Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion) (17 page)

“
I
was only joking!” the fire magician laughed.

“
Quiet
both of you! Time is of the essence!” Xander Necros commanded and both men fell
silent. To Byrn, Xander said reassuringly, “Go ahead. I know you can do it,”
and the others voiced their agreement.

“
I
wish I shared your confidence in me,” Byrn lamented quietly.

The
apprentice focused as Ryonus taught him on the index finger of his right hand.
Pointing at his left wrist he willed his fingernail to grow until it formed a
sharp, claw-like point and reached the skin. Byrn closed his eyes not wishing
to think about what he was about to do. With a deep breath he slashed the nail
across the wrist cutting the skin.

“
Ah
gods!” the young magician cursed at the sudden pain. Drops of blood dripped
from the small cut. “I'm bleeding now. Not much, just enough.”

“
It
is time,” urged Ryonus. “Are you ready to cast the spell of transportation?”

“
Yes,
I think so,” said Byrn. He turned over the rune to see a destination written on
it. It said, “Circle of Ilipse.” He heard of Ilipse. It was a city to the south
although Byrn was unsure just how far south it lay. He had no clue what the
“circle” was, but was sure he was about to find out.

Concentrating
on the rune, Byrn's body began to feel lighter as if he could lift himself off
the ground. Blood flowed from his wrist and circled his body in a light mist.

Suddenly
he felt his body hit the floor. He fell to his hands and knees banging his
right knee hard. The apprentice had failed the transportation.

“
That
did not sound good,” said Fredrik, a little concerned.

“
Do
not give up. Remember what Ryonus taught you. Lighter than air. Translucent.
Gone,” Xander urged him on hurriedly knowing that Byrn was racing against time
before the runes in his cell drained the power he had managed to build up
during training.

Again
Byrn concentrated on the rune as he willed his body lighter as if it weighed
nothing. He imagined his skin was translucent like that of a ghost. And gone...

He
fell to the ground again this time releasing an audible grunt of pain when he
landed on the floor once more.

“
I
can do this,” Byrn told himself although he felt his body steadily growing
weaker from the exertion. His left hand and arm were covered in blood and a
sense of light-headedness threatened to overtake him.

The
blood flowed around him encompassing the young elementalist in a red haze. He
barely noted that the runes were growing brighter reacting to the amount of
magic he was using as it tried to drain the blood source more rapidly in
response. He wished he could make it to Ilipse as if getting away from Baj
would make everything all better. He focused on the rune for the third time and
felt his body lighten. Byrn looked at his hand clutching the rune and could see
through it to the floor as the blood mist swirled around him going faster and
faster. He closed his eyes and imagined himself plucked from the world like an
apple from a tree.

When
next he opened his eyes Byrn found he was floating weightless in a bright white
realm of nothingness. A mixture of fear and awe filled him for the briefest of
moments as he stared out into a nothingness that felt as if it somehow both
ended at his fingertips and extended into eternity. It only lasted for a moment
though before he felt his body being pulled downward or possibly upward. It was
difficult to tell which direction he was moving in if he was really moving at
all.

He
blinked and Byrn found that he was staring into a great blue expanse instead of
a great white one. His body felt heavy like it was made of stone. The very
thought of moving seemed too taxing to comprehend so he just stared into the
calm blueness. It took a few more seconds for Byrn to realize what he was
looking at and once he did his body shot up to a sitting position finding
strength the elementalist thought he no longer possessed. It had been more than
a year since the last time he saw the sky.

Looking
around Byrn found he was lying in a small garden surrounded by stone blocks arranged
in a circle around him. No, they were not blocks exactly. They were benches.

A
young girl no more than eight years old with blonde hair wearing a pretty blue
dress sat on one of the benches looking at him curiously. If she was surprised
by his sudden arrival she showed no sign of it.

“
Hello,
my name is Marisa,” said the young girl, “What is your name?”

Byrn
smiled at her warmly and his heartbeat started to slow. Until that moment he
had not realized that it had been beating with the same ferocity of a
racehorse. “My name is Byrn. Can you tell me where we are?”

The
little girl giggled, “You are being silly.”

“
No,
I am serious. Is this the city of Ilipse?” he asked calmly not wishing to
inadvertently scare the girl. At her age, if he saw someone appear out of thin
air as she must have, then he would have ran away in terror.

“
This
is Ilipse,” said a golden haired woman walking up behind Marisa. She was a few
years older than Byrn and very attractive although there appeared to be a hint
of sadness in her eyes. She stopped behind the girl and placed her hand on the
little one's shoulder. Byrn guessed that they were mother and daughter. “But it
is not a city,” the woman added, “Ilipse is one of the magicians’ domains.”

“
Where
did he go?!” Warden Saradan Dungeonlord shouted with rage. An impossibly large
vein pulsed on the large man's thick neck as his normally pale face turned dark
red mimicking the blood boiling in his veins.

Byrn's
iron door was wide open revealing the empty cell that was giving the burly
warden and his two guardsmen severe indigestion. The floor was covered with
spatters of dried blood leaving the only clue to the prisoner's escape. Xander
Necros suppressed a laugh as he watched the three men through the eye slit in
his door investigating the barren room. He knew they had no idea how Byrn
managed to escape. The spell he used was fairly difficult for someone of the
young man's experience even under ideal circumstances. Normally a
transportation spell is only attempted once a magician has become an adept in
manipulation magic and requires the instruction of a grimoire until he becomes
more comfortable with the process, but Byrn did it in just a few attempts while
locked in an anti-magic chamber without the aid of a grimoire or staff. That
spoke wonders for his natural talent and magical skill. He was a truly
remarkable lad and if he managed to evade the Kenzai hunters for the next
decade or so he could become one of the most powerful sorcerers alive. Given a
few lifetimes his power might even be enough to rival the grandmaster’s own.

