Ithia: Book One of the Magian Series

by Jen Valena

  Another presence distracted Ithia. Tyrsten. He had followed her and was drawing near.

  A force then hurled her backward away from the mysterious door. She unwittingly screamed out as her spirit jarred back into her body.

  Ithia’s cry had given her presence away. She had awoken something within the confines of the Palace. It would be moments before she was tracked down.

  ✹ ✹ ✹

  “Energy stirs inside,” Rainor said.

  “I sense it too.” Tyrsten gazed down into the valley at the Palace. “And Ithia.”

  “Come. I will get us inside.” Rainor charged toward the front gates, his horses’ hooves kicking mud behind him.

  With a look, Huldo, Feron and Tyrsten silently deliberated amongst themselves for a moment.

  “Is it wise to follow an animal into his den?” Huldo then asked aloud. “This may be a trap. Tyrsten, you should stay behind.”

  “Stay here? That is out of the question.” Tyrsten rode to join Rainor.

  Huldo and Feron followed.

  The three assembled alongside Rainor at the gate. Tyrsten kept his hood up, but Rainor pulled his down to address the guards. “Let me and my companions pass. Alert no one of our entry, or I will personally see to your punishment.”

  The guards obediently opened the gates.

  Rainor proceeded on horseback, leading his companions through the courtyards to a private entryway. Although Huldo and Feron still feared they would be betrayed at any moment, Tyrsten’s attention focused on Ithia’s emotions vibrating deep within the fortress.

  A ram’s horn sounded an alarm.

  “Hurry,” Rainor said as he dismounted.

  “Is that alarm for you or Ithia?” Huldo shot Rainor a skeptical eye. “Why did those guards let you pass if you are an outcast here?”

  “Because Garrick has always welcomed me back after I have spurned him.” Rainor asked, “Why would I get you past the guards to deceive you now?”

  Tyrsten reminded Huldo of the urgency. “Ithia is in there!”

  “The Grand Hall is beyond these doors,” Rainor said, “I sense Garrick is there now. Tyrsten, can you locate Ithia?”

  Tyrsten closed his eyes and sensed Ithia’s energy signature moving ever closer. “She moves toward the Grand Hall.”

  “Feron, Huldo—go around, through this corridor. You should be able to blend in with the soldiers while Ithia is a distraction. Whatever you do, get inside the Grand Hall. Tyrsten, I have another idea for you.”

  Huldo quickly hugged Tyrsten. “Be careful brother. It does not feel right to separate.”

  “We need to move!” Rainor waved Huldo off.

  Feron and Huldo raced down the hallway.

  Rainor turned to Tyrsten. “In here.”

  Tyrsten went through the door Rainor opened for him. As he entered, Rainor grabbed a stool next to the door.

  The wooden stool came down hard on the back of Tyrsten’s head. He crumpled like a rag onto the stone floor. Rainor shut him inside a hall closet.

  “You are more trusting than you thought.” Rainor pressed against the door that held his latest victim. He took a moment to breathe in deep. A trace of pain washed over his face. He shuddered before he stepped through the doors to the Grand Hall, into the brewing commotion.

  21 ✹ Judgment Night

  Shooting star ending

  It’s not the size of your death

  It’s how you use it

  — Haiku by Ithia Sydran

  A long, bellowing cry from a horn warned the soldiers of an intruder.

  Tranquility filled Ithia. She had no idea where it came from, but she didn’t care much for figuring out why at the moment. She was exactly where she was meant to be. All her muscles were limber. Her mind and her body, everything was in alignment—agile. Every molecule surrounding her buzzed with anticipation.

  Still sitting in the small, dusty chamber, Ithia calmly awaited the hostile company that had heard her cry out. She called on all her guides—animal and otherwise.

  Jaguar leapt from her chest and stood sentinel at the door, waiting for the unwelcome guests. “This can still be on your terms. Do not let them take that from you. Manipulate their energy. Direct their force away.”

  When the door swung open. Jaguar jumped on top of the first soldier. The man was surprised by the unseen force that pushed him back onto his companions and toppled them like dominoes.

