Blodwyn set the staff between his legs, and held it with both hands. He pressed his chin against the wood. “If you don’t mind my saying,” he said, and without waiting for permission continued, “you know a lot about the trials of this young wizard. I understand how history is passed from generation to generation, and done so with compelling accuracy. Still, the amount of detail you’re sharing is profound.”
Mykal shared similar thoughts, but had been less inclined to speak them aloud.
Galatia never made eye contact with Blodwyn. “King Grandeer wanted me dead. Tortured first, then killed slowly. But, he was afraid that if he spent too much time making me suffer I’d use magic to free myself, and curse his kingdom. He didn’t want to listen to anything I said. He was beyond distraught. The death of his son snapped the already-frayed remnants of his sanity. This was compounded by the physical toll long days and nights sleepless with worry for his family. No matter what I said, all he desired was my torment and eventual death.”
“How did you escape?” It was Grandfather who spoke. His palms flat on the table, his knuckles white. “If the king wanted you dead, and he had you in the dungeons, you must have used some powerful magic to escape.”
Mykal thought Grandfather’s tone was accusatory. The law made the use, and even the study of magic, illegal. Although, this was prior to the laws against sorcery had been set in place. Grandfather followed the letter of the law, whether he agreed or not. He always said it wasn’t his place to question decisions made by his king. It was the difference between being a loyal subject, and a rebel.
Though Mykal knew that Grandfather had suffered loss, he somehow held it together and pushed forward, never looking back or dwelling on past travesties.
Mykal had never known his grandmother. She’d died before his birth. He knew from stories that she’d been a strong, fearless woman. A cut on her leg left unattended became infected. A red line traced its way up her thigh, across her belly, and stopped at her heart. Grandfather didn’t know about the infection until it was too late.
“I didn’t use magic to escape the dungeons,” Galatia said.
Mykal watched as she stopped by the counter where the bucket for cleaning dirty dishes sat. She stood with her back to everyone. Her hands gripped the counter while she looked through the window.
The window faced the east. Through the glass was the corral where the horses were kept. To the side was the biggest of three barns. On the right were two smaller barns, and a chicken coop. The pastures stretched further back, behind the corral and barns. The sun rising in the east let rays play over the farm. The view always calmed Mykal.
Mykal thought magic was the sun revolving around the old empire. He often wondered if the sun lost some of its power passing under the known lands, and regained whatever had been lost as it climbed up and across the sky before dropping again in the west. “If you didn’t use magic. . .” Mykal said.
“I lied,” Galatia said. “It’s not something I’m proud of having done. I told him I now knew what was wrong. I was sorry about his son, but was confident I could save the queen. I couldn’t, of course. He didn’t know that. Like I’ve said all along, he was not a rational man. He was broken. There were so many shattered pieces, I knew he’d never mend. I played him, used his emotions and his lack of reason against him. He was desperate to latch onto any scrap of hope. There were no other options available to him, not any longer. It pained me to use his love for the queen against him, but what other choice did I have? Lying was the only avenue left open to me. That, and it was better than the alternative.”
“The alternative?” Blodwyn said.
“Using magic, of course.”
Karyn shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
Galatia turned around and leaned her backside against the counter, tears in her eyes. This two-hundred-year-old story hadn’t gotten any easier for her to relate, if she’d ever done so before. There was a saying: time heals all wounds. Seeing her tears, Mykal had little confidence in the old adage. It didn’t seem true at all – certainly not in this instance. Two hundred years had passed, after all.
“In Grey Ashland there were dozens of magicians—those who practice a specific, learned skill, always trying to perfect it, but no more than a dozen full wizards, or thereabouts,” Galatia said. “It is rare, but true wizards are born. They are almost always the result of a union in which at least one parent is a true wizard. I say almost, because more often than not children born within such a union, the child was powerless when it came to sorcery. Although uncommon, once in a while it does happen.”
“Am I a magician?” Karyn said.
“I’m not sure what you are yet, dear,” Galatia said. “You seem an oddity. I don’t mean that as an insult. You don’t practice seeing. It just comes to you. It makes me believe you are not a magician. You are not a wizard; that I know with certainty. Only three wizards have been born the last thirty and seven years, at least here in the old empire.”
“I don’t understand how you can be the age you state and yet, appear so youthful still? If I am a wizard like you claim, will I age?” Mykal looked at the backs of his hands, as if seeking the answer on sun-tanned skin.
Galatia smiled. “We are not immortal. Time catches up with us, eventually. You will begin to notice the difference when you cross into your twenties. Others will look, feel, and age normally. The clock inside you will seemed to have stopped. You will age. It simply will not happen as quickly.”
“You don’t know how many wizards there were?” Blodwyn arched an eyebrow, as if seriously doubting the vague figure.
“There were twelve,” Galatia said. “Including me. Just twelve.”
“But you said you came to Grey Ashland,” Karyn said.
