Chilled spatters of thin, grainy mud slapped Algernon’s bare feet. His ragged indoor clothing, ill-suited to the wretched weather and soaked, weighed him down.
Not more than his shame.
More hooves thundered behind them, echoing in Algernon’s head. Shadowy figures followed far too close. They’d repelled his mother’s flames, leaving his family no choice but to flee.
What did those people want? Why had they blocked the only road to safety?
But he knew the answer. They wanted him and his parents. Others like them had already tried to abduct Algernon and kill his grandmother.
Tried and died.
The dark shapes would catch them. Father would crack one with his elven staff. The rest would swarm and overcome Mother’s fruitless fire, Grandma Katona’s wounded wit, and Algernon’s exhausted everything.
He’d even lost his sword when their house had collapsed into the sea.
Algernon had no idea where they could go from here. No matter how well people in the area regarded his family, he doubted anyone from the nearby small towns would fight these fiendishly determined pursuers on their behalf.
He closed his eyes, too tired to think.
The driving rain consumed him. He smelled it, he heard it, he tasted it and nothing else.
Until the horses’ hooves clattered on stone in a cacophony all around him. The rain stopped.
Algernon opened his eyes inside a stone archway leading to a courtyard. Behind them, the pursuers stopped at the threshold.
“Where are we?” he asked in a whisper.
“Corlyn Sanctuary,” Mother said.
He’d heard of the place but knew little about it beyond its affiliation with the Order of Spilled Blood. His mother sometimes spoke of it as a destination.
The horses clopped at a slow pace through the short tunnel to emerge in a wide room with a high ceiling. Hoofbeats echoed off the bare stone walls. Damp warmth smothered Algernon, though not enough to chase away the chill settled into his bones.
Their pursuers remained outside the tunnel, their horses stamping and neighing.
“Why aren’t they following us inside?” Algernon asked.
“These are hallowed grounds where no one is allowed to fight.” Mother stiffened in the saddle. “It’s enforced by magic.”
Algernon tore his gaze from the people outside to scan the large room.
Four people awaited them in the spacious entry. Three wore simple wool clothing with fur linings to protect against the draft. One, a woman, smiled at Mother with polite, cheerful greeting.
The fourth person, a man in less common clothing and wearing a dark cloak, also smiled at Mother, though his expression felt more calculating and victorious. He had damp black hair tied in a tail and a curious scar along his jaw.
“I was beginning to think you’d never come, Tara,” the scarred man said.
“Maybe we should take our chances with the ones outside,” Father said.
“Oh yes, please do.” The scarred man laughed. “They’re more than ready for you.”
“Shut up, Miru,” Mother snapped.
Miru. This man had sent people to Algernon’s home to kidnap him and his grandmother. Fending off those barbaric thieves had cost Algernon a great deal. They’d slain a man he considered family and left him barefoot and homeless, among other things.
Grandma Katona spat her anger and distaste for the man.
Mother clucked her tongue and pulled the reins to turn the horse.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but Tara, please.” The smiling woman stopped smiling. She touched the bridle for Mother’s horse and pleaded with her eyes. “You’re soaked to the bone. The boy has no shoes or cloak. These horses are exhausted. If you go back out now, you might as well lie down and die.”
“Are you here to hand us over to Miru?” Father asked with a growl. He held his reins ready to turn his horse also.
“No, Adyn, of course not,” the woman said. “We would never condone such a thing. He won’t lay a hand on you while you’re here. Come, I’ll show you to rooms you can use.”
Mother glanced at Father. Father flicked his gaze to Algernon and back. He nodded.
“Fine.” Mother sighed and slumped her shoulders. “Algie, get down. This is Sharin.”
The two other people rushed forward to help them and take control of the horses. Algernon needed assistance to climb down from the mount’s back. Shivers wriggled over his body, and his muscles refused to flex.
With help, he failed to hurt himself while falling off the horse.
Grandma Katona hardly fared better. Her wrinkles had deepened to furrows across her face and her white hair hung wet and loose in a tangled mess halfway down her back. Both of her hands curled as if she had no power to straighten them.
Mother and Sharin supported Algernon through the large room. They used a wooden door carved with a sunburst to leave it in favor of a wide hallway.
“When did Miru get here?” Mother asked.
“Not long before you,” Sharin said.
Held between them, Algernon tripped and stumbled over a rug with swirling faded red and orange designs on a black background. He shivered so hard his teeth chattered.
“What did he say?” Mother asked.
“Nothing special.” Sharin shook her head. “He wanted to wait for some friends to arrive.”
Mother growled in the back of her throat.
“I didn’t know,” Sharin said. “If I had…”
“If you had,” Mother grumbled, “you would’ve let him in anyway because the doors are open to all who make no quarrel within these walls.”
The two women quieted. Algernon wanted to sit. He opened his mouth to ask how much farther they had to walk. Gibberish and nonsense fell out.
Sharin grunted in distress. “He’s freezing, Tara. Why isn’t he wearing shoes?”
“I don’t know,” Mother said with a frown.
Algernon hated making her frown.
