A Mage's Power Read online

  “What’s that about?” The air rippled around him as he passed through the archway, responding to his magic.

  The floating rock the Guild sat upon was accessible by a slatted bridge, enchanted to be stable even in high winds. Regardless, it was slightly disconcerting to walk across, suspended in the air over the cliffs where the waters of the Grey Tides crashed. The heavy wooden doors of the Mages Guild hadn’t been closed in nearly twenty years, since a crisis involving the accidental summoning of five honey badgers and one angry, rampaging moose—even now, they stood open and welcoming.

  The Guild itself was made of stone, with warm wood features and glowing torches of magic light. There were three buildings set around a courtyard that boasted beautiful landscaping and a fountain at its center. Rowan particularly loved the night lilies and moondrop flowers that glowed after sunset, along with the fireflies that were attracted to them, creating a magical atmosphere that had nothing to do with the mages’ powers.

  The building on the left was quarters for those who stayed within the Guild, mostly apprentices and journeymen who would have left home to study there. The larger one on the right was used for classrooms and practical applications.

  “Have you seen Masters Ieus and Frey?” Rowan asked the first apprentice he saw.

  She pointed toward the Hall of Enlightenment, across from the entrance. “The Masters Board has been in session for a while now. They canceled classes for the rest of the day.” If Rowan hadn’t been worried before, he certainly was now.

  He cut a direct path through the garden to the Hall—their indoor amphitheater—a circular arena with raised seating. Demonstrations were held there, and testing administered, but it was also a place to hold meetings or, on rare occasion, an internal tribunal.

  Once inside, Rowan was stopped at the inner doors by one of the guards. There were only a few on duty at any given time as there wasn’t much need for them. “Closed session, Rowan,” Tate said.

  “What the hell’s going on?” he demanded all the same. “What’s happened?”

  Glancing over his shoulder at the doors, Tate sighed. “I don’t know much. Just that there’s something shady going on. The board is discussing what to do about it. I’m assuming they’ll tell the rest of us once they’ve come to a decision.”

  “How long have they been in there?”

  “Over an hour now. Ieus was worked up. Jorah looked murderous. Frey and Quail were both clearly concerned. And Sacha looked about ready to throw up.”

  “Well, that’s disturbing,” Rowan said.

  Ieus was the oldest on the board, and thus often looked to by the others as a defacto leader. Jorah was a former battlemage, his experience affording the Guild a unique perspective. Frey had been Rowan’s sponsor as an apprentice, a level-headed woman who didn’t get rattled easily. To that end, Quail was very much the same, far more focused on mentoring than the politics. Sacha was a master from a guild to the east, a more recent transplant, who had proven to be a positive asset to them.

  For something to have them all worried, it must have been big.

  Rowan leaned against the wall next to Tate. There was nothing left to do but wait, so he asked, “Did you put in for your Alteration exam yet?”

  Tate seemed grateful for the change in subject. He had already passed with summoning, giving him a Masters in the School of Conjuration. “Been trying to come up with an appropriate show for the board. You?”

  “Leaning toward Spirit.” It was probably the next strongest of his schools, yet he was having doubts. “But, same issue as you. My counter-curses and hexes need more work. My healing abilities suck. And blood magic, well…”

  “Not much you can really do with that, huh?”

  The inner arena doors opened. Quail walked by, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and looking pale. He barely gave Rowan more than a nod, which was quite different from his usual energetic self. Sacha followed in his wake, not looking much better, a frown marring her otherwise pretty features. The youngest of the masters, she was still Rowan’s senior by two decades.

  Jorah stalked past next, looking downright murderous, indeed. He spun on his heels, barking, “Tate, with me.”

  Tate jumped. “See ya ‘round,” he said in apology, before jogging to catch up with his mentor.

  Ieus and Frey were, unsurprisingly, the last out. His gray hair and bushy beard gave Ieus a grandfatherly, if not slightly eccentric, look. Frey’s white-blonde hair and prim appearance gave her a similarly instant credibility as someone who would look after and mother everyone in sight. In both their cases, that held true.

