The Wizard of Time (Book 1)

by G. L. Breedon

  “Do you think you can do that?”

  “I think so,” Gabriel answered, wondering how difficult it would be to duplicate the magic Ohin had performed. Chimalli handed Gabriel another dagger from the table. Gabriel stilled his mind and focused on the magical energy within himself as he took out his grandfather’s pocket watch.

  He focused the energy, allowing it to build before reaching out to the imprints of the pocket watch. Then he extended his magic-sense and felt for the thread connecting the dagger of chipped and polished volcanic glass to a concatenate crystal somewhere in time. As he felt the thread, he willed the magical energy flowing through him to surround the dagger in a shield of magical power. The magical space-time thread from the dagger winked out of existence, and the glass of the dagger blade cracked in half with a loud pop. Gabriel winced and looked up at Ohin.

  “Next time, a little less magical energy,” Ohin said with a frown.

  “Too much energy and you might damage the object you’re trying to sever,” Chimalli said as he grinned at Gabriel.

  “He’s trying to be the Superman of Time Mages,” Teresa said. “He doesn’t know his own strength.”

  “Why don’t you try another one?” Ohin said. “This time try to sever the connection gently. Like you were snipping a rose bud from the stem. Not as though you were trying to cut it off with an axe.”

  Gabriel took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and tried again. He realized that even though the concatenate crystal that the dagger was connected to might be anywhere in time, severing the connection between them did not require all that much magical energy. It was more like trying to smother a candle flame by placing a snuffer over it, rather than blasting it with a fire extinguisher. When he had finished, he looked to see Ohin smiling again.

  “That’s more like it,” Ohin said. “Now why don’t you replace Rajan on watch? We’ll need him to repair this broken blade so there will be no chance of a bifurcation of time taking place. I will finish the other two daggers. You can enjoy the view.”

  “It’s a lovely view,” Chimalli said, his voice a mix of sadness and irony. “When I lived here, few people saw the view from the top of the temple and lived to tell about it.”

  “Just try not to look at the heads on racks at the bottom,” Teresa said from the corner. “Spoils the view.”

  “Right,” Gabriel said, “I won’t look down.” He stepped out of the sanctuary to the top of the temple pyramid. Sema, Marcus, Ling, and Rajan stood silently at the four corners of the pyramid watching the sky and the city for any possible disturbance. It was unlikely that Malignancy Mages would appear, but there was no need to take chances. The others nodded silently to Gabriel as he stepped over to Rajan.

  “How’s it going inside?” Rajan asked.

  “I broke one of the daggers,” Gabriel admitted, his voice cracking with embarrassment.

  “Bit of a butter fingers, are you?” Rajan said.

  “I didn’t drop it,” Gabriel said, a bit defensively. “I accidentally used too much magical energy when I severed the connection and it shattered.”

  “I guess you don’t know your own strength,” Rajan said.

  “That’s what Teresa said,” Gabriel replied.

  “Well, great minds think alike, and so do ours. Don’t tell her I said that. I’ll go see to the dagger. Just keep an eye out for anything unusual.”

  “Like standing at the top of an Aztec temple in the middle of the fifteenth century isn’t unusual,” Gabriel said.

  “You know what I mean,” Rajan said. “Keep an eye out for magic. And hold these.” Rajan handed Gabriel the small pouch with the artifacts he had collected from Teresa, Ohin, Chimalli, and Gabriel. As Rajan walked into the sanctuary, Gabriel looked in the pouch and saw, among other things, the shard of pottery Ohin had used to travel back to the temple and the small chunk of amber with the dragonfly suspended in it that would take them back to the Windsor Castle in the Cretaceous Period one hundred twenty-five million years ago. He put the pouch in his pocket.

  Gabriel stood where Rajan had looked out over the Aztec city. Lights from oil lamps, small fires, and torches dotted the cityscape, the moon reflecting off the lake surrounding the stone metropolis. Fires burned at the tops of the other temples, giving the city an even greater sense of size.

