A Mage Of None Magic (Book 1) (30 page)

47

Niel,
he heard Biddleby say.
Niel, it is time to awaken.

Overslept again. Late for chores. Except, he wasn’t lying down. He was standing.

And Biddleby was dead.

Arwin?

Niel,
the voice said again.
We have not long, and I need you to wake up.

The whirling in his head slowed, and Niel was able to open his eyes. He tried hard to bring into focus the dark, watery form in front of him.

There you are, my boy.

Uhniethi.

Niel braced himself for terror, but none arrived. Instead, as his vision cleared, he looked upon Uhniethi with an unexpectedly easy amazement. The ancient magician, clothed in creamy, embroidered ceremonial garb, stood in continual transformation, shifting back and forth in appearance from strong, young man to skeletal decay, and every stage in—

—as his
vision
cleared?

Niel’s hand shot to his ravaged eye. He could see through it, and he felt no pain. However, his fingers found hard smoothness instead of soft, warm flesh.

He grasped at his chest. The stone was gone.

Dizzying ripples of nausea pulled Niel to the floor.

“What have you
done
to me!” he shouted.

“More than you would have liked, I grant you,” wheezed a withered, long-bearded Uhniethi, “but far less than I might have.”

Niel forced himself to sit up. He searched his surroundings, listening hard to the instinct to flee, though at the same time knowing full well he could not. They were still inside the great hollow chamber of the mountain, but instead of at its center, they had moved to the foot of the sprawling throne carved into the cavern’s far side.

The pervading violet cast that once filled the chamber had dissipated, and everything around looked strangely more defined than before—as if peering through a magnifying glass.

Niel glanced about the rest of the chamber. Outside the dazzling white beam of light lay Ennalen’s broken body.

“I did that,” he said quietly. “I killed her.”

“You did indeed,” replied the handsome young man beside him.

Niel knew once in a great while it became necessary for a magician to defend himself. He had always hoped to avoid using his magic to that end.

If what he used could be considered his magic.

“Don’t be so cross with yourself, my boy,” Uhniethi said. “After all, she was going to kill you. And I’m more than happy to share the blame.”

“For bringing us here in the first place?”

“Quite.”

“Why
am
I here?”

Uhniethi wore a satisfied grin. “For a very long time I’ve been trying to solve a great conundrum, Niel. You have helped me take a large step toward the answer.”

“And that conundrum is?”

“Personal,” the middle-aged wizard replied, unmistakable danger in his tone. “I will, however, confide that my years of preparation had reached a point where it became necessary for me to decide in which of two directions I would venture—a fork in the road, you might say.”

“Two directions…” Niel thought out loud. “Ennalen and me?”

“You are a clever boy. But please don’t interrupt. Even as far back as when I attended the College, there existed a certain malaise amongst the Membership toward Canon and how it was taught. I and a handful of impetuous young minds took it upon ourselves to meet in secret and learn everything we could about what lies outside the strict boundaries of conventional magic. In the end all but one other student abandoned that course for fear of being discovered. He and I continued our heterodoxical indulgences right up through our confirmation, even beyond receiving our first posts.”

A young Uhniethi raised an eyebrow. “I believe you know how that turned out.”

“And that’s how you found the Heart?”

“It is. The whole of it, right here in this mountain. You can’t conceive what it was like, child, the bliss of standing in the midst of such raw might—so complete that for the longest while, I thought I had died.”

“But how—” Niel paused as the faintest whisper of that rapture wafted through him, making him shudder. “How did the College get hold of their own pieces of the Heart, if—”

“Because, my boy,” said the elderly mage, “I had work to do. Theories to test.”

“Work…? So you…
gave
them the pieces?”

Uhniethi made a dismissive gesture. “Slivers. Distractions. Baubles in comparison to what you have, to what our late Magistrate there had. I knew it would only be a matter of time before a pair of sufficiently able and resourceful young magicians found them and brought them back. Thanks to you, I believe I know how best to proceed with the remainder of my task.”

“A task you’ve been working at for over a thousand years?”

“Oh yes. Ever since I had that buffoon Herahm write his little book.”

Little book?

“Not to worry,” Uhniethi said. “Your new friends back in the Forest will explain what I mean. In more depth than you’ll care to hear, no doubt.”

“Your Luminance,” Niel said, finding it hard to catch his breath, “I don’t understand how you could have known so long ago that either Ennalen or I, let alone both of us together, would end up here when and how we did. I’ve been taught that kind of precognition is… impossible.”

“Yes,” Uhniethi replied with disgust, “I know. But imagine tossing pebbles into a pond, handfuls at a time. Spend long enough observing the act, and it not only becomes possible to predict when and where the pebbles will fall, but also how each ripple will interact with every other.”

The impulse to reject the notion prodded Niel. Something about the entire account simply did not sit right. But amongst the words did resonate an inherent note of truthfulness, much as it had been with Lleryth.

Uhniethi had found the Heart a thousand years ago, broken small portions from it and planted them along with other clues throughout the Lands to lure others in hopes of finding a solution to whatever problem he had.

