by CM Raymond
Hadley kicked back a shot and took a drink to follow. He was still smiling, though his skin was starting to look a little green. His mystic pallet was such that he couldn’t keep up with the girl from Queen’s Boulevard or the hard-working rearick. But he was giving it his best shot. “Way I understand it, there’s not that much of a difference between Arcadia and the Heights.”
“What does that mean?” Hannah asked.
“Well, and my friend Karl can correct me if I’m wrong,” he said while he patted the old soldier on the back, “but this here little town used to be independent. It was run by the rearick, for the rearick. But once you Arcadians came up with your damn magitech, they realized they were going to have to increase production. But the rearick are shrewd businessmen. They don’t sell their amphoralds cheap. Now—” Hadley looked around as if someone was listening in on his drunken conspiracy “—now, how long do you think it’s gonna be before Adrien gets sick of paying for those amphoralds? You ask me, he’s working to take this place over. He’s paying now, but he’ll take it all back with his magitech army.”
Karl was slumping in his chair, the more he drank, the lower he got. “You ain’t wrong, mystic. Damn Arcadian’s moved in and took over—at least in spirit. Now, we have this mess on our hands, and poor Mortimer probably will never walk again. But it could’ve been worse. If it weren’t for you two, a mystic and some sort of freak magician, all of them would probably be lost.”
He raised his glass in the direction of Hadley and Hannah and then tilted back, getting to the bottom faster than you could say rearick. “The company men will come up with some sorta shit reason why the mine collapsed. They’ll blame it on us probably. Maybe they’ll say it was a structural issue with our supports, but we all know better. I just talked to the bastard in the office a few days back. He knew the dangers. Yeah, they’ll come up with some official reason why the accident happened. But I’ll tell you the real reason. Greed. Good old-fashioned greed.” Finished with his rant, the short, stout man got off his stool, wavered and almost fell. “Looks like it’s time for me to get going. Or else I’ll end up sleeping on the bar again. Thank you again, you two. The rearick owe you something. And rearick don’t forget their debts.”
Karl slapped them both on the back and headed out the door.
Hadley and Hannah left soon after Karl and started the long trek up the stairs to the monastery. She was exhausted, but it was a good kind of exhausted. The kind that told you something about yourself. For the first time, she truly realized that the magic that she had within her came with responsibility. It could be used to make a real difference in the world. Helping to save the rearick from the accident proved that her gift was important, and that Ezekiel had chosen her for reason.
They continued up the path without speaking. She could tell that Hadley was also in a pensive mood, as mystics often were. She was happy for it. After a long day, she soaked in the silence and the beauty of the place around her.
She was beginning to see why the mystics stayed up here. It was peaceful, in a way that the lowlands would never know.
As they crested the last run of steps leading to the monastery, Hannah’s thoughts were focused on nothing more than a bath and her bed. But instead, they were greeted by a blinding flash and a crack of lightning. When the smoke cleared, Ezekiel stood before them, his white beard flapping in the wind.
She looked him up and down. “Shit. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, Ezekiel,” Hannah told him.
The man nodded. “Good to see you, too, young lady.”
“You missed the excitement,” Hadley said. “You’d be proud of your student. She pretty much single-handedly saved dozens today at the mine.”
Ezekiel smiled. “Glad to see some of what I taught you sunk into that thick head of yours. But now is not a time for slapping ourselves on our backs. Go pack your things. Your vacation here in the Heights is over, and we have to go.”
“Vacation?” Hannah asked, a slight bitterness in her voice. “I’ve been working my ass off up here. Where the hell are we going now? What’s so damn important?
Ezekiel’s smile faded, and a grave tone replaced his humor. “It’s Arcadia, Hannah. She needs us. Your training is over. Now comes the real test.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The morning fog rose from the valley, almost reaching her position in the Heights. Hannah felt a certain weight rush over her, the weight of leaving a place that had become a point of solace in her dark and dreary existence.
The previous months had been both a whirlwind and a dream.
Since she had been recruited by Ezekiel into the mentorship of magic, nothing had been the same. Perhaps it was the novelty of transition, or maybe it was the deadening of her emotions, but she realized that morning that she hadn’t thought of her brother William much at all over the past few weeks. His body was buried, and months cold. And as she looked out over the valley, she realized that his vengeance awaited.
“Ready?” Ezekiel asked.
She nodded. Despite Ezekiel’s desire to leave as soon as possible, they ended up delaying by almost a week. Hannah needed time to recover from her ordeals in the mine, and Ezekiel seemed tired as well from whatever quest he had just returned from. But good food, good drink, and the clear mountain air had them both back to full power in little time.
