An inscription was set in the plinth, and Gabriel leaned in to illuminate it:
“Eternally entwined until the seventeenth thread
For the stars will fall where his feet do tread.”
No one knew what it meant. A love message meant for them and lost to the Ages. The image haunted him sometimes. He could see his face reflected in Barbrielly’s though he would never express his emotions. He bottled it up with everything else like always.
Casimir Brynmor was laid to rest in these halls, but Gabriel could not bring himself to his tomb. He always tried to measure up to the Head Mage who died so he would live. No matter what Gabriel did, it was never enough in his mind.
The necropolis was the only quiet place in the castle, and Gabriel often found himself there whenever he needed silence. Here, the pulse of every Element was diminished and he could truly relax.
After a goodly long time, he seized Void and returned to his rooms. Mikelle would be coming with their supper soon, and he still had charts to review and letters to sign. Another letter detailed a missing female Mage written by the sister and asked for Gabriel’s assistance. He put it in a drawer with the others, despondent that he could do nothing for them yet. He got through most of the letters until he read one in a familiar script that began with “Gabriel, please return to Kilkiny. I am so sorry—”
He snapped his fingers and burnt it, debating what he would do to Lael for slipping it in. Mikelle let herself in, a tray of food perched on a hip, and distracted him.
“Should you be lifting such heavy things?” he asked.
“I’m not pregnant.”
Cordis had once told him ‘Never meddle in the affairs of women. They are dangerous and usually carry hidden weapons,’, and Gabriel never forgot. “I mean because of your strength.”
“I’ve killed three men with these hands. I think I can manage supper.”
“Yes, but if you need my help….”
Her hysterical laughter shut him up.
Chapter 16
His hand sat useless on the desk as he flipped through a folio, the whole arm seemingly forgotten. Mikelle watched him for three weeks, and each day he seemed a little more drawn, a little less in control. He put on a strong face in meetings or in conversation, putting the hand in his pocket, but she knew he despaired its loss. He could manage enough strength to bend the fingers and to offer gestures, but daily things like lacing boots, buttoning coats, or turning pages was beyond his capability. She politely offered to lace up all his trousers, but he turned her down with a glare.
“Have you not considered Baylyn Kay?”
He dropped the folio with a slap and sent her such a vehement look she shrank in her chair. When his point was made, he picked the folio back up and returned to reading.
Baylyn was a Class Six Spirit Mage from Arconia and unfortunately one of the women who had taken him. There were precious few Class Six healers left, and those in the castle could not manage to mend nerves.
Mikelle had done all she could to heal him, from slipping herbs to heal in his tea to instructing his masseuse to work on blood flow in his hands. She even laced his soaps with plant oils to warm the skin, hoping he would feel it, but nothing worked.
Each day she tried to mull over the motive of the Arch Mages attack. ‘Perhaps they wanted to cause him so much pain in the Castrofax that he would ask for the others. Maybe they thought he would not cut the hand off. They likely suspected he would, so the crippled hand must have been their motive—unless there were darker reasons. Nolen allied with them, so they must have known Gabriel’s state of mind. I wonder if they would try a second time.’
Gabriel sighed from his desk. “Has Robyn written you?”
“I’m surprised she has not written your cook or chamber maid.”
He huffed and tossed his hair out of his vision. “I’m going to cut this all off. She liked it this length. I wonder what she would say if I cut it as short as my father’s.”
“I will not speak with you until you grow it out.”
“There’s a bonus in that.”
“Remember that spice Prince Balien put in Nolen’s food, so he’d loosen his bowels?” Gabriel grinned, then caught her meaning and gave her a cautious look. “And believe me, you and your hair are very popular with the ladies of Jaden. I’ve heard conversations that would make your blood boil.”
“Keep them to yourself.”
“Have you thought about finding yourself a lady Mage?”
He drummed the fingers of his good hand. “It’s occurred to me; find a Mage and strengthen the bloodlines. But not until the Arch Mages are defeated.”
“I’ve taken the liberty of finding a few women I would pair you with.” She grinned, but she lied. Gabriel was meant to be with Robyn.
“I knew giving you a Council Seat would give you too much power. Next time you devise brilliant plans, don’t.” He glanced outside. “When did it get so dark? No wonder I’m exhausted.”
He undid the buttons on his coat, managing smoothly though she watched with anticipation. When he asked her to lace his shirt up that morning, she tied the knots so tightly, she would have to undo them. He pulled at the tie at his chest and finally looked to her for help. She took her sweet time.
“Try not to look so smug,” he muttered as she finished, pulling the laces as wide as they would go. “I will see you in the morning.”
She gave him a polite nod and sauntered into the anteroom. Lael was still at his desk, burning two tall lamps.
“How is he?” Lael asked before she could escape. The Secondhand had been very inquisitive over the past weeks, like a hawk watching a mouse.
“His usual charming self.”
Lael pursed his lips. “You will let me know if things change, yes?”
She gave him a sly smile. “If it suits me. Good night, Lael.”
