The Mage of Trelian (10 page)

Calen thought carefully about what to say. What would he have said if this had happened yesterday? Would he have asked whether something was wrong?

Maybe?

“Is something wrong?” he asked, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Mage Krelig’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“I don’t know, boy. Why don’t you tell me?”

Calen fought panic. This could be about
anything.
Or nothing.
Don’t give yourself away, curse you.

“Did you — did you want me to bring the other mages down for dinner? I didn’t know . . .”

“Don’t play the fool with me,” Krelig said. His voice was doing that scary calm thing that sometimes preceded violent action. “Something is different about you. I can tell. What is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mage Krelig didn’t move, but Calen saw the red energy a second before he felt the blinding pain in his head. He screamed and jerked backward, knocking over his chair and falling to the floor. The pain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Mage Krelig was still seated, still looking at him calmly.

“What is it?” Krelig asked again.

Calen was suddenly furious.
Good!
he thought frantically.
Use that — fury is better than fear.

And it was.

Without another second of thought, he sent his own red-energy spell at Krelig. He wasn’t quite able to do it without moving his hand, though, and Krelig’s eyes widened as he realized what Calen was doing. He blocked the spell easily, but seemed caught off-guard by it all the same. “What —?”

“You want to know what’s wrong? I’ll tell you!” Calen said, pushing himself up off the floor. “What did you bring those other mages here for?”

“What? You knew —”

“I knew you were going to get other mages to turn against the Magistratum. I didn’t know you were going to bring them here and turn this place into a boardinghouse! I didn’t know you were going to parade me in front of them and tell them how unimpressive I was. You brought me here because
I
was the one you needed, the one who was going to help you. I didn’t want to come, I
never
wanted to, but you
made
me! You took me away from
everything,
made them all hate me — and now you’re just going to bring in a bunch of other mages and — and . . .”

Krelig stared at him in astonishment, then burst out laughing.

Calen just stood there, breathing hard. He had no idea what that meant. He had no idea where that little speech had come from, either, for that matter. He had just been trying to think of something, anything to distract Krelig. He didn’t really feel that way. Did he?

“Oh —” Krelig said, as soon as the laughter subsided enough that he could speak. “Oh, Calen. Is that — is that really what this is about? Are you
jealous
?” He started laughing again, but not quite as uncontrollably this time. He pointed at the chair. “Sit down, sit down. Let me explain some things to you.”

Calen righted his chair and sat back down at the table, eyeing the mage warily.

Still chuckling, Krelig wiped at his eyes and then made a little gesture with his hand, which made a goblet of wine appear before him on the table in a burst of purple energy. “You’re not being replaced, my boy, although I’m touched to know that you would care so much.” His tone conveyed just enough sarcasm to suggest he knew that Calen didn’t really care in any way that indicated affection or loyalty, but Calen thought the older man was a little affected by Calen’s outburst all the same. Maybe just by the idea that there was anything at all keeping Calen here other than his inability to leave.

“You are the one I need — make no mistake. My visions were quite clear about that. With you by my side, I cannot fail. Without you . . . my success is not guaranteed. I would probably still achieve my goals . . . but not definitely. Not for certain. And I’m not about to leave anything to chance. Not this time.” He paused, and Calen wondered if he was remembering whatever had gone wrong the last time he’d faced the other mages, all those years ago, when they’d beaten him and exiled him forever. Or what they thought would be forever. For a moment, Krelig’s face went still and he seemed to be looking inward, at something he did not like at all. He almost looked . . . afraid. And then he gave his head a little shake and refocused on Calen. His expression cleared, and he went on as though he’d never stopped.

“Believe me when I say that I need you with me, Calen. I will never cast you aside. You and I are going to do great things together; never fear.” His eyes glinted with apparent excitement at those great things, and he took a sip of his wine. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t need others to stand with us. We are powerful, you and I, more than any of these other so-called mages, but we can still use them to our advantage, to make us stronger — do you see?”

“Yes, but —”

“Of course,” Krelig went on, his smile fading, “we’re only going to do great things together if you stop resisting your full power.”

Calen felt his hands curl into fists almost of their own volition. He was so tired of this conversation.

“I am
not
—”

“What did I tell you about saying no to me?”

Calen knew he should be scared, but all he could feel was anger. Anger at being threatened and beaten and tortured when he didn’t learn quickly enough. Anger at everything Krelig was planning to do to the people and the world that Calen loved. Anger that Krelig knew so much,
so much,
and it was all going to waste.

“Then stop telling me I’m resisting!” Calen shouted. “If you’d stop saying things to me that aren’t true, I wouldn’t have to say no to you, would I?”

Krelig’s eyes blazed with fury. “You insolent —”

“What are you going to do — hurt me? Like this?” He lashed out, sending another blood-red spell at his new master. Krelig blocked it even as he remained otherwise completely still, apparently mesmerized by Calen’s behavior. “And this? And this?” He climbed out of his chair and backed away, not to run, but because he suddenly felt too confined, he needed more room, he needed more space around him to draw in the energy. Krelig just sat and watched him, anger and astonishment and an odd sort of curiosity warring in his expression.

“I’m tired of being punished for nothing!” Calen went on. He kept sending bolt after bolt of energy at Krelig. He didn’t care that they weren’t landing, that Krelig would be able to block anything he sent before it so much as grazed him. It felt so good just to be sending them. To just let go of all the fear and caution and attack with everything he had. It felt more than good. It felt wonderful.