“There may be more in other lands, beyond Rye’s Empire, in fact there has to be. There could be hundreds. I didn’t know anyone beyond. There were only twelve across this empire, when there had been an empire,” she said. “When king Grandeer’s son died, and the king wanted me put to death, I realized what damage I had done. I was afraid, but when I say that, I don’t mean just for my own safety. I knew that I’d brought the king’s wrath down on all wizards.”
“Were you able to save the queen?” Mykal said.
“She never tried,” Blodwyn said, getting to his feet. He tapped his finger against his chin, thinking something through. “Once the king accepted the claim she could save the queen, he told the dungeon guards to bring her back up to his bedchamber.”
“I escaped their clutches. It hadn’t been easy. The king was looking for me. He had knights at the gates, and patrolling the kingdom. I used an enchantment to cloak my appearance. It was a powerful spell because it affected anyone who looked on me. Weak from casting such a spell, I managed to sneak out of the keep and made my way back to the cove where my ship was docked. The king launched his crusade against all magicians and wizards immediately after the queen’s passing. There were no trials. Known magicians were executed on sight. Terror ensnared the entire empire. Anyone accused of magic was murdered. People grew paranoid. It became an easy way for some to settle disputes or eliminate rivals. They simply needed to point a finger. Hundreds perished during the crusade. Innocent people.” Galatia made no attempt to hide her tears. They streamed down her face; dripped from the sides of her chin. “I cursed the wizards in my pride. Never had I imagined the devastation that I, and I alone, brought down on the empire.”
Galatian ran the back of her hand under nose, and sniffled.
Mykal found a clean cloth and offered it.
Karyn said, “Did the king’s crusade have something to do with the collapse of Henry Rye?”
Mykal recognized the emperor’s name. He knew little about him, though. It had been almost two centuries since the lands were united under the emperor.
“It did. And it is also why I am here, why I’ve now returned,” Galatia said. “I have spent far too long talking. We need to start moving, Mykal. It is important that
you come with me.”
Blodwyn shook his head. “You have spent a lot of time talking. The history lesson has been fascinating, simply fascinating. What you have failed to do, Ms. Galatia, is provide a single answer to any of our pressing questions.”
Galatia glared at Mykal’s teacher. “I’ve been open and honest. I have shared with you a story that I’ve only shared with the other wizards.”
“Where are they now?” Blodwyn asked. “The other wizards?”
“Dead. All but three, as I have related,” she said.
“And the ones that are not dead?” Blodwyn sighed. “We get it. You’re uncomfortable disclosing too many facts. Or are unable to reveal the whole truth. But if every question asked is answered with misleading, or incomplete, or plain mysterious answers, we’re done. We are not here to play games. It is you who came to us for help. Not the other way around.”
“I came to him for help.” Galatia pointed at Mykal.
Blodwyn threw his hands in the air.
Galatia ignored the theatrics. “Mykal, please pack some things. You don’t want to see bad things happen to Grey Ashland. How will you be able to live with yourself knowing you could have done something to save so many innocent lives, but chose to do nothing instead? If you do not help me, destruction is all you will be able to count on. You’re a good man, Mykal. I know this. I need you to do the right thing.”
“Ridiculous!” Blodwyn jumped to his feet and pounded the base of his staff on the cabin’s planks. It made a sharp crack like the lash of whip snapping in air. “This family has been kind to you, stranger. They’ve brought you into their home for days, fed you, clothed you, and you insult them with guilt? Nothing you’ve said has been proven. You provide nothing specific other than the need to venture out on some mysterious journey to save the world. Mykal has family, and responsibility here. This is his home.”
Galatia’s left arm shot out toward Blodwyn. He flew backwards and smashed into the wall. Plaster cracked, and crumbled from the impact. He collapsed to the floor.
Chapter 12
“What have you done?” Mykal dropped to his knees beside Blodwyn. It was so surreal seeing magic used. He never expected Galatia to go crazy. Somehow she’d thrown Blodwyn into the wall while standing across the room from him, the table between them, and without ever laying a finger on him. Mykal pushed hair out of Blodwyn’s face and lowered his head, putting his ear to Blodwyn’s mouth and listened for breathing. “He’s alive.”
Galatia stood like a statue. “Of course he’s alive.”
Blodwyn groaned.
“He left me no choice. He wanted proof I’m a wizard. There is his proof,” she said with anger. She cupped her hands together. A ball of blue flames roiled in her palms. “Do you require more?”
“She is a wizard,” Karyn said. The declaration obvious, and therefore not necessarily helpful.
Mykal might have harbored doubts. Those were now crushed. “Leave him alone. He was just looking out for me. He spoke truly. You haven’t told us anything. We don’t know why you’re here. We don’t know where you want to lead me. You keep spewing off about the possibilities of countless deaths and immeasurable destruction to Grey Ashland, but you continually fail to explain the ‘whos’, the ‘whys’ and the ‘hows’.”
“I don’t have all of those answers!”
“Tell us what you do have. Tell us what you know,” Mykal said. He sat in front of Blodwyn, protecting him from any further magical attacks. She wasn’t alone in her anger. His grew like fire on wood, its heat rising to his head. He could feel how flushed his face had become.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do. You can’t understand what’s coming, if you don’t understand what’s happened.”
