Chapter 37 Declan
Atikus braced himself against the rim of the Well as I pushed him up and out of its opening. The Mage sprawled across the floor and lay there as I jumped up beside him.
“Atikus, are you all right?”
“Fine.” His muffled voice bounced off the glassy surface of the cave’s floor. “Can we not do that again—ever?”
A chuckle replaced concern as I gripped his arm to help him stand.
“We may need to make one more trip to get you back home, unless you’d prefer to take the gate and walk all the way from the mountains to Saltstone.”
Atikus wobbled and sat on the crystalline bench across from the Well. “I might prefer a few decades of walking to riding that river of death again. How is your head not—?”
His last word trailed off as his eyes took in the cavern for the first time.
“What’s wrong? Are you all right?” I asked.
Atikus spoke in awed tones. “For hundreds of years, I kept the secret of the Well. Velius and I spent countless hours guessing what the hallowed mountain might look like, how magic in the air might feel, at what wonders that were hidden and would never be revealed to anyone beyond its Keeper.”
He sighed at the mention of his old friend.
“When you returned from your first journey here, describing the cave with a boyish gleam in your eyes, I never dreamed I would gaze at the majesty of the Well. You have helped me live a dream, son.”
Atikus stood on shaky legs and braced himself against my shoulder with one hand. His head turned slowly—so slowly—as he took in every crystal and crevice, every shade and shadow, with widened eyes.
I gripped the old man’s arm and watched as he surveyed the cavern.
“I was pretty stunned the first time, too. Look down.”
Atikus took a reflexive step back as azure mist curled upward beneath its glassy ceiling, winding toward Atikus’s feet. Once he realized it was harmless, he kneeled and placed a hand on the floor. The mist responded, hungrily racing to mirror his bony fingers and palm.
Atikus erupted in a childlike laugh that echoed off the crystalline walls.
“Oh, that’s not even the big show. Come over here,” I said, hooking the Mage under my elbow to help him stand.
I walked him to the opening that was the Well of Magic, where mist wafted upward, unabated by stone or crystal or glass.
It seemed to sense Atikus’s approach and greeted him, enveloping his entire body in glowing, writhing fog.
Tears of pure joy trailed down Atikus’s cheeks.
My heart soared.
I couldn’t wipe the goofy grin from my face, so I swatted rebellious curls out of my eyes—an old childhood tick.
“Declan, I am rarely speechless, but this—” Atikus choked on a happy sob that racked his chest.
I beamed at the small boy in Mages’ robes before me. “I know. I get chills every time I come in here, especially when the currents greet me.”
Atikus kneeled and extended a hand toward the opening, toward the gently rushing magic that flowed beneath.
I caught his hand and pulled it away. “Oh, no. That’s one thing you cannot do. Kelsa says the currents will overwhelm and consume you.”
“Then how . . . how did you travel in them? How did you bring me here?”
“I honestly don’t know. It’s an Heir of Magic thing, I guess.” I shrugged. “The first time, I felt like I’d been dragged behind a horse for hours, then run over by a dozen carts. Though, I never felt any pain. órla said I would always be safe in the currents.”
“órla?” Atikus’s head snapped up. “Didn’t she—”
“Yes, she sacrificed herself, but her Spirit returned to the Well as it always does.” A confused look crossed Atikus’s face. “Atikus, she isn’t what we thought. She is magic’s essence. She cannot die. She will be reborn in a new form.”
“Sweet Spirits . . .”
“For now, she speaks through the currents. You couldn’t hear us talking?”
“I was more focused on staying in one piece than listening to you babbling into the void. Yours was the only voice I heard.”
I leaned closer. “Your eyes didn’t change like mine did. That’s odd.”
“I may be the most knowledgeable Mage alive, but I feel like a new acolyte around you—and all this.”
“Second most knowledgeable,” a warm voice said from behind.
Atikus wheeled around.
His eyes widened and smile broadened as Kelsa strode toward us.
“Kelsa?” The astonished Mage struggled forward on unsteady legs. “It has been decades—no, centuries. You have not aged a day!”
“And you still remember how to flatter a woman, you silver-tongued Mage.” Kelsa reached us and wrapped her arms around her old friend, then peered over his shoulder and winked at me.
Then she noticed my eyes.
“Declan, your eyes—”
“I know, but it’s all right. órla warned there would be changes when I entered the currents. She doesn’t know if this is permanent or not, or if there will be other side effects later on. Nothing else changed—at least that I can tell—other than people’s reactions back home.”