They hauled him through rooms he barely noticed to reach a tiny room with a bathtub. Mother and Sharin worked without a word to strip him down and clean him up with warm water.
They treated him like a child incapable of caring for himself.
On the horse, he’d thought he wanted this. The debacle resulting in the destruction of their home had left him craving the shelter his parents provided.
In the tub, he wanted them to leave him alone. He could take care of himself.
As they turned off the taps, he warmed enough to protest.
“Mother, I can do this.”
“Hush, Algie.” Mother tapped his nose. “You nearly froze.”
“But I’m fine now.” He hoped he didn’t whine.
Sharin smiled and patted his shoulder. “Let your mama be your mama.”
“I don’t—” He stopped before he hurt his mother. But he didn’t need a mama anymore.
Mother raised her brow at him. “You don’t what?”
He blew out a breath and stopped fighting. “I don’t know.”
“Everyone is out of sorts when they’re cold and hungry.” Mother tousled his wet hair.
At least she gave him a towel when she deemed him done with his bath and let him dry himself. Then they swaddled him in blankets and handed him a bowl of stew.
Wary of attempts to feed him like an infant, he took control of the spoon.
Sharin left the four of them in a small sitting room with one couch and two chairs. An inner door led to a bedroom. Algernon already knew he would stay in a separate room down the hall, as would his grandmother.
Grandma Katona sat on the couch beside Algernon, wrapped in a more dignified robe and slippers. She also had a bowl of stew.
Mother and Father had removed their outer layers and sat in the chairs with steaming mugs.
“The destruction of the house was an unfortunate accident,” Grandma Katona said, “but at least it only took the lives of thieves and murderers.” She sighed. “Those monsters kille
d Ernold.”
Mother gasped.
Father blinked. “They...but why? He’s a harmless old man.”
Grandma Katona sighed again and shook her head. “He was a witness.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Mother whispered. She hung her head over her mug. “It was my fault.”
“It’s Miru’s fault.” Father glared at the wall.
Grandma Katona nodded. “I agree. This is most definitely Miru’s fault. Don’t blame yourself for it.”
Algernon ate his stew and let them forget about him. The less his parents knew about what had happened at the house, the better.
He remembered the dying twitches of a man he’d killed.
So much blood.
The lingering stench of death poisoned the stew.
Raising his bowl closer to his face, Algernon breathed in the scent of herbs and vegetables. The bouquet helped.
“Maybe we should just give him the damned ring,” Father said. “It’s what he wants, and he’ll never stop harassing us until he gets it.”
“No,” Mother snapped. “We’re not going to give in to this. People can’t just win like that. It’s wrong. We have to convince him the cost is too high so he’ll leave us alone.”
Grandma Katona set her bowl on her lap and removed the matte, flesh-tone ring from her finger. Her wounds had healed so she no longer needed it. “Whatever you intend to do, I prefer not to be a pawn in this game.” She offered the ring to Mother.
“No, Mama, keep it.” Mother held up her hand to refuse it. “Let’s not lose it while we’re busy trying to figure something out.”
“You wear it,” Grandma Katona said, still holding up the ring. “I don’t want it.”
“Just put it back on,” Mother snapped. “Keep it safe.”
“That may keep it safe, but I’m more concerned about myself and Algernon.” Grandma Katona tossed the ring to Father. “That thing has already cost enough lives.”
Mother snatched the ring out of the air and presented it to Grandma Katona again. “Don’t be ridiculous. This ring will save your life. Put it back on.”
“Tara,” Father murmured, “you’re being unreasonable. She doesn’t want it.”
“I don’t care if she wants it or not!”
Algernon shrank on himself, terrified this bewildering, horrible exchange might include him more than a mere mention.
Mother took Grandma Katona’s hand and shoved the ring onto her finger. “I won’t lose you. Not now, not ever. You’re not going to die on me like Papa did.” She sniffled and blinked too much. “Everything was fine when you just stayed at home. Algie needed it because terrible things always happen to children. But now you’re out in the world again. You have to wear it!”
Terrible things always happened to children. Algernon stuffed stew into his mouth, trying not to think.
Grandma Katona sighed as she withdrew her hand and rubbed the already-healing scrape on her knuckle. “I’m old, Tara. I’m supposed to die before you. That’s ideal.”
“No, it’s not!” Mother leaped to her feet and flung her cup. The contents sloshed across the room and the cup bounced on the rug.
“Tara.” Father stood and put his hands on her shoulders from behind. He kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you go find Sharin again and chat with her? It’s been a few months since our last visit here.”
Mother shrugged out of his grip and stormed out of the room. She slammed the door when she left.
With another sigh, Grandma Katona tugged the ring off her finger again. “I didn’t realize she’d become so obsessed about this.” She set aside her empty bowl and handed Father the ring.
“Neither did I.” Father took the ring and held it on his palm. “I thought we made this to protect Algie. She worries so much about him.”
Algernon made no noise. If he could have stopped breathing, he would have.
His parents had crafted an impossible ring to protect him. In so doing, they’d attracted unwanted attention. That had turned him into a monster and almost killed him.
