Mageborn: Book 04 - The God-Stone War

  Uh oh, I thought. “Apologized?”

  “Yes. She told me she loved me, and that she understood your perspective better now,” explained Penny. “I don’t suppose you would mind telling me what the hell that was all about?”

  That led to an awkward explanation, but after I had finished Penny seemed to accept it. She even let me have my arms back.

  “Next time you need to tell me these things from the beginning,” she admonished me before relaxing and snuggling up close against me. “Were you tempted?” she asked then.

  A lot, said my inner voice. My inner voice can be pretty stupid sometimes. “I was… a bit,” I confessed.

  She growled, “I think you need a reminder.”

  And remind me she did. It was fortunate that I was fully restored beforehand, or I might not have survived.

  ***

  Later that day I finally got around to looking at the message box that Dorian had kindly brought for me. I had actually intended to look at it, and send a message, but at the time I had merely sought to distract him long enough to escape my room.

  The jewel on top of the box was gently flashing, an indicator that it held an unread message.

  Mordecai,

  Forgive me for the lack of correspondence. Since the move to Agraden, I’ve been pre-occupied with setting up our new home. Marissa seems to enjoy being close to her family once again, though time and distance has made her a bit of a stranger to them.

  I wasted no time looking for the ancestral home of the Gaelyn family, even though as you know that was only my secondary goal. The search was a little anti-climactic in fact, because as soon as I got around to asking questions, I found that its location was common knowledge here. The natives here call the area Drakon Perket, which I have learned means dragon’s rest, or dragon’s roost.

  Given what we already know about Gareth Gaelyn, it seems obvious (at least to me) that he must have spent considerable time here after his transformation, which probably gave rise to the name. There are numerous stories here of people claiming to have seen a large beast. Until recently, they were largely regarded as stories produced by the overactive imaginations of children or unbalanced individuals, but a number of years ago quite a few people claimed to see the creature, rising from the earth. They don’t laugh about it anymore.

  I would like to make a trip there. It is only a matter of a few miles from here, but my health has begun deteriorating, creating difficulties. If things aren’t too busy, you should consider coming to take a look. I know how engrossed you often are with you projects, but I really think that you might find some important bits of information here, and who knows what the Gaelyn family left behind? Apparently the locals here never go there, and those that try invariably wind up wandering without ever getting to the heart of the area. Sounds familiar doesn’t it? …Makes me think of your forgetful day in my father’s library.

  If you do manage to make the trip, perhaps we could go together… one more adventure, eh? I wouldn’t be much use of course, and in my current state you’d probably have to practically carry me, but I’m still good for witty banter. I’d really like to see what’s there.

  I will close this letter for now. Marissa sends her love, as do I. Kiss the twins for me.

  Marcus

  Refolding the paper, I felt a familiar twinge of guilt, the guilt of a man who is too busy to keep up with his friends. I hadn’t even gotten around to reading the book he had found regarding the Gaelyn family. He had left it for me at the house in Albamarl.

  His remarks about his health were particularly troubling, because I knew he would have understated the problem, which meant he was very likely to be much worse. Yet I couldn’t afford to leave now. My castle had been invaded. My people were returned, but many things remained to be fixed, and I could hardly leave them defenseless.

  I shut my eyes and tried to relax. It was something I had gotten rather good at over the years. Much of my magic required a calm mind, lest my emotions affect my control. My breathing slowed and I began enumerating my problems. One, the two remaining human gods were my enemies, but they might be too afraid to face me directly. Two, the remnants of the shiggreth were still loose in the world, though I couldn’t be certain of their numbers or whereabouts. Three, my castle was damaged and my people were fearful, having just survived an assault. Four, Lyralliantha was still locked away, and I couldn’t decide whether I dared to release her.

  Wait! What did I just list there? I ran the words over again in my mind. I knew they were strange, but frighteningly, they didn’t seem so. The name was familiar. Lyralliantha, I thought, and an image presented itself within my mind, a young woman with soft silvery hair and vivid blue eyes staring intently at me. She was slender and something in her features made her seem ageless, and then I noticed her ears. They tapered to gentle points, making them slightly longer than would be normal for a human.

  The sunlight set her hair to shimmering in the bright summer afternoon. The trees around us were immense, and yet they were spaced far enough apart to create islands of light amidst their shadows. She turned to me and I heard her voice, “Whatever made you think I was human?”

  I bolted upright from my chair. Was I sleeping? Letting my eyes rove the room my heart began to slow to its normal pace. No, I was awake. How could I forget? Lyralliantha was one of the She’Har. The thought seemed normal, but I knew it was not. The door in my mind was open and things were spilling through, memories of times and places so far removed they could have no possible bearing on the present, not anymore.

  I tried to focus my thoughts on Marc again, but the first thought that came to mind was the day he had handed me a certain wooden box, a box that had held the accord between humankind and the She’Har. They broke it, it has no meaning anymore. It wasn’t my fault.

  “I am losing my damned mind,” I said aloud, hoping the sound of my own voice would help to ground me again. “The first thing I need to do is reassure the people. They will want to see that I am alive and still protecting them. Until I do that, I can do nothing else.”

