A Mage's Power

by Casey Wolfe

  “You are so not helping your cause,” Shaw deadpanned.

  Rowan picked up a smaller bottle filled with a light-blue liquid. “Here, try this one.”

  “You completely ignored me,” Shaw pointed out, at the same time Rowan was whispering a word.

  Light burst from the bottle, startling Shaw and projecting all around the room. It was pretty neat, but he found himself teasing, “You may have heard of these things called flashlights.”

  Rowan chuckled. “Yeah, well this thing doesn’t run out of batteries.” He murmured a different word, and the light appeared to fold itself back into the bottle.

  “Point taken.”

  Music started to play and Rowan reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out his cell phone. “Ieus? Wonder what he wants.” After answering, Shaw watched Rowan’s face change before his eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “What’s wrong?” Shaw asked when Rowan hung up.

  “The board’s called an emergency meeting with all the Guild masters.”

  “Did he say why?”

  Rowan shook his head. “I’m assuming it has to do with this dark mage business.”

  “I’ll drive you,” he offered immediately.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I want you to be safe.” Shaw licked his lips. “I guess I’m going into work after all. See if there’s any rumblings there.”

  “I can get Caleb, or somebody else, to bring me home,” Rowan said.

  “You should come back to my apartment where I can keep an eye on you.”

  Rowan lifted a brow.

  “I’m worried.”

  Rowan sighed. “I’ll think about it.” He leaned in and stole a kiss—likely to shut him up, but Shaw wasn’t complaining.

  “Just let me know what you’re doing,” he conceded. “I can come back out here tonight if you need me to.”

  Shaking his head, Rowan prodded him out of the room. When all he grabbed was his wallet and keys, Shaw knew Rowan would be returning to the Sacred Timber that night. He certainly wasn’t making it easy to keep an eye on him. It wasn’t as if Rowan was incapable of taking care of himself, but that didn’t stop Shaw from worrying.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” Shaw said as they went out the door.

  Rowan laughed at him, which did absolutely nothing to help the situation.

  Chapter Ten

  “I’M NOT SURE about this,” Rowan commented, looking around the meeting room. The board had called together every Guild member currently holding at least one masters to explain the situation they faced with the dark mage, although it had taken until the late afternoon to get them all assembled.

  “Neither am I,” Tate replied, standing off to the side with Rowan, “but Jorah hasn’t been able to track him any other way.”

  Rowan still had a hard time believing that Jorah of all people had lost the dark mage using a spirit track from the last murder site.

  “What, they didn’t tell you?” Tate continued, leaning closer and dropping his voice. “There was another kill the other night.”

  Rowan’s head whipped around, almost smacking it with Tate’s. “Where?”

  “Outside Azmar. Must have been stalking the festival.”

  Rowan’s stomach dropped out. If he hadn’t been worried about the mysterious presence at his home before, he was downright terrified now. Had the dark mage been stalking him?

  “What did the inspectors say?” Rowan managed to ask.

  Tate’s jaw clenched as he looked away. “An animal attack. They think she wandered out into the woods and got lost.”

  “And Jorah?”

  “It was the same spiritual imprint he got off the other kill sites. He lost the trail when it doubled back to Azmar. Too many magicae to mix in with.”

  “Damn it.”

  Tate nodded in agreement. Things were becoming more complicated. Their time was running out before authorities throughout Osterian would put together the same pattern that they had. After that, it was simply a matter of time before the finger was pointed at the Mages Guild.

  “So, what do we do?” Olivia asked once the board was done filling them in.

  “Quail has suggested we do a group channeling,” Ieus said.

  It was Quail himself who explained, “As my students here might recall, spirit walking is a rather difficult area of Incarnum magic. Even a master may not have full control over where they go in such a trance. Therefore, I’m only asking those with a Masters in Incarnum, if you are willing, to journey with me so we can perhaps locate this errant mage.”

  Frey took over from there. “Ieus and I will be leading the rest of you in the ritual. We will be pooling our energies into helping them succeed, and be here to help draw them back when the spell is over.”

