Magus (Advent Mage Cycle) (49 page)

“Granda, what’s wrong?” Nolan frowned, growing upset at the older man’s lingering silence.

He couldn’t keep ignoring this. Whispers were already traveling all through the palace, insinuations about the prince’s true nature. It had progressed past the point where he could pretend that nothing was wrong. And the Star Order…they were no longer simply whispering behind his back. Vonlorisen dropped to his knees, putting his eyes level with the boy’s. “Nolan, how did you know?”

The boy shrugged, bewildered by the question. “I could feel them. Can’t you do that, Granda?”

Vonlorisen shook his head, throat constricting. That was the one answer he had been dreading to hear. “No, my boy, I can’t feel what you do. And I can’t talk to animals like you do.”

Nolan blinked, bemused by this knowledge. “Why can I do it, when no one else can?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Is it bad, Granda?” Nolan was too young to really understand how his country worked, but he could see that his grandfather was obviously upset.

He hesitated, unsure on how to answer that question. Side-stepping the issue, he asked instead, “Do you think it’s bad, Nolan?”

Nolan gave a bewildered shake of the head. “Why would it be bad? This doesn’t hurt anyone. I can help. I can see things other people don’t. And the animals can tell me how to help them. That can’t be bad, can it, Granda?”

Vonlorisen looked into that innocent, trusting face and found that he could not say
Yes, it’s bad. Don’t you realize what you are?
There was no way that his grandson, his
only
grandson, was guilty of all of the accusations the Star Order heaped upon people with magical abilities. He was a
child
, curse it. An innocent child.

Similar words, from nearly nine months ago, came back to him.
"In Del'Hain, there is a five year old Mage like myself,”
the young Earth Mage had declared.
“Do you suspect him of such unholy practices? This is not some unnatural power, but a gift—as other people are born with gifts. You do not suspect people gifted with musical or artistic ability to be servants of some dark purpose! Why then should people with magical gifts be under such harsh suspicion?"

Was that Mage right?

“Granda?”

Vonlorisen looked into the eyes of his grandson, and for the first time in his life, started questioning everything he thought he believed.

~*~

That wasn’t where he let the matter rest. He couldn’t just accept it that easily. Late into the night, when most of the Palace was retiring, he went into the family archives. He went back two hundred years in the records, and started tracing his way through the family tree from there.

It took hours, and several generations before he found what he was looking for. Dread nearly choked him as he read the inconspicuous line.

Vonresken, Life Mage. After Founding 26-102.

“My great-great-great grandfather was a Life Mage,” he breathed, eyes closing in pain.

For a long, long time, the King of Chahir sat in the dark, staring at that one line entry. The single light from the candle on the desk was on the verge of flickering out when he rose stiffly to his feet, walking toward the front of the archives. A wizened little man sat waiting for him, twisting his hands together in agitated motions.

“Ti—” Vonlorisen had to clear his throat before he could speak. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “Tittles. Summon Saroya and have him meet me here.”

Tittles stiffened, understandably alarmed. Having the Head of the Special Forces summoned in the dead of the night (to the archives of all places!) did not speak of good and happy things. “Yes, Sire!”

Vonlorisen watched the ancient archivist scurry out and prayed that he was making the right decision.

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.

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For a pronunciation guide and more information about this series, please visit the website at:

http://www.adventmage.net46.net/

….

Now, for a sneak preview of the next book, Advent, please “turn” the page…

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Chapter One: Heritage

Drip, drip, drip.

I eyed the icicle hanging from the roof with mixed emotions. The snow was melting, which meant spring was hovering on the horizon, tensed to pounce the moment that winter let its guard down. When that happened, it meant that the team would be going back into Chahir to search for magicians again.

It would also mean that I was out of Guin’s immediate reach.

Right now, I wasn’t sure which one I preferred.

