The Castrofax (36 page)

“He’s a Gaelsin.”

Nolen raised a brow. “A what now?”

Ryker pinched his lips and brows. “From
Tintagaelsing, across the Greynadaltyne Mountains.”

Nolen felt flustered. “There are no people on
the other side of the mountains.”

“Boy, y’ best bet there are. There are
tunnels run under the Grays par a hundred miles what used to
connect the kingdoms before the Mage Wars.”

“I never knew,” Nolen whispered.

Ryker shook his head and clicked his cheek.
“I’m right amazed at how much knowledge has been lost over this
last Age.”

He pointed to the last portrait of a small
woman. She was Shalabane with dark olive skin, black hair and a
wide mouth. Four ribbons adorned her forehead, laced back into her
hair in bands of red, blue, green, and gray. She had a sour look
and wrinkles around her eyes and lips, the eldest of them Nolen
judged, dressed in a loose, brocaded shirt with patterns of flames
through it.

“Evony Mitexi was as fast as she was mad. She
controlled all Elements but Spirit. She had a right touch of
madness t’ her, but she knew how t’ use the Elements, t’ create
pain in ways Spirit Mages could never attempt. Loyal, she was ac
did what I told her.”

“Why was she mad?”

“Elements as powerful as hers take the toll
on the mind if ne handled well, ac she did ne handle it well. Your
Mage would like follow the same fate, since y’ don’t know how t’
manage power as great as his in this Age.”

“Where did they come from?”

“Where do we all come from? Y’ do know the
stories of the first Mages, aye? Don’t be a-telling me, y’ haven’t
been told the histories.”

“I know them, but they are just myths.”

“All myths come from truth, boy.” He wet his
lips with wine. “In the time before times there were men, ac there
were the Elements. The wind, she raged without control, ac the
ocean broke twice daily by the moon; fire burned without
boundaries, the green things spread over all, ac the people
perished young while their spirits filled the ground.”

Nolen nodded. “And so the people created the
Elements to control them.”

Ryker smacked Nolen across the back of his
head. “Ack! Nay, that is ne the tale. It was the Elements what
created themselves. Listen more ac speak less.” He motioned to a
hallway where a set of tapestries hung, and as they walked he began
the story again. “The Elements knew they were too powerful to rule
without help, so they banded together to create six in the image of
man ac filled one after t’other with one Element.”

He stopped before a tapestry with six figures
stitched in various positions. “Wind whipped herself together t’
form a woman with pale skin, silvery hair, ac pale eyes who moved
more gracefully than any creature ever born.” He pointed to a pale
figure standing on a mountain, her hands raised and her dress
billowing. “Earth drew a woman tan ac dark hair with black eyes
like coals. Water used the moon t’ pull a lady from the tides of a
rocky coast. A red-haired pale beauty with the ocean in her eyes,
lithe ac winsome whose tongue spoke in songs.” He gestured to the
two people in the tapestry, the lady cracking the soil open, and
the woman standing on the waves.

“Fire drew from deepest depths of the earth
where the flames burn hottest, ac formed a man with black hair ac
eyes like emeralds, dusky skin ac powerful limbs. Spirit pulled
together a piece of each living being, ac wrapped them together t’
form a stout man with brown hair ac eyes like night.” The man
picked out in white in the tapestry hung in the air, his arms
spread wide.

“They said he fell from the stars.”

“He was formed in the sky. T’ some he rightly
well had fallen from the stars. Lastly, Void raised a man from the
shadows, created with the energies of the dead spirits, with white
hair ac eyes ac black skin, a fearsome creature t’ behold.” The
dark man in the tapestry stood out with his striking eyes, standing
proudly in a corner of the piece.

Ryker moved them to another tapestry where it
seemed something terrible had happened. “We named them by their
Elements. They bred together, birthing litters by the dozens in
short time ac never aging. Years passed ac the Mages, children of
the Elements, spread across all the lands. Many bore multiple
Elements, ac there was a time when some controlled all six. But a
day came when Spirit ac Void disputed against each other. Opposites
rarely agree.”

The Elements were scattered in the tapestry,
running or flying away. Void with the black skin and white hair
fought with Spirit in the pale clothes. It seemed Spirit had struck
the final blow.

