The Mage of Trelian (24 page)

“That’s —” Anders studied Meg, then raised his eyebrows. “Well. That’s impressive. I couldn’t have done that.”

Calen abruptly felt very uncomfortable. “It wasn’t — I —”

Meg grabbed his hand again. “It’s okay. It’s more than okay. Thank you.” Her eyes were a little too wide, though. He thought she was trying really hard not to look frightened.

“If you’re ready,” Serek said, “maybe we could all go into the other room and talk for a bit.”

Calen nodded, and they all filed out into Serek’s study. Meg and Calen sat at the table. Serek perched on the edge of his desk. Anders leaned against the wall next to a row of empty cages. Well — not entirely empty. One of them still held a single crow, who was looking out at them curiously. Calen looked away, trying not to think about the one that Krelig had killed. He had promised it all kinds of rewards when he got home. Now it would never get them.

Meg looked around, and Anders said, “We sent Pela back to her room. She said to send for her when you need her. Although I guess you won’t need to now.”

They were all quiet for a minute. Then Serek cleared his throat. “It’s very good to see you back safe, Calen,” he said.

Calen glanced at him, trying to read his expression. Serek had never been very easy to read, though. “Thank you,” Calen said. “It’s very good to be back. Really. I’m just — it was difficult.”

“Being there? Or getting back?” Anders asked.

“Both,” Calen said. “I — I meant to bring a friend back with me. She didn’t make it.” He couldn’t make himself say the rest.
She died so that I could get away. She’s dead now because of me.

“Oh, Calen. I’m so sorry,” Meg said.

He nodded. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else about that right now.

Serek ran a hand through his hair. “We have . . . many questions, as you might imagine. But I know you have been through a lot. I won’t pretend to know exactly what that involved, although I do hope you will tell us what you can. But perhaps for tonight you should just get some rest.”

“No,” Calen said. “I don’t think I could sleep right now anyway. I’d rather get this part over with. What do you want to know first?”

Serek and Anders exchanged a glance.

“Has he been gathering followers?” Anders asked.

“Yes. There were more than forty mages with him when I left.”

“Forty!” Meg said. “That many?”

“Forty-four, actually. Or —” He thought of Helena’s dying scream. “I guess forty-three now.” He swallowed painfully, then hurried on. “He’s training us — training them to fight. To fight other mages, both individually and as an army. Nasty spells. Oh, and make sure everyone is prepared against being transported against their will.”

Serek and Anders looked at each other again. “Everyone?” Serek asked.

Calen stared at him. “Surely you’ve been preparing here, too — haven’t you? Serek, he’s going to put his plans into action very soon! You need to be ready!”

“Well, we’ve been discussing . . .”

“Discussing?”

“The Magistratum —”

“The Magistratum is falling apart!” Calen shouted. “Has fallen! Every mage who came to us — came to
Krelig
— from there confirmed it. You can’t sit around and wait for the Magistratum to get organized. Aren’t there — I thought more mages would have come here by now.”

“They have,” Serek said. “Not as many as have gone to Krelig, apparently, but . . . maybe thirty-five or so.”

“Thirty-seven,” Anders put in quietly. “Counting the three of us.”

“He’s been recruiting,” Calen said. “Haven’t you been recruiting?”

Serek and Anders looked at each other
again.
Calen wanted to shake them. “Well,
this
isn’t good,” he said, putting a hand to his forehead.

“Do you know what his plans are, Calen?” Serek asked.

Calen laughed, although it wasn’t at all funny, of course. “His plans are to destroy what’s left of the Magistratum, kill everyone who opposes him, and force every kingdom to accept him as some kind of supreme ruler. His plans are to go back to the way things were before the Magistratum, only even worse, because now he’ll be in charge of everything. And he’s crazy. Have I mentioned that he’s crazy? But so powerful. He’s going to tear down the whole world. Unless we stop him. But if you haven’t even —” He made himself stop. Scolding them wasn’t going to help anything. Even if it would be very satisfying. How could they not have . . . ? He took a breath. “But he was counting on having me on his side. He had a vision about that when he was still exiled. About how I had what he needed to defeat his enemies. I always assumed that meant the colors, but . . .”

