Blademage Adept (The Blademage Saga Book 3) (17 page)

“I understand. An angry Blademaster is not something one looks forward to.”

The ship rocked as the Magi aboard both ships linked minds to call the wind.

“Maybe you’ll take a shift?” Kevon asked Reko.

“I’ll rest now, while you bring my books in from the other cabin,” Reko suggested. “I can do this in his sleep.”

Chapter 28

The days roiled by, darkness and daylight blending into a froth of time separated into six hour shifts.

Wake. Link with the other ship’s Mage. Call the wind. Hold until the end of your shift. Eat. Clean. Cook. Mend rope. Sew sails. Sleep.

The routine was not a full day, but lent itself to the resources at hand. The Magi could recover from six hours of sorcery in twelve hours with relative ease. After the first shift, Reko had insisted on taking his time alone, and had not faltered or thrown them off course. He was quick to take over when it was his turn, and slow to relinquish the duty to his relief, often taking an extra hour so that they could eat and relax.

“Two more days at this pace, we should reach the Southern trade lanes,” Yusa pointed to the chart on his desk. “It’ll be slower, but the Magi will have a chance to really rest. Reko has been… irritable.”

“I would welcome a break,” Kevon admitted. “My Wind magic has never been so focused as it is now, but some of my other training has suffered.”

“The crew should be able to resume all of the ship’s duties when we reach the lanes, natural winds will mean less breakage of the rigging.” Yusa said, rolling the chart and placing it in its holder. “We’ll ride those winds as close as we can to Kelanoth, but we’ll have to use the Magi again for the last leg of the journey.”

“I’ll cross over to the other ship, and let Carlo know.” Kevon slipped out of the cabin, and made his way across the deck to the longboat.

Kevon climbed aboard the craft, and using a pair of Movement runes, turned the handles on the winches that held the landing vessel in place. Shifting his focus to a Water rune, and battling to keep the power at a mental arm’s length, he caused the sea below to swell the last few feet, releasing the hooks that held the boat aloft. Kevon released the Movement rune, and wrestled with the water magic, sliding the boat swiftly over to the side of Carlo’s ship. He secured the lift-lines that were thrown down to him, and waited for the crew to pull him up.

“I could see that this was wearing on everyone,” Carlo grunted. “A fine thing, my being concerned about the Magi.”

“You took the news about Yusa and Reko surprisingly well,” Kevon laughed.

“He doesn’t wear a sword, has no traffic with any Guild,” Carlo corrected his student. “Yusa didn’t know any better, Reko still makes me uneasy. Our Magi say he’s at least as powerful as both of them together.”

“Yusa has handled every physical aspect of their lives,” Kevon mused. “Reko has been trapped, but free to focus his mind as he wished for years on end. It’s a wonder he’s sane. How are the dwarves holding up? This prophecy of theirs has been awkward for most of us.”

“Most of them, excepting the Stoneguard, have kept below for the bulk of the journey,” Carlo shrugged. “Rarely a day goes by when one of them nearly goes over the railing. They play like Novices, but there’s something about them, something dangerous, just under the surface.”

“That’s the same impression I had of them,” Kevon admitted. “Bertus said that the Ambassador, Kylgren-Wode, was a fierce warrior, but the Stoneguard were more so, and very demanding trainers.”

“The two Stoneguard that remained on the Isle with them will keep his skills sharp,” Carlo chuckled. “If we didn’t need Rhysabeth-Dane with us, I’d have liked her to stay with Mirsa, also.”

“Agreed. Those three, and Kylgren-Wode, have become quite the family this past season.”

“And your family?”

“Alma is… Alma. We’ve always been different. She’s glad the Dwarven translator is aboard your ship, and not trying to talk her into an Ambassadorship. Martin… I’d begun to think of him as almost a brother, as we worked with Holten, far before it was official. He’s been a good friend, but…” Kevon shook his head. “He’s not had the years I have to wrestle with Holten’s betrayal. That, too, will take time.”

“Your burnt friend?”

“Pholos…” Kevon shrugged. “Hunting for signs of Holten, on two Planes. We have no way of knowing where he is, how he fares. Mirsa showed me how to look for him, but every time I try, I feel nothing. He’s either shielded,
elsewhere
, or dead.”

“An odd ally, to say the least.” Carlo shifted in his chair. “I’ll be glad to set foot on land again, even though it’s going to be Kelanoth. Waine would have dragged us around the Highplain until he bagged a lion.”

