The Rogue Mage (The Age of Oracles Book 1)

by Ben Hale

  One of the great waterfalls flowed out of the cliff above the keep and fell in graceful patterns, the streams of water twisting and curling before feeding the brooks that lined the city. The streams added a soft backdrop to the hum of industry.

  “It is beautiful, is it not?” Mineva asked.

  Alydian realized the question was directed at her. “Your city is wondrous.”

  Mineva stepped closer and lowered her tone. “I know Elsin invited you to the guild, Alethean,” she said. “I am glad you have this opportunity to witness our power.”

  Alydian wondered if that was the reason the Runeguard had been allowed into Verisith. If Elsin wanted Alethean to be impressed, she was. But the contrast to common settlements in the other kingdoms was striking.

  “Perhaps in time, all cities in Lumineia could be as beautiful,” Alydian said.

  Mineva smiled with a trace of smugness. “You speak our very desires.”

  “Then why does Elsin require so much coin for guild exports?” Devkin asked, gesturing to the nearby factories. “It’s clear you are able to produce much with little.”

  Mineva pointed to a small building with a forge, where a pair of mages built swords and enchanted them. “Other guilds have to work together to blend their magics,” she said. “A difficult and time-consuming task that requires mages to be trained in the complexities of combining magics. We are able to craft, enchant, and finish products in a fraction of the time it takes the single talent mages. Our guild members train for decades to master the skills required. Do we not deserve payment for our actions?”

  “Elsin’s predecessor did not seek wealth,” Alydian said. “He sought to better the lives of every class.”

  “Perhaps,” Mineva said, “but we lacked the resources to be innovative, to create new spells and push the boundary of what we know as magic. Elsin has shown us that we can do more . . . if we have more. This city used to be like any other, yet now it displays an abundance of spells that never before existed.”

  “Wealth and pride are ever allies,” Devkin said. “And pride does not like to share.”

  Mineva’s lips tightened. “I don’t expect a magicless to understand, Captain Devkin, but the guild has been preparing for centuries to change our world.”

  “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” Alydian asked. She almost asked about the Mage Empire but held the words in check.

  “In due time,” Mineva said with a smile.

  Alydian exchanged a look with Devkin, whose carefully controlled features revealed nothing.

  “How is Alydian?” Mineva asked, glancing at Devkin.

  It was good she wasn’t looking at Alydian, because her surprise would likely have given her away. Devkin flashed a disarming smile.

  “After the Soldier’s attack, she has thrown herself into studies.”

  “Rumor has it she is unwell,” Mineva said. “But then, fear is an ailment that is hard to remedy.”

  “Fear of what?” Devkin asked innocently.

  Mineva snorted. “Come now, Captain. She is not here and you do not need to protect her. We both know she has locked herself away since the Soldier attacked her. But she is not the first oracle to have a timid soul.”

  Alydian exchanged a look with Raiden and managed to keep the grin from her face. He too looked amused, his lips twitching before he looked away. Alydian wondered what Devkin would say, but Raiden spoke first.

  “Power is all the greater when it is unexpected,” he said. “And I suspect the girl will surprise you.”

  Alydian threw him a sharp look, but Mineva misunderstood. She nodded in agreement. “You speak with wisdom, Runeguard. Perhaps one day we will see if the girl has grit. But if the Verinai were permitted to protect her, she would not need it.”

  Raiden’s eyes flicked to Alydian and a faint smile crossed his face. “One with that much power does not need to be guarded.”

  Alydian raised an eyebrow. “You imply her magic surpasses the Verinai?”

  “And her beauty.”

  Alydian coughed and looked away to hide her flush. Jester smirked and nudged Raiden, while Devkin coughed, throwing a warning look at Raiden. Grogith scowled at the banter. Unperturbed, Raiden kept his expression bland, as if he’d made an offhand comment.

  Mineva’s eyes narrowed in irritation and confusion, and for a moment they walked in silence. When she spoke again it was about the city, and Alydian recognized it as an effort to shift the topic. But Alydian wondered if they had revealed too much.