  Jaguar hissed, “Go!”

  Ithia leapt over the disoriented men and hurried down the wide halls.

  A lone soldier came at her.

  Ithia positioned her hands outward in self-defense. A burst of energy radiated and repelled the soldier from her path. Another and then another charged her. She knocked them aside, with merely her intention of moving past them.

  The Grand Hall was directly ahead.

  As she approached, she sensed that Garrick waited for her there.

  Undeterred, she darted forward.

  The confused soldiers pursued her.

  Ithia plowed open the massive doors and stepped inside the Grand Hall.

  She slammed the doors shut with her will.

  Garrick’s men rammed their collective weight into the doors to prevent Ithia from locking them out.

  A raging sea stirred within her. An energy bomb detonated within her body. The shock wave thundered through the doors and threw the pursuing soldiers against the opposing wall. She wrenched down the long metal bar into its cradle, fastening the door, before turning to see what awaited her.

  A dozen soldiers stood ready on either side of her. She took in their stoic faces. Nolan, Feron and Huldo, were among them dressed as Garrick’s soldiers.

  Ithia didn’t let her gaze linger on their faces to not tip off the others. There was no time to wonder how or why they had gotten into the Grand Hall. For a split second, she feared everything up to now had been a deception. Lizard whispered in her mind, “There are surprises yet to come.”

  An elevated stage displayed a throne upholstered in purple velvet, framed by gold leaf on ornately carved wood.

  Garrick.

  He wore a thick, black beard like a mask. Lines deep beyond his age creased his face. Ithia imagined he was shriveled by sour thoughts and unforgivable actions. His skin was pale. She thought to herself, “Probably from ordering dark deeds from dark rooms.” Even from thirty feet away, it was obvious he was tired and worn.

  Unlike her first meeting with Urica or even Rainor, Ithia did not feel a connection with this ghastly Magian figure. Garrick was foreign, a place that she would never visit.

  A cloud’s shadow fell across the silent room. No aura radiated from Garrick—nothing—a human black hole.

  “Finally. You have come home.” Without standing, Garrick opened his arms wide to her. His deep voice had an enigmatic, persuasive quality.

  “This isn’t home,” she said, yet the gravitational pull of his voice caused her to step closer, despite her revulsion.

  “That is close enough for now.” He waved to his guards to come forward and stop her approach.

  “Stay away!” she commanded the guards.

  The men froze.

  Feron and Huldo glanced at each other, questioning what they should do.

  Nolan’s attention bounced back and forth between Garrick and Ithia. Any second, the world would spin out of control. He was poised to catch it.

  Now that she stood across from Garrick, Ithia didn’t know what to say. He appeared so… weak. If it weren’t for the terrible things he had done, she might have had pity for him. She knew better than to judge appearances as an indicator of strength. She had learned that with blind, old Urica. Although, as she scrutinized Garrick, she surmised he might not be quite the titan of his reputation.

  She inched toward him cautiously.

  “Unfortunate,” Garrick said as he saw her eyes. “You have been ruined by Magians.”

  Ithia scoffed.

  He didn’t raise his eyebrows nor lower them in frustra
tion, but gave a half smirk. “I see now, I was optimistic to believe that you would willingly champion my cause.”

  “Having me abducted was bad start.”

  “I would not have had to if your Grandfather had not hidden you from me. He sabotaged your life. And from what I understand, the wretched old man kept you ignorant of our world.”

  Ithia caught her breath. Garrick knew the truth about her grandfather.

  “He had his reasons to hide me from you.”

  “Oh, yes. He had his motives, not all so pure—I know.” Garrick narrowed his eyes. “However, I am liberating the people. I offer the way of the future. If you had not been manipulated by Magians, you could see that.”

  “You kidnapped, tortured and killed. What can validate that?”

  “If you had seen the world your Magians had created for us, you would have understood, you would have gladly fought for me.” Garrick wiggled back into his chair. “My calling was to be a Sidari—to bring order to the chaos caused by centuries of self-righteous Magian louts. However, my Sauvant intuited my calling and, out of fear and misplaced allegiance to the status quo, he held me back during my Actuation. Me? An Innocenti? No. I deserved the power you now possess. How much more effective my eradication of the injustice would have been.”