“The Elven hunters aboard our ship have been cagey about the whole trip, more so than usual.” Kevon fidgeted before speaking again. “I know they’re our allies, but it seems there is something they’re not telling us.”

“How’s the girl?”

“She’s…” Kevon fumbled for words. “Withdrawn. Since the return of her eye, it’s confusing. Even as an assassin, she was straightforward, most times. Now…”

“I’ve seen it, from the war,” Carlo shook his head. “Something changes in them, things they keep seeing. Not everyone is suited for the lives we lead. Fewer still understand when things… go wrong.”

“I have nightmares,” Kevon whispered. “But she’ll be awake, and
somewhere else
.”

“Give it time.”

“I don’t want to wait,” Kevon blurted. “There are things that…”

“Things happen as they will,” Carlo corrected Kevon. “Was I happy about leaving Bertus and Mirsa back on the Isle? We need them. But we’ll do what we can, what we must.” The Blademaster shook his head. “She’d only just made her peace with being broken. Magic can’t heal everything, time is what she…”

“M’lani said something like that!” Kevon interrupted.

“Then listen to her, if you won’t listen to me!” Carlo roared. “It’ll save me having to beat some sense into you.”

“I’ll try,” Kevon relented. “It’s just…” He sighed.

“Why don’t you start trying back on your own ship?”

Chapter 29

“Wind’s still holding, another day at least before we split from the lanes.”

Kevon nodded at Yusa’s report, verifying by extending his senses outside the cabin, into the upper atmosphere. A picture of the air currents formed in his mind, dulled only by the seas below them, and the cliffs rising far to the East.

“Keeping in constant touch with these winds, using their power to fuel our progress, handing off the connection to our relief?” Kevon asked Yusa and the other Mage seated next to him, across from the captain.

“I think that drawing power from the trades and pushing it elsewhere could shift things,” Reko interjected. “Unfavorably.”

I know he’s an illusion, projected from Yusa’s mind,
Kevon thought as he recovered from the suddenness of the Mage’s appearance.
But I can’t help being startled when he appears.

“I tend to agree,” Kaleb shifted in his chair. “Rearranged air in the doldrums will settle as soon as we pass through, but keeping linked to an active windstream… I dare not think of the damage we did when we used Water magic to force our way across the sea.”

“I…” Kevon touched the shells that hung at his neck. “I should contact the Myrnar as soon as this leg of our journey is complete. They deserve to know what has happened.”

“As a sailor, I’d not want to risk changing the trade lanes,” Yusa agreed. “But our journey is not simple, nor trivial. Completing it swiftly is not without merit.”

“We can manage without tapping into the trade winds,” Kaleb waved off Yusa’s concern. “We’re well rested, the crew is practiced by now for the rigors of our Wind magic. A week or less will not be too taxing.”

“Working the Magi hard until we hit land?” Yusa scowled. “Our mission is of the utmost importance.
She
sends us to…”

“I like having magic ready to use…” Kevon agreed with Yusa. “But if we run into something that two squads of Elven hunters, over a dozen Dwarven Stoneguard, and Carlo’s complement of guardsmen can’t handle…”

“Amusing that
he
is the one to become overly dependent on magic,” Reko commented from his corner of the cabin. “I vote we rely on local Wind magic as we go along.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about him having two votes,” Alanna scowled at the dark illusion in the corner. “His power must be fading, at any rate. I can see right through his image.”

The others turned to look at Alanna.

“His Illusion magic is at least as good as mine,” Kevon countered. “I can’t see any flaw in his…” The Mage trailed off as he saw Alanna squinting and blinking at the projected image of Yusa’s alter-ego.

“Oh. It’s…” Alanna quieted. “Nothing.”

“We’ll be tearing at the fabric between worlds soon enough,” Kevon assented. “Disturbing the local energies as little as possible with our passage seems to be the best course of action. Are we agreed?”

“Seeing no objections, I’ll draft up a message to Carlo, and have Reko send it over to the other ship,” Yusa thumped the heel of his palm on the weathered top of the desk the others were gathered around. “Now, if you would all kindly… get out.”

“We haven’t really had a chance… lately…” Kevon stepped up to the foredeck railing beside Alanna, who was gazing into the distance. “I was hoping that…”

“I’ve had a shift in perspective.” Alanna’s terse response cut through Kevon’s mumble like a rigging knife through rope. “Sometimes we’re forced to look at things differently.”