  The road curved gently upward until it reached the keep. Half buried into the cliff at the rear of the city, the keep’s base levels were open, with pillars instead of walls. The grand hall at the bottom was stunning, with crystalline statues lining the exterior, all imbued with golden light. Adjacent to the hall, curving staircases swept upward to the second, smaller hall.

  Mineva led them upstairs to the second level, a courtyard with a statue in the center. Alydian blinked in surprise at the vivid figure, a rock troll armed with gauntlets of spiked chains. The depiction was feral and visceral, and even though it was stone she felt a spark of fear. Then they ascended beyond it to reach the upper levels of the keep.

  As they passed higher into the keep Mineva gestured to the corridor. “These are the apprentice halls, where masters provide private instruction. Apprentices that show promise are granted the honor of living here.” She pointed to the doors on the left, the rooms that would overlook the city.

  The group ascended to the journeyman levels, that were built much like the apprentice chambers. Passing them, they reached the master level of the keep, and Mineva made her way to one of the rooms on the left. A pair of guards stood at either end of the hall, and they nodded when Mineva strode by. Entering her quarters, Mineva gestured to the chairs in the spacious receiving hall.

  “Have a seat,” she said. “I’ll send for a meal.”

  She cast a bird and it soared out the window, banking through the waterfall before disappearing. Alydian stepped to the balcony and looked at the city. From her vantage point the city veritably glowed, a bright jewel hidden in the mountains.

  Although Mineva’s words and actions were kind, her tone and expression were not. Her calculating gaze swept across them and flicked to Alydian. She was alone in the room with her visitors, but the door remained open, and the guards were just outside.

  Devkin and Raiden stayed close to the door, while Grogith drifted to a position behind Mineva. Alydian ambled to the side, preparing herself for what was to come. Jester took up position on the opposite side of her. None took a seat.

  Mineva noticed the ring around her and frowned. “Captain Devkin,” she asked, her posture tightening. “What is your intent?”

  “To find the truth,” Devkin said, and nodded to Grogith.

  The gnome caught Mineva’s arms, yanking them behind her. Threads of anti-magic swirled from his fingers and wrapped around the woman’s wrists, binding her in place. Startled, she just had time to shout before Alydian’s muffling curse cut her off.

  The sound drew the guards, but before they reached the door Raiden and Devkin leapt out. They struck hard and fast, overwhelming the surprised guards. Mineva screamed but no sound escaped her lips, and she fought her bonds until Jester put a sword on her chest.

  “I don’t like to harm beautiful women,” he said with an easy smile, “but I won’t hesitate to kill a snake.”

  The scuffle outside the room ended and Raiden dragged an unconscious form into the room. Devkin did the same, and soon all four guards were inside Mineva’s receiving room. Alydian breathed a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut.

  “No blood in the hall,” Devkin said. “But we don’t have a lot of time.”

  Alydian nodded. “Give me a moment and I will find you the best route to the dungeons.”

  “Wait,” Raiden said. “There are things you must hear.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Devkin asked. “A servant is going to bring food in a few minutes an
d we need to be done.”

  “No,” Jester said. “Trust us.”

  Alydian gestured an invitation. “What do you know?”

  “We found the Black Shroud camp,” Raiden said. “Teriah and Elsin were there, together.”

  Alydian clenched a fist. “So she is the rogue mage on the council?” She’d expected as much, but to hear it confirmed elicited a wave of anger. The woman had abandoned her oaths and the Eldress Council, and she wondered how her mother would punish such a betrayal.

  Raiden was nodding. “They spoke of the Accord and the Mage Empire. They were going to strike in a few weeks’ time.” He briefly described the fight with the water guardian, Tidal, and the revelations they had heard.

  “All the more reason we need to act quickly,” Devkin said.

  “One more thing,” Raiden said. “They spoke of poisoning Elenyr.”

  Alydian blinked in surprise and turned to Mineva. “Is that true?”