It was time to put that power to good use.
Looking down, she found Sal, her Dragon, crouched by her side. She hadn’t tried to alter him with her magic since the wings were grown, but nevertheless, he just kept growing. Since her time in the Heights, he had grown at least six inches at the shoulder—they now rose as high as her waist. Months earlier, Ezekiel had called Sal a dragon. It was laughable at the time. But now, looking at him there with wings unfurled, Hannah almost believed it were true.
Hadley grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her into a hug. She hadn’t known the mystic long, but she had become very close to the man who had taught her the mystical arts. He had shown her much, and Hannah believed that with the foundation in place, she might be able to continue learning and understanding mental magic on her own with the help of Ezekiel.
He put his mouth to her ear and whispered warm words of encouragement. “You are more powerful than you know. Remember that. Also, remember that you have a friend forever in the Heights. I will see you soon.” He pulled her into a hug and squeezed, and Hannah melted into his body. Although eager to get back to Arcadia, back to the place that needed her and Ezekiel so badly, there in Hadley’s arms, part of her wanted to stay forever.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Pervert.” She said it with a smile, and he nodded, turned, and went back to the monastery.
Hannah watched him walk away and wondered if she would ever see him again.
Ezekiel grabbed her by the bicep, and she reached down and grabbed her dragon’s wing. “We won’t go all the way,” he said. “We’re going to need all your strength by the time we get to our city. Not that I could jump us all the way there anyways—that guy’s grown a lot.” He nodded at Sal with a grin. “But with our power combined, I believe I can get us within a day’s walk. If the tower’s open, we can stay there. Granted, it’s probably covered with Adrien’s men—not that they’ll find anything of use. If that’s the case, we can always spend the night under the stars.”
“I love camping.” Hannah winked at Ezekiel. “If by camping you mean passed out in the grass after too much of the mystics’ elixir.”
Ezekiel laughed a full laugh, his eyes sparkling. “Well, if our quest kills us, at least you had the chance to taste the mystics’ brew. It’s more than what most people in Irth can say.”
And without as much as another word, they disappeared into a cloud of smoke and a crash of thunder. They left the ground shaking in their wake and more than one Mystic smiled at the theatrics of Ezekiel’s leaving.
****
Hannah gasped as if coming up for breath as they reappeared on a narrow winding path somewhe
re in the lowlands. Dust swept around them, and the sound of their reentry faded across the empty fields on either side. She craned her head behind her as if she might be able to see the Heights looming. But they were too far off. They were in her past and far behind.
“We walk from here,” Ezekiel said.
The first few hours of the trek were stepped out in silence. Ezekiel led, Hannah followed, and Sal lumbered on behind her. Every little while she looked back at the creature whose head darted back and forth. She knew that he was keeping an eye out. He was their watchdog, and she was glad to have him with her.
Although, more than once he’d break from his post to chase down a rabbit or squirrel along the road. Hannah smiled at the dragon once he looked up, and he whipped out his tongue in reply.
Finally, tired of the silence, Hannah asked, “So, what the hell’s the plan, Zeke?”
“The plan is the plan,” Ezekiel said, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead of them.
“You really are a son of a bitch, aren’t you?” she said. She had forgotten how infuriating he could be sometimes.
He pursed his lips, in thought. “Most of the time I am,” he finally replied. “But right now, I’m being completely honest. I have a framework in mind, but it is far from clear. The most important thing I know is that you and I are powerful. If we had time to train you properly, we’d be two of the most powerful magicians in the land. But even with our gifts, two of us trying to take on the forces that Adrien has within the walls of Arcadia would be a suicide mission. If we are to defeat my former student, we’re going to need to find some allies.”
Hannah scrunched her face up, confused.
They had left Hadley, a powerful mystic, and Karl, a strong and brave rearick, behind in the heights. They seemed as good of allies as any. In fact, there were many, maybe even hundreds, in the Heights that would be willing to fight with them—to fight for the heart of Arcadia.
But now, they’re wandering a narrow path in the middle of nowhere, and Ezekiel was still talking about trying to find allies. She was becoming more and more convinced that the man was crazy after all—either that, or he had a death wish.
As if he knew exactly what she was thinking—and maybe he did—Ezekiel responded. “If we come at Adrien from without, like an invading army, that will confirm the fear mongering that Adrien has preached all along. And then Arcadia itself will be our enemy. Arcadia’s walls are high and strong. I designed them myself. The city was made for resistance warfare. To be on the defense. Instead of striking from without, I believe the wisest course is to try and find the weakness from within. Convince the people to join us. Then we’ll be invincible. Now, while it is tempting to take the aggressive route, I’d prefer that we first try and view ourselves as liberators.”