  Ieus set about getting them into position. “Everyone gather round.”

  Rowan was cut off by Jorah. Tate looked between them questioningly, but Jorah jerked his head for Tate to keep going. “You’re coming on this trip,” he told Rowan, his gaze unreadable as always and his words just as guarded.

  “I’m no Master in Spirit,” Rowan pointed out.

  “No, but your testing was slated for later this week, wasn’t it? Consider this your exam.”

  “What?” Rowan’s eyes widened. “No, I have no idea how to spirit walk.”

  “Sacha and I have never done it either.”

  “But you have a masters,” Rowan argued. “It should be easy enough for you.” It was on the tip of his tongue that he could barely hold his hexes and counters, but he refrained.

  “Rowan, this isn’t exactly up for debate. We have a handful of mages here that can do this, two of whom aren’t going in because they fear what can happen if someone skilled enough isn’t left behind to pull us back.” Jorah stepped closer to him, eyes like coals piercing into him. “This is too important to sit back and make excuses. If you call yourself a master mage, then prove it.”

  Rowan was left stunned, attempting to grasp at words but finding nothing would come.

  Jorah grabbed his wrist, pulling Rowan toward the circle where Quail and the others were already getting settled. “Make a bigger hole,” he gruffed, nudging Quail with his boot. He pressed on Rowan’s shoulder to get him to sit.

  “Jorah.” Frey was looking ruffled as she walked over to them. “What is this?”

  “Rowan volunteered to help out.”

  “Like hell he did. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Coddling the boy doesn’t get him to high master.”

  Frey scoffed. “We also don’t force people into performing dangerous magic.” She looked down at Rowan. “My dear, you—”

  “It’s fine,” Rowan interrupted her. “I may not be able to do it, but at least I can try.”

  Jorah’s lips twitched slightly, but he steeled his features just as quickly. He settled down between Rowan and Sacha, saying, “It’s decided.”

  Frey gave Rowan a long, hard look before throwing her hands up and letting it be.

  Quail, who had been casually listening to the whole exchange, reached over and clapped a hand onto Rowan’s knee. “You’ll do fine,” Quail said, a reassuring smile on his face as he leaned closer. “Follow where the energy takes you. Don’t try to fight it. Frey and Ieus will pull you back, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Rowan nodded slowly, hoping that Quail was right. His stomach was already in knots. He’d been acting out of spite more than anything, Jorah’s comment about being a master burning him up inside. While he may have known how spirit walking worked in theory, Rowan had certainly never tried it, and the whole idea was, in truth, terrifying.

  “All of you…” Frey said, drawing their attention. “Take a deep breath… Hold… And breathe out.” Rowan’s eyes fell shut as Frey had them repeat the relaxation practice a few times. “Now, those of you walking, simply follow where we lead.”

  Low chanting started, rhythmic in nature. Rowan tried not t
o focus on the words of the spell itself but rather the beat. He found himself syncing his breathing to it. In. Out. In. Out. He let the magic wash over him, allowing it to draw him in.

  Rowan felt as though he were being pulled from his own body. His first instinct was to resist, but he remembered Quail’s words. Relaxing into the sensation, he gasped as he was tugged forward. He opened his eyes, finding himself in a very different room.

  Everything around him appeared to emanate a kind of smoke. The haze extended to the people around the room. However, the other spirit-walking mages stood there in the fog with him, smoke licking around them, almost wisping in and out of existence. It was like being in another realm, ethereal and unnerving all at once.

  Rowan went to speak, only to feel pulled by an invisible tether. The world moved around him in a blur before he was dropped into a familiar place. Well, as familiar as the world could look when covered in this strange, muted fog.

  He was in the back alley behind his shop. Why did the spell bring me here? he wondered. A shape emerged from the shop’s window. Trailing smoke, Badger manifested in a partially solid state, just as his fellow mages had been. Something compelled Rowan to follow.

