The Sartious Mage (The Rhythm of Rivalry)

by B. T. Narro

  As much as the Prince wanted to know the truth, he wasn’t ready. To find out it could be weeks, even months before he saw his father again would devastate him. The deceit would throw him into a fit of rage—suddenly I realized how similar our situations were. I didn’t feel ready for the truth either, in fear it would devastate me. If I was lied to and used like Harwin…I shook my head. I couldn’t even think about it without rage already balling my hands into fists.

  “Then how am I going to save lives?” His question brought me back. I took a slow breath to let out the anger that had begun to build from my thoughts.

  “Because being the Prince of Zav gives you more power than you could ever wield with a sword.”

  “What kind of power?” His eyes widened like I was about to reveal a glorious secret.

  The power to stop a war, I almost said.

  I wanted to tell him. It felt so right. I was starting to believe he might understand if I explained it correctly. But the sound of two guards coming down the stairs stopped me.

  “Come with us, please.” One guard lowered his head at Harwin.

  The boy hopped off his seat. I stood as well.

  “Not you,” the guard said, lifting his palm to my chest, even giving me a slight push back into the chair. “King Danvell isn’t ready to see you yet.”

  As I hadn’t been quite on my feet when he’d pushed me, I fell back into the chair hard, nearly toppling it over. It didn’t hurt, but the unnecessary force made me angry. I wanted to take out my wand and send him off his feet with a strong gust of hot Bastial wind. The image of his startled face under his steel helmet tumbling backward was tempting to see. That may have been smarter than what I decided to say instead.

  “If the King thinks I’ll let him see Harwin without me there, he’s mistaken.” Sitting beneath the men I was threatening made my words feel petty, so I leaned forward to get off my seat. But before I could even lift my rear, two swords were poking into my chest and pushing me into the velvet backrest.

  “You are mistaken,” the second guard said, “if you think you have any power over when you see the King or who you bring into his throne room.” He jabbed his sword another centimeter into me. I noticed a crackling sound and realized it was the rolled-up contract for the cure I’d put in my inner shirt pocket.

  Either these men hadn’t heard of me or they had and didn’t believe the rumors. I wanted to tell them they were talking to the person whose magic was strong enough to get five men into the stables of an enemy castle where we knowingly found the Prince of Zav for his weekly riding lesson, convinced him to come with us while his riding coach was distracted with horses scared by Bastial heat, and got him out of Zav with master-level Sartious spells to stop those pursuing us.

  They were talking to the youngest Sartious mage—the one who thousands of people had come to see when he worked at the greatest blacksmith’s forge in The Nest, back when he still thought a reputation was a good thing to have.

  And they were on the verge of destroying the most important possession he had—the contract for the cure to his darkness.

  I could feel myself phasing out of my body the more I considered using magic on them. I readied myself to watch the event unfold.

  But then I noticed Harwin’s gaping mouth at the sight of the swords pushing into my chest. The boy was too ready to be traumatized. I held myself back.

  When the guards left with him, I was thankful I hadn’t done anything. I had a bad habit of acting first and planning second. Even now that I had time to think about it, I still didn’t know what I would’ve done after knocking the guards over with Bastial wind. I had no idea where the King was, if the cure was with him, and how many men stood in my way.

  I must’ve waited nearly an hour before I eventually fell asleep. Luckily, I didn’t dream. Sometimes I could sleep half the night before the darkness took shape in a nightmare.

  I woke to someone shaking my shoulder. “Jek Trayden?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll take you to see the King. Come, and please hurry.”

  I recognized his smooth voice and black hair. Why was he here instead of a guard? “You’re Micah Vail, right?” I eyed him curiously as I started following him up the stairs.

  “You’re wondering why the King’s top adviser is taking you instead of a guard.” He stated it like a fact. Surprise hit my face before I had a chance to decide if I wanted to reveal it or not.

