Magicians' Reckoning

by H. L. Burke

  The door to the breakfast nook creaked open, and Jericho strode in. Dark circles consumed his eyes, he’d missed a large section of his cheek shaving, and there was a white stain of some sort on his brown workman’s vest.

  Auric raised his eyebrows. “You look like you wrestled a Fey dragon and lost.”

  Jericho grimaced and plopped into the chair across the table. “A Fey dragon has nothing on a colicky two-month-old.” He eyed the tea pot. “I hope it’s strong.”

  “Still not sleeping much, are they?” Auric asked, really just to make polite conversation. If he were honest, too much of conversation around the Manor had been “baby related” of late. He missed talking shop with Jericho, discussing the most efficient way to get through the spell orders for that week, or cheerfully chatting about theoretical magic with Rill who was still learning the basics.

  “If one is, the other isn’t. Thankfully when I left, all three of them were out cold. Rill maybe caught three hours of sleep last night between feedings.” Steam wafted from Jericho’s cup, but he sipped at it anyway. He then set it down and rubbed his forehead. “Coffee might be better. I should ask Annie to pick some up next market day.”

  “Good morning, boys.” Hedward entered, Iris on his arm. “Any muffins left?”

  Auric pulled the cloth napkin from the basket, revealing five crumb-topped blueberry pastries. Hedward’s eyes lit up. Iris sat and poured two cups of tea. She passed one to her husband.

  “Are there a lot of orders due this week?” Hedward asked between bites. Though after some issues with his health and a bureaucratic kerfuffle over his license, Hedward was officially retired, he couldn’t help meddling in the shop. Magic had been his life for almost three decades. No longer practicing in an official capacity couldn’t curb his interest.

  “Not much. There’s a petition from the Farmers’ Guild for rain this weekend, but I haven’t had a chance to calculate whether there’s enough ambient Fey energy to manipulate the weather patterns to that extent with so little notice.” Auric absentmindedly stirred his tea.

  “There should be. A Fey rift opened over the Fairy Steeple two days ago, and we haven’t used any of that energy yet.” Jericho yawned. “Excuse me.”

  “Master Spellsmith.” Will poked his gray head into the room. “There’s a visitor for you: Master Preston, the magician from Mill River. Do you want to see him in here?”

  “No, this room is already full to bursting.” Hedward stood and brushed crumbs from his coat. “Show him to the parlor, please. I’ll be there in a moment.”

  Auric rose. “If it’s a business call, I should take it.”

  “No reason we all can’t. The Prestons are old family friends, after all.”

  The three men and Iris left the breakfast nook and emerged into the foyer. A middle-aged man in a long black cloak, a couple decades out of fashion, awaited them. His slender fingers tightened around the brim of a stove-pipe hat.

  “Ah, Spellsmith, good to see you looking so well. My last visit was right after your stroke, and while I heard you had recovered, it is good to see with my own eyes.” Preston shook Hedward’s hand.

  “I’m doing much better. You remember my son, Auric, and our business partner, Jericho Carver.”

  Auric stepped forward and took his turn shaking their guest’s hand. The man’s eyes darted back and forth, as if afraid someone would jump out and attack him.

  “And my wife, Iris.” Hedward concluded the introduction. “Come. We were just finishing breakfast. Would you like anything?” He ushered their guest into their cozy parlor.

  Jaspyr lay on the couch, his nose tucked between his paws. He sighed and slipped under the furniture to make room for the humans. Auric noted the fox wasn’t his frisky self of late, perhaps depressed because his mistress hadn’t had time to take him for walks and sneak him bits of toast under the breakfast table since the twins arrived.

  Allowing their guest to take the best chair, Hedward and Iris sat upon the couch. Auric eyed the remaining chair, then Jericho. In spite of the fact that he was swaying slightly on his feet, Jericho remained standing. After some hesitation, Auric chose to do so as well.

  “What brings you all this way, Preston?” Hedward leaned forward.

