A Mage's Power

by Casey Wolfe

  “If what you say is true, we’re all in very real danger. And someone like me? How long before I’m the Inquisition’s next target? How long until I’m the one to disappear?”

  That did it. Shaw yanked him into a crushing embrace. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know you wouldn’t. It’s why you’re the one here, isn’t it?” Rowan pulled back to look at him. “You said you were their team leader. You feel responsible. You want to protect them. I get it. But, that doesn’t mean you need to be bullheaded and refuse help to do it!”

  Shaw couldn’t argue; Rowan was right. Shaw wasn’t getting anywhere on his own and he couldn’t help feeling like Marcus was running out of time. If he was even alive at all.

  “Well,” Shaw finally answered, “technically I had to do it ’cause furry tails, elf ears, hooves, and the like would kinda give it away.” Rowan shoved him, Shaw chuckling before admitting, “I could use your help. But”—he pointed his finger at Rowan—“I need you to keep your mouth shut and do exactly as I say.”

  Rowan pretended to think about it. “Have I mentioned I don’t take orders very well?”

  “You and my men would get along just fine.” Although Rowan smiled, it quickly faded when he saw the expression on Shaw’s face. “I need to find him, Rowan.” Shaw could hear his own heartbreak in his words, but he didn’t care. “The things they could be doing to him…”

  Rowan tugged him back to sit on the bench. “We’ll figure it out, alright?” He rubbed at Shaw’s arm, up and down. “I’m not sure what help I’ll be. Especially now.”

  “Whaddya mean?”

  Sighing, Rowan confessed, “There’s…a problem I’ve been trying to solve myself. Well, the Masters Board, actually.” He looked a bit guilty as he said, “There’s a rogue mage. We’re trying to locate them and deal with it before the inquisitors find out.”

  Shaw wet his lips. “Well, I can’t really say anything ’bout not telling me…”

  “No. You. Can. Not.”

  They looked at each other a long time. Eventually, Shaw’s lips curled upward and he let out a huffing laugh. “Looks like we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Rowan nodded in agreement. “Bring what you’ve got to my house tomorrow night and I’ll make the tea.”

  Chapter Nine

  IN THE MIDDLE of scanning one of his grandmother’s books, Rowan froze. There was a presence right outside his wards.

  They weren’t a barrier spell, rather an alarm system. Being out in the middle of the forest, he didn’t want to do anything to impede the comings and goings of the wildlife. Some woodland creature wouldn’t have tripped them, however.

  Whatever was out there started skirting the edge of the property. It could have been innocent enough—a person not wanting to trespass—but there was always the possibility it was something that didn’t want to be detected. Unfortunately, because it didn’t seem inclined to breach the ward perimeter, Rowan couldn’t tell exactly who—or what—it was.

  Already uneasy, when the wards were crossed about ten minutes later, Rowan was out on the porch waiting. The wards relayed back someone had turned off the dirt road into his long drive, the second set of inner wards alerting when they grew close enough to hear the crunch of the tires on the gravel. Sparks danced across Rowan’s fingertips, hand tucked behind his back.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when it was the faded red pickup truck Shaw leased that broke through the tree line. When Shaw got out, backpack in hand, Rowan asked, “Did you get lost?” It was a fair enough question since Shaw had only been to the cottage once. It wasn’t like there were street signs out on the trail system, and at night it would have been easy to get turned around.

  “No, I remembered the way.” Shaw stepped up onto the porch. There must have been some concern still on Rowan’s face, as he asked, “Why? What’s’ up?”

  “Something’s out there. My wards picked it up a little bit ago.” Rowan shifted. “Thought it might have been you. Trying to find the turnoff or something.”

  Shaw followed his gaze out into the woods. “Is it still there? I’ll go take a look.”

  Rowan shook his head. “It started to circle around, then left. Probably nothing.”

  Shaw gave him a considering look, stepping closer. “Who you tryin’ to convince? Me or you?”

  Even though Shaw made a good point, Rowan brushed it off. He gestured for Shaw to come inside, not wanting to think it was anything more than it was. He understood Shaw’s paranoia—he was playing a dangerous game.

