The Painter Mage: Books 1-3

by D. K. Holmberg

  I debated taking the time to make a more complicated pattern. The more complexity in the pattern, the less power I needed to fuel it. That was the reason painters like Taylor were so powerful. They didn’t need the same draw as someone like me because they could make much more delicate and intricate patterns. It made them stronger.

  A powerful blast hit the door. Dirt kicked up, spilling through the cracks of the door. I back up and Devan grabbed me, pulling me along with her.

  “Time to go below?” she asked.

  “Fine. But Taylor needs to add another barrier before we reach that level.”

  “You think she can add anything your father couldn’t do?”

  “I don’t think it would hurt,” I said, hurrying down the tunnel.

  When we entered the main room of the lower portion of the shed, I paused and looked around. The tables remained bare. When I first had come down here, there had been other items in various states of completion. Mostly sculptures, as if my father had been working on another set of statues. There was the cabinet that held the small figures I now knew to be magical creatures held in some sort of stasis prison, the frosted-glass doors locked. I suspected there were other protections built into the glass, though hadn’t really taken the time to determine whether that was true. The original crystal orb remained locked away, with only the gold key as the means to access it. Now that I understood the power of the orb, I made certain to keep the key on me at all times, ensuring no one else could get to it. I was afraid to even touch the crystal ball. There was a tremendous amount of power trapped within it, the full extent of which was still unknown.

  Taylor stood in the middle of the room, slowly spinning in place. Her eyes were wide and there was a naked hunger visible on her face. “This is a place of the Elder,” she said. “He made all of this. Everything that’s here.”

  I glanced at the walls. Other shelves had more mundane things. One had what appeared to be a wrench. Another shelf held a wig of all things. There was an old tin can holding nearly a dozen paintbrushes, the tips of the brushes twisted into fine points. I’d found some paint my father had mixed and made sure to put that inside a locked case, as well. My father might not consider paint to be all that valuable, but there was something about the fact that he had been the one to mix it. At some point, I might need to be able to use it.

  I stopped at the cabinet holding the figurines. The lock, a symbol of a pyramid surrounded by circles and stars, kept each shelf locked. I touched the gold key to the lock and it sprang open. I set the cylinder on the shelf next to one of the figures, before thinking better of it and moving it to the top of the cabinet. For some reason, I didn’t want to put it in the cabinet with the figurines, but I needed it well hidden. If we didn’t make it out of here, I didn’t want the Nizashi getting that cylinder, whatever it was.

  A series of sealed jars on the top of the shelf nearest Taylor drew her attention. She reached for them, and I grabbed her wrist, pulling her back and away from the shelving. “Don’t. This isn’t some sort of museum for you to check out.”

  “These are important, Oliver. If these really are all the Elder’s belongings, they need to be studied.”

  I snorted. “Like in Arcanus? The place you’re so eager to return to? You think they’ll know what to do with something like this?” I grabbed one of the figures off the unlocked shelf. It was shaped like a man carrying a pair of crossed swords, a sneer spread across his face. Had I thought my father actually carved it, I would have believed the level of detail to be amazing. Now that I knew what they were, I was a little disgusted even holding it.

  Devan reached and took the figure from me and set it back on the shelf with more delicacy than I would have. “Careful there, Ollie. You know what that is.”

  Taylor watched as Devan locked the figurine back into the cabinet. “That’s one of…those?”

  “Yeah, and if you thought the Arcanus masters would be upset about your mods, what would happen when they learned the Elder has kept a little magical prison in Conlin? Would they be thrilled with that?”

  A loud explosion rocked the shed, accentuating my words.

  Some of the rock from the walls of the open area crumbled slightly, but nothing more than that. A hint of smoke rose in the air, growing thicker as we waited.

  “Still think it’s better to be down here?” I asked Devan.

  “We can deal with a little smoke,” she said.

  “Well, you know what they say about smoke.”

  “They can’t burn down something the Elder protected,” Taylor said.

