The Archmage Unbound (35 page)

I clenched my granite jaw, “I just
discovered my wife is dead and my best friend along with her, I don’t really
give a damn if I fail.” With those words I closed my eyes and tried to do as
she had said, imagining myself as I had been. At first nothing happened, until
I listened to my body. Once I had its voice in my mind I began to change it. It
was a shocking realization, I was a rocky giant because my body’s song said I
was, and by simply changing its reality, I became the flesh and blood human I
remembered.

When I opened my eyes again I was human,
though my tooth was no longer chipped. I smiled at that thought. I also now
knew how fine the line between reality and illusion was. My body was in some
fundamental way a product of my ‘vision’. If I changed the way I thought of
it, it would change in response.

It occurred to me that I should test my
theory. I closed my eyes again, but Moira’s voice broke my concentration,
“Don’t,” she said.

“Don’t what?” I asked.

“Don’t try that… you haven’t learned
enough yet. Shape shifting is in some ways the simplest of the arts but it is
also fraught with the most dangers. The only thing you should attempt until
you’ve had at least some basic advice is what you just did, returning to your
proper form,” she answered.

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“I have been acting as your miellte,
since you badly need one. I am ‘listening’ to you, as best I can,” she
responded.

“You can see my thoughts?” I asked
curiously, and perhaps secretly a bit alarmed.

She smiled, “Not exactly. I can
anticipate your actions and feel some of your emotions, but I don’t know
exactly what you are thinking.”

For some reason that was the point when
my normal human emotions kicked in again, while I had been in the form of an
earthen giant I had felt only anger, the emotion I had been feeling when I
changed. Now that I was flesh and blood again my normal ‘range’ seemed to be
restored and my grief came back to me, washing over me like a river of
sadness. “So you can feel my emotions now then?” I said in a voice devoid of
the emotion I was feeling.

Though she was made of earth Moira’s
features were as finely done as any mortal’s, her eyes revealed a deep sympathy
within them. “Yes, I can feel your sorrow. I have known times such as these
myself.”

“But you do not hear the question in my
heart?”

“No,” she answered.

“Today I have seen the power I possess.
A power so great it could destroy everything, yet I was unable to protect those
most dear to me. I want to know why. Why?” As I asked the question I felt my
anger returning, but I didn’t allow it to overwhelm me this time.

Moira’s expression changed as I spoke,
becoming more stern. “Listen to me son of Illeniel, and I will tell you what I
learned at great cost, once, long ago, ages before you were born. The ability
to destroy is the least form of power, though it is the first form that any
power will take. Even an infant is able to destroy things, weak though it may
be. Using your talent to build, to create, or to restore, those are the
greater forms of power; and those forms require time and cultivation to
mature.”

I listened carefully, despite my anger
and sorrow, even then my mind was working, looking ahead. “What of the power
to protect?” I asked.

She closed her eyes. “That is an
illusion. There is no power to protect, only to destroy and create anew.
Protection is a result of the mind and clever use of power to manipulate the
actions of those that would harm you, but it is not a result of power itself.”

“That makes no sense. If you try to
destroy something, or someone, and I prevent you I have exercised my power to
protect.”

“How would you prevent me?” she
replied. “You would either destroy me, or use the threat of destruction to
alter my actions. The protection of whomever or whatever is a secondary
result, not a primary result of power. Power only creates or destroys.”

I didn’t want to agree with her, but I
couldn’t see the flaw in her reasoning. Tired, I decided to put the discussion
aside for another day. “I don’t like your answer, but I’m too worn to debate
it.”

She continued, “All that belies another
point you must be aware of…”

“What’s that?”

“As I told you before, an archmage does
not possess power, he ‘becomes’ it. The power you use is not your own, you
merely borrow it, and if you use too much it will own you. Remember that.”

I gritted my teeth but said nothing. I
knew very well what she meant but I was convinced there was more to it than
that. At every turn I was being told that all power had a price, that the
power I used would cost me my very life if I tried to use the amount I needed
to stop a being such as Mal’goroth, or the shining gods. Yet I could see that
there were many unknowns in this game, even Moira didn’t understand the full
limitations, or possibilities of an archmage’s ability. If she did she would
already understand what had just happened to me, and she had already admitted
to some uncertainty there.
And I am not just an archmage,
I thought to
myself. I possessed power in my own right, as a wizard, though it might pale
before some of the foes arrayed against me.

Beyond that I knew that the power of the
mind might provide answers that no amount of brute force could. Moira
underestimated the importance of intelligence that I was sure of, because all
of her training taught her that the greater uses of an archmage’s power would
obliterate his (or her) mind or ability to think. The natural progression of
that train of thought was that all power, beyond a certain point, would render
meaningless an individual’s power of thought or personal will.

I refused to accept that notion. I knew
from my time in the smithy that sometimes small applications of force could
have great effects.
Skillful use of power magnifies what is possible.
I
turned my back on Moira and began walking back toward Lancaster. “You may go
for now Moira,” I said curtly. For once my patience and courtesy were gone,
and I didn’t really care.

***

Somewhere deep, in one of the dark
places of the world something woke. It stirred restlessly, stretching a body
that had been still for almost a millennium. The world itself had shaken, as
if it would throw off the shackles of dormancy and drown the world in fire.
Things were still now, but it could feel a lingering expectancy, as if the
world had merely gone quiet, hushed in waiting for some larger event.

Slowly it shook the dust from its
ancient form and began making its way toward daylight and fresh air. It was
hungry, for it hadn’t eaten in nigh on a thousand years.

