Trimarked

by C. K. Sorens

  Going with this guy meant he wouldn’t need to steal from the forest patrol’s camp the next day, or risk death by exposure trying to reach that city that might be days of walking away. On the other hand, the guard guys were human, easy enough to sneak around. This dude was a Wizard.

  “Who are you?” Brandt demanded.

  “My name is Tristan.” The calm answer only set Brandt more on edge.

  “How did you find me?”

  “I’ve watched you since your… expulsion yesterday. Quite a field trip you went on. I assume you found out Trifecta is separated by more than just a bubble?”

  Brandt remained silent. This mage had tracked him all day? Not if the polished tops of his shoes told the truth. Brandt was covered in sweat and dirt, himself.

  Tristan sighed. “I see the distrust in your eyes and I suppose it’s warranted. However, remember this, young human. Magic got you out. How do you think you’ll get back in?”

  Brandt released some tension.

  “You can do that?”

  “A tricky question that ultimately ends in a yes.”

  “What if I don’t want to go back? What if I prefer to head to the city?”

  “Then you’ll never get your revenge. Although, that would need to wait until our deal is completed. If you agree to help me.” Tristan unfolded and stepped back to make the gap in tree branches wider.

  “But I don’t have to?”

  “You are a person of choice.” An odd way to answer, but Brandt went with it. At this point, his stomach was trying to strangle him for not taking the gnome up on his offer of food.

  “Okay. Yeah.” Brandt pushed himself up, cramped muscles slowed him. He brushed prickly twigs and damp earth from his jeans as he walked through the space Tristan made. He glanced at the Wizard, took in his narrow height, almost a head above Brandt who was already six three. Brandt had a few pounds more of muscle and fewer years, though, so he liked his chances.

  Once out, the branches sprang back into position, the breeze they created propelled him to follow the man with the flame.

  “Do you know why the barrier exists?”

  “Something about realms competing to be in the same place,” Brandt grumbled with a shrug. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “The goal was to create a passageway, right here, between the realms. Instead, the Veil fought back, and the pathway turned into a trap.” Tristan paused, looked over his shoulder as if waiting for Brandt to participate.

  “Mages, then. Humans would have done it right.”

  The Wizard’s sigh sounded like a disappointed teacher’s. “Please follow along. This is important. I can get you inside. You will owe me a favor.”

  “So tell me what to do. I don’t need a history lesson. Unless you were the one who caused it.” Brandt’s last words burst out on a rush of angry fear just as they brushed across his thoughts. He swallowed hard, as if he might take them back in case this guy became pissed.

  “Current events,” the man corrected with a scowl. “And no, I did not cause it, but it’s important knowledge to have. You must know the nature of something before you can change it.” He stopped and stepped aside. Brandt crashed into an invisible wall. At some point, they’d left the forest for the road, too. Brandt swiped at his nose and turned to glare at the Wizard, but got sidetracked when he saw the Now Leaving Trifecta sign.

  “W-what? How did we get here so fast?”

  “I’m good at making paths, more evidence to show I did not botch this up to create a bubble in the Veil. Now, listen carefully.” Tristan hinged forward, flame held to the side of their faces. “You were born in Trifecta. Your blood has a unique connection to it I can use. I will return you, and you will bring me the one connected to the barrier.”

  “I have business with her, too, but you’ll have her.”

  Unblinking emeralds studied Brandt’s face, weighed his words, analyzed his whole damn worth. Brandt shifted between his feet, uncomfortable under the gaze.

  “She has information I need. I insist our agreement takes precedent.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” Brandt paced away from the man, turned when he felt he’d reached a safe enough distance to glower back, and copied the guy’s infuriating tone. “We both want the bitch who can open the barrier. But I can’t get her until I am in there.” Brandt slapped his palm to the flat air beside him.