  “No, but they can burn around it.” Part of me expected the Nizashi to somehow draw the air out of here. If they knew how far underground we were, they might understand that there wasn’t much airflow designed into the lower level of the shed. I doubt my father thought that this place would ever get smoked out.

  “Damn, I really wish Jakes had been willing to help out,” I muttered. “We’re either going to roast down here or choke to death on the smoke. Either option isn’t all that appealing.”

  “Maybe you were right,” Devan said.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “I said maybe you were right. What, couldn’t you hear me?”

  “I heard you just fine, it was nice to hear you say it again.”

  “Idiot,” she muttered.

  The smoke billowing down toward us moved in a definite direction. Heat hung with it, but there was something else… almost like a charge to the air that burned as we breathed. “Shit, not just smoke. Looks like the Nizashi intend to poison us, as well,” I said.

  I realized what the Nizashi were doing. I kind of had to respect them for their creativity. They might not be able to reach us, but they recognized that we had to breathe, which meant that air had to get to us. If air could get to us, so could the smoke or whatever they charged it with.

  I hurried to the opening of the room leading up and into the upper part of the shed. With a pinch of brown ink, I crafted an edge, just enough to pull the air out and push it back up to the top of the shed. It wouldn’t hold for long—maybe long enough to keep us alive—and we’d have to worry about running out of clean air.

  “What are you doing?” Taylor asked.

  “What I need to do to keep us alive,” I said. “Can’t you feel it?”

  She frowned. “Feel what?”

  “It’s not only about making the air warmer. They’re adding something to it. Whatever they’re burning is caustic.” I paused, my hand still resting on the cement as I traced another symbol to add to the others, glancing over at Devan. “I can’t believe your boyfriend would let them do something like that to his lawn. I figured him for a protective sort of shifter.”

  Devan glared at me. “Maybe he hasn’t marked this part of the yard as his yet,” she snapped.

  I finished the pattern and stayed on my hands and knees. I pressed power through the pattern, staring at it as I did. With a flash, the air ignited, burning up and away from the lower part of the shed, leaving us unharmed. The air got hotter for a moment, but it passed quickly.

  “Can you find us another way out?” I asked Devan.

  She stopped and glared at me from where she had been looking around the shelving. “What do you think I’ve been doing? I’m not just standing here looking nice.”

  “I would never say that.”

  She made as if she might flip me off. It had the same meaning on the other side of the Threshold. Before she had the chance, the air thundered again, and smoke started billowing back down toward us. It hit the barrier from the pattern I’d made and stopped.

  “Well, I wasn’t sure that would work,” I said.

  “But you’ve basically trapped us here, making it so that the only way we can get out of this tomb is to go back through the poison cloud,” Taylor said.

  “I can’t find anything, Ollie,” Devan said.

  I turned and looked over my father’s little storehouse. I hadn’t really expected to find another
way out, and I really had been stupid enough to think we might hunker down until the attack was over. Without Jakes and the shifters, there wasn’t much we could do. We’d either run out of air because I’d pulled too much away keeping the poison out of here, or my protection would fail and the heat and poison in the air would burn us to death. Neither was a great way to go.

  And if I did nothing, Devan wouldn’t survive this attack. I’d promised I’d keep her safe, and I was damn well not going to let that happen again.

  Devan watched me, concern in her eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid, Ollie,” she said.

  I looked up the ramp and shook my head. There wasn’t much else I could do. “Hey, keep her safe,” I said to Taylor.

  I grabbed a pair of charms out of my pockets, took a deep breath, and plunged forward, running past the protection I’d placed over the entrance to the storeroom.

  The cloud hit me with immediate pain. The heat made my skin burn, pulling the flesh of my cheeks tight and drawing the moisture from my mouth. The poison in the air burned my eyes. I held my breath as I ran, moving as quickly as I could.

