Red Magic: an Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance: Sector 6 (The Othala Witch Collection)

by JC Andrijeski

  Still, I definitely got the impression her words embarrassed him.

  “I’m Miggs,” the other warlock said unexpectedly, as though indifferent to the argument between the two others. “Personally, I have no trouble admitting I’d have risked life and limb to rescue you, huntress.” He grinned at me widely, ignoring Donal’s glare. “And if this git’s pissed ye off well and good, then I’m happy to take his place as yer escort, too.... even if you do talk like one of them white cunts.”

  Donal winced that time openly, giving him an angry look. “Do ye both have to go out of yer way to convince her we’re unmannered barbarians in the first five minutes of ‘er being here?” He gave the one called Miggs an even colder look. “And if I catch you trying to get a leg over on this one, before she’s had a chance to even settle here, you’ll answer to me. An’ I don’t mean that in an abstract way, neither.”

  I didn’t catch all the slang, but I got the gist.

  For some reason, it irritated me and amused me in nearly equal parts.

  “Well,” I said before Donal could go on yelling at Miggs. “Are you all quite finished talking about me? Can we go now? I’m assuming we’re late for something or other, are we not? Or did you just drag me out of bed so you could argue amongst yourselves?” I gave Donal a flat look. “Or try and outdo one another on who can make the most off-putting and uncomfortable comment in front of me?”

  All three of them just stared at me for a moment.

  Then Yanna laughed aloud, walking toward me in long, easy strides.

  “Come with me,” she said with authority, looping her arm through mine. “We’ll let the lads work out their little wee-brained power struggles withou’ us. In the meantime, you must be starvin’. We’ll get food in ye before we go out to the range.”

  I let her lead me down the corridor, smiling in spite of myself.

  I was hungry, but it was more than that. I felt the genuine warmth there.

  Whatever Yanna’s initial assessments of me had been, she’d made up her mind about me in a more positive direction in the minutes since.

  And funnily enough, although she’d been kidding, I thought, when she’d made that crack about Donal and Miggs, I heard the two of them talking heatedly in low voices as they followed about a dozen steps behind us. I didn’t pick up any of the details, or even the meaning of the vocal tones really, but I heard Donal a lot, and I could tell he was angry.

  I think that was less about his voice, though, and more what I felt––in that eerie yet tangible way I had of picking up on Donal’s emotional currents, a habit I apparently hadn’t shaken.

  I managed to block out most of it by focusing on Yanna as she talked.

  “Ye know what we do here?” she said, her arm still looped in mine so that we walked nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. “Did Donal tell ye the situation, at least?”

  I shook my head, then paused. “Well... somewhat,” I admitted. “He told me you hunt and kill ravagers, among other things. That you act as protectors of the realm, the first line of defense before they can reach Heaven’s Sky.” I hesitated. “He also said you’re all prisoners here... that you’re culled at birth as red witches to be made slaves of the Regent’s kingdom.”

  I wasn’t sure how she’d react to the second part of that, but she nodded, unsurprised and in full agreement with everything I’d said.

  “Aye,” she said only. “All of that’s true enough.”

  I bit my lip, then asked it anyway, gesturing around us with my free hand as we walked.

  “How is it you’re prisoners?” I said. “You can come and go as you please. I slept in a room and a bed far nicer than any I’ve ever had back home, and I lived in the Regent’s palace. What about this is anything like being held in bondage?”

  Again, Yanna glanced at me, unperturbed. “Aye, I can see how it might appear that way to ye. We’re not ill-treated, it’s true... we’re fed well, bedded well, and we have the run of th’ Black Fortress when we’re here. But ourn lives are not ourn, Maia. We cannot leave this place, not of ourn free will. The Regent goes to consider’ble trouble to make sure we can’t.”

  She pointed around at the stone corridor.