Their efforts, he thought, had backfired spectacularly.
“I worry about him too,” Father continued, his voice softer. “The world isn’t always kind to half-elves.”
“The world isn’t kind to anyone, ever.” Grandma Katona took his fingers and curled them over the ring. “I would destroy it, Adyn. One person learned about it. Another will eventually. And another. People have already and will continue to kill for this.” She shook her head. “But it’s not my choice to make.”
Father worked his jaw. His head danced between a nod and a shake as if he had no idea whether to agree or not.
Enchanting items, according to Grandma Katona, required a special gift even rarer than the ability to heal. Even those who possessed such a talent seldom used the power-intensive and delicate process. When they did, the effort held grave potential.
Grandma Katona had told Algernon stories of mages who’d accidentally killed themselves trying to enchant items. Other stories depicted items gaining unintended enchantments.
She’d told him those tales because, like his mother, Algernon possessed that double-edged talent.
Someday, he’d learn to use it. If he dared.
Grandma Katona shrugged. “I’m tired. This has been a very long day for me. Don’t keep Algernon up too late. He’s had a rough day too.” She flashed Algernon a smile and left the room.
Sitting once more, Father held up the ring and stared at it.
Algernon sat and gulped. He wished he knew whether to speak or not, to stay or leave.
By not choosing, he made a choice.
Thick, tense silence pressed him deeper and deeper into the couch.
“Algie, you’re almost a man by human measures. What do you think?” Father pushed the ring closer to Algernon.
What did he think?
Everything the adults had said tumbled through his head, over and over. Their words crashed into each other. Mother wanted Grandma Katona to live forever. Algernon did too. Anyone would want that.
He’d killed four people. In this place, a sanctuary devoted to the end of killing, did he dare admit to his sins?
Hot, sticky blood spattered on his face all over again. He wanted to banish the memory of slashing a man’s throat. What would his mother think when she found out what he’d done?
“Algie.” Father leaned close and covered Algernon’s hand with his own. He tucked the ring into a pocket. “I meant that you should talk to me, not brood in silence.”
Algernon closed his eyes and slumped as he tried to quiet the clamor in his mind. “Sorry, Father.”
Father patted Algernon’s hand with a fond smile and sat back, giving Algernon more space than he needed or wanted. “It’s not important. Do you want to tell me about what happened this afternoon at the house?”
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
Someone knocked on the door, saving him from his indecision.
Father stood and tousled Algie’s hair as he passed on his way to answer the door. When he opened it, Algernon saw him smile broadly before he pushed the door open enough to allow the visitor inside.
“Algernon, this is my mentor, Satiuz Braylen.” Father shook the newcomer’s hand.
Satiuz Braylen had dark hair streaked with gray and a broad smile. Like the others Algernon had seen in the sanctuary, he wore simple wool clothing. His had the notable exception of silver embroidery gracing the cuffs of his long sleeves.
Not sure what formalities to observe, Algernon stayed seated lest he fall over in his blanket cocoon. He ducked his head. “Honored to meet you, Mr. Satiuz.”
Father grinned. “No, Algie, satiuz is his title. It means he’s the head of this sanctuary and highly esteemed in the Order.”
Algernon’s cheeks heated. “Excuse me,” he stammered.
“You’re fine, child.” His voice boomed like he had too much good cheer to contain within his stout body. “I’m pleased to finally meet
you, Algernon. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Having heard nothing at all about this man, Algernon gulped and hoped his smile seemed genuine.
Father gestured for Braylen to sit and shut the door. “What can we do for you, sir?”
“I understand you may be staying with us for a little while.” Braylen sat in the chair Mother had vacated and reached toward Algernon to shake hands with him.
When Algernon shook Braylen’s hand, the satiuz jumped as if startled by a sudden clap of thunder. Algernon felt nothing but warm, rough skin.
“News travels fast here,” Father muttered. He hadn’t noticed Braylen’s reaction.
Braylen checked his hand and shrugged, apparently tossing aside the curiosity. “It so happens I have a project that could benefit from your expertise as a healer.”
A grimace flashed across Father’s face. He smothered it as he returned to his seat. “I’m not really—”
“Excellent. Glad to finally have you on board for this.” By the sly grin on Braylen’s face, Algernon suspected he knew Father had intended to decline. “It’s not as if you have anything better to do. Now, Algernon, I understand you can also use magic?”
The full force of Braylen’s attention dazzled Algernon enough to make him wilt. “Yes, sir,” he said, hoping he sounded competent.
“What’s your specialty?”
He could craft illusions that fell apart. His combat magic so far consisted of one trick he might have learned to use successfully.
Algernon gulped. “I, um, I don’t really know yet?”
“He’s still working on the basics,” Father said.
“Nothing wrong with that.” Braylen beamed at Algernon. “The basics are important for anything. Maybe we can help you get some practice. Your father could use an able assistant for his work.”
Father frowned. “Braylen, I don’t think—”
“Nonsense, Adyn. It’ll be good for him. We don’t exactly have a wealth of children here, so he’d be bored otherwise. Much like you. Best to keep busy.”
Wayward Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 2) Page 70