  Ithia’s nostrils flared. “The powers didn’t reveal themselves within you.”

  “That is what your precious Magian, Tyrsten, would have you believe about Actuation.”

  “So you kidnap and kill Magians because you’re unhappy about being an Innocenti?”

  “I cured this land of Magian rule, but I did not kidnap them. One by one, they abandoned their people. Now no one is told what to be by a so-called teacher. I have brought about equality.”

  “What gives you the right to suppress a whole society for your own gain?”

  “This.” Garrick slammed his finger into the gilded armrest. “This throne is left over from the days of the Magian rule, Magian power, Magian abuse. It is a symbol of my responsibility to change for the people. I am not the oppressor.”

  The door cracked open behind Garrick. A cloaked figure entered. Ithia didn’t need the hood to drop to recognize it was Rainor. He came forward, standing next to Garrick.

  Garrick startled slightly. “What are you doing here?”

  “Witnessing this event.”

  “Interesting timing.” Garrick eyed Rainor. “I assume you have introduced yourself?”

  Rainor nodded at Ithia.

  She sensed Nolan covertly moved toward her. Ithia took another step forward. “Why did you have Rainor attack me?”

  “He took it upon himself to hurt you.”

  “Did you act on your own?” Ithia regarded Rainor with skepticism.

  Rainor cursed. “He demanded results. Breaking down your resolve would help persuade you to listen.”

  “I asked for no such abuse. I wanted her strong, and now she is unbalanced and debased by Magians.”

  Ithia tried to read Garrick’s mind, but he, too, was a fortress.

  Garrick’s voice took a warm quality, sweetened with protective, patriarchal undertones. “Rainor performed psychic attacks on you because you escaped him with that Magian, Tyrsten. He was angry. He went after you to manipulate your mind. This is the way of Magians, to subjugate others who are a threat.”

  Ithia frowned. “But you are Magian.”

  “No. Not really. I was abused and suppressed by them. And then I fought them for the future of Ma’thea.” Garrick nodded to Rainor. “He wanted to torment you for his own sick pleasure.”

  Rainor glowered at Garrick. “Then why would I take Ithia back to Earth for her own protection?”

  “If you delivered her back to Earth, it was for your own benefit.” Garrick stood to look Rainor in the eye. “You botched my whole plan and poisoned her mind against me.”

  “I make up my own mind,” Ithia said. “Even if you didn’t order the attacks on me, you have committed crimes against many more. Soldiers killed innocent people. People live in fear.”

  “I never killed innocent people.”

  “What about Tyrsten’s parents?” Ithia took another step closer. “They were murdered because they didn’t give the location of their Magian son.” With the thought of Tyrsten, she could feel his energy nearby, disoriented, injured. Her mind called out to him. There was a rustle of an answer.

  “I told you not to hurt anyone.” Garrick grabbed Rainor with surprising force.

  “You hide in this Palace and make everyone else do your dirty work.” Rainor pushed Garrick away. “Now you play ignorant? You are not out there actually dealing with these filthy people. I do what I deem necessary. As did your Advisor before me.”

  Garrick’s distressed eyes pleaded with Ithia to understand his benevolence. “Rainor acts out of his own appetite for power. I should have anticipated he would, being a Magian Sidari. This is a true example of the Magian crimes. I fought against the corrupt Magians that kept people subservient. He makes a mockery of me liberating the people against tyranny.”

  “No matter what I have done in your name, you are the tyrant.”

  Ithia’s intuitive barometer broke. Perhaps Garrick did want the best for Ma’thea and Rainor had undermined those goals. Perhaps Garrick was pointing fingers when he was to blame. Perhaps Rainor just needed proper guidance after years of being twisted by Garrick. She was not yet ready to abandon her brother.

  Then Ithia remembered Lizard’s missing tail. She had to let go.

  “You both want to control me.”

  Thunder clouds gathered rapidly above the large glass dome overhead, echoing Ithia’s emotion.

