“It’s more than that. Lukas splintered my Family, and I fear that was just the beginning. Everything that happens after today—the pain, the loss, the bloodshed—it will all be because of me.”
Allyn opened his mouth to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, but he was interrupted by Nyla returning with Jaxon.
Jaxon wore his usual loose-fitting brown cotton pants and a sleeveless black leather vest that exposed his powerful build. With alert eyes, Jaxon didn’t look like a man who’d been asleep.
Does anyone sleep around here?
He nodded to Allyn as he entered, then stood at the edge of Graeme’s desk. Nyla returned to her chair.
“We’re going to strike Lukas’s compound,” Graeme said. “Tonight. Lukas has no doubt heard of the failed attack at the Hyland Estate and knows there will be repercussions, so time is of the essence. He will expect me to round the Families up against him, build an alliance. He will believe he has time. He doesn’t. If we strike tonight and catch him by surprise, we will have the advantage.”
“What is our objective?” Jaxon asked.
“His sister,” Graeme said with a nod in Allyn’s direction. “I made him a promise—help me discover why Lukas wants him, and I’d help get his sister back. He’s held up his end of the deal, and now it’s my turn.” If Jaxon disapproved, he didn’t show it. “I may have also given Lukas information about our mole,” Graeme added with a wince.
“How?” Jaxon asked.
“I didn’t realize it at the time, but Darian was probing for information. I said too much, and he inferred the rest. Lukas will begin questioning immediately.”
“He’ll also be looking to flee,” Jaxon said. “If he hasn’t done so already.”
“Another cause for speed,” Graeme said.
“Then it’s decided,” Jaxon said. “We go in tonight.”
“It’s decided.”
It feels good to be alone, Liam thought. The library was empty in the early morning, just him and his books. Other than Nyla, who had only recently begun digging through the histories, nobody spent time in the library. It was the only place in the manor that was truly his. Even though Allyn had helped for a time, he was likely asleep, recovering. Things were returning to normal, and that was great as far as Liam was concerned.
The purified air, dry and odorless, smelled of musty paper when he cracked an old book open. Liam imagined libraries on the outside, several stories high with floors and floors holding thousands of books, newspapers, and magazines. He wondered if they smelled like his library. One day, he would find out for himself. He would walk the aisles, picking up random books, skimming the pages to see what secrets they held, spending days and weeks within the majestic library walls.
Some day.
Some day after he finished his work. The book in front of him was the next in the long line to be digitally transcribed and salvaged for future magi generations. The words flowed from the page, through his fingers, and onto the screen. Liam paid them little attention, occasionally checking his work for spelling errors or missing words. He didn’t fix “mistakes” in the original text because preserving the original text was important. Sure, he could have used a high-end scanner and scanned the pages into the computer. It would have been a lot faster, but doing so would bypass his internal search and tagging programs that allowed him to pull up specific information and related material within seconds—as long as he knew what to look for. And every now and then, something would catch his eye—a heroic story, a gut-wrenching struggle, an interesting piece of information previously unknown within the magi community. Scanning might have been easier, but this way was more fulfilling and turned him into the most knowledgeable young magi in all the Families. It was a nice side effect. He smiled at the thought.
That will be my life’s work. He would finish digitizing his own library, improve its search and tagging capabilities, and then move on to the next Family’s library and do the same. He would work alone because that was the way he worked. People wouldn’t tell him he was avoiding them anymore. They wouldn’t tell him that he was antisocial or call him a hermit. They would just leave him to his work because it was important. And if they wanted to talk, or if they needed his help, they knew where to find him.
By the time he was done, every Family’s library would be preserved for future generations. When he was done, he might link the information together on a central server somewhere, so that anyone in the magi community could have access to any Family’s library whenever they wanted. They would thank him and honor him with the title “The Librarian,” and nobody would remember that he was the only son of a grand mage who couldn’t wield.
But all of that started with the open book in front of him, so he kept working. Yes, he thought, it feels good to be back.
Liam was finished with almost half of it when the door opened. He didn’t know how long he’d been working or what time it was—time had a way of disappearing in the library—but if the dark circles around his father’s eyes were any indication, it was still early, not even a full day since the attack.
He was alone, which was strange. After recent occurrences, he expected Jaxon or Leira to be with his father at all times. And where was Allyn? Liam hadn’t seen him since they’d returned to the manor—not that he had sought him out, either.
Since Allyn had learned that Liam couldn’t wield, something had changed between them. The image of Allyn’s face would be forever burned into his memory. It was an expression his father had the grace to hide, but no doubt felt—an expression of disappointment. Why would Allyn care so much anyway? It was none of his business. Liam hadn’t told him he couldn’t wield. But why should I? Some things didn’t need to be common knowledge.
“We need your help, Liam,” his father said.
There’s a first! “With what?”
“I need you to search the archives and find any mention of twins. Who they were, what they did, rare abilities, anything odd or out of the ordinary.”
“For what?”
“There’s no time to explain right now. Do you think you can do that?”
Liam shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.”