  “Rowan!” Frey exclaimed. “What are you doing here, dear?”

  “I think the better question is what’s going on?”

  She pursed her lips, clearly debating on what to say. Then she sighed and motioned him to follow. “We have a problem.”

  “There’s a dark mage running around Osterian,” Ieus explained, as Rowan fell into step between them on their path around the courtyard. “We’ve been getting reports for the past couple months. Scattered, and few at first, so we didn’t pay them much mind. Now, the mage has apparently arrived in Everstrand, and they’ve stepped up their game.”

  “What’s been happening?” Rowan asked, already worried by the amount of secrecy.

  “There have been questionable deaths, mostly. Afflictions with seemingly no explanation.”

  “But, they haven’t found any evidence of magic,” Rowan guessed.

  Frey confirmed, “The original reports were of animals dying under similar circumstances. Mostly in outlying areas, like Appleby and Riverpost, or wild game found by hunters in the Timber.”

  “A lot of the game,” Ieus added, “was torn to pieces, shredded, like an animal attack, but not consumed.”

  “Then it stepped up to domestic animals.” Rowan put the pieces together. “And now it’s people.”

  “Precisely.”

  “We need to handle this fast,” Frey said. “We can’t let the Inquisition get wind of it.”

  Rowan didn’t need to ask why they would avoid reporting it. The Inquisition already watched them enough as it was. Plus, reports of a dark mage would incite panic and misplaced suspicion toward other mages. The Inquisition would probably like nothing more than for the people to turn against the magicae. Causing a frenzy in the city would sure help do the trick.

  “How can I help?” Rowan asked instead.

  “I don’t think there’s much for you to do at this point,” Frey said. “Jorah will be heading up the investigation. We need to track down where this mage is, first of all, and we can go about taking care of the problem from there.”

  “All of this remains internal,” Ieus stated firmly. “And no apprentices are to be alerted to the situation.”

  “Agreed.” Rowan didn’t want to imagine what would happen if this got out of hand. He merely hoped Jorah worked fast.

  “But, enough about all this,” Frey huffed. “It’s giving me a headache. What is it that you needed, dear?” She slipped into the matronly role Rowan had come to find comforting.

  “I need to set up another masters exam.”

  “Already?” Ieus’s words were amused rather than disbelieving.

  Ieus and Frey understood, more than anyone, that they needed to invest in the next generation of mages. It was what made them both such wonderful teachers. Frey had taught him a lot during his apprenticeship—however, she argued that fact—and Ieus was a patient mentor.

  “What have you been working on?” Frey inquired.

  “I’m going to try for Spirit.”

  “Incarnum has never particularly been your strong suit,” Ieus replied, using the traditional name of the school.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of work with my blood magic.”

  “That’s near impossible to demonstrate.”

  “I know.” Considering it was mostly used as a way to enhance other spells, it made for a tricky prospect. “But, I’m hoping all tha
t work translates into my hexes, curses, and counters.”

  Frey gave him a considering look. “It won’t be easy, dear. But, then, I don’t have to tell you that.”

  “Jorah won’t pull any punches,” Ieus agreed. As a Spirit master himself, it would be Jorah who would test anyone who wanted to add that particular masters onto their mantel. “At least you won’t have to beat him.”

  “Comforting,” Rowan muttered.

  Frey put a hand on Rowan’s shoulder, stopping them in their walk around the garden, shaded from the late afternoon sun by the overhangs from the buildings. “Perhaps ask Tate to study with you? He’s been working closely with Jorah for his own studies. You might be able to help each other.”

  Rowan hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Tate—he was talented and pleasant to be around, perhaps even a friend—but Rowan was rather finicky when it came to his studying. Deviating from his usual methods could potentially backfire.

  “Or you could hold off,” Ieus suggested. “You could put your focus into Alteration like you’ve been talking about ever since Sacha joined us. I’m sure she would make time to help you.”