  Everything around him moved like it was underwater. His limbs felt sluggish and heavy. The sounds were all a distant murmur. The farther he went, the darker it seemed to become, as if light itself had trouble piercing through the ever-shifting haze.

  Suddenly, the form before him changed. Badger was no longer a cat, but a man.

  Rowan gasped and the man reacted in kind, turning to look in his direction. There were no features to be made out, as the man seemed comprised of the same muted tones as their surroundings. One thing that Rowan could see was a pair of pale yellow eyes, slitted like a feline.

  Suddenly, the world around him warped. He felt the rush of wind as he was yanked backward.

  Gasping for air, Rowan reached out, snagging someone’s shirt. His fingers curled in the soft fabric. “Breathe, Rowan.” It seemed an eternity before Rowan started to do so, shaking as he looked up to find Ieus there. “Take it easy. You’re back.”

  Rowan looked from side to side, finding that the others were recovering as well. Quail reached out to him with a little smile on his face, nodding when Rowan grasped his wrist. “Told you it would be fine.”

  “I saw him,” Rowan blurted, looking back to Ieus. “I saw the dark mage.”

  Ieus appeared surprised. “You saw him?”

  Rowan nodded, stumbling to his feet. Thankfully, Ieus was there to keep him from face-planting.

  Jorah’s brows were furrowed together as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m not sure what I saw. I think it was the murders but…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “He’s a shapechanger,” Rowan spoke overtop of Jorah.

  “A shapechanger?” Frey was helping steady Sacha as she stood.

  Rowan understood their skepticism. It was an ancient form of magic, rarely practiced as it was hard to control. However, those who did master it could take on multiple animal forms as easily as any were-creature.

  “I saw him transform right in front of me. It was…” Rowan shook his head. “He’s been posing as the cat that comes into my shop.”

  “Goddess preserve us,” Sacha breathed.

  “He’s been under our nose the whole time?” Tate said

  Jorah’s frown deepened, if even possible. “My own walk makes more sense now. I saw a large predator.”

  “You connected to those who were attacked,” Quail observed. “You saw the terror that they did.”

  “It’s why the attacks looked animal,” Tate realized. “How does someone even learn those powers outside of a guild?”

  “We should call the other guilds,” Frey suggested. “Ask about any members who studied the old arts.”

  “Or expressed interest in doing so,” Ieus agreed.

  “It doesn’t matter who he is,” Jorah said, getting to his feet. “He needs to be taken care of.”

  “I believe I have a location for us,” Quail supplied, accepting a hand up from Rowan. “A cave, in the southern part of the Sacred Timber. It appeared to be on the other side of the Mirrored Waters.”

  “I know that lake,” Tate commented. “It’s isolated.”

  “We find this cave,” Jorah said, “and we flush him out. Hit him fast before he has time to react.”

  “Between all of us,” Ieus replied, “I believe we could manage such a thing.”

  “Not you,” Jorah disagreed. “You and Frey should stay behind.”

  “And why would we do that?” Frey challenged.

  “Allowing the whole Masters Board to go after a rogue dark mage isn’t the smartest course of action.”

  “What do you propose?” Sacha inquired.

  “Naturally, I will go. Tate, Sacha… Quail, your healing skills might be needed.” Jorah looked at Rowan. “You might not have battle experience, but another deft hand in Primal magic will be appreciated.”

  “So, Tate and Rowan for myself and Frey,” Ieus said. He looked over at Frey, who didn’t seem very happy about it, but nodded all the same. “Very well. You’ll inform us where you find this cave? Just in case?”

  Jorah nodded in agreement. “We’ll go in tonight. We can’t afford to put this off any longer.”

  Rowan licked his lips, shifting in unease. “Shouldn’t we prepare?”

  “All the preparation amounts to nothing if the Inquisition is brought down upon the Guild.” Jorah met his gaze. “Sometimes you need to jump in headfirst and worry about swimming later.”

  “An odd attitude for a battlemage.”