  Before I thought of something to say, he guessed something else. “You’re also curious why I spoke to you about the King’s promises before you left to get Prince Harwin.”

  I stopped at the top of the stairs. “So what number am I thinking of?” I asked jokingly.

  Micah Vail waved me forward. “You should be thinking of two, you and me. I’m your friend, Jek. And friends like me are important to keep.”

  There was an unsettling silence as he waited for two guards to pass us. We were walking down a long hallway with floors of the same white marble as the lobby. I wondered why the Takary family would need such an enormous palace. We passed many closed doors, and I thought I heard voices among other indiscernible sounds from behind them. I kept expecting Micah to say more, but I was beginning to realize he was comfortable leaving his statement cryptic.

  I wasn’t, though. “And why do you wish to be my friend?” I asked.

  “I don’t wish to be your friend,” he corrected me with a smile. “I am your friend.” He turned his gaze back to the hall just as we came to another flight of stairs. “Whether you like it or not.”

  “You have a strange concept of friendship.” I kept my tone cheerful. Although I was confused, I had to agree that he seemed like an important friend to keep.

  When we reached the throne room, I realized my new friend had somehow escorted me the whole way without ever explaining anything at all. He took his place to the right of the King, standing with his wrists crossed.

  My stomach twisted when I met eyes with King Danvell Takary. He held no smile. Even with his indifferent expression, though, I still felt that his face was fatherly, with his combed gray hair puffing out from his crown and his small, concerned eyes.

  Like the other Takarys, his skin was the golden brown of bronze. It even looked as if a touch of oil might’ve been wiped across his arms, for they glistened while sitting on the armrests of his throne.

  It was this fatherly face that I’d always thought of when I wanted to trust him, when I wanted to believe he wouldn’t deceive me. But I was void of trust now as I stood silently and waited for him to speak. My doubts had crushed all optimism.

  Chapter 3: King’s Promise

  Danvell Takary first gave an obvious look to the side wall, where ten guards stood like statues.

  “You did well, Jek. Harwin still doesn’t even know the real reason he’s here.” The King’s voice had an accent of nobility, with a fluffiness to each word as if he was about to laugh at me for not speaking the same way.

  “You won’t harm him, right?”

  “No. I keep my promises.”

  I couldn’t help but give a look to Micah Vail while the King paused for a sip from his gold chalice. Micah’s head was lowered slightly, as if alluding to something. The way his eyes moved between the King and me gave me a sense he was trying to show me he knew what the King was about to say. But I still had no clue what it was.

  “Why are you here?” Danvell asked me.

  I felt my head snap back from the silly question. “You know I’m here for the cure to my darkness.”

  He took another sip. “I think you’re here for more than that.” He spoke slowly, with a cadence like he had more to say.

  “No, just that,” I blurted, trying to speed this up.

  He let out a disapproving grunt, obviously unhappy to have his dramatic speech interrupted.

  I didn’t care. Why didn’t he just give me the cure? I took out the contract and held it awkwardly, unsure if I should approach him. “The contract,” I said softl
y.

  A guard came from the wall, took it from my hand, and walked it to King Danvell.

  “What are these holes?” the King asked in disgust.

  “It’s actually one hole.” I pointed awkwardly. “But it was rolled up when that hole was made.”

  It felt like I was on trial. I didn’t understand why. I was just there to pick up my reward and hopefully see Harwin one more time before I left to make sure he was safe.

  “Why are you so eager to lose your magic ability?” the King asked. This time he continued quickly, not giving me the chance to speak. “I think you don’t realize your full potential. Have you thought about how much good you can do before you’re cured of this darkness you speak of?” His hand fluttered about as if he was talking about a small grievance.

  It made me realize he still had no idea how terrible my darkness was. More importantly, it meant he probably thought he could offer me something else.

  “You may have just single-handedly stopped a war,” he continued. “Don’t you wish to continue to help your king?”