  So was Rowan for that matter. All the mages were. If they didn’t catch this dark magic-user soon, they were looking at an Inquisition investigation. The idea of that was even less appealing now that he knew for certain about the corruption going on behind the scenes.

  “Tea?” Rowan fell back on his routine of studying, with a hot cup of tea so as not to dwell on the situation.

  “You realize that avoiding shit doesn’t make it go away, right?” Shaw said, following him into the cottage.

  “Are you starting first, or am I?” Rowan asked instead.

  Shaw set his backpack on the dining table, which took up a good portion of the kitchen. The cooking area was nothing more than an L-shaped counter with basic appliances. After setting the kettle to boil, he looked at Shaw expectantly.

  Relenting, Shaw asked, “Do you have a computer?”

  “Laptop’s on the coffee table.” Rowan pointed into the living room, which was open to the kitchen.

  The centerpiece of the cottage was certainly the stone fireplace. Rowan’s well-worn recliner faced it, while the loveseat near the door had been claimed by Caleb. Honestly, Rowan wasn’t sure why he bothered having a couch too—he rarely had company—but it had been a memento from his grandmother’s house.

  Shaw returned with the laptop, setting it on the table. “I didn’t have room for mine in my pack,” Shaw explained, having a seat before opening the backpack to reveal the large stack of files crammed inside.

  Rowan’s eyes widened. “Holy shit.” Rowan sat across from him and asked, “What the heck is all this?”

  “You said to bring everything I had.” Shaw dropped his hand onto the files. “Personnel records for everyone at the temple, all official documentation on Marcus—including the false arrest record that’s since disappeared from the system—blueprints of known Inquisition facilities in Osterian, etcetera.”

  “Wow.” Rowan didn’t even know where to begin. “And you’ve been doing all this on your own?”

  “What Rhys didn’t already have, I sent to him as well. Including this.” Shaw pulled a flash drive from a zipper pocket. “I’ve been stealing data from top Inquisition members. A lot of it is bullshit, but it was how I learned what they’ve been doing.”

  “With the kidnappings?” Rowan clarified.

  “And what their plans for the victims are. I haven’t found anything in the files that indicates how far they’ve come with their experiments or even if it’s started yet.”

  “If they’ve been taking people, then I’m willing to bet it has.”

  Shaw nodded solemnly. “I hope you’re wrong, but…”

  The kettle whistled and Rowan got up to make them both tea, his mind racing. He didn’t want to believe anything like this could be going on; however, the proof didn’t lie.

  The more Shaw showed him what he’d gathered, the more sickened Rowan became. The Inquisition was very clearly working on trying to harness the various abilities that magicae possessed. Everything from the simple—like shielding or advanced healing—to the downright absurd—like harnessing immortality—was on that list.

  “Do you realize the number of people they would need to make these experiments work?” Rowan’s question was rhetorical.

  “Have anything stronger than this?” Shaw asked, finishing his tea.

  There was a cabinet in the living room where a few bottles of liquor were kept that Rowan rarely drank. He waved his hand, calling the Rouval
on whiskey over. When Shaw saw it, he gave an amused huff. “A good choice.”

  “Also, perfect in the tea.” Rowan ought to know. He added a splash to his and didn’t say a word at Shaw drinking straight from the bottle.

  “Well”—Shaw wiped his mouth with the back of his hand—“now that you get the general idea of my lovely problem, what about yours?”

  “Unfortunately, there’s not much more to tell.” He brought Shaw up-to-date on what little he knew of the dark mage. “Now, we gotta wait for Jorah to find them.”

  “That’s it?” Shaw asked incredulously. “You have one guy on this?”

  “Well, the rest of the Masters Board is helping out, and there’s Tate, but…no one else is supposed to know.”

  Shaw shook his head. “Maybe I can—”

  “I think the bigger problem here is this,” Rowan interrupted, nodding his head toward the computer. “Won’t have to worry about the Inquisition finding out about this rogue mage if they’re out there stealing people to experiment on.”

  “You’ve got me there.” Shaw sighed. All the same, he offered, “I’ll do what I can to keep things off the radar down at the temple. But, I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “I understand.” Rowan laid a hand on top of Shaw’s, who turned his over, fingers curling around Rowan’s. “Maybe I can help you, though,” Rowan continued. “At the very least, it’ll take my mind off of all this dark mage business.”

