by Nichols, TJ
Still, greeting was part of the job. Miniti’s standing would increase with his welcome. She would be seen as open and inclusive, but it would also give Saka a better idea for what other tribes were saying and how they were feeling. Were they all as fearful as his? Was everyone hoping to spill human blood and draw up the rivers immediately? Or were some thinking of the future. Going to war with the humans when demons couldn’t open the void was a dangerous strategy as it gave the humans all the advantages. Of course if they sacrificed enough humans, then perhaps they would stop summoning demons.
Saka took it as a good sign that he was welcomed and not turned away as he made his greetings. Eventually he sat down in the shade of a tree with Lox and Becha. Mages he counted as close friends, even though they only saw each other at Lifeblood.
They wanted to know more about his warlock as well as the humans and their plans. Saka took the opportunity to give information—truth and not speculation. The other mages needed to know that they had allies on the other side.
“Why would they risk their world? What good is power if it only destroys?” Lox sat cross-legged opposite Saka. She looked much like him, but her skin had more of a purple sheen and her horns were perfectly straight; she was quite a beauty.
Since Angus was his second warlock, he forgot that he knew more about the human world than most. And even though he had tried to share the details, many were not interested. Or they hadn’t been, until recently.
“Their society is different. To them power means wealth.”
“They are like children who don’t know any better.” Becha shook his head.
“They haven’t been taught any better. Their masters have failed their students, and now those students teach others the flawed learning. The underground is trying to fix it, but they do not have demons. Many have shunned demons, believing it unhealthy.” According to Guda, even the underground was split. Some believed, like Angus, that demon and human could work together, and others believed that it was best to avoid getting a demon.
“We cannot wait for their faults to be corrected.” Lox sighed. These were both level demons, and even they were starting to lose hope.
Saka shrugged. “I think we have reached a tipping point.” On both sides of the void.
The three of them nodded.
“Do you find working with a human odd?” Lox tilted her head.
“He is willing and interested, so it makes the rituals more effective.”
Becha laughed. “You have a human apprentice. He who has avoided teaching while entangled with warlocks has finally succumbed to the need to share knowledge.”
Saka lowered his head in acknowledgment. That was true. He did want to teach Angus. Most mages reached a point where they wanted an apprentice and to pass on what they knew—not all received permission to teach. He had always been more worried about Demonside as a whole than teaching. He had volunteered twice to have a warlock, despite the danger. Yet the need to teach had caught up with him.
“Let us hope I am a good teacher, for all of our sakes.”
The demons nodded. A large green demon dropped out of the sky and landed near them. Saka had thought she’d been a hunter, circling, but it was Guda. He bowed to his old teacher while Lox immediately told of Saka’s new apprentice.
She looked down her snout at him and nodded. “I have met your warlock. I think you teach him well.”
It wasn’t only Angus who needed teaching. “I think we need more mages willing to get a warlock.”
Becha wrinkled his nose. “Many would disagree. The idea of being summoned is abhorrent. Living at the whim of a warlock… do you not struggle with the bonds?”
He did. But there was always a tradeoff. “The magic I bring back is needed. Imagine what more mages could accomplish.”
Becha lowered his head, conceding the point. Then he signaled to a passing demon and asked for refreshments for the mages. No one would be rude enough to say no.
Saka wasn’t hungry, but he wouldn’t turn down the hospitality. He was trying to gather allies and assess numbers. He was sure that was what other mages would be doing too. As much as he loved coming to Lifeblood, this year there was less joy, and it wasn’t only affecting him.
“Your head is heavy with thought, Saka,” Guda said.
“I don’t know if my thoughts are tidy enough to be told.” He wasn’t going to embarrass himself with half-formed ideas like a child. A mage was supposed to be able to order and present ideas.
“I am interested if it involves warlocks and bringing back magic… we need it, and as you have said, a willing human sits better within.” Guda tapped her chest.
“An unwilling human bleeds fear, which is just as powerful,” Becha countered.
“But once trapped here, they lose their potency,” Guda said. She was the most senior mage in their small group.
They all knew that she was right. A willing human on the other side of the void could rebalance the magic for the rest of his or her life.
“Very well. Angus, my warlock, made a comment that has stuck like a thorn. He said it would be better if all warlocks spent time here to learn about magic so they could see it.”
“What? They do not see magic?” Lox’s tail flicked in surprise. “How do they know what they are doing?”
“They do not, or they would see the damage,” Becha replied.
Most mages had never been across the void. In the same way Saka could sense the void opening and had felt the call of the warlocks summoning a demon and accepted it, most mages turned it away from them so they wouldn’t suffer at the hands of a warlock. It also meant that they didn’t know their enemy the way Saka and the few like him did.
“It is not visible on that side of the void. So if they could see magic, they would learn faster, but also learn the truth.” Guda saw immediately where Saka was going. “The flaw is that once here, they could not leave.”
“Not on their own, but at the end of the time, the void could be opened by someone on the other side and they could return,” Saka said.