“Spirit consumed his opposite ac absorbed the
power of Void. On that day, all who wielded Void ac lacked Spirit
dropped dead. Today, all Spirit wielders can use Void once they
opened it, par one could ne be without the other. Though Spirit
thought himself clever killing his opposite, he was cursed t’ spend
eternity with what he hated. Y’ say in this Age what there is ne
greater Element from one t’ the other, but Spirit is the most
powerful because y’ have the capabilities of Void.”

Nolen studied the tapestries. “I have never
seen a dark-skinned person.”

“That was because they all fell dead that
day.” He pointed to a strange map in one corner and a broken map in
the opposite. “Earth broke the land ac drove it apart t’ protect
her people. Water raised the seas to form the Dahrry Sea and the
Dorna Cel. On that day Arconian was created when a tear in the sea
floor ripped up fires from the earth. Air whipped the winds around
the Greynadaltynes t’ make them impassable t’ protect her kind. T’
this day y’ can still see the markings in the Mages t’ know which
Element they sprung from. Y’ are Spirit born, as are most, though
y’ have a touch of Fire in y’.”

“How would you know all this? Were…were you
there?”

“Boy, par all y’ know, I verily may have
been.”

Casimir sat behind the desk that entertained
hundreds of Head Mages before him. The rich dark wood carved
flowing vines to match the grain. Bits of lapis and mother of pearl
inlaid in the carvings, and atop it was a well-polished white
marble slab with several holes cut through for ink wells, oil
wells, and writing utensil holders. Casimir would miss the old desk
and the matching chair set with crimson velvet.

What was left of the Council stood before
him. Lady Aisling and Queen Challis could not make the journey, and
Kieran and Selene were dead, leaving Galloway, Adelaide, Markus,
Dagan, Penny, Lewis and Secondhand Lael to make the decisions. Some
were still shaken from Ryker Slade’s visit, but it strengthened the
resolve of others. Casimir rotated a gold band studded with uncut
emeralds between his hands subconsciously as the remaining few took
their seats.

“I have dallied too long,” he said at last
and set the crown in his lap. “And I fear we may be too late. The
only hope we have to fight Ryker Slade has always been Mage
Gabriel.”

The room stirred and Lewis quickly stood. He
was the oldest Councilman and managed the castle’s infirmary.
Brilliant as they came, brilliance often had a price, and his was
social awkwardness. For a man who seemed usually distant, he was
focused for the moment. “My lord, you cannot propose we help him
find the Silex. It would undo all Mage Gabriel could hope to
complete before he began.”

Casimir nodded. “True, but that is not what I
propose.” Lewis remained standing, his old eyes attentive. “We are
going to kill Gabriel.”

The room fell silent but for Penny’s sharp
gasp.

“It is widely known no Mage can be returned
from the dead, but that is what the histories have told us,”
Casimir began and stood, his knees creaking. “What your history
books do not say is death can be undone. We do not know why the
Silex was created, but I can tell you its greatest resource is
life restoration
. Yes, it imbues Class Ten power on the
bearer, but death can only be undone with all Elements—and most
especially Spirit’s hidden sister Void.” He paused to give them a
moment to absorb his words. “That was one of the reasons Void was
banned, and we speak not of it. We need to find the Silex, kill
Gabriel, and return him to life without his binds if we want a hope
against Ryker.”

Galloway rocked back on his heels. “Do you
have books on the Silex’s location as well?”

“No,” Casimir replied with a nod. “I do not
need books. The Silex’s location came to me five years ago in the
hands of Princess Kindle Novacula.” He slowly paced around to the
front of his desk and leaned back against it. “Kindle is a weak
Mage, only a Class Two, so she knew she would have to work hard to
achieve respect as a Mage. She was apprenticed in the library
working in the restricted section when she came across a bookmark
in a tome on ancient passageways in castles. It was the bookmark
itself that set the bearing and marked location.”

“You know where the Silex is.” Penny said
breathlessly, a tinge of fear in her round eyes.

