This Dark Mirror

by Tricia Owens

  The look Jessyd gave him was so pitying—as if Hadrian were intolerably stupid and nothing could be done for it—that Hadrian instinctively withered, old insecurities rising up. His father used to look at him in much the same way, and it worried Hadrian how quickly and easily he could be dragged back to that headspace.

  Flustered, he tried, "They’re powerful mages and their influence—"

  "Has dwindled to nearly nothing," Jessyd cut in, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Hadrian, what barrel have you been living in? Twenty-odd years ago Gavedon thought them a useless lot and set out to carve his own path. He wasn’t afraid of their wrath then, as a single man defying the Council, so why, by the gods, should I fear them now when I’ve got Gavedon and the entire Order behind me? Your lauded Council is nothing but wizened politicians who’ve not yet realized their usefulness has long since passed. Magecraft will be a dying art soon, and only those who wield sorcery will wield the true power."

  "But what kind of power do you want?" Hadrian was genuinely mystified. "My father possesses mastery over magick. Why does he need mastery over men?”

  Jessyd threw back his head and laughed, momentarily startling their horse. "You’re too amusing for words," he gasped after his laughter had trailed off. "You make me think of when I watched two friends of mine throw a cat into a sack and then bash it against a wall. I imagine that cat, when it tottered out afterward, would have possessed the same amount of wits as you’re displaying now." Hadrian’s cheeks burned with humiliation, but Jessyd wasn’t through. "Gavedon’s purpose in life isn’t to be a teacher. He’s The One! He’s the man who will lead Juxtan into the Age of Enlightenment and Sorcery, where magick knows no bounds and the impossible becomes possible. No more antiquated magecraft rules, no more limits upon what magickal achievements might be made. New discoveries, new powers—what did you think the Order of the White Shard was? A social gathering for tea and biscuits? Do you think a man like Gavedon would waste his time teaching others only to have them do nothing with the knowledge? Or better yet, allow themselves to be denied the right to apply that knowledge by a handful of jealous old mages? Are you truly that hopelessly naive and stupid?"

  Hadrian struggled not to be affected by Jessyd’s relentless belittlement. But the words were familiar, and so too was the feeling they engendered in him.

  Jessyd studied his face and gaped. "You did believe that! By the gods, you did Gavedon a favor by turning against him. If you were still in line to inherit the Order you’d let it fall into disarray because you wouldn’t know what to do with it! He should thank the gods you betrayed him."

  "I didn’t betray him!" Hadrian was no longer able to control his rage. "He betrayed me. He’s my father. He’s supposed to protect me, to love me. He’s not supposed to turn me into a killer or create a band of criminals."

  Jessyd smiled thinly, his brown eyes flat with dislike. "Gavedon happens to prefer his ‘band of criminals’ over you, however. Because at least we obey him. At least we respect who he is and what he represents. You’re nothing but an ingrate. You’ve no idea how pleased I was when you and he finally squared off. His coddling of you had been a waste of his time and energy. I knew you were too weak to be what he wanted."

  Hadrian looked away, trying in vain to pull the ice around him. "Shut up. I don’t care what you say."

  "You’re right. It doesn’t matter what you think. You’ve long lost meaning to the world."

  When Hadrian glanced at him warily, confused about what he meant, Jessyd just smirked. "I’m taking you to Gavedon. This plan, although mine, is to give him what he wants: a final reckoning with you." He glanced down at Hadrian again. Shadows crouched beneath his brows, giving his eyes the look of bottomless pits. "You’re looking forward to seeing him again, aren’t you? I know he’s been ever so anxious to have his wayward son back."

  The way he said that, with the malicious glee lurking in his voice and eyes, made Hadrian swallow nervously. What did his father have in store for him? To kill him? Eventually. He wouldn’t grant Hadrian a quick death. His father wasn’t fond of simple, expected torments. It would be something inventive. Something that lingered, causing the utmost pain whether to heart or body, Hadrian didn’t know, nor doubted it mattered. In the end he would be broken and Gavedon would dispatch him, perhaps with a hurtful parting comment to wring a last tear from Hadrian’s eye.

  Hadrian did know a thing or two about his father.

  "Why are you doing this?" Hadrian was tired, tired nearly unto death. Jessyd’s hatred of him was only weakening him further. "Why treat me this way when I’ve done nothing to you?"