  “I’m not quite sure.” Preston turned his hat in his hands. “It started about six months ago: I heard rumors of missing children out of the more rural areas of my district. At the time, it was considered a civil affair, some blame being placed on a traveling carnival that had been seen in the area, so regretfully, I kept out of it.” He shook his head. “The local sheriff investigated, of course, but the trail went cold … then two months after the first disappearance, another abduction happened right in my village.”

  “Did you try a tracking spell?” Auric asked.

  “Of course.” Preston’s eyes glinted. “I’m not incompetent. We did everything we could think of to find the child—a little girl named Rosie, the local bookseller’s daughter. I didn’t know the family well, but I visited their shop a few times a month, and I’d seen her. About eight with auburn curls, pretty except for an odd birthmark on her cheek, like a red thumbprint. Other girls used to tease her about that …” He trailed off and covered his eyes with his hand. “No suspects. She simply wandered off one day and never came back.”

  Mother gripped Father’s hand. “And you never found her?”

  Jericho wobbled. Auric elbowed him in the side and motioned towards the chair. Jericho frowned but eased into the seat.

  “Yes and no. It gets strange,” Preston continued. “Last week, another child went missing, and in our search, we found a body, but not of the missing child, of an old woman no one in town could identify. The thing is—” He cleared his throat. “She had the same birthmark Rosie did, right here.” He touched his cheek. “That and the fact that we found the body right where the trail of the second missing child ended, well, everyone in the village started whispering that it was devil work, or at the very least Fey.”

  A chill shot through Auric, and it was all he could do not to look at his mother. As human as she seemed, Iris was full-blooded Fey, a fact they didn’t speak of outside the family.

  “You always knew more about the Fey than I did, Hedward. Could this be their doing? I haven’t heard of a Fey attack in decades.”

  Father placed his hand on Mother’s knee. “Perhaps, but I’m not the only expert in the family. Is there anything else that makes you think it is Fey?”

  “Not really, but we don’t have much to go on.” Preston blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I left Mill River before the dawn.”

  “Would you like some tea?” Jericho stood. Auric suspected he wanted it for his own use as much as Preston’s. Jericho still looked about ready to nod off.

  “No, I’m fine. I shouldn’t linger long.” Preston sat straighter, concentrating on Hedward. “Do you have any books on Fey attacks? Books on barrier spells? Anything I can use to calm the locals? They’re up in arms about this, and while I can’t blame them, they threatened to hang a traveling peddler on suspicion of being a child-murdering Fey sorcerer just yesterday. The sheriff broke up the mob, but I need to do something before they tear the town to pieces.”

  “Yes, I have some books on the subject, plus I can write down some barrier spells.” Hedward stood. “Auric, would you fetch my copies of Lynn’s Guide to Fey Wards and Foster’s Compendium of Fairy Deterrents?”

  “Of course.” Auric left the parlor. The faint sound of a crying baby drifted down the stairs from the family wing, and he winced.

  Poor Rill.

  By the time he dug the proper books out of his father’s disorganized library, Preston and his father waited in the entry way.

  “I’m sorry to visit on such short notice only to leave so soon, but we’re still hoping we might find the child before it’s too late.” Preston shook Father’s hand again.

  Auric offered him the books. “Here they are. Sorry it took so long.”

  He
dward passed Preston a scrap of paper. “This isn’t a comprehensive list, but it’s a good start: all the plants I could think of with anti-Fey properties. There are more in the books, but you wish to begin right away, I suggest hanging sprigs of dried rosemary over doors.”

  “What about salt trails?” Preston asked. “They supposedly work for demons. Fey are essentially the same thing, aren’t they?”

  Auric’s ears burned.

  Hedward shook his head. “Not at all. Some Fey have an intolerance towards iron, but I’ve never heard of one turned away by salt … Also, until we know more about what we’re dealing with, it will be hard to combat it. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

  Auric waited until Preston had left before speaking again. “Obviously he doesn’t know about Mother.”

  Father smiled wryly. “I considered it poor form to include her heritage on our marriage announcement. However, if anyone can figure out what we’re facing here, it will be her.”

  When they returned to the parlor, Iris put her finger to her lips. “Shh.” She nodded towards Jericho. His head slumped towards his chest, and he snored quietly.