Maxine looked out the dark window into the snow-covered night, debating the perfect wardrobe choice for the evening ahead. Her outfits were her best weapons. She had toppled many righteous men with a plunging neckline or backless dress. She turned to her wardrobe and drew out a lilac dress with shoulder caps and enough front support to distract any man into silence.
“Will you clasp the back?” she asked.
Nolen rose from the couch by the fire and with a greedy look fastened the metal snaps. He was the best of pets to have around, always eager to please. He had his own room in her mansion but spent most nights in hers. She never complained; after all, he was eager to please.
Yet, Nolen had a darkness in him she could never understand. She enjoyed toppling kingdoms and their rulers as much as any woman, but Nolen sought pleasure in violence. He had gone on for hours in great detail of how he broke ‘the Mage’ down to every whip crack, but she long ago learned to tune men out when she was finished with them.
“Where are you going in such a pretty dress?” he asked as he spun her around, his hands on her trim waist.
“Sightseeing,” she grinned. “Do not wait up fo’ me.”
“I must though,” he replied, putting a hard kiss on her neck.
“Then behave yourself while I am gone.”
“I will try.” He mused.
Nolen was ever so fetching wearing only a pair of trousers as he usually did in her rooms. She enjoyed the challenge of reining him in. She put a kiss on his lips and seized Void, vanishing into the night.
While the kingdoms’ borders had shifted, and names had changed, while languages had altered, blended or were forgotten, Castle Jaden had stayed the same. Now and again, an Age would birth a new building, or a Head Mage would refurbish old decor, but Jaden was the unbroken diamond that would never decay.
Ryker believed she was eternally devoted only to him and his cause, but she worked very hard for him to think so. In actual fact, she did as she pleased to benefit her cause, which was usually to ally with the best. She had succeeded since she was still a household name in Mage families. Legendary.
While Ryker thou
ght they had no way into Castle Jaden, she actually did. Long ago she captured a Secondhand and took his black ring that bent the wards around Jaden. Ryker thought she lost it to the Ages, but it was her secret to keep. He did not need entrance to Jaden, and she was not sure she wanted to let him in. The look in the Head Mage’s eyes when he recognized the Castrofax kept her awake all that night and haunted her still.
The Head Mage was an interesting conquest. ‘Incredibly powerful in an Age of mediocre Mages?’ It seemed unreal, but she watched him fight and knew the stories were true. He was not just fast at laying patterns; he packed a powerful strength behind them. It was enough to make her shiver in delight.
The wards around Castle Jaden bended to her will as she shifted in and zipped up the stairs of the Lodge. He would be in his room at this hour, and she passed unnoticed through the doors into his bedchamber to find him.
The Head Mage slept on his back, his raven-dark hair a mess of waves on the white pillow. The sheets were tossed and wrinkled, a sure sign he slept restlessly. She laid a sleepers-pattern and set it against his skull, sinking him into a deep sleep from which he would not wake unless she willed it, or eight hours passed.
She threw back the covers and let them fall by his knees. It had been three weeks since the attack. She could have snuck in to spy on him, but the Arch Mages expected him to come to them. She saw why he had not.
The Castrofax was gone. There was only one explanation. She set a reveal-pattern in Void and touched his skin. A bold white line appeared on his wrist—a wound healed by Spirit.
“You did not,” she breathed. Ryker suggested it as a possibility, and she had heard of it done, but this, in an Age where no one could heal him, was a sure sign of desperation. She brushed two fingers through his hair, laying a curl perfectly beside him.
He was ever so handsome, a pet she would love to add to her menagerie, but she supposed he served a better purpose in a position of leadership. She climbed up on the bed and sat beside him, putting his hand in her lap. She laid a glowing pattern of Spirit above her to faintly illuminate the darkness. Kinetic energy moved beneath her and stopped, but she had long since learned to use the tiny energy a person gave off while breathing. The heart and the diaphragm were always in motion.
She spun together a doldrums-pattern and prepared to lift the sleepers-pattern. The glowing light casted beams across his quiet face. She released Void and cut the sleepers-pattern, waiting to see if he would wake. His breathing changed and she held hers.
His right hand flew up and snapped around her wrist as he opened his flashy eyes. She pressed the doldrums-pattern into his chest, and his rigid body grew slack and fell back.
“You are quick,” she smiled, taking up his hand. Her many years of laying doldrums allowed her to manipulate specific areas on the body, and she left the muscles around the eyes unrestricted so she could read his expression. He fumed, glancing to the door for help, most assuredly wondering how she got through his wards.
“Calm yourself,” she said and put a hand on his chest. “If I wanted you dead, you already would be.” Her fingers drummed a tune on his chest, delighting in its solidity. “After all, you did not pull yourself off that summit, did you? I am here because you need me. I want to put aside our differences and work together.” He frowned deeper. “I do not believe in torturing my victims as Nolen has done, or meddling with their fragile minds. My victims lead far better lives.” She gave him a sharp pinch, and he returned with a dark look that pierced right through her. She tittered.
“You need a Void teacher,” she said. “I am a Void master. I will teach you what I know.” He gave her a skeptical look. “Yes, and in return I will have a Head Mage in my pocket when I need a favor.”
