The Magic Collector

by Clayton Wood

  “It’s alright,” Gideon reassured, peering at the tents through a spyglass he’d drawn out of his forearm-painting. He put the spyglass away. “They’re the Pentad’s men. Looks like they’re setting up for an assault.”

  “To take back Blackthorne?” Bella guessed. Gideon nodded.

  “It appears that way.”

  Bella recalled their earlier conversation. If Gideon had let those soldiers in Devil’s Pass live, they’d’ve ended up killing some of these men. She couldn’t deny Gideon’s logic.

  But it still didn’t feel right. There had to be another way.

  “We’ll have to go around them,” he stated. “Come on.”

  “Why around?” Bella asked. Gideon grimaced.

  “The Pentad and I had a…falling out years ago,” he admitted. “Nothing that can’t be fixed, but it’ll be simpler if we just avoid them.” He paused. “If they see us, let me do the talking. And act bored, like you can’t be bothered.”

  “I’m a teenage girl,” she quipped. “It’s what we do.”

  Gideon led the way forward and leftward, staying a good mile away from the perimeter of the camp, and well within the safety of the trees. They were past the halfway point of the huge camp when Myko froze, his head whipping to the right.

  A low growl rumbled in his chest.

  “Damn,” Gideon swore, pulling out his cane from his chest-painting. A small dog was bounding toward them…followed by a good dozen soldiers in silver armor so shiny that they were like mirrors.

  “Painters!” one of them shouted as they rushed up to Gideon and Bella. “Two of ‘em!”

  More soldiers came, some with bows, others with crossbows. All aimed at them. Within moments, Bella, Gideon, and Myko were surrounded.

  “Good morning gentlemen,” Gideon greeted, smiling at the men as if they weren’t shoving swords and spears in his face. “Who may I ask is leading this contingent?”

  “Who’s asking?” a soldier shot back.

  “Gideon Myles.”

  The soldier gave Gideon a withering glare.

  “Bullshit,” he retorted. “You don’t look anything like him. Hand over your paintings. Try taking anything outta them and you’ll regret it.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Gideon began…and then something flew over the soldiers’ heads, careening right at Gideon at terrible speed. It was a sword over six feet long, with an inky-black blade and a golden hilt and crossguard.

  Its wicked tip stopped mere feet from Gideon’s face, hovering in the air before him.

  The crowd of soldiers parted suddenly, allowing a man to step through. He was tall, his skin as black as night, and was utterly bald. In fact, he had no hair whatsoever. No eyebrows, no eyelashes. He wore a Painter’s uniform much like Gideon’s, with a gold and red cape. The soldiers gave the man a wide berth.

  “We will decide what is necessary,” he declared in a deep, powerful voice.

  The man stopped before Bella and Gideon, studying them – and Myko – for a long moment. There was a sudden chill in the air, goosebumps rising on Bella’s arms.

  “Good morning Yero,” Gideon greeted, holding out his left hand. “It’s been a long time.”

  Yero stared expressionlessly at Gideon, then at his hand.

  “Who,” the man replied coolly, “…are you?”

  “It’s me old friend,” Gideon answered. “Gideon Myles.”

  Yero’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Myko, then back at Gideon.

  “Is it now.”

  “I had my face re-painted,” Gideon explained. “A disguise to get me into Blackthorne. I went undercover to save Thaddeus. He was lost in a…”

  “Prove it,” Yero demanded.

  “Pardon?”

  “Prove that you are Gideon Myles,” Yero clarified. Gideon paused, then gestured at Myko.

  “Do you think Myko would follow anyone else?” he inquired. Yero glanced at the great silver wolf. Myko snorted, then glowed bright silver, moon-dashing straight up into the air. He materialized a good fifty feet up, then moon-dashed to the ground, landing with a thump before the soldiers. Who all backed away rather quickly…and regarded Gideon with newfound respect…and if Bella wasn’t mistaken, fear.

  Yero’s jawline rippled.

  “You’re a fool for coming here,” he stated. “Old friend.”

  “Yero…” Gideon began.

  “Or do you forget what you did?” Yero interrupted. “That you have a price on your head?”