She released Atikus and stepped past him toward me, concern creasing her brow. “What do you mean, people’s reactions? Last I heard you were being hailed as a hero everywhere you walked.”
I shrugged as my eyes fell. “They’re scared of me, like I’m going to attack them with my eyes or something. I don’t know. Even the kids wouldn’t come close. They run or hide behind their parents.” My gaze strayed to meet hers, then shied away. I muttered, “Guess I’m alone again—”
Kelsa closed the gap between us faster than an adder could strike. Her palms cupped my cheeks and forced me to look into her eyes. “Declan Rea, you are never alone. You hear me? Never.”
I stared and lost myself in my mother’s ideal reflected through her vision.
She saw something I couldn’t fathom, someone I didn’t recognize.
How could anyone believe in another person with such reckless abandon?
I wished some measure of her confidence in me would take root in my own heart and grow—but I knew it was likely too late for that, especially with magic literally seeping out of my eyes every time I blinked.
Self-conscious under her maternal gaze, I said, “For whatever reason, Atikus was unaffected by his trip along the currents.”
Kelsa gave me a look I couldn’t interpret but said nothing, turning back as Atikus coughed.
“Unaffected? I can barely walk after bouncing from the continent to this island!”
I snorted, relieved the spotlight shone elsewhere. “I meant magically. We can’t help that you’re old and frail.”
“Hey!” Atikus smacked me on the arm. “I am distinguished. And hungry, now that we are talking about our feelings.”
“Of course you are.” I rolled my eyes.
“You boys come with me. I can take care of your stomachs while we talk about fixing Atikus’s magic. As much as I would love to catch up, órla’s warning has me thinking there is little time to waste.”
Nothing worked to restore Atikus’s magic.
We tried Healing, then Healing combined with air, hoping I could somehow breathe life back into his Gift.
It had seemed a silly idea at the time, but Kelsa swore she remembered something akin to it working to Heal another Mage many years before.
We were growing desperate, and Kelsa’s wild-guess theory failed as all previous attempts had.
On our fifth morning together, Atikus, Kelsa, and I sat around the table on the landing overlooking the standing stone circles. Our bellies were nearly as full as our wine glasses.
As we transitioned from lunch to wine on the ridge, our conversation also shifted from Atikus’s perpetual questioning of all things magic toward possible treatments to restore Atikus’s connection.
Kelsa was disappointed the trip within the currents had done nothing to aid him and was surprised when Atikus described feeling none of the tingling sensation that assaulted me as I traveled.
His lack of sensation, along with his inability to sense órla’s presence or hear her voice, underscored how complete his separation from magic truly was.
“I was afraid to let go of him while we traveled,” I explained. “Maybe he needs to be exposed to the currents without me protecting him with my touch.”
Kelsa shook her head. “No, we should not try that. Putting him into the currents without you would likely kill him—or sear his consciousness so he would lose all sense of identity or self. You are the only person in my thousand years of life who has touched the currents and lived.
We will save that for a last resort.”
“What if I Called to his spirit, like a summoning, but inside?”
“Now that is just plain creepy, and I have lived long enough to see many things that would make your skin crawl,” Atikus said.
“You might be onto something, as creepy as it may sound.”
Kelsa chuckled at Atikus, then grew serious.
“But you would have to be very careful. Interaction with a living being’s spirit is dangerous, and not just to them. The will of a spirit is a fickle thing, and Atikus might not be able to control what it does.”
“What are you talking about? It is my spirit. Why would I not be able to control it?”
“Yes, it is your spirit, as long as it is within you, but if Declan connected with it, there would be a path it could take through his consciousness to escape the bonds of your mortal body. In essence,
Declan could be a conduit to allow your spirit to become sentient in itself and then be loosed on the world to do who knows what. Freed spirits are incredibly dangerous. That is why we must be cautious when constructing summoning circles.
Think of it as a conscience-free Atikus in spirit form roaming the land.”
“Sounds like another spirit I met recently, except without my sparkling personality,” Atikus said sourly.
Kelsa ignored his attempt at humor. “Exactly. Irina’s spirit maintains her personality and some of her will but now lusts for vengeance of its own. The woman I knew would never kill innocents.”
“The woman you knew was entombed for a very long time. I expect that dark prison changed her, even in spirit form,” Atikus said.
I cleared my throat. “We’re wandering. Back to helping Atikus. I don’t like the spirit interaction idea anymore. Let’s shelve that for now. What else?”