  With a shrug, Tristan walked forward and slipped a Bowie knife from a pocket inside his coat. The blade was thick and long, sharp along one length, then a slight curve up the backside, and it had a channel through each side of the middle. The Wizard grabbed Brandt’s hand from where it illustrated Trifecta’s outer boundary. A whispered spell sent the letterman jacket’s sleeve up to his elbow. The Wizard sliced the top of Brandt’s forearm. Blood pooled into the narrow grooves in the metal.

  “Fades!” Brandt yanked away. His old man beat him up, sure, but he’d never been cut open. He debated throwing an elbow at his attacker, dropping him to his knees and then knocking a fist into his temple.

  “Relax. It’s shallow, not to mention necessary.”

  Tristan found the place Brandt had smacked, and slammed the bloodied blade straight through, in line with the yellow dashes on the pavement. The barrier gave, sliced without a ripple. The tall man nodded with satisfaction, gripped a misty edge, and gestured to Brandt.

  “After you.”

  18

  Nicu

  At nine years old, The Fae gave Nicu a mandate. Limit the Trimarked Child’s movements within Trifecta.

  Her presence was a daily reminder of magic. By remembering, the humans gained resistance to the Fae’s dampening spells. Softening aggression was only possible if the humans themselves preferred to live in peace. Segregation equalled protection, and Ember was to be removed from school, and distanced from humans.

  Though she was only seven, Nicu knew the girl’s strength of will would make his task difficult. If he failed, Nicu would be disgraced. Cursed as he was with a Terran birth and the touch of the Trimark, his purpose would be extinguished. No master would apprentice him. No Fae would befriend him. He’d be little better than a prisoner within Center, and Branna would be trapped with him.

  Nicu walked a careful line of understanding the need for control, yet not believing Ember was inherently dangerous because she was human and reckless. He thought he’d managed the best compromise by granting her a promise.

  The Fae did not approve of his methods. He had been forgiven because his method worked. His transgression had not been forgotten, though, as proof with Edan’s presence.

  So far, Edan had followed Nicu’s lead with Ember. Would he continue to do so with new information? Nicu could not ignore the evidence. Brandt hurt the hybrid girl. A dramatic wave shook the barrier. Aaron was looking for Brandt. The direction was clear, and it was likely Brandt was outside Trifecta. Nicu categorized the event as nonthreatening to the Fae. Would Edan conclude the same?

  Nicu scanned the main courtyard as he entered Center in search of Edan. Fae relaxed into their social hours under the purple sunset sky, dressed for comfort and warmth. They mingled between a ring of carts that had been wheeled between the transformed cabins. Potted fires were strategically placed to help keep the gathering warm as they collected their evening meal from one cart, a choice of drink from another.

  Edan was not in attendance.

  It was possible Edan had not witnessed Brandt’s attack on Ember. There was little chance he hadn’t discovered the truth of it. How deep into Trimark secrets had Edan delved? What did his second plan to do with that information? Had he already gone to the council? Nicu needed to find out.

  Wist stopped Nicu’s search with his heavy presence. Nicu cleared his mind, refused to assume the reason for the encounter.

  “Come.”

  Nicu breathed into the moment, shifted his thoughts to more quiet avenues, eased the tension in his shoulders to allow the flexibility of multiple reactions.

  The pai
r entered what had once been a rustic human place of worship and was currently the decorated council chamber. Dimmed light from polished, enchanted pillars stood guard at the edge of the room with tapestries hung between them, woven with sophisticated designs telling of the Fae’s rich history. The council used the hall for Center business. For now, the building doors shut behind them, the long benches as empty as the board table on the raised dais.

  Nicu would not speak first, especially here. Wist chose this space for what it represented, their differences in rank and power. He took a seat at the edge of a bench, motioned for Nicu to take the same position opposite the aisle. The Elder chose to sit below. Nicu could only sit where told.

  “The barrier?” Wist asked.

  Nicu allowed himself a breath.

  “Complete.”

  “Hmm.” The Elder arranged his long woven sweater, pulled it across his torso. “Humans?”

  “The same.”

  Wist folded his hands together. “And the Trimarked Child?”