  Auric snickered.

  “Let’s take this to the garden.” Iris stood. “I feel more at ease talking out there.”

  The three of them walked the overgrown paths towards the old glass greenhouse at the back of the garden. A stone bench sat under an ancient, thick-trunked alder tree. Iris settled on this and gave a sigh. “I thought with the artificial rifts closed we wouldn’t have to deal with this sort of thing.”

  “Do you know what it is?” Hedward asked.

  “And how to stop it?” Auric added.

  “I wish I could be sure.” The sun through the green leaves cast speckled shadows on her face. Though her hair was snow white, Iris had an ageless face. “Not many Fey are capable of inflicting rapid aging. Maybe three varieties? And of those three, none of them should be able to survive in the human realms as long as six months. It’s not natural to most of us.”

  “How many sorts of Fey are there?” Auric had only become aware of his mother’s true nature a little over a year before, around the time he had returned from the Academy and met Jericho.

  “I’m not sure there’s a definitive list.” She shrugged. “Over a hundred?”

  His eyes widened. “A hundred?”

  “Oh, easily, but the sort of Fey makes a difference. Humans tend to use it as a catchall term for anything that’s native to the Fey Realms, but that’s sort of like grouping humans with rabbits and garden snails simply because they are native to the mortal side of the divide.”

  “And where are you on that scale?” Auric tilted his head, feeling mischievous. “Closer to a human or a snail?”

  She waved a finger at him. “Don’t get fresh with me, young man.”

  “It’s a fair question, Iris.” Hedward smiled.

  “Yeah, during my trip into the Fey Lands I saw everything from unicorns and dragons to sprites and some sort of spider-shifter-demon-lady who tried to suck my juices out.”

  Iris inhaled sharply. “You saw a Spiren? Dear boy, you are lucky to be standing here with your ‘juices’ intact. Those creatures are vicious.”

  “Could it be a Spiren behind the disappearances?” Hedward asked. “It was the first thing that popped into mind when he said the corpse looked like an old woman.”

  “Well, a Spiren’s victim might appear to have aged. When they drain you, you kind of shrivel, but I can’t see one staying hidden long in our world. They can only maintain a human guise for a few minutes at a time, and their true form is hard to miss, what with the extra appendages.”

  Auric winced at the memory. “So, is this even your true form. I mean, I’m half whatever you are. I think I have a right to know.”

  “Settle down, Auric, dear. I’m a High Fey, which is to say I’m more or less a human.”

  “What?” Auric squinted at her.

  “I’m not sure why the surprise. The fact that you exist is testament to your father and myself being essentially the same species. Cats can’t breed with dogs or horses with cows, you know. No, both humans and High Fey descended from a common ancestor, millennia ago, when the rifts between the human world and the Fey Lands were wider and more frequent. The great magicians in those days—the ones who liked to give themselves fancy titles like ‘sorcerer supreme’ or ‘grand high magus’—often roamed into the Fey Lands to gather energy for their spells or simply explore.” Her eyes took on a faraway look, as if remembering something told to her long before. “The humans back then were less sensitive to the energy than modern man, and their time spent in the Fey Lands further altered their physical make-up, allowing them to interact with the energy without the use of channeling tools such as styluses and quires. Still, at their core, High Feys are ‘enhanced’ humans.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” Auric scratched at his beard. He’d never been comfortable with the idea of being half-Fey. It made more sense with Rill somehow, with her sensitivity towards and intuitive use of magic. While Auric knew himself to be a talented magician, he’d always felt very human. “So whatever is taking children from Mill River Crossing isn’t High Fey, right? What other sorts of Fey are there?”

  “Well, you have ‘natural Fey,’—the dragons and the unicorns who are essentially our version of animals—true Fey, such as Sprites and Pixies who are sentient, intelligent beings much like humans except … not, and then there are the darker Fey: the Spirens, the Morrigans, the Banshees, creatures with a natural bent towards chaos and destruction.” She rubbed her hand up and down the smooth stone bench. “The only ones I can think of who could cause rapid aging are Spirens, Soulsnatchers, and Leechers.”