  Jessyd’s face hardened, his eyes going mysteriously blank. "Because you possess something I want, and only by destroying you will it become mine."

  ~~~~~

  Lio was a good runner. It was a fortunate ability to have and one he’d developed from a lifetime on the street, pinching pockets. Slow thieves didn’t enjoy long careers, it was as simple as that.

  But it turned out his fleet feet weren’t needed all that much as he carefully followed Jessyd’s horse. The brunette sorcerer had left the camp at a gallop but soon after he’d slowed the horse to a walk. Maybe he’d realized that his horse would tire quickly when burdened with two people. Or maybe the rendezvous with Gavedon was a long ways off and Jessyd wanted to keep his horse fit for the journey. Whatever the reason, it made the situation that much easier for Lio.

  As he scurried from rock to rock, always keeping about ten horse-lengths behind his quarry, Lio considered Jessyd’s betrayal and came to a very unpleasant conclusion. Lio was going to have to kill Jessyd, or if he was lucky, help Hadrian do the deed. Jessyd had spun a sorrowful tale of abuse that had touched Lio’s heartstrings. Lio was familiar with mistreatment and sympathized immediately with anyone who’d shared the same fate. So to learn that it had all been lies—that made Lio seethe with an anger he rarely felt. To kidnap Hadrian on top of that deceit was just about more than the green-eyed thief could take. Lio was going to put a stop to this by whatever means necessary.

  Quiet as a moth flitting from one perch to the next, Lio darted across the rocky landscape while keeping his eye on Jessyd’s back. Hadrian was in the sorcerer’s lap and was either unconscious or too weary to put up any sort of resistance. Lio hadn’t seen his friend move a limb. That was worrisome, because Lio was pretty sure he’d need Hadrian’s help to overcome Jessyd.

  It was extraordinarily dark. Were it not for the occasional glimpses of moonlight as it peeked between the clouds, Lio would have stumbled and fallen head first into rocks numerous times. Jessyd was taking a great risk traveling as he did. If their horse tripped or slipped a hoof into a crack, both sorcerers would surely be thrown.

  I need to stop them soon, Lio told himself. Before they meet with Hadrian’s father and before their horse throws them.

  But how? What could one skinny thief do against a powerful sorcerer?

  Flummoxed, Lio hunkered down behind a boulder to think. Unfortunately, thinking wasn’t his strong suit and he found himself searching a mostly blank mind. What would Gam do? But again, that sort of thinking didn’t help because Gam always came up with ideas that Lio would never have come up with on his own.

  Lio’s eye widened. There was one thing he hadn’t tried yet. He closed his green eye and lifted the eyepatch covering Gam’s eye. The hazel eye moved rapidly, showing him things which initially confused him. But when they were repeated, he understood: his friend was sending a message the only way he knew how. Clever Gam! Grinning, Lio emptied the contents of the waterskin hanging at his waist, letting the water pool beside his feet. He squatted, and after letting the water soak in for a bit, began to stir up a muddy paste, which he began smearing over his bare skin.

  ~~~~~

  They both heard the rattle of a rock rolling across the stony ground. Jessyd pulled the horse up and looked back, his entire body tensed.

  "They’ve come for me," Hadrian declared, his heart climbing to a gallop of anticipa
tion. "You can’t run away from them, Jessyd. Caled and Manix will never give up on me."

  "So you think," Jessyd muttered. He began to speak words of an ancient tongue, words that sounded like gibberish to Hadrian but which were obviously magecraft.

  Hadrian let out a loud gasp as a green luminescence shone through the gaps in his clothing. The glow radiated most brightly off the bare skin visible between the cuff of his tunic sleeve and the top of his glove. "What is happening to me?"

  "It’s happening to all of you." Jessyd scanned the darkness for a long moment. He spoke more magecraft and the unexplained glow on Hadrian’s skin faded and eventually vanished. Jessyd faced forward again and clucked their horse into motion. "No one’s coming for you, Hadrian. If they were, I would see them."

  Though not understanding how Jessyd had caused his skin to glow, Hadrian did understand that it was a safeguard the other sorcerer had employed to detect the others’ presence. The darkness around them had been unbroken when Jessyd had used the magecraft. Apparently, no one was coming for Hadrian. The news was crushing. He wanted to close his eyes and give up.