  Was this where he learned Edan had chosen?

  The power of a ten-year-old promise held Nicu’s tongue still against the will of the Fae. Nicu’s core tightened as the two points of control within his life battled. He reminded himself Ember had done nothing against the Fae. He would not extend that statement with the word, ‘yet,’ as Wist would.

  “Is your mistake going to prove a problem?” Wist’s warning pervaded as deep as obligation. “I did not think I needed to mention her specifically when we spoke earlier. Perhaps I should have.”

  “I follow the will of the Fae.” Nicu’s smooth answer betrayed none of the trepidation burning a hole in his chest.

  “Indeed. Unfortunately, will is not always enough. For example, I meant to end the threat of the aberration. It was too late.” Wist’s mouth twisted on the taste of an awful memory.

  Nicu marked each second of his inhale, counted out on his exhale.

  “We cannot let chaos win,” Wist said. “We cannot let the power of that star undo the work we’ve put into Trifecta. This is not perfect. It is not… home. But Gypsum is dying. We must continue to encourage the humans to accept us. Look at what challenges we can eliminate. I need you to do what needs to be done. Do what I could not.”

  Edan had not spoken to Wist. This was a different, more treacherous conversation. Should Nicu anticipate a direct order to modify his edict, a threat to the balance he’d so far maintained?

  “Is this from the council, Elder?”

  “We must contain the damage.”

  Had Wist found evidence of danger that Nicu had not?

  Nicu blinked, careful to keep the motion natural. The potential change called unseen forces into the conversation. Time tested promises of the past against words of the future. Fate waited with bated breath to see if the scale would tip.

  Magic grew thick in the air. Nicu held each heartbeat to a steady rhythm, forced every muscle to remain relaxed. The Elder watched for signs of Nicu’s inner battle, to discover if promise or legacy would prove stronger.

  All the Elder needed to do was share a new piece of knowledge and change Nicu’s mandate. While Wist considered his options behind unchanging jet eyes, magic pooled and held Nicu prisoner to his choices.

  Power broke.

  The tension in the air burst out and away from Nicu’s body. Burning pain thrust into the base of Nicu’s skull. His back arched at the ambush, teeth clenched against the phantom attack.

  Truth kept him from panic. No promise had broken, no action had him forsworn. This was not because of Wist.

  The force plunged and carved through the nerves in his spine. He forced breath into his lungs at max capacity, and directed his concentration toward the purposeful discomfort in his chest rather than the actual attack. Attention diverted, he discovered reverberations of power from the strike, energy to track and follow.

  Living Ink reacted. The waves marking his skin flowed from his limbs, swirled across his back, fast growing vines taking purchase against his vertebra.

  “There’s a barrier breach,” he ground out as he focused on the cause of the pain. “Human land. End of the World.”

  The Elder towered over Nicu, face ashen. He disappeared from view, shouted for scouts the moment he threw open the door. Nicu held on to the power, looked for the source, for the reason. He searched for any hint of the Trimarked Child, a sign that this came from her.

  Steel and blood coated the rupture.

  Blood was a type of magic itself, an energy of life, ordered by control but with the potential to feed the chaos of the mind. A difficult power to tap into, harder to trace as it faded with healing, nearly impossible when done at such a range.

  Nicu did it, anyway.

  He held to the scent like a bloodhound, explored the speckled trail until he found the owner.

  Not Ember.

  Brandt Miller had returned to Trifecta with a magical artifact.

  The pain needed to be stopped so Nicu could act.

  Nicu closed his eyes. He gripped his fists in his lap and willed the edges of the tear together, fought to hold on over the distance. Severed lines of magic wove in and around each other to close the gap.

  The agony against his back dissipated.

  Nicu surged to his feet, ignored the flash of black vision, refused the wave of vertigo that jeopardized his stride until he hung against the door Wist had left open. Branna appeared, Edan not far behind, called by the commotion in the courtyard.

  Nicu did not have time to ask old questions. He needed action.