His father nodded approvingly. “How long do you need?”
“A couple hours, maybe longer. It depends how deep you want the search to go.”
“I want everything.”
“Then the more time, the better.”
Graeme nodded. “Thank you. Call for me as soon as you find something. Anything.”
“Okay.”
Graeme turned to go but stopped at the door. “And Liam? Best we keep this between us, okay?”
Liam nodded, and his father left, leaving him to his self-imposed seclusion. Twins? That was the best they could come up with? It was busywork, of course. His father meant to keep him occupied and out of the loop while the rest of them did something important. Probably something to retaliate against the Hyland Family. He’d proven how worthless he was outside the library, so they would do whatever possible to keep him cooped up. He ignored the order and returned to the work in front of him. He would eventually do as his father asked, but it would be done on his own time. If anyone asked how it was coming along, he would just say that it was a complicated search, but he was making progress.
They wouldn’t know any better.
A hushed silence fell over the manor as word spread of the ambush at the Hyland Estate. War was coming. No longer a distant threat, it had arrived, and people were going to die. Preparations began, not in the form of a call to arms of battle preparations—the manor was already in full lockdown and had been since Allyn’s arrival. No, these were emotional preparations between loved ones—extra hugs, loving looks, even a few tears when nobody was supposed to be watching.
Goodbyes.
Allyn kept his head low as h
e left Graeme’s study. The normal quiet, laid-back atmosphere had transformed into an active swarm of intense looks. Hushed whispers became shouts and walking turned to running as peace was replaced by war. His war. The mothers, fathers, husbands, and wives preparing for death would do so because of him. He didn’t want them to see the guilt in his eyes, because while a somber mood hung over the manor like an Oregon winter, Allyn’s insides roared with excitement.
By this time tomorrow, Kendyl will be safe.
Allyn bit the insides of his cheeks, fighting the smile that threatened to spread across his face. This wasn’t a time to smile. He nodded to a pair of magi rounding the corner. They were in the middle of a conversation and didn’t stop or acknowledge Allyn. How long has it been? Allyn asked himself. Two weeks? Even after they’d grown distant, he hadn’t gone that long without seeing Kendyl. Since when? Her vacation?
“Not a trip,” she had told him. “A once-in-a-lifetime trip.” But even then, they had spoken to each other almost every night. She would tell him of her travels, the interesting towns, and amusing locals, all the while ridiculing him for not going with her. She called him old.
“Not old,” he told her. “Responsible.”
“Same thing,” she said. Allyn imagined her sticking her tongue out for effect. After their mother’s death, they each collected survivor’s benefits until they turned nineteen and drew from the remaining money in her life insurance. He had used it to attend college, but Kendyl had planned a sprawling three-continent, four-month backpacking trip. “What better way to celebrate Mother’s life than by doing everything she never got to do?” she had asked him.
“By earning a degree that will allow me to give back for my entire life.” What he didn’t tell her was how tempted he was to join her. In truth, he envied her ability to focus on the present, not years down the road. While he had the career, the car, and the condo, she had the fun. She had the memories. We could each die tonight, and she would have lived the fuller life.
He trembled at the thought. The possibility of that outcome had never entered his mind. He always believed she would return safely. On two separate occasions, Graeme and Jaxon had told him that he’d entered a dangerous world, but until the recent ambush, he’d never felt it.
It won’t come to that. We have a good plan and the advantage. Graeme was planning to strike that night, under the cover of darkness and, Allyn hoped, in surprise. Graeme had mobilized every magi available, calling on every magi and cleric in the manor to be prepared, and used others already out on Family business to spread misinformation. Some would tell of a future strike, others of Graeme not attacking at all, while more would spread talk of an attempt to form a Grand Coalition. As information rolled in via Lukas’s spies, so would the varying reports. Lukas wouldn’t know what to expect, so Graeme said Lukas would prepare for everything except for what they would actually do—strike before those preparations became reality.
Allyn entered his room and closed the door and curtains, shutting himself away from the world. He had his own plans to make. The conflict was about to blow up into full-scale war, and he had no intention of being around for it. He and Kendyl needed to be long gone by the time anyone noticed they were missing. They couldn’t go home, not if they intended to get away. They needed to vanish. Maybe he could take her back to Europe, meet her friends, see the sights, and heal by getting away from it all. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was a start. But first, he needed to get Kendyl out—alive.
Chapter 14
Jarrell Hartline marched through the concrete corridors of the compound with Lukas’s other followers. Whispers and rumors spread through the disorderly group like dandelions in an overgrown field. Darian Hyland had attempted to capture Graeme McCollum and Kendyl’s brother, Allyn. The young fool was unsuccessful, and a handful of his Family was dead, but nobody knew if Lukas had ordered the attack.
“Graeme is building a coalition.”
“He says he won’t retaliate. He doesn’t want a war.”
“I heard he was already planning a strike.”
Each person said something different, something that contradicted what the last person had said. Jarrell wanted to laugh. They were clueless. Lukas was too. Unless he’s marshaling us together to address the rumors and tell us what’s really going on.