She took up his left hand and sank a delve-pattern to feel for damage, slipping it through his whole body for good measure. Her spine straightened, and she inhaled, passing it against his back again. “What—what happened to you?” she gasped. “You are in great need of repai’.”
She sat up on her knees and drew a cloth-pattern down the front of his shirt, ripping it in two. He gave her more than one reproachful look. Seizing Void, she laid the reveal-pattern again to his arm, and suddenly a thousand white lines appeared across his torso, wrapping around his sides and shoulders and under the trouser hem. She gaped openly.
“When Nolen bragged, I thought him pompous. I did not realize he was speaking the truth.” She tugged at the hem of his trousers to see the lines fading. He let out a sharp breath to get her attention and gave her a look that could only mean ‘absolutely not’. She sat down again, tracing a star-shaped scar in the center of his stomach. There was another crescent scar below it, and her brain wracked to discover what had caused them.
“Here is my deal,” again she picked up his left hand but said nothing; instead, she wrapped a healing pattern into the wrist. The nerves connected like a thousand-thousand sparks going off at once, tickling her fingers. Whoever mended his hand did an excellent job, but there was a vessel misaligned and a loose tendon. Smiling with her best seductress grin, she dragged her fingers up and down his palm.
“I will train with you every night, and fo’ every night you arrive, I will heal a new part of you. I will not tell Ryker I can get through Jaden’s wards, nor that I am consorting with you. In exchange fo’ your alliance, I will teach you all I know of Void. Someday I will ask you to do something for me. Do we have an accord?”
She searched his beautiful and skeptical face as he undoubtedly weighed his options. Finally, he exhaled in acquiescence and closed his eyes.
Maxine smiled, putting a kiss on his cheek that he did not seem to appreciate. “I will meet you at the reservoir lookout point. Tell no one of our bargain, and I will refrain from telling my people.” She gave him another kiss on his lips for good measure and just to see him glare at her.
“I am going to put you back to sleep now.” Before he could argue, she laid the sleepers-pattern into his brain, and he closed his eyes, fast asleep.
She could not break the reveal-pattern from him yet. White lines that varied in size and length covered his skin. She traced a thick line from eyebrow to scalp along with another an inch wide and thick as her finger in the soft part of his hip. Since the nerves in much of his back were severed, she expected the entire thing to be one solid white piece. Nolen went out of his way to break this one.
‘If his body was this broken, what state is his mind in?’
Chapter 17
‘I need to go to him,’ Robyn decided. Gabriel would not respond to her summons, nor her letters, and she had to meet him in person. If he had stayed away this long, he must be fuming mad.
She planned her trip as she flicked through reports, making notes in the margins. ‘Coin, bread, cloak, bow….’ A knock on her door announced Lady Aisling and broke her concentration.
Lady Aisling learned how Robyn treated her son and had been rather aloof over the past three weeks. While she offered advice when necessary and handled the palace beautifully, she no longer treated Robyn as a friend.
“Shalaban is attacking the coast,” she stated in her usual calm tone, though her eyes looked a little wider than usual. “General Calsifer and his segment are holding the Balfor Delta, but the Shalabane have made it as far as Kinsten Kel where Prince Balien is holding. We need to divide the rest of the army and send it their way.”
Robyn sighed heavily. This would keep her from traveling to Jaden. “Are they marching on Cinibar as well?”
“No, they are cutting a line west.”
“What of the Myron Islands?”
“General Calsifer did not say.”
“What do they want with us?”
“Land, resources, slaves, money; the same things all men fight for.” Aisling straightened. “You will need to address the people before they learn from rumors. War will cause mass panic and prices will skyrocket. You will need to prevent this from happening.”
“How many Mages do we have in the City
?”
Aisling looked up in thought. “Six, all of us Spirit Mages accept Cordis. If we had a better relationship with Jaden, the Head Mage might send us Battle Mages, or even shift our army to Kinsten Kel.”
Robyn gave her a vehement look. “The Head Mage has a thousand other battles to worry about right now.”
“I dare say he does.”
“You’re pretty judgmental for a woman who abandoned her son for a profession,” Robyn snapped.
“Abandoned?” Aisling breathed.
“You paint this well-rehearsed lie of how the palace was dangerous when he was born, but we all know that was never true. You passed him off so you could sit a Council Seat and an Advisorship without being bothered.”
Aisling stared Robyn down with such anger and hate that Robyn was sure she would attack. “Is that what he thinks?” she finally asked.
“No.”
“Then keep your mouth shut on the subject.” She left without another word, but Robyn swore the air crackled around her.
‘Full quiver, boots, blankets, scarf….’
“You have a training session with Water Mage Vinten in an hour,” Mikelle said as she pushed open Gabriel’s door. “Why are you still asleep? I’m assuming you’re not dead.”
He was still abed, even at this hour. She marched to his side and shook a shoulder until he bolted awake with a gasp and looked around for something.
“Morning,” she said, exasperated. “Breakfast is getting…” but he was not listening. Instead he stared at his hand, wiggling the fingers back and forth, and finally snapped a fire-starter pattern. “What…kind of dreams do you have?”
“I…” he gasped but did not explain, laying unfueled patterns from his dead hand.
“What happened?” she whispered.
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