Magus (Advent Mage Cycle) (47 page)

“Will you come in?” Huish invited, a hand extending toward the building behind him. “I think, all things considered, you have the right to.”

I hit the spell on the bon’a’lon, putting it up on my belt. “We would be very pleased to come up, Huish.”

Chapter Twenty-Three: Homeward Bound

I’ve never been inside a Watchmen Building, obviously, but it wasn’t at all what I pictured. It wasn’t open and airy, like Don’s pool, but the hallways were narrow and made of dark stone. And there were lots of boxes, bags, and the like strewn in neat piles to one side. The building wasn’t very large, and it was easy to see that a lot of people were crammed in here—their effects were spilling out of the cracks.

The whole team was walking behind me, looking a little sweat-soaked, tired, and grubby. But we were all definitely relieved to be actually
invited
inside. We had taken a moment to do one more precaution before coming inside. Chatta had cast a heavy sleep spell on all of our captives, just in case the priests decided to try something else to get out of my barrier. We had a good eight hours to think of what to do with them.

“Huish, how
did
all of these people gather here?” Xiaolang was honestly curious. This puzzle had been driving him crazy for days.

“That’s actually my doing,” he admitted. “When the Star Order Priests first came for me, I ran and managed to hide from them here. They never even looked for me here. I thought it made a really good hiding place, and then I found the scrying pool. It took me a few months to figure out how to use it, and then I started seeing other people that were doing magical things, or were being pursued by the Star Order…and I just couldn’t ignore them.”

The courage and sheer gumption of this man astounded me. It wasn’t enough that he was hunted by the Star Order—he had pushed it over the edge by actually helping out other magicians! I felt respect for him raise another notch.

“It could not have been easy to find fifteen magicians, and bring them
and
their families here,” I commented.

Huish gave me a penetrating look, his quick walk slowing a little. “You said that you can feel magic. You can feel all of us?”

“If I’m close enough,” I admitted easily. I found it intriguing that he hadn't figured out that people who glow had magic. Or maybe he had attributed some other reason for it? When this was all over, I was definitely going to sit down and talk to the man. And then I started to slow, too, as I started to detect something I hadn’t felt three days ago. It felt very familiar. Oddly familiar. In fact, if I hadn’t known better, I would have said it was a Jaunten.

But that was impossible. There was only one other person with Jaunten blood in Chahir.

Huish turned and nodded toward someone coming from a different hallway. “Aidan, come meet the Red Hand and two magicians from Hain.”

It took only a moment for me to recognize him. This was a face that I couldn’t ever forget.

His hair was different, of course. Being made into a Jaunten always turns a person’s hair white. I hadn’t expected anything different. He’d seriously aged since the last time I saw him, looking to be in his late thirties instead of late twenties. His grey eyes went wide when they saw me, and for a split second he looked terrified.

“
You.
” My voice was thick with venomous loathing. Without any conscious direction on my part, my bon’a’lon leaped into my hand and out to full extension. With a hiss and click, the blades snapped out, one of them hovering inches away from my enemy’s throat.

Huish went rigid with surprise. “What are you doing?!”

Dolanaiden flung out a hand to stop him in his tracks. His eyes were sad, almost defeated as he stared at me. “You cursed me that day, Magus. Is that not enough?”

“That was before I knew she was
pregnant
, you filthy whoreson!” I snarled back.

I would swear that he hadn’t known that until I told him. The surprise on his face was too genuine to fake. “…I didn’t know,” he whispered.

“What difference does that make? You were ready to sacrifice your three year old son!” I spat out, reliving the horror I had felt that day. To my dismay, Dolanaiden bowed his head in shame, and slowly sank to his knees there in front of me, waiting patiently for his destiny to embrace him.

Chatta laid a restraining hand on my arm. “Garth, who is he?”

“Asla’s ex-husband.” The words were clipped.

“Ah. I
see.
” There were layers of anger under those words. The restraining hand on my arm dropped. I took that as tacit permission from her to continue.

