CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #2
That made Thom hesitate for a drawn-out moment.
Then he shook his head vehemently, a dry scoff working out of him.
“Have you met the Calders?” he said. “They may be odd, but they aren’t cold-blooded murderers.
And I think it’s safe to say they certainly wouldn’t support an organization made up of homicidal maniacs. ”
Deckard ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily.
This was Evylin’s exact argument. Why was he the only one willing to consider the Calders’ additional duplicity?
He wondered if Rafferty would be any more rational.
After all, Evylin and Thom had built friendships with Ilain, and Ethenn was now betrothed to her.
They would be incapable of seeing the woman’s fraudulence until it was too late.
If Ilain was deceitful.
A tinge of doubt lingered in Deckard’s mind as to that fact. No matter how much he questioned the Alliance and their people, he couldn’t deny that Ilain and her family showed a level of loyalty, bravery, and piousness that he didn’t think could be feigned for quite this long.
Maybe Evylin and Thom were right. Maybe Deckard was being overly cautious.
Repentant, Deckard faced Thom again. “I do fear that they’ll force Evylin and me into a life we don’t want,” he admitted. “After all their lies in the past, I struggle to trust that they’re as good as they claim.”
Thom nodded in understanding. “I don’t know that any government can be called ‘good,’ Jonn,” he said thoughtfully. “There’s better and worse, but goodness . . . That belongs to people.”
“And people are what form a government,” Deckard said.
“Yes,” Thom agreed, then grinned. “So wouldn’t you want to make sure the best people are at the head of it?”
“Of course.”
“Right.” Thom’s grin turned sly. “Personally, I can’t think of anyone better than you.”
Immediately, Deckard scowled. “I’m not a ruler. I’m a soldier, and that’s all I want to be.”
Thom raised a pacifying hand. “Then don’t become Highlord Chancellor,” he said. “But perhaps you could help select the men and women who are going to rule. If the Alliance values you enough to let you lead, then surely, they’d value your opinion on who they set in your place.”
Deckard considered that. The idea wasn’t altogether abhorrent to him.
Rulership was out of the question. But advising? That he could do.
With a slow nod, Deckard surveyed his brother with interest. “When did you get so wise?” he asked companionably.
Thom scoffed. “I’ve been spending too much time with Ilain. That woman is downright insightful and frighteningly blunt. You’ve got her to thank for any improvements.”
Deckard chuckled. “Remind me to do just that when we get back to camp.”
“Nah, don’t.” Thom smirked. “It’ll just go to her head.”
They managed to make it to the large town of Gaatshead, deep in the foothills.
Near the mountain range and one of the few towns in the area, the fiefdom was granted to a well-trusted Ephrian nobleman whose ancestor was one of the Shepherd King’s closest friends.
Deckard couldn’t quite remember the name of the viscount, but he recognized the insignia of the green banners with the charging knight, his steed rearing, and his sword raised.
Watching those banners flap above the walls a mile away, Deckard gave his instructions. “We’ll go into the town for the night,” he said, then reached into his coat’s interior pocket. “Thom, this is our letter of assignment. Take Rafferty and Vayden and get us rooms in the best inn you can find.”
“Aye, sir.” Thom took the folded letter, then winked at Evylin. “A bed’ll do nicely.”
“It certainly will,” she agreed.
“I presume,” Ilain interjected, “that the rest of us are meant to train?”
Deckard nodded. “Yes. Brea will continue her training with Evylin and Ethenn. And I need your help,” he met the gazes of the other Mages in turn, “to understand these tomes Lord Obel gave me.”
Though Auden and Isla showed approval, Ilain brushed a hand through the air. “I’ll go with the boys,” she said. “You don’t need three tutors. And someone magical should stick close to the Relic that Rafferty’s got up his sleeve.”
“It’s around my neck, actually,” Rafferty corrected, then leaned toward Brea to add, “And it chafes like hell.”
While Brea grinned, Deckard accepted Ilain’s suggestion.
The three groups split; four of their party headed for the town, while the other six rode into the trees.
Deckard, Auden, and Isla didn’t bother going as far into the rocky and overgrown brush.
The sound of swords would draw more attention than their light conversation and attempts at magic.
So while the Warriors headed deep into the forest, Deckard remained with the Mages.
They tied their horses to the low branch of a thistleberry tree, its brilliant blue flowers blooming in the springtime. The berries were still too small to eat; their bristly protective covering kept Deckard from bothering to pick any of them, but Isla studied their flowers curiously.