  Shaw seemed to force a smile. “You might be regretting that after you start digging through all this stuff.”

  “Shut up and pass me a file.”

  Shaw’s grin was a lot more genuine now. “We’re gonna need a lot of coffee for this one.”

  SHAW PADDED FROM the bathroom, scratching his stomach. He debated between returning to the bedroom, with its nice warm bed and Rowan, or going for the kitchen in search of something to make for breakfast—or brunch as it were, given the time. His stomach growling made the decision for him.

  At least Rowan kept the fridge and cupboards stocked from what Shaw could tell. He supposed living all the way out in the Sacred Timber made running to the store for milk a little more difficult.

  He was chopping bell peppers and mushrooms—perhaps from the garden Shaw could see out the kitchen window—when he heard activity in the bathroom on the other side of the wall. Rowan appeared shortly thereafter.

  Shaw smirked at Rowan’s rumpled, sleepy appearance. “Somehow, I expected you to be a morning person.”

  Rowan grunted in reply. He moved past Shaw to grab the kettle, filling it and putting it on one of the stovetop burners. He pulled a mug from the cupboard, glanced at Shaw, and grabbed a second one. As he was getting the tea leaves prepped, Rowan finally commented, “Usually not dragging so bad, but it was kind of a long night.”

  Well, Shaw wasn’t about to argue that one. He figured Rowan was rather used to late nights with all his studying. Shaw certainly was capable of going days without sleep. Stress, of course, made that harder to accomplish, especially to an untrained individual as Rowan was.

  “Sit,” Shaw urged gently. “I’ll do that.”

  Rowan hummed gratefully, pressing a kiss to Shaw’s cheek before following instructions. Sighing, Rowan’s upper body was draped onto the table, one arm pillowing his head while the other was kept straight. “Going back to bed sounds good,” he mumbled.

  Shaw smiled. “You’d miss out on my amazing omelets.”

  There was a wry twist to Rowan’s lips as he opened one eye. “Can’t have that.”

  “So, plans for today?” Shaw broke eggs into a bowl.

  “Not really. I’m not opening the shop for another couple days. I’ve got a few orders to work on, but nothing pressing. Probably will end up studying.”

  “You need a break,” Shaw chastised. The whisked eggs had gotten a splash of milk and fresh herbs. He dumped the mixture into a preheated pan, pushing them around a bit.

  “But, I like studying. Caleb doesn’t seem to get that.”

  “You must have some other hobbies.” At least Rowan seemed to appreciate the fact he hadn’t said his studies couldn’t be a hobby. It was a strange one, sure, but who was Shaw to judge what somebody else liked to do?

  “There’s my garden. Easier to grow your own vegetables and herbs. And my gram always had flowers. I read a lot too.” Shaw turned to find Rowan looking at the rather impressive bookcase on the back wall.

  “Quiet, relaxing, solitary hobbies.” Shaw took the kettle off the stove when it whistled, pouring them into the waiting mugs with tea leaves. “Not an adventurous bone in your body?”

  Rowan laughed. “Not so much, no. It’s not like I don’t get out at all,” he defended. “I go on walks quite often. Fish in the pond. Walk around the old neighborhoods of Everstrand.”

  “And get drug out for social activities by a certain werewolf.”

  “And that.” Rowan was smiling fondly. “It’s in Caleb’s nature to be social. He doesn’t have his pack, so that means mixing it up with other people. He drags me along because he thinks I need to get out of my head, or ‘Heaven forbid you socialize,’” Rowan tried for a poor imitation of Caleb. “Then I drag him back here ’cause I know he likes to get away from the city noise and be in nature where he feels more at home.”

  Shaw smiled softly; Rowan couldn’t see it. “You two make a good pair.” After a moment, Shaw chuckled. “Honestly, you’re more than opposites attract. It’s almost impossible to imagine you becoming friends, but here you are.” He set the mugs on the table. “You balance each other out well. Don’t think Caleb could find a better friend.”