  "You’ve had this planned from the beginning," he said, not certain he cared any longer. "Every word from your mouth has been a lie."

  Jessyd looked amused. "Yes. Quite clever of me, hmm? I’m especially pleased with my acting. I think Manix was ready to adopt me as his new apprentice."

  The comment burned, since it was something Hadrian wanted for himself. "He hates you now. And with good reason."

  "I was willing to sacrifice my life to have you where you are now. If you think a boring old man’s opinion of me matters after that, you’re mad."

  Hadrian thought of the traps they had survived, all of them potentially deadly. "How could you be willing to die for Gavedon? He wouldn't offer his life for yours."

  A long-suffering sigh issued from Jessyd’s mouth. "Your ignorance knows no bounds, does it? Gavedon can give life to the dead. He would have revived me. I’m not a fool."

  "He can’t do that," Hadrian said softly, horror growing within him. "No man can pull another from the grasp of Death."

  "Then how do you explain Midagon?"

  Midagon, the old seer who was suddenly not so old in the space of a day. Hadrian remembered that unexplained and unnerving transformation and realized he’d deliberately shied from thinking about it. What Gavedon had used to accomplish such a reversal of time must have been dark sorcery, indeed, and Hadrian didn’t want to know about it. But could Gavedon bring a man back from the dead?

  "Those are powers no man should tamper with," Hadrian whispered. "You’re a fool to let Gavedon use them on you."

  Jessyd sniffed at him. "Not a fool, a wise man who sees an opportunity and is willing to risk everything to take it. I’m not a coward like you, Hadrian. I’m not afraid of Gavedon. I admire him. Besides, the point is moot." He smirked at Hadrian. "Kidnapping you didn’t require anything so demanding, did it?"

  Just hurting my friends, Hadrian thought. But he knew that wasn’t something Jessyd cared about in the slightest.

  They rode without speaking for another twenty minutes, the heavy clomp of their horse’s hooves over the hard-packed earth the only sound. Hadrian tried to resign himself to his fate but he couldn’t help glancing back over Jessyd’s shoulders from time to time, hoping for a glimpse of golden hair. Eventually steam vents rose up from the ground ahead, the gases puffing up like fieran’s breath.

  Jessyd wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the air. "More springs. I’d forgotten about these." He looked down at Hadrian and grinned at him. "Care for another dip? I can’t promise it’ll be half as exciting as your last frolic in the water. Then again, I’m not your handsome mercenary friend so it really isn’t fair of me to expect the same whore-ish declarations of love from you."

  Hadrian didn’t answer. He wanted to close his eyes and drift into unconsciousness where Jessyd and his cruel taunts couldn’t find him. He only forced himself to stay conscious because meeting his father with his eyes closed seemed ten times more horrible. Who knew what sort of atrocities Gavedon might inflict on him?

  "I do wish Caled was with us," Jessyd went on. Hadrian tensed and slid his eyes up to the other man. "The three of us would have a lovely time naked together. I felt what was in his breeches, by the way," he said lightly, as if discussing how blue Caled’s eyes were. "That was a large cock to take on your first go. Did it make you bleed much?"

  Hadrian said nothing, certain his teeth would crack from the pressure of clenching them.

  The smirk Jessyd wore said he thought he knew what Hadrian’s answer would be, regardless. "I should have ridden him before I killed him," he said with false regret. "It’s been a long time since I’ve had my hands on such an impressive piece of flesh."

  Taunt or no, it was the first thing Jessyd had said that gave Hadrian hope. Caled couldn’t be dead because he himself wasn’t dead. If Jessyd lied about killing the mercenary, perhaps everything hadn’t gone according to plan and Jessyd didn’t want him to know it.

  Jessyd rolled his right wrist, wrapping the reins around it. With his hand now freed he spread his fingers wide on Hadrian’s lower belly, his pinky finger just touching the top of Hadrian’s limp sex.

  "Would you like to know a secret, dear brother? Do you know that I haven’t had the pleasure of sharing another man’s bed since the day you turned Shard’s Point to ash? It’s why I’m a bit shocked I didn’t ride your mercenary when I had the chance."

