“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.
Chapter 26
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.”
