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  MAGE

  THE GUARDIAN’S OATH

  For Callum,

  without whom none of this would have been possible

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places,

  and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Idris Press Publishing

  Copyright © 2018 Sophie Edwards

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced

  in any form or by any means, including photocopying, taping

  and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

  First edition May 2018

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5136-3667-2

  MAGE

  THE GUARDIAN’S OATH

  S A EDWARDS

  1

  I had never seen the wall surrounding my village, although I wandered the length of it countless times. Rain soaked me, its needles numbing my skin, but I didn’t falter running my fingers along its clear surface. The wall was smooth and cool under my fingertips, but without a reflection of the two moons, only touch proved its existence.

  It wasn’t glass. In the village, when I pressed my nose against my cottage window, my eyes stared back at me, but when trying it against the wall not even a flicker showed.

  Someone could walk right into it, but all the villagers avoided it, and I’d never seen a glimpse of anyone outside no matter how fiercely my curiosity pressed.

  I pounded my fist against the surface and stared at the forest beyond.

  The wall protected us. It cloaked us.

  Yet after eighteen years, the village felt more like a prison and the dangers nothing more than a myth. We were trapped, denied any chance of adventure or exciting prospects.

  I breathed in the musky scent of thorny ferns growing nearby, perhaps warning of dangers that supposedly prowled beyond the border’s safety. I’d never seen any of those either, and with no way out, the rumours couldn’t be disproved.

  I tore my eyes from the wall and focused on the muddy path. My obsession with the outside landed me in trouble on more than one occasion. If Matriarch discovered me out here again she’d send me to train with Griff – a fate I’d rather forgo, but the need to find Lallana spurred me on.

  I pressed on over the slippery ground, protected in my boots, and allowed the moons’ light to guide my way. Both full and bright, they lit up the path with ease.

  A shimmer of light hair confirmed my suspicions, and I frowned at the sight of Lallana perched on a branch, sheltering under the thick canopy. Her tear streaked face shone in the moonlight, and it struck me that she was fourteen now. She appeared far younger, though had grown so much from the young child who followed me everywhere. Being four years older than her, I hadn’t expected to become so close, but with her persistence at clinging to my side and our shared training, our relationship blossomed, and we became sisters.

  I glanced back along the path and smiled at Charlie, jogging to catch up. Even at his young age of fifteen, he cared too much about Lallana to stay in bed.

  I sidled toward her and hopped on to the branch, glad to be out of the rain.

  She startled and sniffed. “How did you know I was here?”

  “Don’t I always know how to find you?”

  She gave me a little smile and wiped her cheeks with her sleeve.

  “Matriarch won’t be pleased you’re out so late,” I said.

  Her eyes widened. “You won’t tell her, Clara?”

  I raised my eyebrows, and she giggled.

  “No one has seen you since the training session,” I said.

  Her gaze dropped to her knees. “I was humiliated.”

  “It’s easily done.”

  “When was the last time you stepped on Ruben’s robes?”

  Ruben, easily the kindest of the three village Elders, made Lallana’s embarrassment all the worse. “They’re long,” I said. “Anyone could have tripped on them.”

  “I tore them off him! Everyone saw … everything.” She shuddered.

  I held back a rising giggle. “I suppose it didn’t help that he’s rather old.”

  Charlie laughed and clambered up beside me, rain dripping from a mess of brown hair. His eyes shone in the moons’ light and dimples chased his grin. He arrived through the night eight years previously, scratched, bleeding, and bruised. No explanation was offered about his mysterious appearance, and his refusal to speak of the outside prevented any chance of satisfying my curiosity. Matriarch asked me to keep an eye on him, and as the only three children in the village, we quickly became family.

  He nudged Lallana. “Look on the bright side. You needed to defend yourself. Pull off anyone’s robe and you’re bound to have the upper hand.”

  Her expression softened then. “It’s a silly class.”

  “It’s important,” he said.

  “Is it?” I wondered. “We’re completely safe in the village, and with no way out …” Not for the first time, my desire to know how he got in danced on my tongue.

  “There’s the dangers, though,” he said.

  “You believe that, do you?”

  “Of course.”

  I thought, at first, the dangers caused his injuries, but he insisted it was simply the journey through the forest. Sharp terrain, he said. Then, he closed up again.

  “We don’t even know what the dangers are,” I said. “Our training might not be any good against them.”

  Charlie flapped a stray hair from his eyes. “Well, when you’re in charge, you can decide what to teach.”

  “I don’t want to be in charge.”

  “Why not?” Lallana asked.

  Because I didn’t have that kind of strength. Or the will to be responsible for so many people. Why would anyone look up to me? I spent more time watching the outside than I did in the village. Taking place as an Elder would remove that freedom for good. “There are others far more capable of that.”

  “They chose you,” Charlie said.

  “With no apparent reason.” I had nothing to offer, more likely to mess up than make the village better. My strength lay in working in the fields. Even combat and leadership held nothing in my skills or interest. Besides, being in charge wouldn’t help sustain the population.