  I folded my arms, grazing a finger over the wand on my belt. “Yes, but don’t I deserve what I was promised?”

  “It seems a little selfish, don’t you think?”

  “Selfish?” I didn’t like where this conversation was going. “I know what you’re trying to do, but there’s nothing I want more than the cure.”

  “Nothing?” Danvell replied with a raised eyebrow. “You can’t be sure about that until you hear what I have to offer.”

  Damn my curiosity. I knew he could see it in my face. He gave a wry smile. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than my cure, but that didn’t mean I had thought of everything obtainable in the world.

  “What are you offering me instead?” I finally asked.

  “You grew up on a farm somewhere near The Nest, correct?”

  I nodded hesitantly.

  “What does every farmer want more than anything?”

  “Control over the weather?” I shrugged.

  The corner of his mouth folded. “Besides that.”

  Micah leaned over the King to hold a watch in front of him.

  “Yes, I see,” the King said quietly. He made an impatient rolling gesture toward me with his open hand. “What do farmers want? Get it out.”

  “Not having to pay taxes,” I guessed again. Sannil often complained about never knowing how much he would be charged when the taxman showed up. But if the King was going to offer money, I was prepared to laugh.

  Danvell gave a discouraging sigh and took another sip from his chalice. “The issue here is that you don’t know what’s best for you,” he said coldly. “You think all you need is the cure to one issue.” He raised a finger. “But once that issue is solved, you’ll have many others that are even worse.”

  Hot anger surged through me. How could he speak like that about my darkness—like he understood it in the least? But I knew this conversation would be over the moment I erupted, so I said nothing.

  “I can see you think I’m wrong.” He showed an annoyed glance to Micah standing beside his throne. “The boy doesn’t trust his king.”

  Micah looked down toward the ruler with a curious smile and said, “Trust is an intriguing thing.”

  “What do you mean by that?” The King’s question was hurried, but his face held curiosity.

  “For some, trust is fragile, difficult to create, and easily broken. For others, trust is firmly grounded, easy to set, and nearly impossible to move.”

  Micah stood upright, his wrists never unfolding. His eyes shifted toward me. “But I think Jek’s trust is like mine, my king.”

  “And how is that?” Danvell had wide eyes.

  “A block of stone,” Micah said. “You hammer away at it with a chisel until it’s finally shaped into a beautiful statue, everlasting.” He produced a warm smile for the King and then looked back toward me with a nod so subtle I couldn’t even be sure I’d seen it. His words and expressions were seamless. I wondered if they’d been rehearsed, even.

  “Very good,” the King said, now with a grin of his own. He leaned back and looked at me through the bottoms of his eyes. “You’ll learn to trust me. After you calm yourself and realize that what I have to offer is far better, then you’ll see I have your best interests at heart. Then, when I have more time, we can discuss methods of curing this darkness without you losing your magic ability.”

  It had taken so long to get to his offer, my curiosity already had faded. “And what is it that you have to offer?” I figured the best way out of this charade was to hear his poisonous alternative and then politely choose the cure.

  “This is what you want.” He raised a finger with each item he listed. “Money, land, power, and the opportunity to help the good people of your realm.” He pushed out his hand. “Four things, all of which I can give you with one simple ‘yes’ from you.”

  I was too skeptical to be intrigued and too tired to pretend otherwise. I let my mouth and eyes rest flat.

  “Before I go any further, I’m going to make one demand,” the King said in a scolding tone. “You can say only one more word. This has already gone on too long, and your attitude has been far from respectful.”

  It looked like my building anger was shared by Danvell. His fist was balled, the other squeezed tightly around his chalice.

  “Now, I think it’s fate that you happened to come back on the same day as my daughter Lisanda’s wedding. What more perfect way to conclude this than with a double wedding? It took half a year to set up Lisanda’s nuptials and more money than I wish to mention. It would simply be a small ceremony for you and my other daughter, Jessend, and all would be done. I already know my daughters would love to be married under the same ceremony. They’d planned for it in the past—before Jessend’s unfortunate luck with the other men she was to marry. We can discuss my other plans for you when it’s done.”