  When I reached the upper level of the shed, I paused long enough to listen for anything that might be on the other side of the door. Energy and power hummed in the air, like a high-voltage line running just out of reach. Fear pulsed through me, nearly enough to keep me from going forward another step, but then my chest began to burn from the effort of holding my breath. If I didn’t go any further, Devan and Taylor would suffer. At least this way, I might buy them time. Hell, I might even get lucky and scare the Nizashi away. If not, well, I’d do all that I could first.

  I clutched the two charms tightly, one in each hand. In my left was the Agony charm. I figured it would give me a moment—maybe all I needed—to use the new one Devan had made me. It was the souped-up, three-chamber version, each filled with black ink. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need all of them. I hadn’t had the chance to try it out. Devan worked wonders, so I didn’t really doubt that it would fire, but it would have been nice to have had the chance to test it first.

  Before I passed out from holding my breath, I kicked the door open.

  The other side looked like something out of an action movie. Fire burned along the edge of the shed, reaching along the walls, but not quite burning it. As soon as the door opened, the flames tried reaching in toward me, but the pattern I’d placed before held.

  I jumped into the night, plunging through the flames.

  A shadow moved, and I turned toward it. A Nizashi moved quickly, enhanced by natural speed and the gift of whatever they had done twisting their power to make them nearly indestructible. He must have thought I needed him to stay in place in order for my pattern to work. Lucky for me, the Nizashi didn’t know quite how Devan’s charms worked.

  I triggered the Agony charm.

  I’d only used it once before, and that was on the night when I first met Taylor. I hadn’t known about Jakes or the shifters or anything about what they did in Conlin. I didn’t even know much about my father—still don’t, I suppose. When I had used it then, I’d needed time to reach the house and had prayed I could get an explosion of about one hundred feet. It had given me twice that. This time, I needed only about fifty.

  Powder exploded from the charm.

  Another shadow appeared, this one close. I couldn’t wait to press my will through the ink. I reached for as much power as I could and infused the powder.

  A fireball raced from me, filling the night, pressing a massive, concussive blast out and away from me. “Cool,” I said, wishing someone else had been around to see that. I mean, how often do you really get to blow shit up like that?

  The explosion caught at least one of the Nizashi. I heard it hit, slamming into him and sending him flying, landing with a loud thud somewhere out in the yard. I held the other charm out from me, waving it in a circle, ready to fire as soon as I could get the fix on where the other Nizashi might be. I’d seen him, so I knew he was nearby, but I couldn’t find him.

  The flames died down around me, leaving my eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. I walked an ever-widening circle around where I’d come out of the shed, but still didn’t find the second assassin. Then, when I thought I should be coming upon the one I knew I’d hit, I heard a muffled cry behind me.

  I turned quickly. Devan stared at me with wide eyes. Taylor stood next to her, arms behind her back, the circle she’d made around them barely holding. A thin man, barely more than five-six, with close-shorn hair, stood next to Devan, but he looked at Taylor, anger hot in his eyes.

  “Hey,” I said.

  I pointed the charm at him and fired. As the ink left the charm, I pressed will and power into it, not daring to wait too long. The explosion from it pushed me back. I felt it as Taylor pressed power and will through the protection around them. When the attack hit the Nizashi, he simply deflected it away from him and into the shed.

  Well, shit. That was seriously impressive.

  I triggered it again. If it failed, I only had one more remaining. Without waiting, I triggered it a third time. If I ended up finding the third assassin lying somewhere in Jakes’s lawn, I’d have to come up with another way to immobilize him. For now, it was about surviving and keeping my friends safe.

  With a surge of power—very nearly the last I had remaining—the two shots exploded.

  Taylor’s protection fell. I should have thought about the effect my pattern would have on hers. Mine was force and power, more than her simple circle could withstand. The Nizashi seemed to catch the shots and tossed them harmlessly away. One went over his shoulder while the other went into the ground.

  That was about all I had. I could use the remaining charms to throw up protective patterns, but that wouldn’t help Devan. I could see in her eyes that she already knew.