I returned to the Duke’s castle with
William. I wasn’t sure what he had seen or felt, and for that matter I wasn’t
sure what I had seen or felt either. My mind had been different in that other
form and my memories were strange to me. William didn’t say anything when I
found him and I didn’t volunteer any information. I did notice that he kept
his distance and he gripped his bow with a certain anxiety I hadn’t seen in him
before.

Walking through the main gate I noticed
the guards looked shaken. I had an uneasy feeling that I might be the cause,
but I said nothing, merely kept walking. When I reached the main door of the
keep James met me. “Did you feel the earth shake?” he asked.

I could only assume he meant my
theatrics an hour past. “Yes.”

“We’ve never had earthquakes here
before, any idea what might have caused it?” His face was drawn in worry and
concern.

“Not really,” I lied. I had a feeling
he would learn the truth soon enough, if he didn’t suspect already, but I
didn’t much care. I only had one goal now and it was hard to see past it.

Something in my demeanor must have
tipped him off. “What is that look? You don’t seem very concerned about what
happened.”

I shrugged, “I’m not particularly.” I
stepped around him and started walking again.

“Where are you going?”

“To talk to that wizard you captured,” I
said calmly.

Despite James’ age, experience, and
smooth face, I felt a flicker of anxiety when he spoke again. It was very
plain to see in the aura my mage-sight showed around him. “He isn’t awake
yet.”

I stopped but didn’t turn to look at him.
“Don’t lie to me James. I understand what you are trying to do, but please
don’t try to lie to me.” After a brief pause I resumed walking, not waiting
for a response.

He didn’t move to follow me but before I
left the hall he shouted after me, “What are you planning to do?”

I didn’t reply, at least no loudly
enough for him to hear. I muttered my response quietly to myself instead, “I’m
just going to ask some questions.”
And find out who is behind the murder of
my wife and unborn child,
I added mentally. A cold stillness had swallowed
my heart, leaving only an icy anger mixed with determination. “Then I’ll start
burning parts off of him… but not too quickly. I wouldn’t want to rush things
after all.” I smiled.

As I passed through the corridors
heading for the stairs that would lead me down to the dungeon my mother and
Genevieve found me. They were the last people I wanted to see so I ignored
them and with a word I blocked the hall with a shield of invisible force. My
sanity was mostly gone but I still didn’t want them to see what would happen
below.
Better they should stay up here,
I thought to myself.

I was almost to the stairs now and as I
walked a quiet part of myself watched in detachment. If Marc or Rose were here
they might have been able to calm me down, but they were much too far away to
help.
Penny would have been even better
, and that thought made my
stomach tighten. Inside all I could feel was an icy knot of pain, but my mind
held nothing but images of flames.

I turned a corner and found Ariadne
standing before the door leading to the dungeon stairs. “Mordecai I need to
talk to you.”

“Please move,” I said flatly.

“I have to talk to you,” she said with a
look of determination, gone was the girl frightened of her father I had seen
earlier. Idly I wondered when she had become a woman; it seemed just a day ago
she had been Marc’s annoying little sister. The part of me that was doing the
wondering wasn’t in charge though; I didn’t have any room for indulging my
nostalgia… not anymore.

I already knew she was wearing one of
the necklaces I had made so I didn’t bother trying to put her to sleep. I
didn’t want to hurt her but my patience was extremely short on supply.
“Borok
Ingak,”
I said, blowing the door behind her apart with a precision I had
lacked a year ago. The sudden loss of support behind her caused her to stumble
backward and she might have fallen down the stairs but I had already stepped
forward to catch her by the hand. “Careful, Marc would never forgive me if I accidentally
hurt you,” I said softly as I pulled her away from the doorframe.

The frightened look in her eyes told me
everything I needed to know. Something in my tone had already given away my
secret. I had gone feral; worse, I was consumed by the desire to commit
murder. “Mort you have to listen to me!” she cried as I pushed her back and
used a shield to seal the doorway between us.

I turned my back on her and began
descending the stairs. The quiet part of me observed that the darkened
stairwell might well be a metaphor for my own spiritual descent into darkness.
“You don’t want to see this Ariadne,” I said as I went. I didn’t particularly
worry about whether she heard me or not.

“Penny left you a note! Did you see
it?!” she yelled at my back. Her words were muffled slightly by the screen of
force blocking her way, but I heard them nonetheless. My feet stopped of their
own accord.

“What?” I turned back in annoyance.
The poor girl, beautiful as she was, was in tears.

“She left a note for you. Joe McDaniel
was supposed to give it to you.”

My anger made room for a bit of ordinary
irritation. “I can read it later, nothing is going to change my mind at this
point.”

I started to turn away again but she
screamed at me, “She had a vision! She wanted you to read it before you did
anything else… she knew Mordecai! She knew!”

My cold rage was becoming a rather more
normal hot anger, “Just tell me what it said damnitt!” I removed the shield
from the doorway and walked back up to her. I wanted nothing more than to
finish our conversation so I could go down and take care of my unfinished
business. My hands were itching with impatience.

“I don’t know!” she said desperately.
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me, but she wanted you to read it. She knew
what was about to happen and she said only you should see the note.

For the first time since I had resolved
to slowly torture the man held below to death, I truly paused to think.
If
she knew then she must have had a plan
, I thought.
That might mean she
isn’t dead, but for some reason didn’t want anyone to realize that fact.
That meant her note might have been left to prevent me from making a mistake,
based on that assumption. There really wasn’t any way to second guess her
without reading it first.