Chapter Nineteen
Penn had been to Swallow’s Nest twice, both times seeking Valerian’s assistance.
The town was small but lively, busy enough to keep a mage well supplied with customers.
His shop had no name, only a small ‘closed’ sign to indicate it was a business at all.
It’d been over a month since its owner inhabited it.
The cloudy windows obscured the inside, not that there was anything to see.
Valerian had packed up all his scrolls, ingredients, and enchanted items when he’d left with Penn to fight Alistair.
And every bit of it had burned to ash in a fire they still had no explanation for.
Penn’s brow furrowed as he guided the carriage past the shop.
While he searched for somewhere to leave the carriage, his mind wandered to the night of the fire.
At the time, Valerian had listed a few possibilities, including a curse from another mage targeting them, or one of their linked communication books catching fire.
Without the books or Valerian’s supplies, they couldn’t contact Archer and Silas to see if they were also affected.
The carriage barely fit through a narrow alley and around the back of the shop. Penn let it roll gently to a stop, then hopped down to take care of the horses. The simple, monotonous task allowed his mind to focus on the fire.
The two most likely culprits were with Penn now. Understanding the source wouldn’t change Penn’s current situation—those magical items were already destroyed—but it might give him some news of his distant friends.
Approaching the subject required subtlety. If he simply blurted out ‘Set any fires recently?’ he’d never get any answers.
Niall exited the carriage with the grace of a drunken goose—stumbling around and honking in annoyance. He grabbed the side of the building to steady himself, then stared at the shop, lip curled. “Is this your poor attempt at a trap?”
Penn arched an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”
“You were supposed to guide us to the mage’s residence, not a secluded back alley—”
“The shop is behind you.”
Niall narrowed his eyes, then tried to look over his shoulder while keeping Penn in view. “We are not seeking some charlatan’s shack. Valerian Sommers was not only a respected mage, he was an expensive one.”
Penn flinched at Niall’s repeated use of the past tense.
In the short time they’d known each other, Valerian hadn’t shown any inclination toward excess.
He wore simple clothing and only the one ring as an adornment, and that had been enchanted.
He seemed as comfortable spending the night in an inn with a hot bath and good food as he was in a tent with cold rations.
His biggest vice was his carnal hunger, and how much he was willing to spend on Penn for another taste.
“He values substance over appearances. Why spend money on a large, extravagant house when he could spend it on his research instead?”
“Well, he’d better have some damn good supplies inside,” Niall muttered.
How would he react when he discovered the shop was empty?
Valistair stood by the back door, his expression blank and gaze distant.
Is Val fighting back? Penn stepped up beside the mage, scanning his face for any physical signs of distress—blood, disorientation, fatigue.
“Someone came here before us,” the mage murmured, outstretched hand curled to mimic claws. “A desperate animal scratching at the door.”
“What? Who? Did they break in?” Niall demanded, head swiveling as he looked back and forth between his master and the door.
“No, the wards stand firm.” A faint rainbow light glittered in the mage’s mismatched eyes. He traced an invisible symbol in the air. “However, their tampering means it will take longer to break them.”
“Why do you need to break them at all?” Niall demanded. “You’re in the mercenary’s body. Don’t you already have the key to unlock them?”
Irritation flashed across Valistair’s face, disrupting his calm assessment. “It would be foolish for a transformation mage to make any physical keys for his sanctuary. He knows too well that magic could unravel his protections.”
Niall mulled over the chastising statement before saying, “Fine. Can you extract the key from the mercenary’s memories?”
“Not in any less time.”
Huffing, Niall crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the carriage. It rocked under him, and he jumped back up, glaring at it, then glaring at Penn when he snorted in response. He raised his chin and rolled up his sleeves. “I will assist you in this important work.”
“No need,” Valistair replied, waving him away.
Niall’s lips twisted in displeasure. “Very well. I will keep an eye on the boy while you are occupied.”
Penn ignored him and sat down, leaning against the wall as he watched the mage work. He couldn’t see Valerian’s wards, no matter how much he squinted, but he could follow the mage’s scarred hands as they traced symbols in the air. “What do the wards do?”
“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” Niall snapped. “You’ll distract him.”
One treats me like a dog, the other treats me like a child. “It’s all right if you don’t know the answer,” Penn replied with a shrug. “No harm in admitting that Valerian’s skills are beyond you.”