  It left only one thing to do.

  I ran at the Nizashi.

  I don’t think he expected that. They were magical assassins, used to dealing with people like me, people possessing power and skill, but of the magical variety. I came at him with nothing more than my body, and I towered over him, a good seven inches and probably seventy pounds. Not all muscle, but it would do the job if I managed to collide with him.

  The Nizashi recovered quickly and slid to the side. I might have the height and weight, but he had the speed. I was all lumbering bull, but he was agile.

  I careened off his arm. At least I clipped him. It knocked him back, away from Devan and Taylor and into the shed.

  It’s not that I thought he could do much in the shed, but I didn’t really want him there around everything of my father’s. Reaching for one of my charms, I pressed it out and toward where he’d disappeared. Then came a soft click as it fired.

  I didn’t have much strength remaining. After using the fireball and the triple shooter, pulling anything of much power would be challenging. My body quivered at the thought of trying anything at all, but one look at Devan and Taylor squeezed together in Taylor’s protective circle, and I knew I had to try.

  The circle of ink from the charm surged with power. And light. Devan’s charms hadn’t done that before, but then I hadn’t tried this particular one. Each one was a little different. With Devan adding a few flourishes every so often, there was the potential for new and unexpected outcomes. There wasn’t anyone else I’d trust to make a charm for me, either.

  The circle from the charm caught the Nizashi. He stood in the middle of it with a line of gardening tools behind him. The contrast brought an amused smile to my lips. Maybe he’ll do Jakes the favor of cleaning up his lawn for him.

  Power built in rapid succession, each time slamming against the circle. The first time nearly knocked me to my knees. The second time did. By the third assault, I nearly collapsed to the ground the pain was so intense. It burned through me, leaving me feeling raw.

  Another attack, and I’d be useless. The Nizashi knew it.

  As the power built for his final assault, I staggered toward him,
reaching for a shovel hanging nearby as I crossed into the circle of ink made by the charm. The Nizashi moved toward me, quick as a snake, but I swung with everything I had left. The shovel struck him along the arm, and sent him spinning around, pirouetting like he hung from a string. I didn’t give him the chance to recover, and swung again. This time, it hit him in the head, knocking him to the ground. A trail of blood ran from his head.

  A muffled cry caused me to jerk around. I stumbled out of the shed, still clutching the shovel. The other Nizashi was there, already pounding against the barrier Taylor was still able to sustain. The woman was tall and lanky, making her unlike any of the other Te’alan I’d ever seen. Devan stared at her with eyes wide with shock but had the presence of mind to stay tucked back, away from the edge of the circle where the Nizashi might reach her. Taylor wouldn’t have much strength remaining, not with the way the Nizashi’s attacks were assaulting her.

  I tried swinging the shovel, but I was pretty weak from everything I’d been through already. The Nizashi threw me to the side almost casually. She glanced at me, but with a sort of contempt you’d use when looking at a rat digging through your garbage.

  “Taylor, you’ve got to do something,” I shouted.

  I lunged forward and swung again, but this time, the Nizashi caught the shovel and threw it behind her, leaving me empty-handed and staring at her. I fumbled for a charm when her attack struck, throwing me back with enough force to knock the wind out of me. It seemed like I’d been through this before.

  The circle around Taylor and Devan held, but I didn’t think it would hold for much longer. Taylor’s face contorted under the strain of holding it, as each blow from the Nizashi inflicted immense pain. Devan couldn’t do much more than watch. She stared at the Nizashi, staying as close to Taylor as she could, her skin glowing softly with a yellow light. My medallion pulsed with biting cold. I wondered what else Devan might be doing.

  A steady thump, thump, thump echoed from along the fence.

  I crawled toward Devan and Taylor, ignoring the crazy sounds, wishing Jakes hadn’t left us alone to face this nightmare. Could he really let the Nizashi take Devan? Was he really that afraid of upsetting the Trelking?