When Calen didn’t continue, Serek asked, “But now you think he meant something else?”

Calen took another breath. “I’m . . . a
lot
stronger now. Than I was. A
lot
stronger. He kept telling me I was holding back, and I thought he was just, well, you know, still crazy, but . . . he wasn’t. About that, I mean.” He hesitated, then went on. “Also, something else has started happening with the colors.”

“Can you explain?” Serek asked. Anders was looking at him intently.

“I’ve . . . started seeing the colors early.”

“Early?” Anders asked.

“Before the mage actually begins the spell. A few seconds before.”

“But that’s — that’s not possible,” Anders said.

“Can you show us?” Serek asked.

Calen nodded. “Cast something.”

Serek looked around, then turned toward a plant on a shelf behind his desk. Calen saw green and purple energy dancing around Serek’s fingers. “Green and purple,” he said at once. “I can’t tell exactly what spell it is, but I would guess that you were going to make the plant grow larger. Just a bit larger, not very much.”

Serek stared at him.

“Is that right?” Anders asked.

“Yes,” Serek said. “But I hadn’t started. I had been just about to . . .” He turned to Anders. “You didn’t sense anything, did you?”

Anders shook his head. “I can’t feel it until something is actually being cast. Like . . . well, like everyone else.”

They tried a few more experiments, but not very many. Calen could see the colors early every time. He couldn’t always tell exactly what the spell was going to be, but he saw enough that he knew the general type of spell and could guess at its intention.

“That’s . . . amazing, Calen,” Serek said finally.

“Krelig doesn’t know. I hid it from him. From everyone. I thought . . . it seemed important not to let him know.”

“Yes,” Serek said. “Very important. This could be a significant advantage. Will be.”

“I should say so,” Anders agreed. “By the gods, Calen.”

Calen looked away, uncomfortable again.

“It’s getting very late,” Meg said. “Calen, are you sure you don’t want to try to rest now? You look . . . you look exhausted.”

He supposed it was true. “Maybe so. I don’t know how much else there is to tell, anyway. He’s preparing to fight; he’s training everyone who comes to him. He . . . killed at least two of the mages so far.” Oh. No, that wasn’t right. “Three,” he added softly.

“Killed them!” Meg said. “Why?”

“One tried to leave. One wasn’t learning fast enough. The third . . . did something he didn’t approve of.”
I’m so sorry, Helena.

Calen didn’t miss the shocked glances that passed among the others. He sighed. “It was terrible there, yes. Mage Krelig is crazy, and he’s unpredictable, and he’s evil. But he taught us a lot. I’m
so much
stronger. That part was already there, maybe, just — just locked away, but I’m faster, too.
He
taught me how to be fast. And so many more spells. His army is going to be very, very dangerous. Every day, we learned more. Every single day. If you haven’t been preparing . . .” He shook his head. “We need to get ready. Fast.”

“All right,” Serek said. “I think it might be a good idea for all of us to get some rest. It sounds like we are going to be very busy tomorrow.” He looked at Meg. “Do you need assistance getting back to your room, Your Highness?”

“I’ll walk her back,” Calen said.

“Thank you,” Meg said. She said her good-byes, and they started on their way. For a while they just walked in silence. Calen still couldn’t quite believe that he was there. He was really back. He’d envisioned his return a million times since the moment he left. But this was nothing like any of his imaginings. He was sure that he was glad to be back. He just couldn’t quite manage to
feel
glad about anything yet.

When they reached the door to her room, Meg turned to face him. She took his hands and looked into his eyes.

“You’re different,” she said.

“I know.”
I’m sorry.
He wanted to look away, but her gaze held him, and he couldn’t.

“But you’re still
you.
”

He swallowed. It was hard to make himself ask what he knew he was going to ask. Had to ask. When he spoke, it was almost a whisper. “Are you sure?”

She smiled at him. Not a happy smile, but one of her fierce dragon-girl smiles. The kind of smile he bet truly could have convinced the Lourin soldiers to surrender. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure.”

He tried to take in some of that surety. She did seem sure. He didn’t see any fear in her eyes now. Sadness, but no fear.