“These trees are lovely,” she commented, looking around at the rest of the forest. Blossoming white pears and blush-colored myrtles brightened the greenery around them. “We don’t have as many flowering varieties in Wauld.”
“I noticed,” Deckard replied. “This part of Ephria is known for its flora. We get most of our teas, spices, and perfumes from the side of the mountain.”
“So the rest of your country isn’t as beautiful?” she teased.
Realizing Isla had never been to Ephria, Deckard found himself smiling. “Actually,” he said proudly, “the Shires are known to be the true beauty of our land. They’re green and glorious.”
Isla chuckled lightly. “Vayden would love to see it. Green is his favorite color.”
“We’re going there,” he reminded her. “That’s where the Terrae Relic is.”
“Then he will love it.” She patted Auden’s arm and drew the men toward the center of the small clearing. “How shall we begin, Highlord Magister Calder?”
Auden clasped his hands before him, giving her a fond smile. “Well, Highlady Aterian Freye, I believe our pupil has aims of his own with this training,” he returned.
Deckard watched their sibling-like exchange with interest. It was a marvel that no matter the difficulty or distance their work with the Alliance demanded of the Calder family, they still held such a strong regard for one another.
Even as in-laws, Auden and Ilain acted no differently toward Isla than they did toward one another or Vayden.
She was one of them, wholly adopted into the family, even if she hadn’t taken their name.
Realizing that they were waiting for his reply, Deckard cleared his thoughts.
He met Auden’s verdant gaze and explained, “Much of our previous training focused on Day or Night magic. As we now know that I’m a Space Mage, it seems that we ought to change our course.
I’ve begun reading the books Obel gave me, but we’re pressed for time.
In the short evenings and breaks that we have, I can only make it so far in my studies.
So I think the best way to ensure our success is for you and Isla to train me to use Space magic more effectively. ”
Auden and Isla exchanged a look. Then Auden gave him a penitent frown.
“We’re not exactly experienced with Space magic, Jonn,” he said.
“Isla is an Elemental Mage. Accessing Space is nearly impossible for her. I myself have only accessed it a handful of times in my life. And my hold on it was tenuous at best.”
At Deckard’s evident disappointment, Isla spoke. “However, we can help you hone your ability to feel magic in general, which will make connecting to Space on your own easier for you.”
“By all means,” Deckard invited.
Auden gave Isla a nod, and she stepped forward.
She wore a deep navy blue dress that caused her brown eyes and bronze skin to radiate warmth.
Her expression was gentle, and her posture was relaxed as though to set him at ease.
“The first lesson a Mage must learn is connection,” she explained.
“Our connection to the resources is the means of our power. If we cannot connect, we cannot act. When we’re young Mages, often months are spent attuning ourselves to our primary resource, building such a strong relationship that we can feel it surrounding us with our every breath.
“I am a Wind Mage,” she continued. “Therefore, I can feel the very air around me, always. It’s like a constant companion. Even the air in your lungs is tangible to me. I can sense it—everywhere.”
She gestured to her brother-in-law. “Auden can see with the light of Day in the darkest of nights. He can sense the light and the life force of those around him always. If you are in danger, if your heart is weak, he can feel it.”
Deckard raised his chin in understanding. “When I come to my full power as a Space Mage, I’ll feel the Heavens’ presence in the same way?” He didn’t bother waiting for confirmation but pressed, “What will that be like?”
“We can’t tell you,” Auden said. “There have been too few Space Mages, and even Highlord Grenwoode, who aligns with the Alliance, hasn’t been able to answer for that.
At two hundred and eight, he’s aged a great deal and can’t risk the other Mages discovering his allegiances.
So he remains aloof while supplying what information he can. ”
Deckard recognized the name. “He’s the author of one of the books Obel gave me.”
Auden nodded. “I believe he translated an old manuscript from the Allminian Gaelic. We don’t have many texts on Space magic because of its rarity.”
Still unaccustomed to the oddity of being considered such a “rare” species, Deckard blew out an overwhelmed breath. “So what you’re saying is, I’ll have to learn to wield my magic for myself?”
They both gave him apologetic smiles.
“Excellent.” Deckard forced himself not to be bitter. “Well, I’ll thank you for whatever training you can give.”
“I’ve already begun to teach you the meditations of a Mage,” Auden said. “That’s really the start.”