“And while here they rebalance.” It was obvious that Becha could see the advantage. “I don’t know a lot about warlocks, but I suspect they will not agree. They do not retrieve all who come here accidentally.”
Some humans were sent here to die, an offering that was no longer enough to rebalance what the warlocks were taking.
“You would be correct.” It was always polite to acknowledge a truth preceded by the admission that it was a guess. That showed both humility and a sharp mind. Becha and Lox were both younger than him. Maybe it was the younger mages who would be more willing to try something dangerous instead of going back to the old ways of grabbing humans every time the void was opened. “I was thinking of the underground.”
There was silence for a while. Saka knew his idea wasn’t well enough formed to be shared.
Becha poured watered-down wine and offered the plate of dried fruit and cheese. Instead of talking and rushing to respond, each mage took their time to think. If his own thoughts had been clearer and his mind more certain, perhaps they would’ve formed their response faster.
The shade of the tree moved, sliding around as the afternoon edged closer to dusk. While the mages were silent, the camp they were near wasn’t. Children raced around, chasing pets and livestock. Those children had never seen a real rainy season. They didn’t know that their world had once been more blue than red. That there had been swathes of vegetation that followed the rivers. For most of those children, a surface river was a novelty.
People sang more out of habit than out of need. There were too many people for a riverwyrm to attack—they hated noise and always attacked the isolated heartbeat. No one ever wandered from their tribe alone, not even the airborne hunters. The scents of cooking started to reach them. A hint of something spicy, the deeper taste of boiled ynns. Even the staples of their diet were becoming hard to grow because there was no river to plant them by. Usually a tribe would plant when they left so
there would be more for the next people. That was becoming harder to do.
Would they even be able to leave Lifeblood?
While everyone loved coming here, this many people in one location would cause friction.
Last year some tribes had decided to head for the coast. Last he had heard, several months ago, they had reached it. Had they prospered? They wouldn’t be coming back to Lifeblood this year. Saka returned his attention to the very serious-looking mages sitting with him. While it was nice to wait for perfectly formed ideas and ideal times, perhaps those times were over. Now was a period of quick action, where daring and bravery were rewarded like the heroes of old who had fought with the humans hundreds of years ago.
Finally Guda spoke. “It is an interesting concept, one that should be debated with other mages. One that I should perhaps take to the underground?”
Saka nodded. He was hoping that Angus would end up in the underground. Was he pushing too much, instead of letting Angus find his way? Possibly, but time was something he no longer had.
“That would be appreciated. For it to work, they would need willing students and we would need willing teachers.” He glanced at Lox and Becha.
Both were thinking.
Taking on a wizard—even if they were part of the underground and had a mutual interest in the equitable use of magic so two worlds weren’t destroyed—was entirely different than getting mixed up with college-educated warlocks.
Becha spread his hands. “In theory it is a fine idea.”
Many things appeared to be good ideas until put into practice. The warlocks must have realized their error at some point but had too much hubris to admit it and make corrections. Here if a mage had done that, he’d have been tied to a stake and left for scarlips or riverwyrms.
Pride was dangerous. It led to mistakes that could wipe out a whole tribe.
“Student of mine, I would like a word.” Guda remained sitting, so Lox and Becha made their excuses and left.
Saka sipped his wine, expecting her to tell him off for speaking. She didn’t, though. She was still looking thoughtful.
“Your idea comes late.”
“I have only been working with Angus a short while. He has an untrained mind full of unusual ideas.” Truthfully he didn’t know if the underground would be willing even to consider such a proposal. There was too much trust required. Just because the underground didn’t want Demonside destroyed, didn’t mean that they were on the demons’ side. The increase in magic on that side of the void was also affecting their world.
“That is the joy of youth. It is why taking an apprentice is a good thing, Saka.” Guda had been trying to convince him for over a decade to take an apprentice.
“My hands are full with warlocks.”
“Is that all?”
“There is an affection. I have perhaps spent too much time around warlocks.” Saka knew that there were mages who thought less of him for that, while at the same time being glad that he had volunteered so they didn’t have to.
“Perhaps. It makes your opinion unusual, and that scares some. How many mages have warlocks now?”
“A dozen, I believe.” There had been a few mages to step forward to get a warlock. The rest had been accidental because the mage hadn’t been quick enough to turn away from the opening in the void. “I do not know if they are underground or college, though.”
“I suspect that many wouldn’t say because it is dangerous to be a warlock and underground supporter. Most warlocks were college trained before finding a better way. Still a dozen is an increase.”
“Not enough.” Change would only come when more mages took the chance to get a warlock.
“No. But mages do not need a warlock if they take a human apprentice.” Guda tilted her head. “It may be more palatable to those who would like to keep their freedom.”
“We all make sacrifices. Some choose what they will be.” Saka shrugged.
“I will take your idea to my warlock. She has influence in the underground. If we can get agreement from them, it will make our argument more persuasive.” Guda sighed and paused to gather her thoughts. Saka didn’t interrupt. She lifted her head and spoke firmly. “I request your presence tonight for a ritual.”