  Garrick’s eyes flashed a blood red. “If that is what you believe, we must re-educate you,” Garrick said with obvious disappointment. “You are meant to continue my work.”

  Ithia shook her head.

  “I will make you see the Truth whether you want to or not.” Without warning, he leapt forward and caught Ithia by her neck.

  Struggling between surprise and anger, she did nothing to defend herself.

  The door behind Garrick flew open.

  Tyrsten staggered through, sensing her imminent danger, and mustered enough power to respond. He spotted Ithia and charged at Garrick, but his strength and balance were compromised from his head injury. He plowed into Rainor, who knocked him away. Tyrsten careened onto the floor, splayed out next to Garrick.

  Garrick shoved Ithia.

  She stumbled back several feet.

  Garrick now drew a long knife from his holster and stooped down. He brought the knife taut against Tyrsten’s neck. “Ah, Tyrsten. I wondered when you were going to drop in. It was my role to train her. And then an Actuation happens with you, the lap-dog of a delusional teacher?”

  “Put the knife down!” Ithia’s cry had little effect on Garrick.

  “Your tricks, little girl, do not work on me. Tyrsten must pay for his crimes.”

  “What crimes?”

  “You are mine! Stolen—first by your wretched Grandparents and then by this pathetic Magian.”

  The knife pressed against Tyrsten’s jugular. Blood now lined the edge of the blade. More pressure, and it would be his end.

  Garrick glared at Ithia. “I might spare his life, if you willingly open your mind to my cause. Now! Surrender to me, let me show you the way.”

  Tyrsten’s life was in her hands. Ithia’s focus was absolute, motionless and poised. “I wouldn’t hurt him if I were you,” she threatened with the intent to back it up.

  “There is the fire!” Garrick sized up Ithia’s response. A new idea glimmered behind his eyes. “If you allow yourself to question Tyrsten’s propaganda, I could use your bold presence as is. I would not have to resort to mind-modifications. You might be more effective if I allowed you to hold on to some of this spirit of yours. You see, you would be the face of a better world.”

  Ithia shivered at his plans for her—brain-washing.

  She contemplated what action
s might save Tyrsten. She cursed him for following her, for endangering himself.

  Garrick grew impatient. He dragged the blade against Tyrsten’s neck. More blood trickled.

  Ithia raised her hands. Her palms faced Garrick.

  The sky thundered.

  “If you attempt to use your influence on me, your Magian dies!”

  Ithia dropped her hands to her side.

  “Stop fighting me!” Garrick yelled, then calmly added, “You must see this Magian needs to die, then his influence over you dies with him. In his absence, you will accept my ways. Unless… you readily yield to me now, then you might save him.”

  Tyrsten’s thoughts entered her mind. He didn’t want her to sacrifice herself. Not for him.

  Ithia lowered her head in surrender.

  Garrick’s knife cut deeper into Tyrsten.

  “No!” Ithia’s fury shook the room—stunning friend and foe alike.

  Seizing upon the chaos, Nolan leapt onto Garrick and wrestled for the knife. Tyrsten rolled out from under the blade, and away from the scuffle’s flailing legs and arms.

  Garrick roared in desperation.

  Ithia knew the soldiers that rushed to her were Feron and Huldo.

  Garrick’s guards surrounded the trio, swords drawn.

  Huldo and Feron blocked her attackers, but they were far outnumbered.

  A fear overcame Ithia, not of losing her own life, but of losing the lives of the people she loved.

  Tyrsten, now steadied, threw himself at a guard lunging at Nolan.

  He was too slow. The soldier struck Nolan with the hilt of his sword.

  Two soldiers held Nolan’s arms, restraining him so Garrick could gut Nolan. However, Garrick didn’t waste his blow on Nolan. Instead, he brought his blade down onto the distracted Tyrsten.

  Nolan launched his muscular frame at Garrick full-force, dragging the guards with him to knock Garrick off balance. Garrick’s blade missed its mark.

  Tyrsten now fought Garrick and one of his soldiers.

  A murderous lust filled Garrick’s eyes.