  “I believe,” Ieus interjected, “what Jorah is attempting to say is that some things you can’t prepare for. You must trust in the people around you and in yourself.” Ieus settled a hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “Trust your abilities, Rowan. They will not fail you.”

  Rowan took a moment to process the words before nodding. It appeared he had little choice in the matter, in any case. He simply hoped Jorah knew what he was doing. It was likely he was leading them all to their deaths, otherwise.

  ROWAN WAS WEDGED into the backseat of Quail’s truck, between Sacha and Tate. They hadn’t left until well after dark, partly because Jorah had claimed tactics, but mainly because Frey had insisted they all have time to recover from their spirit walking. Except, that meant Rowan had far too long to think—mostly about the fact they were about to go kill his cat.

  He had borrowed a permanent marker from Frey on their way out the door and now sat—almost frantically—putting runes onto his skin. Of course the second he thought to do this, Jorah would be ready to leave. He had no idea how to fight, yet there he was. He would need all the help he could get.

  “You need to calm down,” Tate soothed, placing his hand on Rowan’s wrist to grab his attention.

  “Easy for you to say.” Tate was trained for various forms of combat by Jorah himself. Even Sacha had a bit of experience to that end with her old guild. “I’m flying blind here.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Sacha assured him, hand falling to the nape of his neck. There was a calming force she passed to him, similar to what Shaw could do. It was nothing like his energy though, and all it managed to do was grate against Rowan’s own magic.

  Grunting, Rowan went back to the protection rune he was drawing on his arm. How many did that make now? He knew at least two for shielding, and there was a mana stabilizing one he could add as well.

  Jorah spoke up from the passenger seat in his usual bored manner. “Those won’t do you any good if you lose that arm.”

  Rowan froze.

  “Jorah!” Tate scolded, reaching between the seats and shoving him. “Knock it off!”

  Rather than curse Tate where he sat, Jorah did nothing more than raise a meaningful brow at him before going back to watching the road. “Wasting mana on protection runes doesn’t do anyone any good.”

  “Rowan’s mana reserves will be fine,” Quail s
aid. “Now, leave the boy alone.”

  Rowan was grateful for the vote of confidence—and the backup. At least he wasn’t the lone non-combatant they had. Quail was only chosen for his mastery of healing. His job would be to keep them alive. Granted, they were all hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Here,” Tate murmured. He took Rowan’s right arm gently, plucking the marker away with his other hand. Tate started to draw out familiar runes and Rowan managed to smile a little. Magic prickled his skin as Tate fortified Rowan’s Primal abilities.

  “Thanks.” Rowan had been hanging around Caleb too long—he had the strange urge to rub his cheek to Tate’s head in appreciation.

  Tate shrugged it off, passing the marker back. “Is there a plan, Jorah?” he prompted. “Or are you dragging us out here as bait?” There wasn’t any question that as the former battlemage they were all deferring to Jorah to lead them.

  “Our advantage will be stealth. You and I will draw the mage out, allow the others to stay back and strike if they can. The goal is to get him restrained as quickly as possible. Then we can get him talking.”

  “After that?” Sacha asked.

  Jorah paused. “His answers decide his fate.”

  Rowan didn’t like the sound of that, but he kept drawing his runes. He had something of a gauntlet forming around his left arm. No doubt Caleb would find it cool. Rowan frowned at the thought. Neither Caleb nor Shaw knew where he was. If anything were to happen…

  “We do have one advantage,” Quail mentioned. “He used his shapechanging abilities the other night. He won’t have the energy to use them again so soon.”

  “Perhaps not his full beast form,” Jorah agreed, “but we know he’s been able to still change into a domestic cat, so he may be able to use some aspects of those abilities.” He glanced back at Rowan. “When was the last you saw him?”

  “Umm…” Rowan was thrown for a moment, brows drawn together. “Monday, when I had the shop open.” It had been a couple days before the festival and he’d been attempting to organize everything for it. Badger had kept out of the way, for the most part, lying in a spot of sunshine on the counter.