  There was a flush on Rowan’s face when Shaw turned back to plate up the omelets.

  “Besides,” Shaw continued, “someone has to make sure you have a good time. Don’t mind if that could be me though.” When he looked, Rowan’s blush had deepened. Shaw set a plate in front of him. “Eat up. And, if you don’t have any particular plans, maybe I can play hooky and spend the day with you.”

  “I’d like that.” Rowan took a bite, making an approving noise and quickly taking another. “You weren’t kidding. This is great.” He took a sip of his tea and hummed thoughtfully. “But your tea skills could use work.”

  “Well, we can’t all be perfect.”

  Rowan shook his head, shoving another forkful in his mouth as Shaw started to dig in too. “I really enjoy spending time with you,” Rowan said between bites. “Doesn’t seem to matter what we’re doing. I just like being with you.”

  Shaw smiled softly, looking down at his plate. “Same. You’re… Damn, I suck with words.”

  Rowan stopped, food halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he set the fork down, looking over at Shaw thoughtfully.

  “What’s wrong?” Shaw asked when Rowan remained silent.

  “We’re…” Rowan licked his lips and tried again. “I know we talked about seeing how things worked out between us, after our fight. And I-I think it’s been going well?” He cleared his throat, eyes darting away. “I mean, it’s been going better than any of my other boyfriends have, as of late. Not that that’s saying much—”

  “Hey.” Shaw reached over and laid his hand on Rowan’s. “There’s no pressure here, okay?”

  The vulnerable expression on Rowan’s face was almost too much. “Yeah?”

  “Ro, it’s not a secret I care about you.” Shaw smiled gently. “I want you. If you’ll have me.”

  Rowan grinned, turning his hand to hold Shaw’s. “I will.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked away. “Honestly, I think I’m the one who should be asking if you’ll have me. I’m awkward and too focused and—”

  Shaw leaned over the table, cutting off Rowan’s rambling with a kiss. “Ro? Shut up.”

  Rowan shoved him, unable to hide his continued smile.

  “Finish up,” Shaw said. “Maybe we can watch a movie, or go out by the pond.”

  Rowan relaxed. “Sounds good to me. I want to check on a couple things in the other ro
om first.” He popped the last of the omelet into his mouth pointedly.

  “What you got in there anyway?”

  “Potions, spell supplies, my books.” Rowan lifted a shoulder. “You’re welcome to come check it out.”

  After Shaw cleared the dishes, he did just that. Rowan was already there, bent over a table with an array of potions laid out on it.

  The room was a turret-style addition to the cottage. Oversized windows provided a beautiful view of the woods and pond. One wall was covered by a large bookshelf. Unlike the one in the living room, this appeared to contain magic textbooks—both new and old. Other shelves had various canisters, boxes, and the like, with unknown supplies. A decoration made of bones and feathers hung from the ceiling. If Shaw had to guess, it was likely enchanted.

  “This is nice,” Shaw commented. It was clearly newer than the rest of the cottage.

  “Caleb talked me into expanding,” Rowan said, confirming his suspicion. “I used to have everything scattered around the house.”

  “Doesn’t exactly allow for company,” Shaw reasoned.

  “Wasn’t used to that before Caleb.”

  “Not even with the other mages?” Surely Rowan had study sessions at least.

  “Kept that to the city. Wasn’t ever that comfortable bringing people out here.” Rowan grunted. “Not that I did much with the others, anyway. I didn’t care for their study habits.”

  “Didn’t take it seriously enough?” Shaw guessed.

  Rowan only smirked.

  “So, these aren’t gonna blow up too, are they?”

  “I’m never living that down, am I?”

  “Not likely.” Shaw stood by Rowan, a hand on his lower back. “What are all these, anyway?”

  “Mostly basic potions. Trying to get the hang of making them. I do have a few experiments, though.”

  “Is that smart? I mean, at this stage of doing things?”

  “Probably not.”

  Shaw scoffed. He had nothing to say to that. Instead, he reached out toward a particularly interesting looking bottle which glowed a bright yellow with swirls of orange. “This one looks cool.”

  “I wouldn’t touch that one.” Rowan grabbed his wrist. “It’s, um, a little unstable.”