Mantellus
showed no such restraint and let out a loud derogatory laugh. “Did you check
the privy, Warden? Be sure to stick your nose way down there.”

Whirling
around to face his ridiculer Saradan drew his sword and banged it by the hilt
against the fire wielder's door with a loud clang. His attempt to silence
Mantellus was met with more laughter. Saradan Dungeonlord did not understand
just how dangerous someone like Mantellus was. While many men grew used to
killing or even grew to love it in the course of battle there were few in the
world like Mantellus. He was a man who killed simply because he could. He took
the same pleasure in murdering a defenseless woman, as he would take from
bedding her. What many people in the kingdom of Aurelia failed to understand
was that it was not the magic or the lust for power that made some magicians
violent like the Firekin. They were simply deranged individuals with a very
powerful weapon at their disposal. If Saradan understood this then maybe he
would have been more cautious when he decided to open Mantellus' cell to teach
the prisoner a lesson.

“
I
think we need to start interrogating the prisoners,” snorted the warden. He
looked into the slit of Mantellus' door at the redheaded magician and with a
gleam of hatred in his eye added, “Start with this one.”

The
guard to the warden's right moved to the door with a ring of keys in hand.
Sorting through them quickly, he found the one he needed and inserted it into
the lock. With a twist of the guard’s wrist and the sound of tumblers falling
into place the lock was undone. A lock was such a simple thing and yet it held
so many powerful people captive for years on end. The guard turned the door's
handle and began to pull it open when the fire magician kicked it slamming the
door into the guard's face and knocking him soundly to the ground.

Before
Mantellus Firekin discovered his penchant for magical mayhem he was a teamster
making a living loading and unloading trader's wagons so he was a muscular man
if a little lithe making the elementalist a strong and fast opponent with a
bloodthirsty cunning. Xander considered him a formidable opponent for an unwary
foe even without his magic. Like a bolt of lightning Mantellus flew from his
cell. A deafening war cry bounced off the walls and doors in the confined
circle of the cell cluster. Saradan failed to see the prisoner's fist come
crashing square into his nose- breaking it and sending the warden reeling
backwards.

The
guard that was not hit with the door reacted quickly. The Kenzai guard pulled
his baton free and swung it in a sidelong arch to bash the magician's skull in
one fluid motion, but Mantellus ducked under the blow throwing the guard off
balance.

Mantellus’
right fist flew up to the guard's face catching him in the chin and knocking
him to the ground.

“
Behind
you!” shouted Ryonus.

Turning
Mantellus saw Saradan's blade thrusting towards his gut and he sidestepped out
of the way, but the sword still managed to catch him with a glancing slice. He
screamed in pain as he fell on top of the guard he hit with the door who was
clearly unconscious. Mantellus grabbed the man's club and used it to deflect
the warden's downward strike. Then he brought the weapon into his opponent's kneecap.
The warden was wearing plate armor with chain at the joints, but that chain
provided no protection to the crushing power of the truncheon. Saradan
staggered, but kept to his feet by using his sword as an impromptu crutch.

Xander
Necros recognized the look on the elementalist's face. He was trying in vain to
harness the power of the blood source pouring from his side, but found no magic
there. Mantellus was weakening and getting desperate.

Forcing
himself to his feet Mantellus charged the warden hoping to get inside of his
sword making the weapon nearly useless. Tackling the man Mantellus punched him
in the face repeatedly. In his blood lust he did not notice the second guard's
approach.

Fortunately
the other prisoner's did. “To your right,” shouted Fredrik and Mantellus
instantly reacted grabbing the warden's sword and shoving it as hard as he
could into the man's gut through his armor.

The
guard fell forward towards Mantellus and he grabbed the sword with his left
hand as he shoved the body away with his right forcing it to fall away from him
with the same indifference that another man might have pushing aside a shirt on
a clothesline.

Mantellus
got to his feet slowly. The battle was over and he had won, but his strength
was nearly spent. Hefting the sword he turned it blade down and put it to the
warden's neck.

“
Do
you want to beg?” he asked. There was hatred in the killer’s voice, but also a
disturbing bit of playfulness.

“
Just
open the cells,” Fredrik told him before the warden could respond.

“
Fredrik,
sometimes you are bore. You know that?” Mantellus sliced his prey's throat.

The
fire elementalist paused over the unconscious guard's body for a moment. The
man was no longer a threat. Xander wondered if Mantellus paused to consider
whether to end the Kenzai guard's life or simply to savor the moment of a
defenseless kill. In the end the reason did not matter, because the result was
the same. The fire weaver shoved the blade into the guard's throat as well.

Mantellus
retrieved the key from his cell door and used it to open Fredrik's cell next to
his. Once Fredrik was out Mantellus took the opportunity to rest and sat
abruptly on the floor against the small partition between the two cells leaving
the rest to his fellow elementalist.

Fredrik
released the remaining prisoners of the cluster from their cells and took the
sword from Mantellus. Elementalists were naturally more aggressive than other
magicians and tended to be better fighters with both weapons and magic making
him the natural choice to wield the piercing weapon while Ryonus and Tell took
the two truncheons. Being the oldest of the group Xander was content to assist
Mantellus to his feet and help support him, putting the younger man's arm
around his neck, careful not to put undue pressure on his wound.

For
the first time in years the magicians were free from their cells. Maybe it was
a just reward from the gods for helping their youngest member escape from Baj
or simple luck. The cause for their good fortune mattered little to the
necromancer who was just happy to have the chance at his own freedom. They
headed in the direction they saw the guards take Byrn on many occasions
thinking it would lead to the entrance.