What could possibly drive someone—?

Ripples on a pond.

No, not ripples on a pond.
Petals in a storm.

“Gods in heaven,” Niel whispered. “That’s what you wanted at Chael. That’s the secret you wanted to know then, and that’s what you’re still doing now! You’re trying to bring her back. You’re trying to bring Anese back to life!”

Uhniethi’s young, bright eyes narrowed with menace. “Lady Anese, if you please. And if you’ll forgive the conceit, I am well beyond trying. That is why I’ve enlisted your help in clearing the way for the rest of the process.”

“My help?”

“Indeed,” Uhniethi replied. “You are going to do away with the College for me.”

Niel’s stomach went cold. “So… I
am
the Apostate?”

Uhniethi laughed. “Yes. And no. In as far as you being a mythical figure of prophecy—you are not. As I indicated, and as I hope you have at least surmised, there is no such person. The Apostate is a farce. A ploy.”

“But… why?”

“Because the power of belief can be a tremendous weapon in its own right. Already rumors are creeping across the Lands, whispers that the Apostate has arrived. Soon it won’t matter how often or with how much conviction you deny being the Apostate. Vast numbers are going to believe that you are regardless. Even within the College. A single magician would never be able to engage the College on equal footing. But a legend. Well, that’s another matter entirely.”

Niel swallowed hard. “Don’t expect me to fight the College, Your Luminance. I won’t do it.”

“Once our business here is concluded,” Old Uhniethi replied, “I will relinquish my hold on what remains of the Heart and present it as a gift to my esteemed brethren at the College. I’ve other matters to attend, and will have no more use for it. For the time being.”

“You’re giving them the
Heart?”

“When I do,” Young Uhniethi said, “the only piece that will remain beyond the College’s reach will be what I’ve placed inside your bright little head.”

An awful understanding descended upon Niel. “They’ll want it from me. They’ll want to heal the Heart themselves.”

“You see?” Uhniethi said. “I told you that you were clever. And as you said yourself, the Heart must never be healed, else the world suffer the most dire of calamities. Thus you will need to do your utmost to prevent them from obtaining it, for the sake of us all.”

Niel looked away, dumbfounded. Find a means to destroy the College, or else the College would surely do the same to him—in which case they would heal the Heart and possibly fulfill the fabled ancient wish of the Dragon Sisters. Either way, Uhniethi would get what he wanted.

“I can’t bel—”

“But you
do
believe it,” Young Uhniethi said. “And it doesn’t even matter whether the things I say are true. What matters is deep down, in a place you’re still reluctant to dwell, you believe what I’m telling you. Else you wouldn’t be here.”

The decrepit magician climbed the large stairs to the throne above.

Just as Niel had predicted, yet another curtain had been pulled back to unveil further depths to the deceptions he had once known as truth. Fear and frustration swelled. He clenched his fists and turned his head, and when he did the brilliant shaft of light and the wooden post it surrounded came once more into view. Indignation and anger spilled over the dam of his self-control.

“She was another man’s
wife!”

At the next to last step, Uhniethi turned. “In name only.”

“Does that
matter?”

The young man shrugged. “Calling something one word or another has little to do with the reality of its nature. Take the Heart, for example.”

Niel paused as a confused relief took hold. “Then… the Heart’s not the actual, mythical Heart after all?”

Uhniethi smiled. “Does that matter?”

With a wave of Uhniethi’s skeletal hand, the dark, massive jewel floating above the throne shimmered and faded from view. Niel hadn’t fully acknowledged it being there until that moment, so thoroughly had its presence saturated the chamber.

A sob tightened Niel’s throat. “No…”

“Yes,” Uhniethi replied. “Now, my boy, the time has come for you to leave this place. You would do well to heed these words: Neither you nor anyone on your behalf is ever to return here. If you do, I will destroy not only you, but everything you have ever held dear. Go, retrieve your friend, and live out your life as best you can.”

Niel gave a derisive scoff.
“Destroy
me? Am I not so very vital to your plans after all?”

Uhniethi’s arms jutted out to a ghastly length. His elongated fingers clenched around Niel’s torso and yanked him hard from the floor. Niel rushed toward the decomposing figure of Uhniethi with sickening speed, stopping only when his nose mashed against the magician’s moldering face. Where there should have been eyes blazed two orbs of murderous violet-crimson. Black lips curled back into a demonic leer.

“I’ve waited
this
long, boy. I can wait longer if need be.”

With a flick of Uhniethi’s hand, Niel tumbled down the steep stairway and came to a splayed stop where he had just been standing.

“Now go,” Uhniethi said with a final, foreboding grin, “for you have much to do.”

48

Traversing the enormous length of the chamber, making his way through the tunnels, and arriving at the entrance seemed to take far less time than it had on the way in. But then, even as a boy, going home had always felt like the shortest part of the trip.

The stillness with which Arwin lay, unblinking, would have surely caused him to fear that in his absence his friend had died, but by virtue of the eye that Uhniethi had given him, not only could Niel clearly see that Arwin lived, he could clearly see Arwin
being
alive.