In the four months that I had been home, I had gotten very little rest. Because of the thick snows covering the roads, I was one of the few magicians that could travel around the country. The fact that I was faster than more conventional methods was just an added bonus. And if the situation demanded skills other than mine? Well, then I got to take whatever Witch or Wizard that needed to go somewhere by way of the earth path. Most days, I wasn’t sure if I were coming or going. I hadn’t had time to shop for a house, much less use any of my vacation time!

Night definitely has a point. Being accessible to Guin is not conducive to a peaceful lifestyle.

This was one of those rare moments when I was home—not in my own apartment at the Palace, but at my parent’s house—without an emergency hanging over my head.

“Garth!” my mother’s voice called from the front door. “There’s a message for you!”

I eyed the back door, only feet away from me, and judged whether or not I could make it outside before she could catch me. Once outside, I could disappear in the earth, and
no one
could find me there…

“It’s not from Guin,” she added in rich amusement.

What, the woman reads minds now? But if it wasn’t from Guin, who was it from? Curiosity compelled me out of my chair and into the front room. “Whose seal is on it?”

“There’s no seal,” she denied as she handed it over.

Actually, there was. She just didn’t recognize it as such. There was a complicated braid of silver string, black leather, and rich mahogany hair wrapped around the parchment. I recognized it instantly. “This is Roha of Del’s braid.” Now why would she be contacting me in the dead of winter? She often sent letters inquiring about how Trev’nor was doing, but not during the months where it was nearly impossible to get letters through. And I had just sent her a long letter about Trev’nor three months ago…

“The Tonkawacon woman that raised Trev’nor?” Mom stared at the letter in my hands with renewed interest. “This must be very important for her to send a letter in winter.”

Very important or very dire. I didn’t say that aloud. I knew better than to try and unravel that braid—it was more likely that I’d tangle my own fingers attempting it—so I took a knife from my belt and just cut it off. The parchment was a bit wet at one corner, but as I unrolled it, I was relieved to find nothing smudged or illegible.

Garth,
it read:

I received your last letter. Thank you for telling this old woman what her adopted son has gotten into. I can tell he is adjusting fine.

A year ago, when I gave him to you, I had not expected to find anyone to properly train the boy. There is much that I still have, things that belonged to his parents that I’ve kept over the years. While you are in Hain, come see me. I wish to tell you what little I know of the boy’s parentage and history. Your last letter indicated that bloodlines of Mages are very important. I have some evidence of what Trev’nor’s heritage is.

I wish I could be more specific, but they are in Chahirese, and that is not a language I can read. But I trust that you can, eh? Travel toward the Beor Mountains, just northwest of Jward, and you’ll find our camp.

Bring Trev’nor with you. I want to see the rascal.

Roha of Del

I felt like my breath had been knocked out of me. Trev’nor was Chahiran? Or at least, all the evidence pointed in that direction… I lowered the letter so that I could look at my mother’s face. “I need to go to Roha of Del as quickly as possible.”

She went taut, alarmed at this statement. “Is something wrong?”

“Important,” I corrected. “She never told me that she has Trev’nor’s parent’s effects. She knows a little about his heritage. We’ve always wondered what nationality Trev’nor is—it never occurred to me that Roha knew it and just hadn’t mentioned it.”

“Did she tell you in the letter?”

“She made reference to it. Apparently, something his parents had was written in Chahirese.”

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I always suspected he was, considering his looks.”

I shook my head, frustrated because I knew that she wasn’t catching the full nuance of that statement. “Mom, the only Chahiran Mages that were Earth Mages are of the Rheben bloodline.” The Index we found in Chahir four months ago had confirmed that fact.

Her mouth soundlessly dropped. “Good heavens,” she breathed. “Then Trev’nor…”

“Is related to us somehow, if Roha is right, and that language
is
Chahirese.”

“Go saddle Night,” she ordered abruptly. “I’ll pack a bag for you. I think you need to leave right now.”

“I agree completely.” I rolled the letter back up and stuck it in my pocket as I quickly made my way outside. Night was not in his stall, but rubbing his forehead against the porch railing. Trying to scratch an itch, I guessed. “Night, we need to go.”