  “When we leave these walls, we go on th’ leash of the Regent, make no mistake. We kill for ‘er, and like good pets, they bring us back ‘ere after, home sweet home and a comfy bed and good food and pats on the head.” She grinned, winking at me cheekily. “We’re even allowed to fuck the other littl’ doggies, if we like. But we don’t leave, Maia... not until the Regent wants it, and then only t’ do what she says.”

  She glanced around at the high-ceilinged corridor a second time, and for the first time I let myself notice the space through which we passed. In style, it wasn’t dissimilar to the bedroom I’d found myself in when I woke, with high ceilings covered in colorful mosaics, life-like stone statues along the walls next to golden images of cross-legged saints with upturned palms, and long boats with dragon’s heads.

  “...This castle belonged to our people, ironically enough,” Yanna said with a snort. “‘Tis the Black Fortress, an’ belonged t’ the last great family of red witches, led by Ilric the Brave. ‘E was a great warrior, one who led many of th’ large battles against the ravagers, back when humans were being slain like cattle ‘cross most of the countryside. Fears of extinction were real back then... very real to many.”

  She turned, smiling at me.

  “Ye know the story of Ilric, right? ‘E fell in love with th’ great white witch of the East, our first Regent and your blood-ancestor, or so ourn Donal tells us. Ilric an’ Ilawanai were said t’ be deeply in love. They stayed so throughout th’ time of the ravager wars. According to our myths, meaning those of the red magic kin, at the end of the worst of the fighting, Ilric gave the throne to his lady love rather than take it himself. ‘E believed Ilawanai would lead wi’ more gentleness than ‘e, and that th’ people needed gentleness more than war.”

  Motioning up at the walls, she smiled at me.

  “He built this place to remain on the front lines, protecting ‘is people, an’ close to Ilawanai, who remain’d only a boat-ride away. Sadly, ‘e died not long after giving ‘er the Regent’s chair, leaving ‘er distraught and without companionship for the rest of ‘er days. It’s said this whole tradition of celibacy among the white Regents is nothing more than a misinterpretation of the poor woman’s grief... that it’s got nothin’ at all to do wi’ protecting the ‘purity’ of white magic, and nothin’ to do with being Regent, neither.”

  I listened to her words in wonder, not speaking since I wished to hear her speak. I felt a strange melancholy from her story of Ilric and Ilawanai, and remembered I’d felt the same when Donal told me a slightly different version of the story in Krungthoi.

  The story rang true both times, in a way few stories about our past ever did.

  “Were they married then?” I said, looking at Yanna. “Ilric and Ilawanai?”

  The red-haired witch nodded. “Very much married, yes.”

  “Wouldn’t there be records, if that was so?” I said. “If they had truly been married, if Ilric had really fought in battles and given her the throne? Wouldn’t that be written down somewhere?”

  Yanna snorted, rolling her eyes at me.

  Her smile remained friendly, however.

  “P’raps yer the only record of their coupling left, huntress Maia?” she teased, squeezing my arm. “How do ye s’pose red magic blood got mixed up in wi’ the white royal bloodline, if there’s not at least one heir of Ilric’s somewhere in th’ mix? Ye should know by now, governments can erase history just fine, if they put their minds to it. They can erase a whole branch off their family tree apparently, too.” Yanna grunted. “At least if what Donal tells us is true.”

  Thinking about her words, I frowned.

  I had more I wanted to ask about that, but I had more pressing questions weighing on me.

  Things I needed answered right now.

  “But how are you i
mprisoned here?” I asked. “You seem to walk freely wherever you like. And you are armed... and even if there are more armed guards than you, I would think enough pitched battles and your utility would be questioned by those in power. Especially if you refused to fight for them, in addition to trying to get free.”

  “Ah!” Yanna’s eyes flashed a sharper glint as she glanced in my direction. “I see what ‘tis that’s bothering ye. Donal didna tell ye how they keep us here, did ‘e?”

  I shook my head. “No. He said only that it was unpleasant.”