  Clenching my jaw I shuttered away the unwelcome thoughts and penned a short letter to Marc. I kept it brief, congratulating him on his find and promising that I would try to find the time to visit soon. I deliberately left out the most recent events. It would have taken too long to write them out. That could wait for another day.

  After I had finished, I rose and left. It was time and past for me to return to Castle Cameron. The people were back and they needed my reassurance. Taking a deep breath, I kept my steps firm as I walked down the hall. Confidence was the key.

  Chapter 33

  Two days passed relatively uneventfully. I kept Penny and the children hidden away in our private home while I continued to supervise the beginnings of the reconstruction. I still didn’t feel that things were safe enough to expose my family, but there was no sign of any return by the gods.

  Karenth still moaned and lamented his fate deep below, in the Ironheart Chamber. His power had been drained away and now was stored in the heavy iron surrounding him, forming an impenetrable prison cell. Later I would need to decide how the power should be used. While the structure and shape of his prison was very different than the God-Stone, the functional purpose was the same. It held his power, and if I didn’t find a way to make regular use of it, he would eventually overload the capacity of the iron, resulting in an explosion of untold proportions.

  My best estimation gave me several years before that was a risk however.

  I met with Walter, Elaine and George, assigning George to help with the reconstruction of the damaged parts of the Castle. Walter and Elaine I tasked with taking turns keeping watch over the castle and Washbrook. I wanted someone there at all times, ready to reactivate the barrier if the worst should happen and Doron or Millicenth decided to pay a visit.

  As they were leaving Elaine paused and looked back, “May I have a private word with you?”

  “Certainly,” I agreed, hoping the c
onversation wouldn’t be too awkward.

  Once her father and brother had gone, I shut the door and motioned to her to return to her chair. We had been sitting in one of the small meeting rooms of Castle Cameron. Resuming our seats, I waited to see what she would say.

  An uncomfortable silence ensued while she gathered her courage. “I wanted to thank you,” she said finally, “and to apologize.”

  I waved my hands as if to deny her words, “No. You have no need to apologize, especially after what you did for my family. Penny saw your acts in the hall. You defended my children as if they were your own.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I stepped across boundaries that were not mine to cross. I let my own selfishness blind me to the fact that what I was doing would harm your family,” she explained. “After what you did, when you healed me, I understood how wrong I was.”

  We hadn’t actually spoken yet about the events of that day, so I still had many questions regarding what had occurred after I had lost consciousness. “About that,” I began, “could you describe what happened for me?”

  “You gave me what I had always wanted,” she said with a wistful smile.

  Myself?

  She saw the look on my face and spoke before I could interrupt, “Don’t be egotistical. I meant your gift, for a little while I could hear the voices of the world.”

  “If I went that far… why am I still here? You had everything,” I suggested.

  Elaine frowned, “Do I seem so shallow, so selfish? I have seen through your eyes now, and I understand better what drives you. I know that my… feelings, may have been wrong, but I am not evil. I cared for Penny, for your family, before… but once I had seen them through your eyes… how could I deny them their father? While you were with me, I didn’t just possess your gift. I also saw them, your wife and family, in the light of your love. I had no other choice than to return you, to restore you, as you had done for me.”

  “I should have thought before I said that,” I said, backtracking. “I knew you better than that, or I wouldn’t have gone as far as I did.”

  She looked down, “Don’t. Your kindness doesn’t help, and that isn’t what I came to tell you.”

  I was puzzled. “So what was it?”

  “Before it was over, before I finished, I felt something in your heart, something that was part of you, but was also separate. But when I tried to look at it, to see it more clearly, I could feel it looking back at me, as if it were measuring me,” she said. “It frightened me.”

  The only thing she could be relating was the hidden part of myself, the piece that held the secrets I dared not examine. I had never seen it quite as she described, but I knew it immediately. You bear Illeniel’s Doom. The words echoed in my mind, though I wasn’t sure where I had heard them.

  “I asked you about this before, and you wouldn’t answer me, but I understand now. That’s where your secrets come from, isn’t it?” she said without beating about the bush.

  “Some things,” I agreed. “Not everything, I think, but it’s hard for me to know sometimes. I don’t think it is quite as separate as you suggest. I think it’s just a dark corner of my own mind. I just don’t know how it came to know everything that it does.”

  “It knows,” she replied darkly. “It knows how it got there.”

  I suppressed the urge to shudder. “Did you learn something from it?”

  “No!” she said sharply, “It’s just a feeling, but I’m certain that it knows.”

  “You keep saying that as if we were talking about something foreign. I think it’s just another part of my ‘self’. Some sort of bloodline memory perhaps, passed down from my father, but still a part of ‘me’,” I explained.

  “You may be right,” answered Elaine, “but I think you should be wary.”

  That’s all well and good, but how, do you propose that I be wary of myself, I thought wryly. “I’ll try,” I said placatingly.

  ***

  That evening I reread Marc’s letter. The more I thought about it, the more anxious I was to see him. Things seemed to have stabilized at home, and I began to worry that if I waited very long it would be too late. I sat down in my study to pen a response letter to him.