Nonetheless, he gave thanks when Arwin turned his head at the sound of his approach.

“Hello,” Arwin said in a frail whisper.

Because not enough of it had been used on Arwin’s wound, the potion had not finished its work. Half in fascination, half in despair, Niel watched the magic struggle to complete the task for which it had been created. He also saw the early consequences of the potion’s use. The magic employed borrowed against the recipient’s future healthfulness. The ultimate cost to the one drinking it was premature aging, along with a paring away of a comparable amount of natural life expectancy. As a result, Arwin looked the tiniest bit older, though Niel couldn’t be certain how much of that perception could be attributed to his substitute eye.

Niel crouched. “How are you feeling?”

Shock, horror, and regret creased Arwin’s face. “Sweet gods, Niel. What did that bastard do to you?”

“Plenty. But let’s talk on the ship. We’ve been asked to leave, and I’d like to do just that.”

Arwin grunted as Niel took his outstretched arm and helped him to his feet. “Well, that will be a trick. Our friends still have us boxed in.”

Niel looked at the wall formed by the statues. How did Uhniethi intend for them to leave if they—?

With a gentle rumble and the raspy grate of stone on stone, the blocks unfolded one by one back into shapes with heads, legs and arms. They crawled from their places and shuffled back down the long corridor, and as each found the spot from which it had come, it turned and resumed its stance as though it had ever moved.

Arwin gave Niel an uneasy glance.

Niel shook his head. “That wasn’t me.”

Arwin held out his arm. Niel ducked under it and took his friend’s weight onto his shoulders, then stepped out into the wintry evening air.

Looking from one side of the Wall to the other, searching the rubble, Niel saw no sign of Peck, Cally and Jharal. The winds had died since the two of them had been trapped inside the tunnels; everything lay still and dismal. He tried reaching out with his senses, but his awareness of Uhniethi’s overwhelming shine thwarted the effort.

“I don’t see them.”

Arwin sighed. “I can’t imagine there would be much of them left to see.”

He and Arwin hobbled back down to the crumbling breach where they’d first entered the Wall. Arwin jutted his chin toward a gap high above.

“Go up and take a quick look. Let’s make sure we don’t have any more surprises waiting for us.”

He helped sit Arwin on a nearby block of stone then climbed up the stairs to the top of the Wall. Below in the cold, quiet breezes of the approaching night Potchkin’s ship rocked like a slumbering giantess. He smiled at the sight, but the smile quickly faded.

As when they had left, he saw no sign of anyone aboard.

He trotted back to where Arwin sat. “The ship’s there, but no sign of the Professor.”

Arwin frowned and glanced up at the deepening blues of the sky. “Well, it’s getting cold. Maybe we missed him before he went below.”

Niel took Arwin’s elbow and helped him back to his feet. “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Careful, friend, or you’ll start sounding like an explorer.”

“Or worse, an adventurer.”

“Another remark like that, and I’ll make you pay me for my dagger.”

Niel knew it had been a jest, so he smiled again and hoped it looked sincere.

***

It took longer than Niel expected for them to negotiate the jagged pile of rocks and debris that spilled from the Wall’s breach; night had fallen by the time the two of them reached the ship. Climbing up the ladder also proved a slow and tedious task. Arwin had to rest every few rungs in order to conserve his strength. Niel had briefly considered trying to levitate him onto the deck by drawing on the stark energy exuding into his body from his new eye, just as both Ennalen and Uhniethi had done to him. But, he saw no point in the risk. Even if he somehow managed to lift them, setting them down again would likely be that much more difficult, and even a short fall might be too much for Arwin.

They stood on the deck in the brittle cold of night, Arwin hunched and panting in long cloudy jets as he caught his breath. Niel again felt the impulse to reach out magically to Arwin and steady him somehow, not unlike what had happened to Niel with the horse outside of Glernny. But again he resisted, in deference to the abundant unknowns involved with making the attempt. Instead, he watched Arwin’s fatigue set ever more deeply and dangerously into his frame, and knew his friend neared collapse.

The vessel had been built with no portholes, no way to determine whether any candles burned within. Although Niel supposed it made sense, seeing as how it would ruin any advantage of stealth to have a swarm of golden lights floating through the sky, it also made sneaking inside a much chancier prospect. He tried sensing whether anyone waited below, but with the blare of Arwin’s agony on top of Uhniethi’s hateful essence, there was no way to tell.

When Arwin got his wind back, he drew his sword and nodded at Niel. Niel crept around to the hinged side of the trap door that led to the ship’s interior, then readied himself to pull it open. As he stretched for the handle, the door flew up, whacking Niel in the chest and sending him rolling backward.

Shaking the daze from his head, Niel watched the door and the shape that emerged… followed by the glow of a single, small lantern that illuminated the round, pleasant face beneath.

Professor Potchkins.

The tahlerig offered a broad, affectionate smile.

“You were right,” he called below. “It
is
them.” The professor cupped his hand to his mouth and whispered at Niel. “That Peck has good ears. Just cost me ten coppers.”