  “Mere allegations,” Gideon countered. “You know me better than that, Yero.”

  “So I thought.”

  “You question my loyalty to the Pentad?” Gideon inquired, his tone suddenly sharp. Myko growled, his silver eyes fixed on the man. Yero glanced at Myko, then back at Gideon.

  “Eighteen years,” he muttered.

  “Pardon?”

  “Gideon Myles has been gone for eighteen years,” Yero explained. “Left without a trace. Left us to fight against the armies of Epirus alone. Left us to fight the Collector ourselves.”

  “I…”

  “Left his reputation,” Yero interjected, “…in tatters.”

  Gideon squared his shoulders, glaring at the taller man.

  “With all due respect,” he snapped, “…if the Collector had gotten his hands on Thaddeus Birch, we wouldn’t be having this argument right now. We’d be dead.”

  Yero frowned.

  “Thaddeus is safe?” he asked. Gideon grimaced, glancing at Bella.

  “The Collector no longer has access to him,” he replied. Yero’s jawline rippled, and he lowered his gaze, shaking his head slowly.

  “This is a tragedy,” he muttered. “No matter the Pentad’s grievances with Thaddeus. He was a national treasure.”

  “Indeed,” Gideon agreed. Yero turned to Bella then.

  “And who is this?” he inquired. Gideon hesitated, but only for a moment.

  “Bella Birch,” he answered. Yero’s eyes widened.

  “She is…?”

  “The daughter of Lucia Birch,” Gideon confirmed.

  Yero stared at Bella, making her feel uncomfortable. Myko pressed against her side, and she put a hand on the wolf’s neck, refusing to make eye contact.

  “Hey,” she mumbled, as if it hurt.

  “And Lucia?” Yero pressed.

  “Murdered,” Gideon answered. “By the Collector’s hand.”

  Yero’s eyes narrowed.

  “Really.”

  “It’s the truth,” Gideon insisted. “She died protecting her daughter.”

  “In Blackthorne?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how did Lucia Birch get to Blackthorne?” Yero pressed. Gideon shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “All I heard was that the Collector had taken Blackthorne, and I knew that Thaddeus was there. So I went to find him, and he told me the rest.”

  Yero crossed his arms over his chest.

  “We will see,” he stated. He paused for a moment then. “I thought you had abandoned us,” he admitted. “Gone to live in Havenwood with all the other deserters,” he added darkly. Gideon put his cane back into his chest-painting, then put his hand on Yero’s shoulder. Surprisingly, the man accepted this.

  “Never, old friend,” he replied. Then he glanced at the black sword, still pointed at his face. “You may want to calm your Temper,” he added. Yero smirked at that.

  “To my side, Temper,” he ordered. The sword drew back from Gideon, levitating at Yero’s side with its blade pointed down. It was as tall as the Painter. “Clever, to switch back to your original face,” Yero observed. “No one remembered it.”

  “I’ve grown rather fond of it actually.”

  “You weren’t always,” Yero reminded him. Gideon smirked.

  “Can you blame me?”

  “It has been too long, old friend,” Yero admitted. “I miss our adventures.”

  “I don’t know if I do,” Gideon confessed. “I’m getting too old for bount
y hunting.”

  “Walk into my canvas and I will restore your youth,” Yero offered. He glanced down at Gideon’s stump. “And your good hand.”

  “Maybe later,” Gideon countered. “The Collector’s men are still hunting for me. And so is Kendra, by the way. Myko slowed her down so we could escape.”

  Yero’s expression darkened.

  “Ah, she betrayed us too,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You should have killed her, Myko.”

  The great black sword – Temper – seemed to quiver, the air around it becoming notably chillier. Yero gave it a grim smile, resting a hand on its hilt.

  “You will get your chance, Temper,” Yero promised. “We will reclaim Blackthorne soon.”

  “I’m surprised the Pentad hasn’t already,” Gideon admitted. Yero turned to him.

  “The war with Epirus occupied us,” he explained. “Now that Epirus has fallen, the Collector will be next.”

  “Well, I can provide valuable information about Blackthorne’s defenses,” Gideon offered. Yero nodded, putting an arm around Gideon’s shoulders and gesturing further into the camp.