“Perhaps she understands, Garth, but we don’t.” Xiaolang sounded calm, but there was this ring of authority that stopped me in my tracks.

“Not that it’s not entertaining,” Shad assured me with irreverent humor. “I didn’t know you could
get
angry. You’re normally such a relaxed fellow.”

“It’s not a good thing, believe me,” Aletha muttered to him anxiously. “
Buildings
tend to be demolished when Garth loses his temper.”

I don’t break
everything
when I get angry, Aletha….

“Garth?” Xiaolang prompted, not entirely patiently.

I’d never told anyone this story, and I didn’t want to now. After a moment of wrestling with myself, I gritted out through clenched teeth, “When Guin was still negotiating with Vonlorisen, I had the task of rescuing anyone nearby with magical abilities. At one point, I rescued a young mother and her three year old son from being burned at the stake. The person who turned them in was the woman’s husband.” It took another deep breath before I was calm enough to finish the story. “At the time, I thought it a befitting punishment to turn that man into a Jaunten—effectively showing him how stupid his beliefs were, and painting a target on his back at the same time. That was before—” my hands tightened on the bon’a’lon “—I knew that Asla was three months pregnant.”

“And why are you feeling so protective of that woman?” Xiaolang was carefully neutral.

“Asla became a Rheben six months ago.” I figured that was explanation enough. I wasn’t protecting some random stranger, I was protecting my
sister
. That changed things.

Dolanaiden hissed in a shocked breath. “You married her?!”

How did he jump to that asinine conclusion? “No, we adopted her.”

He didn’t lose his surprise, but he did become rather confused.

“So you’re the Mage that turned him.” Huish scanned me from head to foot, expression pensive.

That phrase had a great deal of understanding in it. My eyes cut to him. “You know the story?”

“Aiden told it to me before we let him in here. I had reservations at first, but he’s worked as hard as anyone to protect the people here. And his knowledge has been invaluable. What you did, Magus, gave us an ally.”

I didn’t want to hear that. I was all wound up, and I wanted someone to pound on. Huish’s words just took away my target.

Shad drifted up to my side, eyebrows cocked at an amused angle. “We had a saying in the service, Garth. ‘A weapon is something that makes your enemy change his mind.’ I think you’ve already changed this man, and for the better. That—” he jerked his chin to indicate the bon’a’lon “—would be overkill.”

I was getting outmaneuvered on this one. “Xiaolang, is he sincere?”

The Q’atalian was fighting a smile, no doubt sensing that I was on the verge of caving in. “Yes.”

Rats
. With a desolate sigh, I shut the bon’a’lon off, putting it back to its normal size. “Oh all right, you win.” I sounded like a petulant five year old, but I couldn’t help that. And I wasn’t completely sold on Donalaiden’s supposed change of heart either. Maybe I was just prejudiced, I don’t know. If I wasn’t ten layers of angry at the man, I might have a better perspective on the situation.

Dolanaiden licked dry lips, eyes darting nervously to the weapon still in my hand. "What… The baby. Was it also…?"

I could guess what he meant to ask. I just scowled back, not willing to give him any more information than he had.

“I wouldn’t push that question,” Xiaolang advised, not entirely without some sympathy. “Aletha’s right on this score—buildings tend to be demolished when Garth loses his temper. Fortunately for us, he’s normally quite calm.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes heavenward, and shut the bon’a’lon away again. “Once, only
once
did I have a fight where buildings got hit. And that was because I was fighting another Mage! Why is everyone insisting on painting me as some sort of out-of-control natural disaster?”

“Because that’s the only time we’ve seen you that mad?” Aletha offered.

“You can’t assume something from only seeing it once!” I protested. “And I fixed everything afterwards,” I added as an afterthought.

“No, really, he doesn’t destroy buildings normally,” Chatta came to my defense. “The time before that, he just punched Kartal.”

I ran that through my head. “Um, Chatta…that didn’t really help.”

Xiaolang was snickering behind one hand. Everyone else just outright laughed.