  On the other side of the wall, shadows shifted below the trees, unreachable by the moons’ rays.

  A papilion flew beneath the canopy. Lallana reached out with gentle speed, tenderly grasping the palm-sized creature. Its glowing wings and feathered antennae gleamed through the shadows with the same silvery light as the moons. She placed it on her knee, using her neck-tie to wipe the heavy raindrops from its wings. Its low purr flitted through the night.

  I watched it silently, wondering if it, too, felt trapped within the border.

  “Clara?” Charlie frowned. “You okay?”

  I sighed and dropped from the branch. Another night staring at a desired future. Another night where nothing changed. “Come on. Time to get back.”

  Charlie and Lallana exchanged a glance.

  “What?” I asked.

  Charlie hopped down beside me. “Happy eighteenth.” He reached out a balled fist and placed their gift in my palm: a single, clear crystal, carefully attached to a piece of frayed string.

  “Is this the string you keep in the box under your bed?” I didn’t know its significance. He treasured it. Something from his past, before he came to the village, but I’d given up questioning him years ago.

  He nodded. “We needed something to tie the crystal to and … I wanted you to have it.”

  A lump rose in my throat. I didn’t think he’d part with it for anything.
>
  He watched me with wide eyes. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s perfect, Charlie. Thank you both.”

  Lallana beamed.

  He grinned. Much shorter than me, he needed to stand on tiptoe to tie it round my neck.

  The string grated against my skin but was oddly comforting. The weight of the crystal felt unusual against my chest, and for a moment, it tingled.

  Then, the whole world shivered, and the rain shifted.

  Raindrops parted, cascading like a waterfall in the shape of an arch, exactly where the wall stood. The light of the two moons reflected off its flawless surface.

  I crept toward it, heart pounding, ignoring the mud that squelched underfoot. My clothes stuck to my skin, heavy with the weight of rain.

  I paused beneath the arch, thick enough to shelter me from the rain, and peered at my pale image in the flowing water. It was so smooth, perfect, like a mirror, never changing when my fingers reached toward the surface.

  My hand plunged through. Icy drops ran down my wrist, into my sleeve. I tore my hand from the fountain, shivering with the new cold. Adrenaline coursed through my veins.

  Charlie and Lallana stared from beneath the tree.

  I bit my lip, unable to make out much in the darkness on the other side. The rain pitter-pattering on the leaves and bushes screamed at me.

  One more step, and I could explore the unknown. Finally, freedom from my tedious prison. Anticipation fluttered my stomach.

  “Clara?” Charlie’s voice cut into my thoughts. His eyes gleamed with no trace of fear from his past.

  Lallana stood below the branch, her hands gripping the trunk, her face white. “Should we go back to the village?”

  “What for?” Charlie asked.

  “To tell the Elders.”

  “No, let’s go see,” Charlie said.

  Her lips tightened.

  I didn’t respond, torn between my feelings. The desire to leave tugged at my nerves, but if the rumours of danger proved true …

  “It’s dangerous to be alone,” Lallana breathed.

  “You’ve never been through a Gate,” Charlie added. “Aren’t you curious?”

  I peered at the arch again, intrigued by his words. “A Gate? You think so?”

  “What else could it be?”

  I took a tentative step forward. The Gates, according to the storybooks, were magical doorways leading to many places, and others allowed Mage to use their magic. There were two types of Gates: light and dark, or good and bad as I liked to think of them, and each was controlled by two Keepers. They chose when the Gates opened and closed, who gained passage and who didn’t, and both Keepers were bound by the laws of magic. “The Gates are just stories.”

  “So, what do you want to do?” he asked.

  I surveyed him carefully, my teeth tightening on my cheek. “When you came to the village, did you see any dangers?”

  Pain flickered across his features momentarily, and then vanished. “We’re over two weeks journey into the forest. There’s no civilisation for hundreds of eona.”

  “Really?” My pulse increased. This was the first time he had ever spoken of what lay outside. My curiosity couldn’t be repressed any longer. “I’m going to see.”

  “Clara,” Lallana gasped.

  I flashed a smile at her, teeth tingling with a hint of anxiety. “I won’t be long. Besides, when will we get another chance like this? It sounds like it’s just forest anyway.” A touch of disappointment followed my words. I hoped for something incredible.

  Charlie grinned. “I’m coming, too.”

  Lallana squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, determination etched into her features. “Okay.”

  “No, Lallana,” I said. “You go and tell the Elders. We’ll be back by the time you bring them here.”

  She stepped forward. “I’m coming.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She cast a sideways glance at Charlie and nodded.

  “Off we go then.”

  Charlie skipped alongside me when I passed through the arch. It glowed. Light cut through the shadows, casting rippled reflections on the ground, and then faded.

  The rain continued to fall, beating against my shoulders. Lallana fell into step beside me, timidly gazing around with wide eyes.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She nodded and tugged on her hair, eyes darting around the unfamiliar scene.