  The woman sneered at her and looked away, all but confirming it. Alydian took a step toward her, rage pouring into her fist. Devkin saw her intention and caught her arm, speaking in a low tone.

  “After. We must retrieve what we came for.”

  Alydian stared at the woman, seething. She’d witnessed her mother’s decline in health and felt helpless, but resigned herself to the way of life. The other oracles had sought to heal her, with even Teriah expressing her deepest sympathies that the ailment was incurable.

  “Alethean . . .” Raiden said, his voice urgent.

  “I am well,” she said aloud, and mentally added, or I will be when I have Teriah.

  She fought to control her rage and closed her eyes. It took three tries until she managed to find Raiden’s tree. Over the last few weeks it had become progressively brighter, with many of the branches vivid and easy to identify.

  She followed the next several minutes and watched him scour the lower levels of the keep. Many of the paths ended in discovery and combat, so she followed the ones that didn’t. The seconds slipped away and her tension mounted. Then she spotted Raiden arriving at the prison and finding Red.

  “Below the keep,” she said, opening her eyes. Speaking quickly, she detailed how he could find Red and get her out, even warning him about the prison door. While she’d been looking into his future, Raiden and Jester had donned a pair of guard uniforms and stepped to the door.

  “Be safe,” she said.

  “You as well,” Raiden said, his eyes flicking to the still struggling Mineva.

  He hesitated, and it seemed like he wanted to say more. Then his mouth shut and he departed, leaving the three of them alone with Mineva. Alydian turned and regarded the woman. As a master of Verinai she was gifted and powerful, but now her face was flushed and her jaw worked.

  “Hold her,” Alydian said as she walked toward her. “Extracting a memory is difficult enough without a defiant host . . .”

  Chapter 40: The Shadowmage

  Raiden and Jester stepped out the door and turned down the hallway, making their way to the stairs at the end of the hall. In the uniform of Verinai guards, they kept their pace natural and unhurried, and the guards on the stairs ignored them.

  It was only a matter of time before someone discovered the guards’ absence, or a servant arrived with the requested meal, and Raiden wanted to be gone before either occurred. When the Verinai realized their vaunted defenses had been breached they would be furious, and they would tear the intruders to pieces.

  Descending the stairs, Raiden followed Alydian’s path and tried to look like he belonged. Fortunately, it appeared the Verinai relied greatly on the outer fortifications of the city, and sentries were infrequent.

  The rooms of the upper keep were evidently reserved for the highest masters in the guild. Much like Mineva’s quarters, the rooms were placed at the front of the keep overlooking the city, while the opposite side of the corridor contained training halls. The aquaglass doors allowed Raiden to see the interior and served to muffle the explosion of miscast charms.

  Through one such door Raiden spotted a master dueling with an apprentice, the young dwarf struggling to cast a fire shield. But the master’s banshee curse ripped the shield apart and sent the dwarf tumbling away. The subsequent scolding was inaudible through the door.

  Leaving the master levels behind, they dropped to the journeyman levels, passing the senior officer quarters before reaching the base of the keep. Raiden strode past the rock troll statue and turned down the stairs to the subterranean levels of the city.

  While the surface of Verisith was filled with wonder and magic, the underground corridors were stark and barren. Walls were smooth, undecorated stone with light orbs placed against the ceiling.

  Instead of storage rooms, the chambers on either side contained gardens. Lit by powerful sun-like light orbs at the center, the gardens grew every form of vegetable and fruit. Raiden paused at one, shocked to see a small storm brewing at the ceiling, the clouds just beginning to dump rain on the interior farm.

  Jester made a disparaging sound in his throat. “What would our world be like if power was shared instead of hoarded?”

  Raiden motioned to the storm. “When that day comes, I suspect the want of food will be eradicated.”

  A door shut behind them and they continued on, passing beyond the growing rooms to the dwarven ascender that took them down another level. They stepped off to find themselves in a small room facing a large, aquaglass door. Beyond it stood a pair of Verinai battlemages.