“We’ve all been forced to re-evaluate our places in the world…” Kevon put his hand on Alanna’s as it rested on the railing. “Now that we see this is not just a struggle between nations, or political factions, but a battle that spans realms, and lifetimes. We can’t see the world the way we used to…”

“No.” Alanna spun her wrist and brought Kevon’s captured hand up to the cheek by her gold-laced eye. “I
see
things differently.”

Kevon looked around, and saw only the Elven Huntmistress even remotely in earshot. “I think we should discuss this in private.”

“Five. Two. Three. Stop changing so fast!”

Kevon felt Alanna slap his hand. He called up a flame, and relit two candles and a hanging lantern before releasing the hold on his Art.

“Amazing. I think there’s a spell one can do to be able to see in the darkness, but you…” Kevon shook his head. “You just see like that normally?”

“No, it’s different than that,” Alanna sighed. “It doesn’t work at night, or nearly as well. The darker it is outside, the darker it would be in here without light. I don’t know how I would sleep if it didn’t work that way.”

“Light…” Kevon breathed. “Manipulation of light. Like the elves.”

“The shadows?”

“Well, no shadows, but… yes…” Kevon sat forward on his bunk and stuck his hand between the nearest candle and Alanna. “Do you see my hand, or the light?”

“Both, plain as day. And it disturbs me that it’s not…” Alanna squawked in frustration. “More disturbing,” she finished, glaring tight-lipped at Kevon.

“Right. The training… or talent… that the elves have to conceal their shadows, to let light pass through themselves, it’s the same principle your eye uses to capture light from beyond obstacles.” Kevon stood and began pacing. “I don’t know if M’lani meant this to happen, or if she repaired your eye to see the way she knew vision to work, but this is amazing.”

“Full moon is in a week,” Alanna countered. “We’ll see how amazing it is when I can’t sleep for three days.”

“Oh.” Kevon sat, his exuberance deflating. “Sorry, I… don’t always see…”

“What’s in front of you?” Alanna smiled, candlelight dancing unevenly in her eyes. “I’ve noticed.”

“Give me a day. I’ll talk with Kaleb, see if we can devise something to ease the effects…” He stood to follow Alanna to the door. “Give me a day.”

“I’ll give you a day,” Alanna stopped in the doorway, leaned back through to look up into his eyes. “But you’ll owe me a night.”

Kevon spat over the side of the ship, holding the railing to remain upright. “I’m sorry to have involved you in this, Kaleb. You’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

The other Mage staggered and grabbed the railing himself. “I’ve held the Dark rune before,” he gasped. “Never for so long.”

The vile symbol still lurked in Kevon’s mind, anchored there by the patch he clutched in his hand. The deepening dusk pushed inward, eager to power the enchantment through him.

“No,” Kevon croaked, addressing the night as much as his flagging assistant. He shoved the scrap of cloth in a pocket, and wiped his hands on his tunic. “Nor have I. That was the second worst experience I’ve had with the Dark rune. Thank you.”
You’d have nightmares if I even told you about the first,
he added silently.

“I pray it is my worst,” Kaleb took a deep breath, stood up straight, and sighed. “And I bid you a good night.”

Memories of L’mort’s attempted entry into the Plane of Enchantment under the ruins of Gurlin’s tower flashed through Kevon’s mind. He blinked them away, and bowed to the Court-Mage as Kaleb walked back toward the cabins.

“Thank you, too, Reko,” Kevon whispered, twisting an Illusion into invisible representations of the words as he spoke them, powering it for a few seconds.

“Not at all,” the words drifted in Reko’s voice from somewhere near Kevon’s ear. “I felt you working, thought I would help.”

“I didn’t know how it would affect you and Yusa,” Kevon messaged back.

“He woke up in a cold sweat, halfway through,” Reko allowed himself a dry chuckle at his ‘partner’s’ expense. “He’s just settling back in now, none the wiser. I doubt he’d have approved of binding M’lani’s gift in such a fashion. I am grateful she did not
fix
us, but am not as taken with her as he is.”

“Well, with your help, it took only one evening, instead of the two I feared it would.”

“See to your lady,” the disembodied voice whispered. “Let me know if you need any more help.”

The hushed sound of nearby deckhands returned to its normal volume, and Kevon looked up to see the first smattering of stars, unfamiliar yet this far South. “I will,” he said softly, not enhancing the speech with Illusion for Reko’s benefit. “And, I will.”