  Gabriel marveled. It really was stunning. The organization, the planning, the execution of the design, and all accomplished without a single piece of modern machinery. He wondered what the reaction of the first Spanish soldiers must have been. He thought about finding Manuel when he got back to the castle and asking him.

  Then he noticed something that felt like magic. Not from the city spread out before him, but from behind him. From the temple sanctuary where Ohin was. Something not quite right. Something that his time-sense said was all wrong. As he looked back at the sanctuary doorway, there was a flash of red light.

  He ran toward the sanctuary entrance even as the light faded away. Sema, Marcus, and Ling had seen the light, if not felt the surge of magical energy. He didn’t think they could have sensed the disturbance of space-time the way he had. At the doorway, he found the sanctuary empty. Ohin, Chimalli, Teresa, and Rajan were gone. Sema reached the sanctuary as Gabriel stepped inside.

  “What’s happened?” Sema said as she walked past Gabriel. The small fireballs Teresa had set floating in the corners of the sanctuary had vanished. Only dim moonlight illuminated the chamber.

  “There was some disturbance in the fabric of space-time,” Gabriel said. “I could feel it even from outside.”

  “A trap,” Marcus said from behind. “A bloody trap.”

  “Maybe something went wrong with severing the connection to the dagger,” Sema said.

  “Tăoyàn de! Ohin would never leave without us,” Ling stated as she pulled a hand-cranked flashlight from a pocket in her dress. Gabriel heard a click, and the white light of the flashlight flicked around the room. It looked just as he had left it.

  “He couldn’t travel anywhere,” Gabriel said, pulling the chunk of amber from the pouch in his pocket to show them. “I’ve still got his relic that leads back to the castle.”

  “How many blades were there?” Marcus said as he pointed to the stone table with the sacrificial daggers. Ling swung the light of the flashlight to the low set table.

  “Five,” Gabriel said, seeing that there were now only four.

  “It was a trap,” Sema said.

  “How?” Gabriel asked.

  “I don’t know how it works,” Ling replied, “but I know that relics and artifacts can be enchanted to take someone through time against their will.”

  “But then where are they?” Gabriel asked.

  “They could be any place in time that dagger was,” Marcus said.

  “We need to get back to the castle,” Ling said. “You’ll have to take us, Gabriel.”

  “No,” Marcus said. “Not back to the castle. Not yet.”

  “Why the hell not?” Ling growled.

  “Because this trap wasn’t likely to be random,” Sema said.

  “Someone at the castle has turned colors,” Marcus said.

  “Then where the hell do we go?” Ling said, anger making her face flush.

  “There’s something happening outside,” Gabriel said before Marcus or Sema could answer Ling’s question. “Someone is traveling through time.” He could feel it clearly now. They ran for the door in unison.

  They rushed out of the temple top sanctuary, each scanning the city and the temple. Gabriel saw a cluster of four people standing at the base of the temple stairs. He knew they were mages even at a distance. He could feel the magical energy they held. His hopes rose for a moment, imaging that the Council had sent a rescue party. The magical energy felt different. Odd. Unlike the energy he was used to sensing. Then he realized it was because these were not mages sent by the Council to take them back to the castle. These were Malignancy Mages.

  “Him,” Sema said.

&n
bsp; “I should have bloody known,” Marcus cursed.

  “Jiànhuò!” Ling spat.

  One person stepped forward from the four. All were dressed in black, but this one was taller than the others were. He had long black hair and, although Gabriel could not see him perfectly, he knew by description who stood at the bottom of the temple; it sent a cold chill down to his stomach. “Apollyon,” he said in a whisper.

  In unison Ling, Sema, and Marcus extended their arms. One of the men grabbed his head and crumpled to the ground, another pitched back through the air, and a third went rigid and was suddenly immobile. Gabriel knew his companions were casting magic at the Malignancy Mages below, but Apollyon seemed unaffected.