Niall’s face reddened and swelled with rage. “How dare you—you know nothing of my skills or my years of study—”
“Years rather than decades by the sounds of it. Val’s been in the game a bit longer than you.”
Niall leaned forward until spittle splashed against Penn’s face with each word. “Yet I defeated him. What do you have to say about that?”
“Did you defeat him? From what I’ve seen, your master did all the work. What little ‘help’ you offered ruined his hand—”
A soft touch on the top of Penn’s head cut him off. Valistair’s intact hand stroked Penn’s hair soothingly, yet there was also a silent admonishment—an owner hushing his yapping pup.
“The ward on the keyhole melts lockpicks and incorrect keys,” Valistair explained.
“Several on the door, the windows, and the walls prevent brute force entries. The windows won’t break even in the fiercest storms. Energy directed at the door will bounce back at the intruder three-fold.
One particular ward is interesting.” He twisted his left hand in the air, capturing and isolating a wisp of magic in his injured fist. “If activated, it would turn the whole building to granite, sealing any openings. A dangerous game if anyone is still inside. We are lucky the would-be burglar did not trigger it.”
The wards sounded more complicated and riskier than the barrier around Adelaide’s cottage.
Like a mental shield, her barrier was invisible to non-practitioners, but anyone uninvited would run into a solid wall.
She used a simple, three-layered system.
The first and third layers were made of crystal, while the middle was charged magic.
If someone broke through the outermost layer, the magic would burst out and kill them.
The inner layer protected her home from the backlash.
As Penn watched Valistair carefully unravel the wards, he wondered if the mage could do the same to Adelaide’s barrier. If he’d come looking for Silas himself that day instead of sending soldiers, would he have found a way inside?
“What’s the difference between a barrier and a ward?” Penn asked.
“Enough questions,” Niall hissed. “You are not his student; you are a hostage. Show some damn respect.”
“I need your assistance, Niall,” Valistair said.
Startled, Niall straightened. “Of course. What do you need?”
“Procure a room at the inn. I doubt I’ll finish this task before nightfall.”
Niall’s shoulders fell with his hopes. “Yes, master. Come along, boy.” He reached for Penn, ready to yank him to his feet and drag him along.
“Leave him.”
“But he is a distraction—”
“I may need him to test some of the wards to find their weak spots. It’s quite a painful process, but if you would prefer to volunteer?”
An internal debate played out across Niall’s features: on the one hand, he wanted to prove his worth. On the other, he didn’t want the pain associated with the task. Eventually, he graciously left it to Penn. “I will find us a room and somewhere to stable the horses.”
Once he had left and Penn couldn’t hear the rattling of the carriage anymore, he asked, “Do you really want me as a test subject or were you trying to get rid of him?”
Valistair paused long enough to look at him, one blond eyebrow arched. He didn’t answer that question but did answer Penn’s earlier one. “A barrier surrounds an object or structure. They take longer to construct but have fewer weak points. Wards can be unwritten. Barriers can only be destroyed.”
“If they can be unwritten, what’s the point of a ward?”
“Wards offer flexibility. It’s the difference between locking yourself in a stone fortress or wearing armor.”
Penn mulled that over, thinking of the differences between Adelaide’s and Valerian’s magic.
Both had their benefits. Adelaide’s magic had protected Silas, given him time to heal.
Valerian’s magic had helped them escape imprisonment.
However, pushing the limits of his magic was also what allowed Alistair into his mind.
“I’m surprised you’re answering my questions. ”
“I like that you’ve taken an interest in my work. It will help you understand me better.”
Penn rested his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, gazing up at the mage. “Why does it matter if I understand you or not?”
The mage’s fingers twisted and wove through the invisible magic, unraveling Valerian’s hard work. He was quiet for so long Penn thought he wouldn’t answer. “Valerian refused to speak about himself. You left him because of that.”
“I’m bound to you whether I understand you or not.”
A slight furrow appeared in the mage’s brow. This time, he didn’t answer.
Maybe he doesn’t know the answer. Or maybe he just refuses to admit that he wants me to stay even if he drops the leash.
Did Alistair want Penn to stay with him? Or was this more of Valerian leaking through the cracks?
Penn dreaded a future where he couldn’t tell them apart.