  “I want to make high master,” Rowan balked. That required him to receive a third masters, and it would get him that much closer to grandmaster. “Sooner rather than later. So that makes Spirit my best bet. Alteration and Conjuration I’d spend too much time on.”

  “What’s the rush? You have plenty of time, Rowan.”

  “You’re already the youngest mage recorded in any of the guilds to hold two masters,” Frey pointed out. “You’ll get there.”

  “I can do this,” Rowan replied stubbornly. “You know I promised Gram.”

  Frey let out a little sigh, nodding. “Alright, dear.” She rubbed Rowan’s arm briefly.

  “There’s no harm in trying,” Ieus relented. “I just don’t want you to set yourself up for failure.”

  Rowan nodded. He took a deep breath, looking at the garden as he tried to keep focus. “I planned to ask Jorah for study suggestions, but…” Jorah was going to have his hands full with the dark mage problem for the foreseeable future. Rowan wished it would leave Jorah distracted for the test, but the man hadn’t gotten a masters for nothing.

  “I can email you a few study guides,” Frey assured him, ever the support system, despite how long it had been since Rowan was her apprentice.

  “Quail would likely be willing to go over things with you,” Ieus suggested. “It might benefit him as well to have a distraction.”

  “Thank you,” Rowan told them both, feeling relieved.

  His request for an exam before the Masters Board had been granted. Now the real work began.

  A FEW DAYS passed before Shaw finally got around to doing a database search on Rowan. His record came back clean. At twenty-eight, he was five years younger than Shaw. It appeared he was a business owner as well, the address on file coming back to a shop in town—Charmed to Meet You. That was a rather cute name, actually.

  Shaw was fairly certain no one had living quarters above the stores at Orchard Street Mall. Given that Rowan owned a dirt bike, Shaw assumed he lived outside the city. It would explain everything being registered to the shop, at least, since most places out in the Sacred Timber weren’t serviced by Everstrand in any way.

  Looking at the ID photo on the computer screen, it didn’t do Rowan justice. The guy was attractive, no doubt. It had been a spur of the moment decision to grab his name. Now that Shaw had information on him though, he wasn’t particularly sure what to do with it.

  Maybe he could visit this shop of Rowan’s? While browsing the website, Shaw realized he didn’t have much need for a charm. Apparently, Rowan had a masters in enchantment, so there was likely very little he couldn’t do. Perhaps Shaw could ask for something simple, to see if Rowan would take the bait.

  Shaw scoffed, clicking out of the windows he had open. This was all so stupid. First, this wasn’t the way to go about trying to get a date. Second, and more importantly, he couldn’t afford the distraction right now.

  “Speaking of…” Shaw looked at the time. Meredeen should have left for her appointment with the district attorney. That meant her office would be unoccupied.

  Shaw double-checked his pockets before leaving his office. As head of the inquisitors, Meredeen would be privy to even more information than Vaughn. No one else ranked higher, save for Zane, the head of the entire temple.

  As if appearing by mere thought, Zane turned the corner in front of him. With him was a man Shaw didn’t know. Hoping to pass by, Shaw nodded to them. “Knight Commander.”

  “Ah, Inquisitor. I would like you to meet someone. Pollock, this is our newest inquisitor, Shaw.” Pollock offered his hand and Shaw shook it—although he didn’t want to, considering the vibes he was getting from the man. “Senator Pollock is one of our most valued supporters.”

  Oh, joy, Shaw thought sarcastically.

  “We were just discussing his campaign for Prime Minister.”

  Double joy. Aloud, Shaw said, “Well, more supporters of the Inquisition in power can only be a benefit.”

  Pollock grinned, a look even more animal than Shaw had seen on were-creatures. He was a portly man, wearing a fine suit that was likely above his means, with the bearing of someone who thought much too highly of himself. “I’m glad you agree. Where is it you hail from, might I ask, Inquisitor?”

  Shaw’s accent had the habit of making him stand out. “Rouvalon, originally, but I was just transferred from Shadewind.”

  “Commander Larus seemed very unwilling to let him go,” Zane supplied. “Best case man they had.”

  “Excellent.” Pollock beamed. “We could use fresh blood in these halls.”