  Suddenly he stood at the top of the temple only a few feet before them. Gabriel and the others staggered back. It happened so quickly, Gabriel barely sensed the distortion of space-time before Apollyon completed his jump. He stared at them with contemptuous dark eyes. Gabriel could see now that he was an extremely handsome man, of Greek descent, with sharp features and an even sharper intelligence radiating from his eyes.

  “Pitiful,” Apollyon said. “How is your newest Time Mage to learn with such shoddy examples? Allow me to instruct him.” Apollyon raised his hand and a crimson fireball the size of a watermelon burst into existence and leapt directly toward Gabriel. His first impulse was to jump through space, and he reached for the magic energy within him, but he was too new to magic, and there was no time to jump through space to safety, no time to duck; there was barely time to raise his hands. Somehow he did. He raised his hands as he reached for the magic within.

  The fireball stopped just before it hit him, hovering, frozen in midair before his open palms. It didn’t make sense, and he could see the look of shock and surprise on Apollyon’s face, but Gabriel didn’t wait for explanations. He focused his will on the fireball, and it shot back through the air toward Apollyon. The black-clad man was so surprised by the turn of events that the fireball burst around him. While Apollyon was stunned and stumbled back down the steps of the pyramid, Gabriel could see that the impact of the fireball had little other effect. He felt hands on his shoulders as Marcus pressed a stone with a small, round hole carved in one side into his right hand.

  “Take us now!” Marcus said. “Make the jump, Boy, while there’s still time.”

  Chapter 10: St. Fillan’s Stones

  Gabriel didn’t wait to ask questions. It didn’t matter where and when they jumped to, as long as it was far away from Apollyon. Gabriel reached out with his time-sense toward the stone. An image filled his mind of a hut and a forest and green hills. He willed his magical energy through the pocket watch and toward that place in time. Then the blackness encircled them, the white light filling everything, and they suddenly stood in the little field at the edge of the forest that Gabriel had seen.

  “Jump again, Gabriel,” Sema said.

  “Before he can follow,” Ling hissed.

  Gabriel knew they were right. A True Mage with Apollyon’s power could sense the distortions in the fabric of space-time and follow them to their destination even without a relic. The only way to lose him was to make repeated time jumps.

  Gabriel used the stone in his hand again and jumped. And jumped again. And again. The stone did not seem to have moved much in space. It was always the same low mountains in the background, the same streams, the same lake, the same green hills and sparse forests. Sometimes a house became visible for a moment, sometimes a cluster of homes that indicated a town, sometimes nothing but a field of low grass with grazing sheep. Gabriel felt safe when he saw the sheep for some reason and stopped there.

  “Do you think that’s enough?” he asked, looking around. He noticed the others had reverted to their white tunics and pants. He looked down and saw that he had unconsciously done the same.

  “I doubt anyone could follow those jumps,” Marcus said, catching his breath.

  “My head is spinning,” Ling muttered as she staggered away.

  “Very well done, Gabriel,” Sema said, patting him on the shoulder with one hand while pressing the heel of the other to her temple.

  “Where are we?” Gabriel asked, holding up the stone as he looked around at the flock of sheep wandering away over the dark green hillside.

  “Scotland,” Marcus said, taking the stone back from Gabriel. “Glen Dochart. Home of Saint Fillan and his healing stones. This one is my talisman.”

  Gabriel found that all three mages were staring at him. “What?” he said, unsure of why he was the focus of attention.

  “You stopped that fireball, Lad,” Marcus said. “Do you know what that means?”

  “Not really,” Gabriel said. “It was just a fluke. I wanted to duck or use magic to jump away, but there wasn’t time.”

  “Mages can only use one kind of magic,” Sema said. “A Time Mage can’t wield fire.”

  “And you threw that fireball back at Apollyon without even moving your arms,” Ling said. “That takes Wind Magic and I could feel you use it.”

  “I just did it without thinking,” Gabriel said.

  “Which is probably why no one noticed before,” Sema said.

  “The boy’s so strong in Time Magic, who would think to look?” Marcus said. “Even if they did believe.”