“So you do know what’s coming then?”
“I have an idea. I’m doing my best to explain,” she said.
“You’re not succeeding,” he said, speaking softly. Losing his temper wasn’t helping the situation. It did nothing for Blodwyn. Galatia had proven how dangerous she could be. He needed the tension diffused. He would speak his own truth calmly. “I don’t want to go with you. In fact, I want you to leave.”
“Mykal,” Karyn warned.
“Perhaps you should go, too. The king will come looking for you. There’s enough trouble inside my grandfather’s house to get all of us hung,” he said.
Karyn plead, “But, Mykal—”
“Go. Both of you. Please, just leave.”
Grandfather sat silent, as if unsure what to do next, and unsure if there were anything he could do. Karyn possessed magic, and Galatia demonstrated power only a wizard could control. He was old and confined to a chair with wheels. Mykal felt miserable, knowing that there had been a time when nothing would have given his grandfather pause. Age, however, weathered away more than bone, and youth. It also took its toll of courage, and for that matter, pride. “I want you out of my grandfather’s house, and I will not ask again!”
Karyn pushed her chair back from the table, the legs scraping across the floor. She stood and used her hands to smooth the front of her nightgown.
Mykal dropped his eyes. He pretended to be concentrating on Blodwyn’s well-being. He couldn’t look either woman in the eye. Hospitality had been instilled in him by his grandfather since he’d been a child. They didn’t receive many visitors. Throwing people out of their home went against everything grandfather taught him.
Grandfather wasn’t agreeing with Mykal, he did not speak at all, but most of all he didn’t object. You backed family. Right or wrong, if you are able to count on only one person to take your side, it should unquestionably be someone with whom you share blood.
Blodwyn wasn’t dead. Galatia hadn’t killed him. He had no idea what he’d witnessed. How could he kick out the only person who might be able to explain everything, even if she might also be the cause of it all?
“Wait. Just wait,” Mykal said, changing his mind. He held up both hands. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll meet you outside.”
***
“Is he alright?” Karyn sat next to Galatia on the porch bench.
Mykal said, “Yes, he’s awake. I moved him to my bed. He’s lying down.”
“I’m sorry I had to do that,” Galatia said.
“You didn’t have to hurt him to make your point. You could have just done that blue fireball thing. It alone convinced me.” Mykal’s anger was focused on her. This wizard had disrupted the peace and solitude of life as he’d always known it. He liked things the way they were. He didn’t mind taking care of the animals, and spending long days repairing the wood fence around the property. Nothing good could come from her appearance.
“I’m sorry, too,” Karyn said.
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she said.
“Any other day, if I brought someone like you into the house, there would have been non-stop questions.”
“Someone like me? What is that supposed to mean?” she said.
“You’re the king’s ward, a princess. You slipped away from the keep and came here. It won’t be long before your absence is noticed. The king is going to send at least a platoon in search of you. We both know that’s true. The only reason I brought you inside was because I suspected something fishy was taking place.”
“Fishy?” she said.
“Between the two of you. A con. A gimmick. I couldn’t figure out what, but knew something wasn’t right,” he said. “Your being at my house is not being discussed because, as weird as it is having you in our home, your visit is overshadowed by Galatia the wizard from who knows where. This is crazy. All of it is nuts.”
“What you’re feeling, that sense of unease, Mykal, is part of what I’ve been trying to explain,” Galatia said, standing.
He held up a hand. “Please. Just sit back down.”
“We need to go.” Galatia said. “We may have days. If we’re lucky, weeks. Even if we have months, it will not be enough time to fully prepare.”
“Stop. Just stop it. I have no clue what you’re talking about. I don’t want you flinging me off the porch to make a point. So, do me a favor and stop.” She sat down. Mykal faced her. “I want know what happened to the other wizards? I mean, where have you been for two centuries?”
“I can answer those questions.”
“No. I want answers. Real answers. The stories, they’re great. It’s like Blodwyn was trying to say before you zapped him, though. You haven’t really told us a thing.”
“I’ll give you all of the answers.”
“I want to know exactly what it is you think I’m capable of doing? What proof do you have that I’m like you; that I’m a wizard?” Mykal asked. He wanted to shout, and express his anger. Galatia simply sat next to Karyn, and had agreed to answer all of his questions, so he took a deep breath and did his best to relax.
Resolved, he said, “Before you do so, I’m going back inside to check on Wyn. When I come back out, be ready. Because I’m not going to stop asking questions until I believe that you’ve been completely upfront and honest with me. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Okay, good.” He stared at them for a moment, knowing other than his size, he didn’t intimidate them. There wasn’t a threatening bone in his body. He went back into the house, and shut the door.
Thoughts flooded his mind. He couldn’t begin to sort them out. There was no reason to trust Galatia, or Karyn. They had both recently appeared in his life, and they both expected him to accept some fantastical truth. None of it made sense. The only reason he’d not dismissed them and their notions was because Blodwyn hadn’t dismissed them, and although Grandfather was frightened, he wasn’t the one who asked everyone to leave.
Severed Empire: Wizard's Rise Page 9