the sound of a vase crashing into the wall echoed into the hallway.

  “Colt…”

  “What?” He snapped.

  Rook entered the room, closing the door behind him as his Avatar turned away from him, hiding his anger.

  “Just go away kid, you ain’t cut out for this,” said Colt dismissing him.

  “Did you know three weeks ago I was a part-time cook in my uncle’s café? It’s not like I cooked much, he doesn’t get much business, so I’d probably say I’ve cooked a meal a week on average.”

  “No, I didn’t. So what? You cooked, good for you! Why are you telling me this right now?”

  “Just listen,” Rook pleaded. “Before I met Bishop, I never stepped foot outside of my neighborhood. My Uncle Niles was overprotective—still is, but he means well—I understand why now, but at the time I didn’t. I only wanted one thing after my parents died and that was to see my little sister again. I was naïve, I looked in phone books, on the Internet, and I even posted signs with pictures I drew around the neighborhood, believing I could find her. Then I met Bishop and my life changed ever since. He showed me another world, the real world and everything that comes with it. And he promised me; he would help me find my sister one day, and he did just that.”