  “Believe what?” Gabriel said.

  “The prophecy,” Ling said. “The damn prophecy.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Gabriel said, looking from face to face and trying to figure out if he had done something wrong. Why else would they seem so concerned?

  “You caught and then threw a fireball,” Marcus said. “Only one kind of mage could do that, Lad.”

  “A True Mage,” Sema said.

  “I can’t be a True Mage,” Gabriel said. “There are only six True Mages.”

  “Yes,” Ling said. “One for each magic.”

  “Three for the forces of Grace and three for the forces of Malignancy,” Sema added.

  “But the Prophecy speaks of a Seventh True Mage,” Marcus said.

  “One who is different,” Ling added.

  “One who is unique,” Sema said.

  “One who can use both kinds of imprints,” Marcus said. “One who can stand between the forces of Grace and Malignancy and wield them both.”

  Gabriel said nothing, his mind a flurry of thoughts, a windstorm raging inside his head. He was a True Mage. That’s what they had said. That’s what catching the fireball meant. He could use all six magics. He would be a True Mage like Councilwoman Elizabeth, and Akikane, and Nefferati.

  But he was more than that. If what they said was true, he could also use tainted artifacts, objects with negative imprints, like the True Mages of the Malignancy. Like Apollyon. The windstorm picked up speed and the world seemed to spin. His knees buckled and he sat down in the short grass. Ling and Sema knelt down beside him, placing a hand on either shoulder to steady him. Marcus looked down at him, his face a mask of seriousness, but his eyes gentle.

  “Do you know what this means, Lad?” Marcus asked.

  “I can use all magics and any artifact,” Gabriel said.

  “If the prophecy is true,” Ling said.

  “That’s easy enough to verify,” Sema said.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Marcus said. “The boy needs to know.”

  “Know what?” Gabriel asked. What could be worse than being half Malignancy Mage?

  “Apollyon saw you,” Sema said. “He’ll know what you are.”

  “Being able to use both Grace and Malignant imprints makes you very special,” Ling said.

  “Don’t try to soften it for him,” Marcus said, looking Gabriel directly in the eyes. “You’ll be hunted, Boy. The Council will love you, oh yes, they’ll fawn over you like a prize peacock, but they won’t be the only ones who’ll want your favor. You’re valuable, Boy. Grace magic in one hand, Malignant magic in the other. Your power could tip the balance. Could end the war. One way or the other. And Apollyon
knows it. He’ll be looking for you now. Searching.”

  “I’d never help the Malignancy,” Gabriel said, fighting the icy feeling in his stomach, letting the anger well up in his voice.

  “We would never think that you would,” Sema said.

  “But if Apollyon gets a hold of you, he’ll try to persuade you,” Ling said.

  “And he is a powerful Soul Mage,” Sema said. “He can be persuasive even to those who hate him. And he has other methods, as well.”

  “If he can’t win you over to his side,” Marcus said, “he’ll try to kill you.”

  “Great,” Gabriel said, his anger evaporating, overtaken by the icy fear in his stomach. “I think I’d like to go back to the bus at the bottom of the river now.”

  “There’s no point in frightening him needlessly,” Sema said, glaring at Marcus.

  “I said Apollyon would try to kill him,” Marcus said. “I didn’t say he would. Hell, we’d all lay down our lives to protect the Seventh True Mage. The whole castle would.”

  That didn’t make Gabriel feel any better. He was no longer helping fight a war between wizards; he was at the center of it. His actions might not only endanger himself, but all of the Grace Mages and the Council, and with them, the whole of the Continuum. The windstorm in his head stopped. All the trees of his mind had already blown down. He could barely think. He focused on his breath. He had to see. He took out his pocket watch. He looked down at his hands; one closed around the watch, the other open, palm up. He reached for the magic within and focused it through the pocket watch, willing the image in his mind into existence. A small ball of mandarin-colored fire appeared, floating above his hands.

  “Teresa’s going to be so jealous,” Ling said. “It took her a whole hour to manage that.”