Thinblade (13 page)

Alexander interrupted, “Why would he do that?”

Anatoly looked around the room. Everyone waited in rapt attention. Alexander could almost see Jack taking notes in his head.

“Phane knew he couldn’t escape,” Anatoly continued with a shrug. “At least not anywhere on the Seven Isles. The Rebel Mage was a crafty old wizard and he’d managed to find Phane wherever he hid. For several years they played this game of cat and mouse until Phane simply had enough. So rather than constantly running and hiding, he fled to a place where he knew the Rebel Mage couldn’t follow. He fled into the future. The spell he cast stopped time for him and him alone. Within the obelisk of dark magic that has encased him for the past two thousand years, no time passed for Prince Phane.” Anatoly shook his head both marveling at the feat and disgusted by the result.

“But why wouldn’t the Rebel Mage just destroy the obelisk?” Alexander was starting to wish he’d spent more time reading the ancient histories in his father’s library.

“He tried. The story says he tried for a year to destroy the obelisk. He simply couldn’t. Nothing he did had any effect. He even tried to dig it up and move it, thinking he would take it out to sea and cast it in.” Anatoly grinned at that. “Imagine Phane’s surprise when he woke up on the bottom of the ocean?” Anatoly shook his head. “The thing wouldn’t budge.”

“The Rebel Mage was distraught,” Anatoly said. “He knew he’d cursed the world of the future to a terrible fate. When Phane woke, there would be no one with enough power to stop him. He’d be able to dominate the whole of the Seven Isles without challenge.”

“Why was he so sure there would be no one able to stop him? And what does this have to do with the mark on my neck?” Alexander could feel a rising sense of frustration. He’d kept these questions at bay for the past several days and now that he was facing them, he felt like he understood less with each answer.

Lucky took up the story. “Prince Phane is the last arch mage. He is the only arch mage alive anywhere on the Seven Isles. There are none who can hope to defeat him with magic.”

Alexander took a deep breath to suppress the feeling of hopelessness in the pit of his belly. “If there aren’t any wizards who can hope to kill him, then how am I expected to do it?” Before Lucky could answer, Alexander asked the more important question. “Why me? Why was I marked? Why was our bloodline cursed?”

Lucky took a deep breath, pursed his lips and began again. “We don’t really know why the Rebel Mage chose your bloodline, only that he did. You see, when he realized that Phane would be loosed on an unsuspecting future, he conceived of a plan to protect the future as best he could. The major parts of his plan that we know of are the curse, the magic circle, and the Rangers.” Lucky held up his hand to forestall Alexander’s next barrage of questions.

“We don’t know why he choose your bloodline, but the purpose of the curse is to identify the champion who will lead us in the coming struggle for freedom. The magic circle he placed around the Obelisk served to warn the world that Phane was awake and to activate the curse by branding you with the glyph of the House of Reishi. The Rangers exist to serve you in the coming war.”

Alexander was aghast. He sat, mouth agape, and stared at Lucky as if he’d just grown an arm out of his forehead. The questions were tumbling through his mind so quickly that he couldn’t grab hold of one and blurt it out. It was surreal. To think that he, a glorified ranch hand, was going to lead the Rangers against the tyrannical ambitions of a two-thousand-year-old arch mage. Alexander started laughing. Abigail looked worried. Jack and Owen shared a furtive glance but Anatoly and Lucky didn’t waver.

He chuckled as he looked into his mug of cider, then nodded and took a long pull, draining it completely. He swallowed, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and resumed staring into his empty mug.

“Why aren’t there any arch mage wizards?” Alexander finally found a question he could put words to.

“Ultimately, that was what the whole war was fought over. The Reishi had originally discovered the secret to making Wizard’s Dust…” Lucky’s voice trailed off as Alexander put his head into his hands.

“Every time I ask a question you go off about something else and set a dozen more questions rattling around in my head,” he complained.

“Patience, my boy,” Lucky said. “It’s a complicated explanation that requires some groundwork. These are things you should have been taught years ago but your parents insisted that you be allowed to just be a boy. They believed as we all did, that Darius would be the one marked if the curse was activated in this generation.

“Now, where was I… ah yes, the short answer is, there are no more arch mage wizards because the secrets to achieving that level of mastery were lost in the war. You’ve heard of the mana fast?”

Alexander nodded.

Lucky continued, “The mana fast is how wizards and witches are made. After much preparation and training and once their Master Wizard consents, an apprentice will undergo a weeklong fast, consuming nothing but water and Wizard’s Dust. It’s a trial of character that can be fatal to those who are unprepared and even to some who are. During this week of fasting, the apprentice undergoes great changes.” Lucky paused for emphasis. “They become open to the firmament that underlies all of creation.

“Once an apprentice has survived the mana fast, he becomes a novice wizard and the real work begins. Linking one’s mind to the firmament is always dangerous. Without sufficient discipline and control, a person’s mind can become lost in the stuff of creation.”

Alexander held up his hands to stop Lucky from continuing. “Okay, so wizards are made with the mana fast. Why can’t anyone become an arch mage?”

Lucky nodded. “An arch mage is made with a second mana fast, except the mage’s fast is longer and the quantity of Wizard’s Dust required is much greater. The truth is, if one could procure a sufficient quantity of Wizard’s Dust and survive the mage’s fast, one could become an arch mage. However, the process is supposed to be much more dangerous. The old histories state that over half who attempt it are lost and that the odds of surviving such an ordeal improve significantly with the assistance of another arch mage. Since the time of the Reishi War, those few wizards who were able to acquire enough Wizard’s Dust to make the attempt all perished. Over the centuries, Wizard’s Dust has become more and more scarce. Those who do come by it usually find far more productive uses for it.”