  I was too annoyed to hide my disinterest, giving a loud sigh. I didn’t share the same dream that most others did; I had no interest in marrying a princess. How would that help me with my darkness? Not to mention, it was Jessend he was offering, and all I knew about her was what he’d just said: She’s had unfortunate luck with the other men she was to marry—not “man” but “men.” I didn’t like the sound of that.

  His other plans for me felt more like a burden than an opportunity, as well, like when traveling merchants have “the perfect thing” for you after you’ve already told them you aren’t interested in the first item they offered. If it’s the perfect thing for me, why not lead with it?

  Danvell’s face twisted at the sound of my sigh. “They’re both sixteen and very beautiful.” His voice was getting more argumentative, now at the point of lecturing. “Here’s the best part for you.” He leaned toward me. “Once you’re married, in addition to the money and the land you’ll gain, my team of chemists will find a way to cure your darkness while making sure your magic ability does not wane. They just need more time, Jek. Your darkness will still be cured as I promised.”

  He leaned back and folded his arms. “Even the richest men would say yes to that opportunity. I don’t see how you couldn’t.”

  I felt myself shaking my head. I didn’t trust any of it. I didn’t trust that my darkness could ever be cured without losing my magic ability. I didn’t trust his chemists. I didn’t trust him. And I certainly didn’t feel right about him offering his daughter to me like some sort of prize.

  Rage pumped hard, pressing my teeth tightly against each other. I knew I should just politely decline, but I wanted to curse at him instead. I wanted to scream that his daughters shouldn’t be used to buy his way out of a promise. I compromised and said something in between.

  “No, just give me the cure you promised!” A mistake—I realized so when he jumped to his feet. I had shouted it and pointed—another mistake.

  Horror took me as the King ripped the contract in half. It felt like I was watching Harwin’s throat being slit.
Danvell slapped his chalice from his armrest.

  “I said one more word! Now you get nothing!” His finger shot toward me just as mine had been aimed at him. “Guards, get him out of here!” he bellowed, his face now stained scarlet.

  “Where is it?” I screamed with more desperation than I wished to reveal. At some point I’d drawn my wand, now aiming it at the King. “I’m not leaving without my cure!”

  My teeth were clenched harder than my fingers around my wand. Rage had assumed control. The guards crept toward me hesitantly.

  “Put down the wand,” a guard’s voice behind me said.

  Turning toward him, I was reminded of the two guards blocking the door I’d forgotten about. It also made me realize that these guards didn’t know a mage at my level no longer needed a wand. Yes, it helped with many spells, but I was willing to trade that for the element of surprise.

  I knew I just had to conceal my rage for a few seconds for my plan to work. “I’m putting my wand down and leaving.” I let it drop…or I tried to. My hand wouldn’t let go. I could feel my plan changing then and there. That’s the thing about rage—it’s volatile and consuming, making me unpredictable even to myself. No, I’m keeping it, I decided.

  “Let it go,” another told me. They were closing in with swords pointed at my chest.

  I focused to draw in hot Bastial Energy from the room. The guards were ripe with it and had little to no control over what I did with it. My chest and stomach itched to use the newfound energy as it tingled inside me.

  In the span of a breath, I let it explode from my hands in all directions. It was enough to knock them off their feet, and that’s when I kicked open the door and rushed out, leaving a smoky green trail of Sartious Energy behind me to cloud their vision.

  “Stop him!” Danvell shouted as I ran.

  I wondered which way to go while I sprinted down the hall. Doors were in every direction, and I knew what was behind none of them. I wanted the cure and Harwin before I left. If the King didn’t follow through with his promise for the cure, he probably wouldn’t with his promise to keep Harwin safe, either. He had to be saved.