“Liberators?” Hannah asked, then kicked a small rock towards Sal. It hit his side, and he eyed Hannah, who was busy looking elsewhere.
“Yes, Arcadia has become corrupt. I will not argue that,” Ezekiel answered. “But there is still good within the walls. You are one of them, as was Parker, and your brother, and a hundred more that you’d be able to recommend just by yourself. They only need to be shown a better way, a reawakening. Did you believe that you and your friends were the only good souls left in the city of Arcadia?”
“No,” she said. “We were just weak.”
Ezekiel laughed. “You weren’t weak. You were unorganized, fractured by the very structures and systems that Adrien had put in place. His brilliance is unmatched, and the plan that he had crafted a decade before you were born worked perfectly. Even your comment about the weakness of the boulevard confirms that you are still under his control.”
Hannah opened her mouth to respond, then let it close. They walked in silence for a while as Hannah chewed on his words. She wanted to believe that he was right, that the people of Arcadia were strong and brave and true—capable of making the world better.
But she had doubt. If it were such, how could they really be held under the thumb of a tyrant for so long?
“And if your plan fails?” she finally asked.
Ezekiel looked over his shoulder. “Then we try again—your way. We come in as conquerors with flames, and ice, and swords and the rage of the Matriarch.”
Hannah smiled. She pictured the woman painted on the ceiling at the mystic’s temple. She was a warrior. Fighting like her, that was an image Hannah liked.
As they continued their march, Hannah asked him more questions about where he had been during his time away from the monastery. But Ezekiel talked in circles, and eventually, the girl knew questioning him was like trying to get water out of a stone. Finally, she fell into a quiet stride behind him, looking back from time to time to check on her dragon, who was happy as any creature she’d ever seen.
As they reached the top of a rise, Ezekiel froze. Hannah nearly ran into his back.
“Shh!” he whispered as she opened her mouth to complain. He hit the grass and pulled Hannah down beside him. They crawled together to the top of the rise and peered over, but the sounds reached her first. The sound of steel on steel and the screams of warfare let her know exactly what she would see down there.
Death and destruction.
****
Parker kept his head down, appearing to the world as if he were dead. The sound of steel scraping steel was the only thing that accompanied the screams of the men in the background. Parker couldn’t tell if the screaming was coming from the floor or someplace further off, but either way, it was a place he didn’t want to go.
His hands dripped blood on the floor between his feet, but the small cuts in his fingers stopped stinging days before—or at least he had become numb to the pain. His job was twisting wires the size of his pinky together and then clamping them down with a wooden clip. He had no idea what his work was for, what it meant, or what it even amounted to. But he was promised that a steady paycheck was being passed along to his mother as long as he complied.
But he hadn’t seen her since the day before he started at the factory—and his gut told him the pay was a lie.
Working beside him was Jack, the man that not long before had a government job of working the toll leading into Queen’s Boulevard. Parker and Hannah had given him half their wages for years as they entered their quarter. It was a shit system, but that didn’t stop them from liking Jack. While many of the toll workers were cruel, leveraging their power over the citizens of the Boulevard, Jack was different. It was as if he knew their plight. Although he did his job and did it with integrity, he wouldn’t lord his position over anyone. Most days, when Parker and Hannah dropped their coins into his box, Jack was kind to them. Parker could only imagine that it was this kindness that had gotten Jack taken off the toll and thrown into this hellhole of a factory.
“What is all of this?” Parker asked not taking his eyes off his work.
Jack shook his head. They all knew that they weren’t supposed to talk. And every one of them had witnessed the guards walking the floor with their magitech staffs, shooting anyone who wasn’t working hard enough with a jolt of magic. Their means of enforcement were effective, and Jack kept his mouth shut. He had been here since before Parker arrived, and Parker hoped he had some more information.
“It’s okay, there’s no one near. Tell me what we’re working on,” Parker insisted again.
Jack glanced up from his own work. His eyes darted back and forth. He looked back down, and whispered his reply. “Not sure exactly. Sometimes they call it the machine. Sometimes they called it the weapon. Back when I was working the toll, I had a friend who worked here, not on the floor, but in one of the offices. Always tried to get him to drink too much, tell us what was going on down here. But he was usually tight-lipped about it. You don’t want to lose a job like his.”
“But…?” Parker pushed.