  “Come then,” he prompted. “General Craven will be happy to see you.”

  Chapter 16

  General Craven was not happy to see Gideon.

  Craven was the tallest man Bella had ever seen, easy over eight feet in height. He was built like a Greek statue of a long-dead warrior, with broad shoulders and heavily muscled limbs. He looked to be in his late forties, his short black hair graying at the temples. His skin was leathery from years of exposure to the elements, his huge hands heavily calloused. He wore a suit of gold and red armor, the official colors of the Pentad. His tent – the largest of all in the military base – was filled with the necessary furniture for his duties: a desk, a long table with many chairs upon which a large map had been placed, and stacks of paper. He didn’t so much as offer a greeting when Yero brought her, Gideon, and Myko into his tent. He stood over the long table, glancing up from the large map there with slate gray eyes.

  “General,” Yero greeted. “I bring you Gideon Myles and Bella Birch, daughter of Lucia Birch.”

  “General Craven,” Gideon stated, inclining his head slightly. He nudged Bella, who did her best to curtsy. General Craven walked around the long table, each footstep causing the ground to tremble a little. He stopped a few feet in front of Gideon, looming over the Painter.

  “Gideon Myles,” he murmured in a deep, hollow voice, staring down at the Painter with a stony expression. Gideon held out a hand, and Craven shook it. It was as if Gideon’s hand were a baby’s, so large was Craven’s, and Gideon grimaced in pain at the general’s formidable grip.

  “Good to see you,” Gideon stated, pulling his hand away and shaking it out.

  “It shouldn’t be,” Craven replied. “There is a warrant for your arrest. One that is nearly two decades old.”

  Gideon grimaced.

  “About that,” he began, but Craven held out a hand.

  “The judge will hear your testimony,” he interjected. He turned to Yero. “Detain him.”

  Yero glanced at Gideon, whose gaze remained locked on Craven’s.

  “That,” Gideon warned, “…would be most unwise.”

  “You have violated the law,” Craven pointed out. “You will answer to it.”

  “Not today,” Gideon retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “And not anytime soon.”

  “This is not a negotiation,” Craven shot back.

  “Then be prepared to explain to the Pentad why your assault on Blackthorne failed,” Gideon replied icily, reaching into his chest-painting. “Before it ever started.”

  Myko began to glow bright silver, his hackles rising.

  Yero took a step back, the blood draining from his face. Even Temper backed away. General Craven stood his ground, staring down at Gideon.

  “You think you can win this fight?” he asked.

  “I know I can,” Gideon answered instantly.

  Yero took another step back, beads of sweat rising on his forehead. He glanced at Craven, swallowing visibly.

  “General, I don’t think now is the time,” he stated. Craven ignored him.

  “My orders are to reclaim Blackthorne,” the general declared. “I will execute them. When I am done, I will return to the Pentad and tell them what happened today. You will regret threatening us, Gideon. You may not have committed a crime before, but you have now.”

  “Rest assured I’ll deal with it,” Gideon replied. “In my own time.”

  Craven turned to Bella, and she stared up at the massive man, wondering what Gideon had gotten her into…and what he’d gotten himself into.

  “This is Lucia’s daughter?” he inquired.

  “It is,” Gideon confirmed. “She and Thaddeus were lost in a book in Blackthorne, and the Collector’s men were searching for them. I went undercover there for ten years and found them before the Collector did.”

  General Craven glanced at Bella, then back at Gideon.

  “That is good news,” he conceded. “Very good news. You should have notified the Pentad of your plan.”

  “I couldn’t risk word getting out,” Gideon answered. “If the Collector managed to get to Thaddeus…” He let the thought hang in the air.

  “Granted,” Craven replied. “So where is Thaddeus?”

  Gideon glanced at Bella, then shook his head grimly. Craven’s lips drew into a thin line.

  “I see,” he muttered. He turned to Bella. “My condolences,” he added. “Your grandfather was a great man.”

  Bella nodded mutely, swallowing past a sudden lump in her throat. He’d been a great man even when she hadn’t known he was a great man.