  “Find her.”

  This time, Edan went without argument, and with Branna as his shadow.

  Nicu clenched his jaw and eased the door shut on the tumult outside, careful not to bring attention to the movement. He could not go, not so soon after Wist’s test, an assessment that had proved just how delicate his position was. He’d fooled himself once again into thinking he’d found stable footing when all he had was practice and experience with the familiar.

  Sworn to the Fae, bound by his promise, he found only a few, unexpected words could destroy him. He thought the hybrid girl would be the one to threaten his stability. Wist had illuminated his error.

  Nicu refused to be forsworn, refused to lose his balance.

  He needed options, knew where to find them.

  The Fae would not approve.

  Once he reached the dais at the back of the room, Nicu paralleled the rise toward the right. He moved a heavy tapestry, slipped behind, and made sure the hanging concealed him before he opened the hidden passageway.

  A steep dirt ramp led into the dark, sandwiched between the council chamber and a storage closet. The hall was narrow to better disguise the added space. It widened under the building, allowing him to stop side-stepping and face forward once more.

  No lights flickered, no enchanted wood set off a glow. Nicu counted off seconds, adjusted for pace, but still stumbled when the ramp stopped at the stone floor. One hand stretched before him, whispered numbers accompanied each cautious step into the black.

  The labyrinth sat deep beneath the ground, another layer deeper than the underground halls that housed the Fae. Hard packed earth lined the surrounding walls. The artisans had placed the floor stones uneven and loose to make each movement forward a potential hazard. He closed useless eyes and remembered what he experienced during his single visit to the maze.

  Some turns were dead ends, others confusing loops. There were few, however, that led to Fae relics and rare treasures brought through the Fade. Nicu was only familiar with one path. He had only been down here when the council showed him the source of his connection to the barrier. The artifact was not from old Gypsum, but of Center. They wanted him to realize the danger so he understood to ignore its draw.

  He allowed the power to call to him now, used it to guide him as fingertips marked each turn taken and each path crossed. As a Fae, Nicu recognized the cost of chaos, the ability of High Magic to extract too great a fee. Yet, that
same magic had saved and bound him. The chaos of life, rather than price. Perhaps it would help again.

  Nicu’s lungs labored in thin air. Sweat coated his brow with the effort it took to move forward, to fight the need for rest. The dark threatened to take him in too deep, to keep him trapped beneath the earth with no way out. The feelings were brought on by protective spells and he ignored them, except to note he must be close.

  Then his fingers struck a small wooden box, pushed it away. It fell from its perch on a narrow pedestal. Nicu’s hand shot out, gripped the solid wood before it plunged. There were no other protections here, the path itself able to deter any but the most determined.

  He felt for the clasp, made sure the container faced top-side up before he opened the lid.

  Nicu’s fingers brushed cool metal. Delicate chains draped over his wrist. He traced the outline of a circle, followed the curved edges of a butterfly, found the intricate twists within the wing, the straight lines inside the circle as they crisscrossed into the shape of a star. This pentacle was not sealed with a slash. The Trimarked Child’s Binding Ink was meant to block access. The talisman Nicu cupped in his palm ensured control of that power, not by Ember, but by whoever possessed the medallion.

  Nicu dropped the box. It landed on the unseen floor with a muted crunch. His thumb rested on the pentacle. The star within the circle connected to the half butterfly, intended to restrict growth in an undesired direction. There was another form, as with all things.

  Engaging the Trimarked Child’s power was absolutely forbidden, even if used for the Fae. Yet, it might become paramount to ensure no other Fae had to sacrifice themselves for the hybrid girl’s sake, that Nicu could handle any threat on his own. This pendant provided choice, and possibly a way to preserve balance should Wist press his cause.

  The Fae would not approve.

  He debated finding the box, replacing it and the talisman, walking away. That meant his options would be limited, if not now, then soon. Options he found himself compelled to keep.

  Time ran out, choices came without warning, without opportunity to plan.