  “Runeguard dispatched by Oracle Alydian have arrived to interrogate the prisoner,” Raiden said, stepping forward and withdrawing a scrap of parchment from his side. “We are here to retrieve the criminal known as Red.”

  “We did not hear of your arrival,” one said, bored. “We’ll have to request a master’s approval.”

  Jester shrugged—and then darted forward, drawing his sword and plunging it through the aquaglass barrier. As he cut a large hole the liquid hissed and dripped to the floor, burning holes into the stone. Raiden dived through the acidic barrier and rolled to his feet as the two Verinai recovered from their surprise.

  Raiden struck one in the jaw, knocking him into the wall. The other was evidently a body mage and darted out of reach before Raiden could close the gap. Raiden withdrew his crossbow and fired, but the man spun away, sneering as he did.

  “You are no Verinai—”

  Jester’s whip wrapped around his neck and yanked him to the floor, where Jester finished him. Raiden leaned down and smashed his fist into the first guard’s cheek. He’d been fighting to rise, but the blow sent him to the ground for good. Raiden bent down and wrapped a black chord around his wrists while Jester stabbed a finger at the gaping hole in the door.

  “Why can’t the Verinai do anything normal?” he asked, exasperated.

  “It’s an acid door,” Raiden said. “If anyone tried to breach it they would die horribly.”

  “We can’t close it,” Jester said. “The first guard ambles his way down here, the entire city will descend upon us. As much as I like attention, I don’t care for that much.”

  Raiden slapped the guard several times until he roused. The man blinked and then his eyes focused on Raiden. He jerked, fire coursing on his arms only to be drawn away by the anti-magic bindings.

  “How often do guards come down here?” Raiden asked.

  “Every ten minutes,” the man said, jutting his chin out. “You’ll be killed before you can—”

  Raiden’s blow rocked his head back. “I don’t care for lies,” he said. “I can kill you right now, or you can tell your superiors that we knocked you out. It’s your choice.”

  The man’s eyes fell on his dead companion. “You’ll kill me anyway.”

  “Certain death or possible death,” Jester said with a smile. “Which do you prefer?”

  The man glared at him so Raiden sighed and drew his sword, placing it on the man’s heart.

  “Wait!” he cried. “The shift won’t c
hange for another two hours.”

  “How many guards are in the dungeons?” Jester asked, drifting closer.

  “Two,” he said.

  Raiden smashed him in the face, harder than before. “I told you, no lies.”

  “All right!” he growled, wiping his bloodied lip on his shoulder. “Four.”

  “Apprentice or journeyman?” Jester asked.

  “Guards are always journeyman,” the man said, and then his eyes narrowed. “Something you would know if you were Verinai.”

  “Which we aren’t,” Jester said, knocking him out with a blow to the skull.

  Raiden let the unconscious man slump to the ground and then turned down the corridor. Drawing his sword, he advanced to where the corridor split in both directions. He peeked down the left corridor while Jester did the same on the right.

  Shaped like a large T, the prison contained cells along the back hall. The corridors stretched away for a short distance and contained a quartet of doors on either side, with one on the end. Two guards were in view, both standing at the end, talking. Raiden withdrew his head before he could be spotted and looked to Jester.

  “Two guards,” Jester said, “Short corridor, four cells on either side, one on the end.”

  “Same,” Raiden said. “Take them down, fast and quiet. Then we find Red.”

  They nodded, and in unison turned the corner. Raiden kept his sword behind his back and walked casually until they noticed him. When they did, the shorter one frowned.

  “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

  Raiden gestured vaguely toward the ceiling. “The guildmaster wants to speak with you, something about your request for mastership.”

  It was a gamble, but a good one. Journeymen in every guild fought for their mastership, the highest rank one could achieve short of becoming guildmaster. The man was human and the colors on his left shoulder indicated he had three talents.

  But Raiden was wrong.

  The man shook his head, his eyes turning suspicious. “I haven’t sought for mastership yet.”

  Raiden shrugged. “Nevertheless, your presence has been requested.”