  She shrugged, her expression obviously somewhat in disagreement. “No’ unpleasant. No’ exactly,” she said. “Inevitable, p’raps. That which cannot be bested or even fought.”

  “But what?” I said, biting back impatience. “What cannot be fought?”

  Yanna looked at me, surprised. “Our access to the lizards, o’ course. They hold that, just like a desert king hoards all the water.” At my blank stare, she gave me an incredulous look. “Fire lizards, Maia. The source of our power. The Capitol owns the lot of ‘em. They control ‘em here at the Fortress and ever’ where else. We canna live without ‘em, so when they control the lizards... they control us. Get it?”

  I stared back at her, pursing my lips. “No,” I said, incredulity audible in my voice. “What on Othala are fire lizards?”

  Yanna snorted, her eyes widening in surprise. “What are fire lizards? You really don’t know much about our ways, do you?” A bemused look on her face, she added, “Why, fire lizards are only the single most important thing to a red witch or warlock, being the source of our power and all. They’re also th’ one thing no red warlock or witch can ever kill.”

  “They hold our power?” My brow wrinkled still more. “How? In what way?”

  Yanna shrugged. “Who knows how such ancient magics work, princess? ‘Tis said they pull our magics from the rocks below, bringing them up out of the middle of the planet, from the molten parts at the center, so we can use that power here, on the surface. It’s also said that red magic comes from the fire lizards themselves... that they’re just molten rock in living form. Either way, the Regent holds the lizards. We can’t fight that. It’s like fighting ourn own souls.” She gave me a grim look. “Whenever we’ve tried, a whole lot of us die.”

  Remembering the mural on the ceiling of my bedchamber, I frowned.

  Yanna patted me on the back, her voice cheerful once more.

  “Dunna worry about it, Maia,” she said. “The life here is good, like you said. It’s really not such a bad life, all in all.”

  But part of her words echoed in my head, even as I nodded.

  When they control the lizards... they control us.

  Thinking about those words, I found a different set of meanings echoing in my mind. I didn’t recognize them at first, when suddenly I remembered; they came from the giant, blue-gray lizard I’d met in the Water Market, the same day I’d first met Donal.

  Free me, beautiful one... free me... and I will free you.

  Glancing back at Donal, I felt my throat tighten as a hotter fire surged in my veins.

  Chapter 14

  FINDING A PLACE

  A FEW DAYS later, I finally got to see fire lizards with my own eyes.

  It was my fourth day on the training course.

  I knew, because I’d woken up sore three days in a row now, with muscles aching I hadn’t even known existed before I came to this place.

  Even that first day, I spent hours on different parts of the training grounds by the time my trainer called a halt.

  I also ate two separate meals in the large, metal-covered expanse that Donal called a “mess hall,” which was filled from one end to the other with long benches and tables. I was astonished to see most of those benches full at both times of day. While their ages spanned a considerably wider range, most of the witches and warlocks sitting in there also looked and dressed more or less like Donal, Yanna and Miggs.

  And me now, too, I supposed.

  I looked like them, as well.

  I tried to count them all, with us sitting there, eating a surprisingly good meal of eggs, steamed vegetables, bacon, rice and sausage. I gave up after I got to about a hundred, and decided, based on how much of the room that covered, there had to be three or four hundred of us in total, all eating at the same time under the same roof.

  Donal told me I was looking at the bulk of the red magic protectors of the western region of District 6. He further told me that another fortress lived in the east, another in the southern part of the continent, and yet three more, much smaller outposts, existed on the islands.

  He also said there were areas of the fortress dedicated to children, the old and those who did other jobs in the compound apart from fighting.

  The Black Fortress was the largest of all red magic outposts, apparently, since we were responsible for the ravagers to the north and to the west, where their numbers were greatest and they posed the biggest threat. The red witches here had even done the difficult work of attempting to reclaim some territory from the hordes, especially to the west, but from what Donal and Yanna told me, it was uphill work, and could be reversed almost as often as it progressed.