  Shaw nodded. “I was actually on my way to look into a new lead…”

  Zane waved a dismissive hand. “Carry on.”

  He went around the corner, waiting until the pair had gotten out of sight before resuming his original mission.

  Meredeen’s office was at the end of the hall, conveniently placed where the inquisitors would have to pass by going in or out of the building, allowing her to pull them into her office if the need arose. Knowing there were no cameras in this area of the temple, Shaw took a quick look around as he rubbed at his left forearm. Picking the lock was an easy feat to deft hands such as Shaw’s—the skills of another lifetime.

  The blinds on the windows were already closed, and the glass on the door fogged over upon closing for privacy. The desk was hardwood, the chair large and plush, and there was even nice carpeting instead of the cheap stuff the rest of them were stuck with. Arrogance.

  Unlike Vaughn’s office, Meredeen’s was spotless and organized to a fault. Everything would have to go exactly back into place.

  He slapped a reveal spell scroll on the wall. “There we are.” The brief light that ran across the room bounced back, showing a small glowing outline of something behind a filing cabinet.

  Working fast, Shaw put a flash drive into the computer tower, allowing it to automatically hack and download the contents. While that did its job, Shaw pulled the cabinet out. There was a section of the wall that housed a secret compartment—hard to see if you weren’t looking for it.

  Opening it revealed a bundle of documents, along with a flash drive that was likely encrypted. He didn’t have the skill to hack it himself. It was just as well he knew someone perfect for the job. The computer beeped, signaling the end of the data transfer, so he plugged in the mystery flash drive and a fresh one of his own for the information to copy onto. Shaw had to know what was on it.

  While that was working, he snapped photos of the documents using his phone. He wouldn’t worry about looking at what was on them until later; he was already pushing his luck doing two data transfers. Everything of potential use would get sent in a data package tonight, and afterward he would scrub the evidence.

  Once everything was back in place, with no trace he’d ever been there, Shaw checked that the way was clear. He s
lipped back into the hall, the door clicking shut behind him. Breaking into Zane’s office would have been pushing his luck, but Shaw was willing to risk it if nothing better turned up. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

  Chapter Three

  “STOP BEING AN ass,” Shaw heard Rowan’s friend telling him. “You know, you’ll actually enjoy yourself if you stop worrying about your damn studying for two seconds.”

  “I have less than four weeks before I’m called before the Masters Board.” Rowan sounded as if he were reminding the other man for the nth time.

  “And you’ll do fine. Now lighten the fuck up.” He held a glass up to Rowan—some blue concoction the same color and vibrancy as his hair. Resigned, Rowan accepted the drink, clinking their glasses together before taking a sip.

  When the line of Rowan’s shoulders relaxed and the pair appeared ready to settle in, Shaw moved to the bar. “Dhangan Ale,” he requested.

  “Good choice,” the bartender complimented. Not that Shaw needed to be told. No one made ale quite like the dwarves.

  He smirked when he noticed Rowan glance his way and perform a double-take.

  “Oh, what the—? Seriously?”

  Shaw raised a brow.

  Rowan scoffed, “Out of all the pubs in this town you just happen to pick the one I frequent?”

  “Hello to you too” was Shaw’s reply, complete with easy smile. “Name’s Shaw, by the way.”

  “Why, hel-lo,” the lithe stranger at Rowan’s side replied, leaning on the bar to look around him.

  “Down, Caleb,” Rowan said dryly. “This one’s an inquisitor.” Caleb growled at that. “If it’s any consolation, he was the one who got that other asshole off my back the other day.”

  Caleb’s nostrils flared and he begrudgingly said, “Well, thanks for that.” He took a gulp of his drink before adding as a warning, “Ro’s pack. So, if anything happened to him…”

  “Pack, huh?” Shaw took a drink of the ale set in front of him while he studied the pair. It appeared Caleb was a werewolf—certainly not someone he wanted to be on the wrong side of, especially if he claimed a mage as pack, of all things. “I’ll keep that in mind.”