  Auric nearly swallowed his tongue. “Leechers? Like leeches?”

  “An apt description. Except they don’t suck blood; they absorb lifeforce which can lead to rapid aging and death. They also like to feed upon a single source for a prolonged period, which could explain the abduction and gaps between the victims. However, they are not native to this world, and they don’t necessarily prefer the taste of humans. It doesn’t make sense for one to linger here rather than return to the Fey Lands.”

  Auric’s stomach twisted with cold realization. “Maybe they can’t.”

  Hedward groaned. “Because of how you closed the rifts.”

  Auric nodded. It seemed like that decision, however good his motives, would haunt him for the rest of his life. “Since I created that barrier spell to keep the human magicians from opening artificial rifts, the natural rifts have been opening less frequently, and the ones that are opening are smaller. Could I have trapped one on the wrong side?”

  “Maybe. It has to be a Leecher, but they are so dependent of Fey energy. How could one survive for a full year here?” She rubbed her upper arms and shivered in spite of the warm June sun. Father wrapped his arm about her. Her expression hardened. “I need to stop it.”

  “You?” Auric stood straighter.

  “It’s my duty. In the Fey Lands my birthright was as a gatekeeper, overseeing the Fey who passed through the rifts. It was our responsibility to see that we didn’t exploit the mortals and to control the amount of Fey energy seeping into the mortal world.” A proud smile crept across her face. “A heritage you proved yourself worthy of when you took action to close the rifts and protect that world.”

  Pride burst like a flare in his chest, but he swallowed his silly grin to match the gravity of the conversation. “Yes, well, that seems to have caused as many problems as it fixed.”

  She took his hand. “We gatekeepers often have to make choices without knowing all the consequences. Every stone’s throw has ripples, Auric. That doesn’t mean that this is in any way your fault.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you facing this alone.” Hedward drew her closer. “I know you are the best to fight this. My knowledge of the Fey is extensive for a human magician, but I’ve only scratched the surface compared to you. I’d like to accompany yo
u, however.”

  “Oh, Hedward, darling.” She kissed his forehead. “After what you went through in the Fey Lands and your stroke last year … please, for my sake, stay here. I will be fine, and someone needs to look after these young folk. Also, you know there will be consequences if the Magicians’ Congress catches you practicing your craft.”

  Auric winced. His father’s licence had been revoked as part of the bureaucratic fallout from the rifts closing. Another of those so-called ripples.

  Iris turned her clear blue eyes on Auric. Something sent a shudder through him.

  “I’d like to speak to our son alone, if you would give us a moment, dear,” she said.

  Hedward glanced from his wife to Auric then gave a slow nod. “I’ll be in the library, then. Forcibly retired or not, I can still stay informed.”

  Iris waited until Hedward had disappeared down the garden path then patted the seat beside her. Auric sat. The stone felt cold even through the cloth of this trousers.

  Iris closed her eyes, raised her face towards the sky, and drew a deep breath. The shadows of the leaves danced across her skin. “This past year, being reunited with you and your sister and father, it’s been Heaven, Auric. I never forgave myself for abandoning you when you were a boy. It was a last ditch effort to keep the mortal realms, and by extension you, safe, but it hurt like splitting myself in two.”

  “You didn’t have a choice.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t blame you, Mother.”

  “Yes, well, what I said about being proud of you and your heritage, I know that coming from a parent it must seem trite, but I meant every word. You’ve spent a lot of your life in your father’s shadow, but his time is passing.” She stroked his cheek. “Your time, however, Auric, is now. You need to look after this family while I’m gone. Your sister and Jericho are half-asleep on their feet. Parenting with young children is a fight for survival. Everything else comes in second to keeping those precious creatures healthy and happy, and that’s as it should be, but it means that if this family comes under attack while I’m away, they’ll be fighting with one hand tied behind their backs … and Rill is fierce and Jericho is steadfast, but they cannot do this alone. You are a Spellsmith. You are the rightful heir to this house, and you must protect it with all you are worth.”