  They took me to the magical practice range, not long after that first meal.

  It was nothing like my classes at the monastery.

  Two teachers, both of them older red witches, took me aside to assess what I could do. I noticed Donal tagged along and watched, not speaking but assessing my abilities along with the two instructors. He also told them about my ability to open the locked door in that underground passage under the palace grounds, and said I’d clearly used magic to do it.

  I didn’t argue with him, but listened to them talk about me.

  I admit to some disbelief when I got my first compliment from one of my teachers, after she had me create what they called a “hand-flame” by concentrating that hotter red energy in my belly and projecting it out to my fingertips.

  I found it surprisingly easy... and fun.

  When I looked up from a minor but profound-feeling success at my very first try, I found Donal watching me again, that intent, probing look back on his face.

  I wondered again what he was doing here, what he even wanted from me.

  Was this guilt I was seeing, that he felt the need to follow me around, to make sure I got assimilated here at the domain of “my” people? Was he protecting me in some way? Did he feel obligated towards me until I found my own way around the fortress?

  Or did he still work for my mother, and this was just another means of her attempting to control me from a distance?

  I didn’t ask, but I found myself ignoring him as the day progressed.

  By late afternoon, my legs and arms were so sore from the unfamiliar exercises I’d spent most of the day doing, I could barely walk. I had been praised so often by then, it had nearly grown uncomfortable, but I felt a part of me glowing under the encouragement, as well.

  The next day, they increased the difficulty of the tasks they had me do, now that they knew I had a “natural affinity” for red magic, as they termed it––something I had never before heard in relation to myself and any form of magics.

  When the teacher said it, my throat tightened without warning.

  I grew embarrassed when I realized her words so touched me, I was fighting tears.

  The teacher herself, a kind but tough-seeming middle-aged witch named Luna, seemed to understand. She looked like a warrior herself, and forbidding with long black hair streaked with grey and high cheekbones and coal-black eyes like Donal’s. Even so, she hugged me after the first round of tests that second day... another first for me, and something the monks at the monastery would never, ever have done, for any reason.

  On day three, Luna began stepping up my training in earnest.

  She and her assistant, a younger red witch named Cari, had me running while attempting to build those red flames in my arms and hands. They had me shooting those flames at targets
shortly after that... and then shooting guns and projecting shields and shooting more red flames while running and using the weapons.

  I was put on moving targets by day four.

  They started stepping me up to heavier artillery on day five.

  The second half of each training day mostly consisted of physical strength training, so they could work me up to hand-to-hand and other combat skills, Luna said. Not unkindly, she frowned and shook her head over how “soft” I had become living with the white witches.

  She also said, with great conviction, that she would remedy that, and that I would hardly recognize myself when she was finished.

  I found the idea daunting, but also exhilarating, I admit.

  I also understood the clothing and the boots by the end of those days.

  After several days of Luna running me through drills and obstacle courses, I learned I would be covered in sweat by the end of each of session, dusty from the running tracks and hilly terrain, and limping from sore muscles and blisters. I’d been given hand-grips and gloves for climbing over rope obstacles and swinging from metal bars and rope hand-holds. Even with the protective gear, however, more sore spots, blisters and scrapes stung parts of my hands and heels and other parts of my body by the end of each day.

  After the first of these courses, I swore I’d wear my hair like Yanna’s the next day, as well, at least in the front to keep it out of my eyes.

  So far, that really seemed to help.

  Despite all of my pains and aches and missteps on that first day, I felt something in me begin to change by the end of it.

  It felt like coming alive... or perhaps waking after a long sleep.

  Whatever Donal truly thought of our being here, locked inside this fortress to work for the Regent and her white witches––to me, it felt like a revelation in that first week, even a rebirth. The sheer ability to be myself, finally and without compromise, changed everything I thought I knew about my old life, and certainly what it meant to be a witch.

  Truthfully, it felt more like freedom than anything I’d ever experienced in the Capitol.