Alexander nodded as he considered his next question. “You told me my vision, the way I can see colors, comes from Mom and Dad. Isn’t that a form of magic?”

“It is, but it’s much more limited than the kind of magic a wizard or witch can wield. Wizard’s Dust is all around us. It’s a natural part of nature. It’s in the water we drink, the food we eat, and even the air we breathe. In its natural form, it’s a dust so fine that one grain can’t even be seen. It is the very stuff of life. Without it we wouldn’t even exist. The first wizards, even before the Reishi, found that this magical substance existed in high concentrations in certain natural springs. Those who drank this rare water found that they were able to wield small magic. Much later, they discovered that they could use the waters of these sacred springs to perform the mana fast. This discovery marks the dawn of wizardry.

“Your ability to see colors exists because you have an unusually high concentration of Wizard’s Dust in your blood because of your parents. They both survived the mana fast, so they both possess a greater amount of Wizard’s Dust and they passed some of it on to you.”

Abigail frowned, “Why didn’t Darius or I get any magic?”

Lucky nodded as he continued. “Not all who have naturally high levels of Wizard’s Dust in their blood manifest abilities. In fact, it’s very rare for one who hasn’t survived the mana fast to be able to use magic to any significant degree at all.”

“Okay, next question. What’s the firmament, why is it dangerous and how does a wizard use it to make magic?” Alexander was determined to learn as much as possible about magic while he could. He’d questioned Lucky about it in the past but the old alchemist would never reveal much. Alexander always suspected his parents had told Lucky to avoid the subject but he was never sure why.

He remembered the day he told his mom about the colors he could see. She’d looked very worried, even frightened. He spent the rest of the afternoon being peppered with questions by his father, mother, and Lucky. After that, Lucky had worked with him to control and guide his vision but revealed very little about magic in general to his young student.

“The firmament is the substance of creation. It underlies all of reality and provides solidity to all that you see and feel.” Lucky smiled at the frowns of confusion all around him. “The firmament is unformed reality. As we move through time, the firmament is the stuff of the moment. There is no existence in the past or the future, only in the now. That is the firmament in action. The moment of reality that just passed is gone because the firmament manifests only in the present moment. The moment of reality it will create two breaths’ time from now is only a possibility.” He looked hard at Alexander for a spark of understanding.

Alexander’s brow drew down for just a moment before his eyes went wide. “If the moments yet to come are only possibilities and a wizard can control the firmament, then he can make it do his bidding. He can shape the way the firmament manifests reality according to his will.” Alexander’s voice trailed off in wonder.

Lucky smiled broadly the way he always did when one of the children answered correctly. “Exactly right,” he said with a firm nod. Then he waited for the inevitable questions that would follow.

He didn’t have long to wait. “But then, why is it so dangerous? Why do wizards get lost in it?”

It was the question Lucky had expected, the next logical question. “When your mind is in the firmament, the possibilities are infinite. The only boundaries are those you bring with you. A wizard without a clear vision of what he wants to happen can easily get lost in the boundless possibilities. Time does not exist within the firmament, so while a wizard is sorting through infinity for the outcome he desires, his body can wither and die. The second danger is a lack of discipline. Linking one’s mind with the firmament can be a rapturous experience. Without a firm connection to one’s real existence, a wizard can simply forget that he even exists and be swept away in the ecstasy of limitless creation.”

Lucky was about to go on but Anatoly touched his arm to silence him. “Alexander, I know you have many questions but now is not the time. We still have a good distance to travel and we’re hunted by more than just men. We’ll move faster tomorrow if we’re all well rested. Besides, you’ve learned enough tonight to think on for the time being.”

As if on cue, Alexander yawned. He felt weariness settle on him like a heavy blanket. He nodded, “It has been a long day.”

Chapter 12

There was a firm but measured knock at the door. Phane smiled suggestively at the serving maid standing off to the side of his table. He’d decided to take dinner in the study of the rather modest keep that was his new home.

“My dear, please take my plate and bring me a bottle of wine. Tell the cook I’d like some of that dark red, very dry wine he served at dinner two nights ago.”

Dora was seventeen years old, stood five feet eight inches tall with a slender build and pretty, long auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a simple serving girl’s dress that was off grey in color and low cut. She was uncomfortable serving her new Prince but her family needed their place in the keep and her service was part of the price of their room and board.

She answered Phane in a little voice, “Yes, My Prince, right away.”

Phane sat back in his chair to give her the space to remove his half-finished dinner while he leered at her shamelessly. She blushed and cleared his table quickly.

Dora opened the door, balancing her tray in one hand, and bowed her head to the General Commander who stood, hands clasped behind his back, waiting patiently just outside the door. When Jataan P’Tal saw the young maid, he stood aside to permit her to leave on her errand.

“Good evening, My Prince.” Jataan said nothing else while he waited for Phane to acknowledge him.

“Ah yes, Commander P’Tal, come in.”

Jataan P’Tal stepped up to the table but said nothing.

Phane regarded him for a long moment. “I have it on good authority that the men of the Reishi Protectorate on the Isle of Ruatha have failed to apprehend the fugitive in Southport. It would seem that he is proving to be more trouble than either of us thought.”

The serving maid came to an abrupt stop at the threshold of the door with a bottle of dark red wine and a large silver goblet. She waited for the Prince to call her in.

He smiled past Jataan P’Tal and said, “Come in, my dear.” He kept smiling as he watched her bring the wine to his table. He took a hard look at the bottle and nodded. “Very good, my dear, please close the door on your way out.” He watched her start to leave.

Just when she reached the door he said, “Oh, one more thing.”

She stopped and turned. “Yes, My Prince?”