“Well,” he said, “if you say so, who am I to argue?”

She nodded and squeezed his hands, then let them go. “Exactly,” she said. Then she suddenly threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He hugged her back, as hard as he could.

“I’m so glad you’re back, Calen.” She spoke against his neck, not letting go. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too, Meg.” He felt something cold and scared inside him start to unravel and disappear. “Gods, me too.”

They stayed that way for a long time before they finally said good night.

The next morning, Serek called all the visiting mages together. There was a lot of commotion when they realized that Calen had returned. They shouted; they argued; they debated. Calen sat at the side of the meeting room, barely listening. This was why they weren’t going to be ready. This was why Mage Krelig was so effective in his teaching. No one argued with Krelig.

Anders was also sitting and watching, not participating in the arguing. He caught Calen’s eye across the long table in the center of the room. Calen suspected that Anders was thinking thoughts very similar to his own.

“We must take a vote!” one of the mages was saying. For about the hundredth time. “Serek, you must understand that this sudden reappearance of your wayward apprentice cannot —”

“Enough,” Serek said in a low but firm voice, cutting him off.

“But —”

“Enough!” Serek said again. “We are not debating this.”

The other mages exchanged glances.

“But, Mage Serek,” another said finally, “you can’t —”

“Look,” Serek said. “I realize that some of you are not sure whether to trust Calen. Some of you probably think there’s a chance that he’s still working for our enemy.” Some of the others nodded at this. “Maybe he’s only here as a spy!” Serek went on. “Maybe he’s going to find out our secrets and then go running back to his true master. Or maybe he’s just going to kill us all in our sleep one night!”

“Uh, Serek,” Anders put in, “I’m not sure this is helping.”

Serek waved him to silence. “None of that matters. I don’t care whether you trust Calen or not.
I
trust Calen.” He looked around at the others seated at the table. “You’ve been after me for months to agree to lead our faction against Mage Krelig. To officially declare ourselves as acting independently from the Magistratum and prepare to face Krelig on our own, along with anyone who wants to join us. You’ve been quite insistent that if we were to do this, if I were to officially take on this role, that many others would join our cause.”

“Are you . . . ?” another mage began, then looked around cautiously. “Are you finally saying that you will accept this responsibility, Mage Serek? I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we do feel strongly that if you were to agree to —”

“Yes,” Serek said. “I will make myself the leader of our rebellious little group, and officially invite all other mages who wish to join us against our enemy to do so. I will announce our intention to actively organize an army of mages to oppose Mage Krelig and initiate training to get us as ready as possible for the inevitable battle. I will petition King Tormon to allow us to base our operations here at his castle, which I’m fairly certain he will agree to. I will do everything in my power to end this floundering, frustrating inactivity we’ve been stuck in and move us all forward in the same direction toward our shared and essential goal.”

A mage with long, carefully styled white hair smiled at him across the table and stood up. “Well, that’s wonderful, Mage Serek! We can —”

“I will do these things,” Serek continued, speaking right over her, “only if you accept my word that Calen is on our side and refrain from any further dithering about voting on his trustworthiness or testing his loyalty or any other such nonsense. If you refuse, then I’m asking King Tormon to revoke his hospitality, send you all packing immediately, and let you find some other idiot to lead you against the greatest and most dangerous enemy our order has ever known.”

The room fell silent. Everyone stared at Serek, who sat back in his chair, waiting for their response. Calen realized that his mouth had dropped open and hastily closed it. He saw Anders do the same a second later.

“But — but we must . . .” The mage that Serek had cut off earlier trailed off, then tried again, almost wailing. “We need to
confer.
. . .”

“No,” Serek said. “You don’t. If we’re going to do this, then we’re going to do it my way. Or you can leave. I’m no longer interested in hearing any opposing opinions.”

Silence again. Calen was fascinated. And a little terrified. What if they said no?

Finally a younger mage at the far end of the table stood up. “I’m with you,” she said firmly. She looked around at the others, then at Calen. “Welcome back, Apprentice Calen. Happy to have you with us once more.”

Another mage stood up a second later, and then another. And then very soon they were all standing.