They entered the cafeteria—a large open room with a matching concrete floor and walls unadorned with decorations. The tables were pushed against the walls, chairs resting on top, keeping the center of the room open. Bare but functional, nothing flashy—that was Lukas. He was about structure, strength, and unity. Most of the Family had already arrived, leaving Jarrell at the back of the room, struggling to see over the rest. He pulled his glasses off and breathed onto the lenses, then rubbed them clean with the hem of his shirt. More than one person asked what was going on, but most waited patiently, at least as patiently as could be expected. Answers were coming. Why else would they have been summoned there?
Lukas entered a few minutes later, accompanied by his two bodyguards. Kaleb, the younger of the two, strutted beside his leader, a wicked grin on his face as if he reveled in knowing something the rest didn’t. Reyland, always expressionless, stalked on the other side of him, his back straight, eyes darting, and muscles tight, ready to strike. He wasn’t just a man prepared for a fight. He was a man looking for one.
Ever present, Kendyl brought up the rear. Silently pleading for help, her eyes flickered toward Jarrell as they always did when he was near. He’d offered it, but had so far been unable to make good on his promise. He had to be patient and wait for the right time. Jarrell looked away, in part because it made him feel helpless, but also because those pleading eyes might lead to unpleasant questions. She didn’t look at anyone else like that. She didn’t so much as make eye contact with anyone else. If someone was paying attention… the weight of her gaze subsided as she passed, its incrimination staved off for another time.
Lukas leaped onto a table at the far end of the room, and the crowd fell quiet. He stood silently, scanning the crowd. “Here we are. Look around. The men and women standing beside you are the men and women who are going to change the world. Men and women who already courageously stood with me and left behind a philosophy that saw our numbers decline year after year, decade after decade, generation after generation. The same men and women who are willing to stand, willing to fight, willing to die so that this philosophy is replaced by one that not only ensures the survival of the magi race but one where it thrives. One where we don’t have to cower or hide. One where we can once again be proud of who we are and what we can do. You are the men and women of change.”
He fell silent again, watching the audience. He exhaled, and his voice took on a somber tone. “So it pains me to inform you that some of those who stood with me, with us, are gone. Slain by the very hands that held us back, by the man who holds a foot at our necks and watches as we suffocate. Graeme has acted against us, without the consent of the very magi Families he suggests we rebel against. He’s a traitor and has always been a traitor, and now his hands are bloody from an unprovoked attack.”
Murmurs spread through the followers, then shouts for action and calls for retaliation. Jarrell shrank back, wishing he could hide. Lukas was inciting a mob whose devastation would be more catastrophic to the stability of the magi community than any other internal conflict. There would be no going back from this. Lukas was placing the blame squarely at Graeme’s feet, and the mob wouldn’t rest until they had spilled his blood.
The provocation was as illogical as it was unfair. The magi numbers had been declining long before Graeme’s rise to power. They’d been declining since the Fracture. He was just the biggest target because he was Lukas’s loudest opposition. Jarrell didn’t stand for everything Graeme believed in, but he didn’t want to see the Families go to war. He worked with Graeme not only because he believed in him but because it
allowed him to keep the peace by bringing balance. Through his information, Graeme could counter Lukas’s moves and ward off war for another day. This business with the Hyland Family was an extension of the truth at best and a complete fabrication at worst.
“But fear not.” Lukas raised a hand, interrupting the growing discussion among the masses. “Our day to right those wrongs is quickly approaching, and to help aid our cause is Darian Hyland and his strongest and most loyal magi.” Lukas pointed to the back of the room, where the young Darian Hyland entered, followed by ten of his magi. They were dressed in black battle attire embroidered with intricate gold patterns along the sleeves and chest. Four clerics wearing similar muted-gray garb made up the rear guard. Applause broke out, and the Hyland Family received pats on the back and nods of encouragement as they strode through the crowd.
Lukas pulled Darian onto the tabletop with him and shook his hand. Darian smiled and said something to him that was too quiet for the crowd to hear. Lukas patted him on the back and gave him a smile of his own. “If any of you have doubts about what I say, I offer Darian Hyland himself as proof.”
Darian stood there, hard and unflinching, silently agreeing with Lukas’s account. He was younger than even Lukas. Even from across the room his pale-blue eyes were striking. If he spoke with the same conviction that his eyes suggested, it was obvious how he’d become the youngest grand mage within the Families. People were born to follow such a man.
“Everything he says is true,” Darian said. “I welcomed Graeme and his Family into my home and offered my assistance. They were looking for something, a book of some kind. When they didn’t find it, they accused me of keeping it from them. Said I hid it. Graeme knows he’s fighting a losing battle. Already, the Families are lining up against him, and he’s becoming desperate. He’s power hungry, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to hold on to what little of it he has left. When I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about, he became violent, attacking my magi. We were forced to protect ourselves, and after a tragic battle where we repelled them from the house, six of my magi and one of my clerics were dead. We’re here not for revenge, but to ensure that no more magi need to die senselessly at the hands of this desperate man.”
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