“I know where the Silex is.” The energy in
the room tensed as everyone yearned for the question answered, but
nobody dared ask. No matter, he would not tell them; not with Ryker
bent to kill for the information. He knew his life was jeopardized
by revealing this knowledge, but they had to know. “We must travel
to Anatoly City as soon as possible and bring Gabriel with us.”

“Do you
know
how to use the Silex to
return the dead?” Markus asked, leaning against the cold
hearth.

“A Spirit and Void pattern will make it
work.”

“Have you opened Void?”

Casimir felt his insides tighten at the idea
of it. Void was not an easily attainable Element. The way to unlock
Void had been cut and burned from history books. No one could
attempt it. “No, but you must ensure I am the one who kills Gabriel
in the end to make everything work.” He looked at Lael. “Do we have
enough Class Sixes to sidestep yet?”

“No, we are missing a Fire Mage.”

“We cannot waste any more days. We must be on
the road day after next with as many strong Mages we can afford to
leave the protection of the walls. Can I count on you to rally the
Mages?”

They nodded slowly. He knew they did not want
to leave the safety of Jaden, and he truthfully did not want to
either, but he had the protection of generations to think about. No
man expected to die when they awoke on their final day, and Casimir
had lived a full, rewarding life with no desire to leave any time
soon. He twirled the emerald-studded crown in his hands. His fear
of death kept him from acting for so long, but death was much
closer than he admitted. He knew what he must do from the moment
Lael reported Gabriel’s fate, but Casimir feared the outcome and
the Arch Mage with a vendetta. At this rate, it was likely Gabriel
was already broken. With a broken Class Ten, he did not know if he
could rely on Gabriel, but he had no one else to believe in.

“You are free to leave. Lael, abide with me a
moment.”

The Council filed out, some of their energy
sapped. The task they had was daunting, for so many Mages had come
to Jaden to escape the lands, not traverse back out to them. Lael
stepped to the center of the room patiently. The man had grown
leaner over the past weeks. He was already slender and hard, well
fit despite the hours spent sitting behind a desk.

“We need to discuss what will happen if I
fail,” Casimir said lowly. He could see the doubt skirt across
Lael’s face. He crossed the room to a set of shelves and pulled out
a small chest. “You will find my will here, my selection for the
next Head Mage, and letters for him.” Lael gave a sad nod. “I am
planning something, Lael, and you need to know of it.”

Lael nodded. “Where would you like to be
buried? With the Head Mages or your family?”

“Put me beside my sweet Evelyn.” After all
these years, he never forgot her fair face, ebony hair, and the way
her eyes would fix on his like firebrands and burn straight into
his core. Her voice had faded from his memory long ago, but he
remembered her smile. He took the Head Mage Seat because of
her—because she was no longer there, and he had to distract himself
somehow. Their child lasted but a few hours before he died as well.
For all his strength and skill as a Class Six healer, Casimir did
not know how to mend kidney diseases. After her skin and eyes
yellowed, she maintained just enough energy to birth the child, all
the while whispering reassurances to him. It was forty years ago,
but the wound was still as raw as the day it was cut. “Yes, put me
beside her.”

Robyn and her party pushed hard for two days,
stopping early the second evening. They set up a ragged camp to
warm by the fires, passing wine and meat between them.

Robyn had grown to know the men a little,
learning their histories and reasons for joining. Word had not
spread that she was the Princess, but they knew she was in charge
and would supplement their trials with coin. She earned their
respect by shooting the doe that fed them tonight.

General Calsifer set his bedroll beside hers
as her cousins and the contortionist girl made their beds nearby. A
spit with a leg of venison already crackled over the fire. It
dripped oil into the flames, filling the air with mouthwatering
scents. Robyn slipped off her soft lace-up boots and sat back on
her mat, sore from riding for so long. The hobbled horses milled
around behind her, munching rhythmically as night set.

Calsifer cut her a haunch of meat, and she
tore apart loaves brought from the manor. “We are making good
time.” She did not think so, but she appreciated his optimistic
thinking.

The same question had been gnawing at her for
days, and she finally worked up the courage to ask, “Do you think
Gabriel will be broken by the time we arrive?” If she arrived to
find him broken it would change her plans. She wondered what she
would do if she found the man she loved an empty shell, his insides
scrambled and drained.