~*~

It took the rest of the day to get everyone packed up and ready to go. The team was scattered throughout the building, helping to organize people. Chatta and I focused on the storeroom Huish pointed us to. As she had guessed, the room was full of weapons, crystals, a few wands, and books—lots of books.

Including something I’d only heard about—Magician’s Indexes.

At one point, before the world was turned topsy-turvy, Chahir kept a running index of all the magicians. There were two reasons for this; one, to give the common citizens a way to prove whether a magician was what he said he was, or just a charlatan; and two, to give the government a way to keep track of all of the magicians in Chahir with a list of their abilities. Anyone could pick up a copy, as long as they had the need and the proper payment for it.

When I found the first one, I just held it for several seconds, my mind unable to wrap around the concept that one of these had actually
survived
the purging after the Magic War. And then I croaked, “Chatta, look at this!”

She looked up from her own stack of books and craned her neck around my shoulder to see what I was pointing at. I knew when the full realization of what I was holding hit her—her jaw dropped. “That’s an Index!”

“I know,” I answered, stroking the binding reverently. “Can you believe it? No wonder Huish recognized my family name! He had this as a reference.”

“The knowledge of family bloodlines for Chahir in that book alone,” she breathed, shaking her head, “it’s indescribable. Even The Remnant doesn’t have a full copy, just what they could remember.”

I wrapped the book carefully and put it into a crate. “We need to get this to the Trasdee Evondit Orra as quickly as possible.”

“No kidding.” Chatta marked the crate with a spell to where we could find it easily later. “There is the oddest collection of things in here. I found two books on defensive spells alone.”

That certainly explained a lot of things.

“What do you think about Donalaiden coming with us?”

I glanced at her face, but she was so neutral in expression and voice that I couldn’t tell what she thought of it. “Maybe he really has repented for what he’s done—Xiaolang thinks so. I’m still too angry with the man to be objective. As long as he stays away from Asla, and her children, I frankly don’t care where he is.”

A small, amused smile quirked her mouth up. “You really don’t hold grudges, do you?”

“Not typically, no.”

We spent the whole time packing pointing things out to each other. As large as the room was, though, it didn’t take long to get everything ready to transport. We were a good team; we had worked together so often that we just knew how the other would move.

Xiaolang found us just as Chatta was finishing marking the last crate. “Ah, I see we’re done already. I think I have everyone ready to move now. Garth, we’re putting them all outside, well away from all the soldiers. I think we should be ready in a half hour or so to leave.”

I nodded in acknowledgement. “Speaking of which, what do you want me to do with all of those soldiers and priests?”

Xiaolang’s forehead wrinkled as he thought about it for a long moment. “Just release them from their stone shackles and leave them here. I don’t hold with killing unarmed men.”

I had half-expected this answer, and just nodded. “Fine.” I was planning on having a little chat with them first, though.

“Chatta, do you need a help with those boxes?” Xiaolang inquired.

“No, I’ve put a transportation spell on them,” she answered with a winsome smile. “They’re ready to move when I say so.”

Xiaolang had seen enough of her magic to where he could just accept this with a nod. “Then let’s finish cleaning up so we can go to Hain.”

~*~

The soldiers were stripped of equipment, supplies, and weapons—considering that it was Shad that was in charge of that duty, they were lucky to not be stripped right down to their underwear. Then I cheerfully transported them a good two miles away, just in case they had any ideas of running for help. Shad watched, a demented smile on his face.

Not one person dared to complain.

With that expression on his face, Shad can be pretty scary.

While Shad was doing that, I created graves for the soldiers that had fallen and buried them. Chatta had one soldier tell her the name of dead and she erected quick gravestones. We didn’t want the families of these men to forever wonder where their sons or husbands were buried. It was an unpleasant task and I was relieved when it was done.

Once the soldiers were gone, I focused on the Star Order Priests. They were a sad lot, now, with all of their weapons broken. Even those fancy robes of theirs were dirty and ripped.

I stood there studying them for several moments. Xiaolang joined me, staring at them as well. “So, what do we do with them?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed heavily, feeling a headache brewing. “We can’t just turn them loose.”