  Marcus,

  My last letter was too short. I omitted most of the recent events here, mostly because I didn’t want to worry you about things you couldn’t fix. Things have calmed down, and I’ve decided to make a trip to Agraden. I’ll catch you up when I see you. It really is too much to write.

  Expect me in two or three days.

  Mordecai

  I folded the small sheet and put it into the box, and then I leaned back and tried to think about how I would explain my reasons to Penny. The more I examined my motives, the more selfish they seemed.

  Fifteen minutes later I had given up and I was about to leave my study when I noticed the light flashing on the message box. It was unusual to get such a quick reply. Opening the box I found a small torn piece of parchment, hastily scribbled with a message. It wasn’t in Marcus’ handwriting.

  Dear Mordecai,

  Please forgive the condition of this note. I had not the time to find a more suitable medium to write upon. My husband is no longer able to respond. His illness has worsened and he is now confined to his bed. He drifts in and out of consciousness, but I will endeavor to make him understand you are on your way.

  Sincerely,

  Marissa Lancaster

  The room seemed to sway around me, and I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears. This can’t be happening. I stood and stared blankly at the wall as a terrible urgency swept over me, and then my paralysis snapped and I found myself moving. Acting almost without thought, I gathered up the things I thought I might need, my staff, my belt and its special pouches, my stylus… then I stopped.

  “I have to tell Penny.”

  Mercifully I was able to reach her without meeting anyone else, particularly my children. I wasn’t sure I could hide the powerful surge of emotions from them just then, and the last thing I wanted to do was frighten them. They’d been through enough recently.

  “What?!” she said immediately. I suppose my face had given me away already.

  “It’s Marc,” I began, and over the course of the next ten minutes I explained as much as I could, though of necessity my story was far from complete.

  “I don’t understand. What did you say is wrong with him?” she interrupted.

  Struggling to remain patient, I repeated myself, “It’s an illness called the ‘grey wasting’, an affliction that affects those who have been possessed by one of the gods.”

  “And how do you know this again?”

  I was moving already, heading for the door. “I have to go, dearest,” I said as I went.

  She saw the look and she already knew there would be no dissuading me. “Let me grab a few things. I’ll come with you.”

  That made me pause for a moment. Penny’s face was earnest, and the sincerity in her features reminded me again why I had loved her for so long. Sadly I replied, “You can’t.”

  “The hell I can’t…” she started, and then Irene woke from her slumber and began to cry. “Dammit!” she exclaimed and then our eyes met again. Hers were filling with tears as she picked up our daughter and began to rock her gently. She had forgotten for a moment, but reality had reminded her quickly enough, our burdens were not so easily neglected.

  I took a moment to kiss my wife and run my fingers across Irene’s soft hair, and then I turned away.

  “Tell him I love him!” she said urgently as I left. I nodded and after I closed the door I heard her crying gently through the door. Marcus had been her lifelong friend as well, and it wasn’t fair that she had to remain behind.

  Gritting my teeth to hold back my own tears I headed to the circle that Walter had created, the one that led to Lancaster. There were a few more people I had to tell.

  ***

  My arrival in Lancaster was greeted with no fanfare. No one
expected me, and the guard at the circle building knew me well enough that he simply waved me on with a courteous bow and a ‘good day’. There had already been considerable traffic between Cameron and Lancaster over the past day or two, as Walter and George traveled back and forth, carrying Lady Thornbear and a variety of news in both directions.

  “Where is Roland?” I asked the footman at the door to the main hall. Since James’ elevation to the monarchy the day to day business of handling the duchy had fallen into his younger son’s hands. Traditionally the elder son, Marcus, would have gotten the job, but he had disavowed his inheritance years before. Marc’s sister, Ariadne, was the older of the two remaining children, but tradition meant she would only inherit the title if her younger brother died or was deemed unfit.

  Roland was fit enough, though he truly didn’t want the job. Over the past several years he and Ariadne had taken it in turns to manage the day to day affairs, allowing each of them long periods to escape the demands of leadership. Naturally this had led to much discussion about who would eventually succeed their father, not just as Duke (or Duchess), but also as monarch.

  “I believe His Highness was last seen at the stables, Your Excellency,” answered the guard promptly and with perfect etiquette. The Lancasters had taken more effort in training their staff in proper graces. At Castle Cameron many of my retainers were a bit fuzzy on the proper forms of address, nor was it really a priority of mine.

  I gave the man a nod and followed his advice. Roland loved horses just as much as his father had, or my father, for that matter. I found him quickly enough, brushing down a lovely white palfrey. As a prince of the realm, or a duke’s son, for that matter, he had no need to groom his own horses. He did it simply for the pleasure of the task.

  Growing up, Marc’s younger brother had been eight years younger than we were, which meant we hadn’t really been close playmates. Instead, he had looked up to us while for our part we had probably been a bit cruel in trying to leave him out of our games when we could. Looking at him now, I was amazed at how much he looked like my friend. His hair was a darker shade of brown and his eyes a light blue. He was taller and broader across the shoulders than his older brother. In many ways he was more handsome, though he did not possess quite as much charm as Marc; but then few had that.