He fired again and again, and when he next spoke, he heard his voice grow stronger and louder with each phrase. “Stop telling me I’m not trying!” he screamed. “Stop telling me I’m resisting! Does it look like I’m resisting to you?” He punctuated that last question with a swirling ball of fiery red-black-orange and sent it straight at Krelig’s hateful face.

He watched it shatter into pieces against the shield that Krelig had, somewhat hastily, flung up to block it.

Calen stopped then, abruptly spent. He didn’t think he could manage to light a candle right at that moment. He stood, the room silent except for his own labored breathing and the pounding of his heart. But it still wasn’t fear that was causing it. He stood, not afraid, waiting to see what Krelig would do.

“No,” Krelig said finally, his voice soft, but not quite in the way it tended to be when he was most angry. Calen didn’t hear any anger his voice. It sounded more like . . . wonder.

Krelig leaned back in his chair. Incredibly, he grinned. “No,” he said again. “It doesn’t look like you’re resisting at all. Not anymore.”

Calen blinked. Then, in a great rush, he realized what the man meant.

He thought again about how good it had felt to let go. To
let go.
To stop . . . doing whatever he’d been doing before. Holding back. He hadn’t known it; he’d been sure that he was trying as hard as he could . . . but Krelig had been right. He had been holding back.

But not anymore.

The spells he’d used to attack Krelig in the last few moments had been stronger than anything he had ever tried to cast before. They still hadn’t touched Krelig, but that didn’t matter. They had been . . . fuller. More complete. For the first time, he had truly accessed his full power.

Before he could help it, he found himself grinning back.

It was true. He was a lot stronger than he had ever imagined.

Krelig had him sit back down and actually got him a drink of water.

“Felt good, didn’t it, boy?”

“Yes,” Calen said. He took a long slow sip from the cup Krelig offered him. There was no point in denying it.

“It will be easier now,” Krelig said. “Now that you’ve accessed it once, you will be able to do so again.
That’s
what real power feels like, Calen. You are beginning to discover just how strong you truly are.”

He walked back around the table and sat facing Calen again. All traces of his earlier anger and suspicion were gone.

“We’ve come far together, the two of us, and we will go farther still. There are so many wondrous things in store . . . and I can see how much you enjoy the learning. You can’t conceal that in the slightest. How much you like what you can do, how much stronger you’re becoming. I know exactly how that feels. You love it as much as I do. And now you’ll love it even more.”

Krelig drained the rest of his wine and stood up. “Embrace the path you’re on, my boy. Trust me: the less powerful will never be able to accept or understand you. Not now, and certainly not when you reach your full potential. I’m glad to hear you’ve started to accept that your former friends won’t want you back at this point. These things may seem like terrible prices to you now, but in time you will see that they were really just burdens, holding you back. I will show you what it means to have true power, and you will come to know that it is worth everything you give up in order to get it.”

He walked away.

Calen sat, chilled, shocked, confused, exhilarated, listening to the sound of Krelig’s fading footfalls.

If Krelig had said those things to him yesterday, Calen might have begun to believe them. But his friends hadn’t given up. They did want him back.

Do they really?
asked the voice in his head.
Are you sure? What if they get you back, and then they realize you’re not the same Calen that they knew? That they loved? What if you come back and they realize you’ll never be the same again? Might they turn you away then? Once they see what you’ve become?

Shut up!
He hadn’t become anything. He was the same person he’d always been. Or — at least — not different enough to count as being someone else. He was still himself. They would see that. He knew they would.

He made himself get up and take his plate to the counter. He left the other plates sitting where they were and turned to go back to his room. He had plenty to keep him busy, which was good, because he didn’t want to think about this anymore. He had to think about what he had done, exactly, to access his full power. He was glad to be too tired to cast anything right now, because the temptation to experiment was nearly overwhelming, and Calen didn’t think he was ready for that. Soon, maybe. But not yet.

He had to think some more about his plan to escape, now that things were in motion.

His plan to get back to Trelian, and Serek, and to Meg. Who did still want him to come home. And would still be glad when he got there, no matter what Mage Krelig thought. And no matter how much stronger he might be.

They
will
be glad,
he said again in his head, defiantly.

The voice in his head didn’t say anything in response.

M
EG WAS UP ON JAKL’S BACK
before her mind had time to finish the thought. The dragon launched into the air, and they raced toward the sounds of battle. People swarmed below them; soldiers ran toward the fighting as everyone else ran for the castle. Another volley of arrows illuminated the scene, and Meg stared down, trying to sort out what was happening. The arrows were coming from beyond the outer wall, but there seemed to be fighting inside the wall as well.
Breached,
she thought with shock.
The wall’s been breached.
There
are enemies inside the walls.

The shock turned to appalled anger, and Jakl roared in response to what she was feeling. What they both felt, now. There was a momentary pause in the action below as everyone looked up.

Meg grinned savagely.
That’s right,
she thought.
You’re in trouble now.

The fighting renewed almost at once. The soldiers below were too close together; she couldn’t easily pick out Trelian’s men versus the invaders. But the enemy archers were on the other side of the wall.

Jakl banked sharply and circled around. When the next volley launched, he let loose a stream of dragonfire that incinerated the arrows midflight. By the time they swung around again, the archers were aiming at the dragon instead of the soldiers. Meg realized belatedly that she didn’t even have her training armor on, let alone anything intended for actual battle. She was still in her dress from earlier this afternoon.