That was part invitation and part order.
“Gladly. It would be an honor.” Saka lowered his head. Being asked to assist in opening the proceeding on Lifeblood was an honor. Why had Guda thought he would need the order to agree?
“You would not say that if you let me finish. I have been gifted two humans for wetting the sand.”
Despite the heat from the sun reflecting off the sand and the warmth of the rock he was sitting on, Saka shivered.
“They are ill and dying, so they have donated their lives. They are willing.”
Saka nodded. He trusted Guda’s word on that. She didn’t like the idea of taking human slaves any more than he did. He needed to be there tonight as it would be seen as a sign of strength even though he was arguing for change and refusing to go back to the old ways.
“I will be voting for the sacrifices.”
“So will I. There is no other choice. I hope to buy time.”
Saka laughed. “That is never for purchase.”
Chapter Nineteen
Angus stared at his magical theory homework. He knew what he was supposed to be learning, but it didn’t fit with what he already knew. He’d struggled with the theory the whole time he’d been at college because it hadn’t made sense to him. The lecturer said that innate ability wouldn’t be enough for him to pass.
Because of his trip to Demonside, he was being watched more closely. Because he’d been trying to fail before that unexpected visit, he had months of bad marks to try to fix. If he did get kicked out, at least he’d be able to join the underground properly instead of pretending that he was a real warlock and biting his tongue every time another student said something about demons that wasn’t right, or worse one of the teachers. He didn’t know if they believed the lies or were just ignorant. Either option was bad.
The library was quiet. Around him second-year students were studying for their upcoming midyear exams. At least in second year, he’d be able to summon Saka without supervision. While he understood the need for care, especially if the demon was a wild animal, the restriction made his life extra dangerous.
He’d spoken to Jim a couple of times, but they hadn’t met since that night at the bar. His father would no doubt be angry that he’d even done that. Jim had been considered a very bad influence, which had made dating him all the more fun. It was a good thing that his father had no idea just how bad Jim was. It was one thing to associate with a lowly wizard, but another entirely if that wizard was in the underground. While it wasn’t called a criminal organization, they were considered to be antagonistic and full of lies according to the college.
Occasionally there would be news reports of a raid on the underground and the arrest of rogue warlocks—who no doubt ended up in Demonside with a minimal trial. More frequently there were reports of things blamed on the underground. Now Angus wasn’t so sure that the underground was doing half the things they were accused of doing. If the college lied about demons running amok, it wouldn’t be hard to lie about the underground.
Ellis’s warning about not contacting anyone in the underground directly had stayed with him, even though he couldn’t remember who Ellis was. He knew it had been another mind-tampering spell. This time it was probably for his own good.
He refocused on the page in front of him. He was supposed to be looking up references for an essay. It was exceedingly hard to do when he didn’t agree with the topic and even some of the books didn’t support it. But then he had selected older books because he’d been hoping to find something outside what the lecturer was teaching. There must have been a point where magic was more freely examined and contemplated, before the rigid structure and training were enforced.
“You will never pass theory if you are reading Henkins et al. H
e was controversial two decades ago,” said a dark-haired guy as he sat opposite Angus.
Erikson. Angus swallowed. Why was he here? Was he watching and reporting?
“Terrance Erikson, third year and your new tutor.” He offered his hand.
Angus shook it because refusing would be rude at best and suspicious at worst. They had never officially met, but Angus was well aware of who he was—and not just because of the common room incident. There were some men who were always going to be out of reach, but that had never stopped Angus from looking. Terrance was handsome. He looked as though he should be working on a farm, not studying the finer points of magic. Big strong hands and broad shoulders. He could probably fight off most demons without breaking a sweat.
Angus swallowed again before finding his voice. “My father that concerned about me failing?”
If that was all his father was worried about, that would be a good thing. Better for him to worry about Angus’s grades than his views on magic and his closer-than-safe dealings with his demon. But the last thing he needed was an official watchdog trailing him.
“Your father and others. We have mutual friends.” Terrance’s smile widened.
On another day, and if his life wasn’t already so complicated, Angus would’ve welcomed the attention. Terrance had a very nice smile. Now all he wanted to do was run.
Was this the liaison that the underground had promised, or was this a test from a suspicious warlock?
“Let’s leave the books. Walk with me.” Terrance closed the textbooks Angus had been reading and stood. He was right; he wouldn’t pass if he quoted from those books since their theories had fallen out of favor.
Angus packed up his things, shoved them into his bag, and followed—still unsure if it was a setup or an offer of help. They went outside. It was dusk, and the air was cold and damp. It would be snowing soon, and they were predicting another long winter, the same as last year. It felt like there had hardly been any summer.
There were warlocks supposedly working on the weather, but using magic to fix a problem caused by too much magic didn’t seem like the right approach. Unless there was something he was missing. Which he probably was, even though he was reading more news from official and unofficial sources.