“
Not another assignment from Guin!”
he wailed in protest.
“We just got home yesterday.”

“Not that,” I disagreed. “I just got a letter from Roha of Del.”

He gave me an odd look.
“In the dead of winter?”

“It was a very important letter. She knows something of Trev’nor’s parents.”

Night abandoned his scratching altogether, standing alert. “
That’s pretty important information. Did she tell you?”

“No, not really. But she did say that she thinks he’s Chahiran.”

“But the only Earth Mages are…”
he trailed off, ears pricked.

“I know. I think we need to get up there quickly. I want answers, and I want them now. Let me throw a saddle on you, and then we’ll go get Trev.”

Night held perfectly still while I quickly strapped his saddle on. Mom came out before I was even finished, throwing my very worn saddlebags on and tying them into place for me.

“How long do you expect to be gone?” Mom asked as I threw myself onto Night’s back.

“Probably a few weeks,” I admitted. “Trev’nor will want to properly visit with everyone while we’re there.” And this way, I can
finally
get a proper break.

“All right. Take care. You too, Night.”

Night rubbed against her cheek in an affectionate gesture that almost knocked my mother right on her rear in the snow. “
Bye, Jaylan.”

Catching her balance on the edge of the stall, she laughed and waved us away.

Night took us directly to the Palace grounds, and the small wing that housed Allan and Liah Gaines, Trev’nor’s adopted parents. Giving him to that couple had been one of the best decisions ever made. They both adored Trev’nor, and were very tolerant of all the Tonkawacon quirks he had. The first morning Liah woke up with two braids in her hair, she hadn’t even blinked. Allan told me that she just started laughing, claiming that she had half-expected to gain braids at some point. Allan was grateful his hair was too short to braid anything into. I noticed that he kept his hair that short, not tempting fate.

Since gaining Trev’nor, they had been moved into a slightly larger apartment so that their new son could have his own room. Other than that, it could almost be a mirror of my rooms in the Palace.

Night twisted his head to look at me as I slid off his back.
“In the essence of time, why don’t I go tell Haben where we’re going while you get Trev’nor? You know that Liah will pump you for information first.”

“So will Haben,” I responded ruefully. “It’s a good idea, Night. Go for it. I’ll meet you here?”

“
Sure.
” With a flick of his tail, he turned and headed back toward the main building.

I’d barely knocked when Liah opened the door. She was in the brown uniform of the Jaunten, so I assumed that she was either heading for or just coming back from doing something official. “Garth, this is a nice surprise.”

“Hello, Liah. May I come in?”

“Of course, of course.” She stepped back to give me room to enter. “Your timing is quite good, actually. Trev’nor has been pestering me about you. He’s been feeling neglected.”

“I hope he realizes that’s Guin’s fault?”

She gave me a serious nod that was at odds with her laughing eyes. “Yes, they’ve had many serious discussions about it.”

Yes, I bet they’ve had. It’s a shame I missed listening to one of those; that was sure to be priceless. I rubbed at my lips to erase a growing smile. “Is that so. Hm.”

“So are you here to kidnap him for a while?”

“It’s a bit more serious than that,” I warned her. “I just received a letter from Roha of Del, you see, and—”

Trev’nor’s bedroom door jerked open and a small, delighted face popped into view. “Garth!”

“Hey, scamp.” I bent slightly, catching him as he threw himself into my arms with a patented Trev’nor Tackle. I barely had him seated in my arms before he was demanding, “How long are you home?”

“Not long,” I admitted, trying not to smile as instant disappointment flooded his face. “But
this
time, you’re coming with me.”

His disappointment instantly morphed into a brilliant smile. “Really? Where are we going?”

“We need to see Roha of Del.”

Trev’nor frowned, concern starting to dint his joy. “Is something wrong?”

Considering that no one sane travels during winter (but me) that was a valid question. “No, but she has some very serious information for us. Trev, she has some of your parent’s—your birth parents—things. She wants to pass those things onto you. Among those things, she tells me, is proof of your heritage.”