  The trees engulfed us, cloaking the area in shadow. Moonlight shone through the canopy in patches, dimly lighting our way. Despite the slight chill of the rain, the drumming on the leaves was comforting, peaceful.

  The forest scent grew stronger, different to the village. Like a new world.

  A low mist covered the ground, adding to the strange new atmosphere.

  Even our footfalls were distinct, loud, almost alien to this undisturbed wilderness. Two sets, breaking a path through the underbrush.

  I gripped Charlie’s shoulder, heart thumping.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  I swivelled on the spot, my stomach churning in confirmation.

  Lallana was gone.

  2

  “Lallana!”

  Charlie’s hoarse voice echoed mine, only feet away.

  My heart sank more each second. Several minutes had passed during which we had searched the damp forest, and still there was no sign.

  I rubbed my cheeks, wishing she’d call. This was my fault. I’d brought her out here. We should return home for help, but the thought of Matriarch’s reaction at my loss of her daughter turned my stomach to knots.

  “Maybe she’s back at the village,” Charlie suggested.

  “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

  Lallana wouldn’t just leave. If she had decided to turn back she would have said something.

  I pressed on through the slushy grass, unsure what to do.

  The trees broke.

  Moonlight flooded a clearing, and rain continued to fall despite the clear patch of sky. A single stone rested in the centre of the grass.

  Thin and perfectly carved, smooth sides stretched upward, ending in a point at the tip. The same symbol above the door of the village hall was carved into the side. Seven interlinked rings.

  I leaned in to study it. “Wait, this isn’t right.”

  Charlie approached. “What?”

  “There’s eight rings here. Shouldn’t there be seven?”

  He shrugged.

  A host of aromas attacked my nose: maple, dirt, rain, and sweetness I had never experienced. My heart raced, and my arm hairs stood on end.

  Lallana’s scream tore through the darkness.

  I plunged into the thickening mist and forest, leaping over roots and clumps of weed. “Lallana!” The rain slowed. Fog closed in, obscuring the trees.

  An uprising root snagged at my foot. I fell and coughed at the warm, dry dust under my fingers, a surprise considering the cool rain and damp undergrowth.

  I strained to hear Lallana, but only my heavy breathing and the pattering rain pierced the air. We would have to go back to the village. Running blindly like this would only get us lost, and that would do nothing to help Lallana, but her piercing scream still resounded around my mind.

  “Charlie…” I spun to face him, finding only shadow. I scrabbled to my feet and stepped forward with shaky knees. “Charlie?”

  He didn’t answer. A trail of dry dirt marked a path between the glistening muck on either side.

  A deathly stillness enveloped the world.

  My neck prickled, and I knew with sudden surety that I wasn’t alone. Something, or someone, watched me.

  My body tingled, radiating from my chest. I stared at the crystal, glowing, illuminating the forest in white light.

  Weight crashed against my shoulders.

  I cried out, knees buckling.

  The ground rose up to meet me, curling dust with my impact.

  The heaviness spread, stinging, uncontrollable, almost t
earing me apart.

  My breath caught in my throat, refusing to release. I squeezed my eyes closed.

  Blinding light burst around me. Searing heat sprang up.

  I clawed at the dirt, slipping like sand through my fingers. The weight grew in intensity. I couldn’t breathe. My whole body tensed.

  And then it eased, allowing my gasps to graze the ground.

  I couldn’t move at first, frozen in confused fear. Light rainfall pattered against the brush and mixed with the sweat coating my flesh. It was easy to imagine each drop, ricocheting off each leaf. The image was clear in my mind.

  Something crackled.

  My eyes flew open.

  Blue flames flickered around me in a large ring, unaffected by the moisture.

  Leaves, dirt, bark, and even the insects carried their own smell, mingled together in a cacophony of sounds and sight. Everything appeared sharper, clearer, more distinct. The fog’s droplets floated before me, individual, yet combined in the way they swirled and danced in the new heat. The smells in the air and the dust beneath my fingers touched my taste buds.

  Mist billowed from my mouth with every breath, chilling me.

  Fire flared toward my arm from a nearby bush. I gasped and shuffled away, eyes locked on the light. Where had the flames come from? “Charlie?” My voice strained.

  He didn’t answer.

  Something moved behind the flames, huge, black and covered in needle – sharp fur. White teeth glinted beneath green eyes, and a growl rumbled deep in its throat.

  My skin prickled, and my breathing turned shallow.

  It slunk closer.

  I scrabbled backward across the ground. Leaves crackled under my palms. Flames sprang up at my touch, licking at my skin, growing brighter, hotter. I couldn’t stop it.

  My feet found enough strength to stand and propel me through the fire, away from the monster.

  Heavy paws pounded against the ground, swift and deafening. The beast’s breath cut through the air.

  My hand brushed a low hanging branch. It caught fire.

  Crying out in fear, I dashed aside, glancing behind at the predator.