  You should have seen me before all…this, he’d said.

  Craven returned his gaze to Gideon.

  “The Collector doesn’t have him,” he stated. “And for that we should all be grateful. May he rest in peace.”

  “Indeed,” Gideon agreed.

  “Is she trained?” Craven asked, nodding at Bella. Gideon shook his head.

  “Of course not,” he answered. “She doesn’t have a license.”

  “That didn’t stop her mother,” Yero grumbled.

  “We will take her back to the Pentad for processing,” Craven decided. “We need all the Painters we can get.”

  “Is it that bad?” Gideon inquired. Craven sighed.

  “It is,” he confirmed. “The last ten years have been…difficult. The Collector took advantage of our war with Epirus, attacking Blackthorne and a few of our border cities while our armies were otherwise occupied.”

  “I assume Epirus was defeated.”

  “Yes,” Craven confirmed. “But only three months ago. The war allowed the Collector to consolidate power. He doesn’t have the manpower we do, but he has been stealing our Painters. Offering ridiculous amounts of land to bring Painters to his side. Promising them the ability to create without licenses or patrons.” He shook his head. “Painters are flocking to him…and the Writers and Sculptors aren’t far behind.”

  “And Actors?” Gideon asked.

  “I’m sure he has a few posing as members of the nobility,” Craven stated grimly. “No one’s been caught yet. The Collector is careful. He’s playing the long game.”

  “I see,” Gideon muttered.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” Craven confessed, putting a hand on Gideon’s shoulder and smiling down at him. “I missed you, old friend. And I for one never believed the rumors about you.”

  “I missed you too.”

  “We could use you on the battlefield,” Craven continued. “We’re planning on taking back Blackthorne tomorrow.”

  “That…might not be a good idea,” Gideon warned. “Kendra turned. She’s with the Collector…and she recognized me. It won’t be long before the Collector finds out…and apparently he’s dead-set on apprehending Bella.”

  “Which means he will come here,” Yero piped in, folding his arms over his che
st.

  “Unlikely,” Craven countered. “Why would the Collector want an untrained girl?”

  “I’m not sure,” Gideon admitted. “But I’m taking Bella to Havenwood, where she’ll be safe.”

  Craven’s expression darkened.

  “She’s perfectly safe here,” he argued. Gideon raised an eyebrow. “We need you, Gideon.”

  “And then what?” Gideon inquired. “You’ll just arrest me afterward.”

  “Helping us will work in your favor in court,” Craven pointed out. “I am willing to forgive your threat earlier. Remember that you are a servant of the Pentad, Gideon. And that I outrank you.”

  Gideon’s jawline rippled, and he gazed up at the man.

  “Make me.”

  General Craven stared down at Gideon, not even seeming to breathe.

  “You’ve never defied me before, old friend,” Craven stated at last, breaking the silence.

  “I have my reasons,” Gideon replied.

  “Then I will not help you when your trial comes.”

  “Fair enough,” Gideon agreed.

  He took off his hat then, rummaging inside, then pulling out a very large rolled-up painting. He turned, handing it to Yero. Yero unrolled it partway, his eyes widening.

  “Draw it out at the very start of the battle,” Gideon advised.

  Yero stared at the painting, swallowing visibly. He nodded.

  “I will,” the Painter replied. He looked up at General Craven. “He gives us Tartarus.”

  Craven’s eyes widened.

  “The Pentad has begged you for Tartarus for decades,” he stated. “Why give it now?”

  Gideon glanced at Bella again.

  “Like I said, I have my reasons,” he answered. “Use it with extreme caution, and only if absolutely necessary,” he warned.

  “I will,” Yero promised. “Thank you, Gideon.”

  “Indeed,” Craven agreed. “This is contribution enough. I will notify the Queen of your generosity personally.”

  Gideon gave a rueful smile at that.

  “I imagine it’ll soften the blow of my absence.”

  “It will,” Craven agreed. “Somewhat. But I would still not wish to be you when you’re forced to stand before the Queen.”

  Gideon grimaced, then cleared his throat.

  “Well then, I’d better be off,” he stated. “I could use two horses.”