  Ignoring the part about Caled, Hadrian said skeptically, "I find that difficult to believe."

  "Oh, but it’s true. There are other members of the Order who are interested in me, make no mistake. I’ve caught them staring. I can guess at their thoughts. And yet none of them dare approach me that way. They’re afraid to. Do you have any idea why?"

  Hadrian’s mind tried to make a connection between this and something Jessyd had said earlier. There was something there.

  "Your father taught me a lesson—alright, yes, he taught it to both of us—" Jessyd corrected himself with a chuckle as if he were sharing a delightful childhood memory they both recalled with fondness. "It was a lesson which I was glad to learn. Why am I so glad? Because it showed me what is important to Gavedon."

  Hadrian stared at him blankly.

  "You remember that day when I whipped you, don’t you?"

  Hadrian pursed his lips and said nothing. His feelings over that day had waned little over the years.

  Jessyd nodded. But to Hadrian’s surprise the other sorcerer didn’t appear to be gloating over the memory of being ordered by Gavedon to whip him. The skin around Jessyd’s eyes was slightly pinched.

  "I didn’t enjoy doing that to you," he admitted, and Hadrian did believe Jessyd disliked it. The truth was on his face. "I was punished that way once by a man who’d paid coin to have me suck him. But he’d lied. He’d wanted more. He nearly killed me. I don’t like that sort of thing. Not even doing it to someone else."

  Hope raised its head tentatively in Hadrian. "I believe you, Jessyd," he said carefully. "We were both abused that day. What my father did to us wasn’t right."

  He must have said something wrong though, because Jessyd’s expression hardened ever so slightly. "No, it was right. Someone needed to be punished, so it may as well have been you. Someone needed to be punished because we had gone against something very important to Gavedon. Do you know what it was, brother?"

  Hadrian’s brow furrowed in annoyance. "Stop calling me—"

  And then the connection was made. His eyes went round. "No," he said, shaking his head. "He doesn’t think of you that way. You’re nothing to him. You’re—"

  "Not the Son of the One, but the Heir of the One." Jessyd’s eyes gleamed with triumph. "I’ve taken the role Gavedon tried to groom you for, but which you failed in every possible way. The Order recognizes it. It’s why no man dares touch me. They remember Gavedon’s edict about approaching you, and they understand it must apply to me also, sinc
e I am his heir."

  "You’re not his heir!" Adrenaline poured into Hadrian, making him lightheaded as he glared at the other man. "You’re not of his blood. You’re just a boy who was dumped on the island. You’re nothing to him!"

  "Then why are you so upset?" Jessyd taunted back, just as vehemently. Both hands came up to squeeze Hadrian’s face. The leather reins wrapped around Jessyd’s wrist hit Hadrian in the ear hard enough to hurt. "You’re upset because you feared it all along, didn’t you? You saw it happening. You saw his favor sliding to me and remaining there because it belonged there. Well, I’m sorry to say the situation hasn’t changed since you left us, brother. In fact, it’s improved. Gavedon treats me like the son he never had. By the gods, I am his son. I am the Heir of the One. He’s my family. And when you finally breathe dirt, I will be the Son of the One, the second most powerful sorcerer in all of Juxtan."

  "No!" Hadrian struggled to shake Jessyd’s hands off of him. "You’re not his son!"

  Jessyd lowered his voice as he lowered his head. Against Hadrian’s trembling lips he whispered, "And I will possess the love he never granted to you, Hadrian. All that glorious, fatherly love that you’ve wanted all your life but could never earn from him. But I’ve earned it, Hadrian. I’m everything you couldn’t be. I’m everything he’s ever hoped for."

  From somewhere in the depths of his soul, flickering like the last ember of a magnificent fire, Hadrian found strength. He swung his fist at Jessyd’s face, striking the other sorcerer as hard as he could across the nose. He felt something crack beneath his knuckles. Jessyd cried out and jerked away from Hadrian as a torrent of blood flew from his nose.

  "He’s not your father!" Hadrian screamed at him, hearing his voice, like a madman’s, pealing through the night sky in discordant notes. He felt his grasp on restraint snap, and rage poured through him, such terrible, terrible rage. "He’s my father! He’s never loved you! You’re not his son. I’m the only one he can call that!"