Mage- The Guardian's Oath Read online

  Its fur glistened in the firelight with its quick advance. It snapped at the fire, jaws clenching with more power than Elder Ruben’s strike.

  The ground grappled at my feet, dragging me down. Flames billowed. Heat blasted my face. I clutched my foot, wincing at the deep ache, and then pushed on, leaving a trail of burning light behind me.

  The creature snarled.

  More pounding sounded from my right, and my stomach lurched at a second beast, lunging forward, forcing me to change direction. Just as huge as the first, it snarled, brown – tinged fur bristling.

  Water tumbled from a tangle of leaves, sizzling against my skin. A branch scratched at my side. Pain tore across it.

  My foot ached, slowing my stumbled progress. They would catch me. Charlie and Lallana … I should never have brought them out here.

  A third monster leapt into my path, swiping with a clawed paw.

  The weight knocked me to the ground, blood seeping from a new gash in my shoulder. Desperately, I grabbed a root to pull myself away. The rough bark scratched my fingers and ignited at my touch. I rolled back with a gasp, at the mercy of the monster.

  It stepped through a beam of moonlight, eyes glowing. Its hot breath smelled musky, like the bark and dirt.

  Another, bigger beast leapt into view and roared, dragging my flinch to the surface.

  The pursuing paws behind me faltered, and the glare of the creature before me shifted.

  I ran, half-limping through my pain. My hand cradled my wounded shoulder.

  The chase resumed, ground shuddering under their steps.

  The sound of running water reached my ears, easily distinguishable to my new, better hearing.

  I pushed toward it, energy waning.

  Thorns bit at my bare arms, crackling when flames sprang up.

  I stared at my hands in horror, at the flames darting across my palms, my wrists. The heat was strong but bearable. No signs of harm manifested. How could this be possible? I had been burned before, back in the village as a child. Even the forest held the sweet, smoky scent of burning leaves and maple, denying any chance of illusion.

  I shook my hands. Pain tore through my wound, and I yelled. Bushes around me erupted, raining sparks and ash over my head.

  Teeth snapped behind me.

  Flames spread up my arms to my elbows. The heat grew to an uncomfortable level.

  The floor ahead dropped out of view. I leapt from the edge, screaming when my stomach dropped.

  The moons’ reflection rippled on the surface of the black lake, before the water engulfed me like sheets of ice.

  I flailed, lost in the freezing abyss, fighting against the loud bubbles of air swarming around me, until my head broke the surface. I gasped, spluttering on the murky water. Leaves floated, black as shadows.

  Beasts, dozens of them, lined the bank above. Their eyes glinted, each of them focused on me. A few bared their teeth. Flames flickered on the trees above and on the grass between them, but they didn’t flinch. They waited.

  My hands glistened in the moonlight, the flames doused. My aching arms fought to keep me afloat, and my mind whirled. What now? Sheer rock and mud lined either side of the gently flowing water, and even if I did get back on land, the creatures would be waiting. The scent of blood mixed with the freezing water, probably enticing the monsters to jump in after me.

  Something disturbed the water. It rippled, pulsing against my back.

  Heart pounding, I twisted.

  Purple eyes peered at me from under dark hair, and strange black markings covered the face of the handsome stranger. “Hello, Clara.” He grabbed me.

  The scene blurred in violet smoke, the water dissolved, then everything went dark.

  3

  The purple eyes of the stranger moved back into focus. His body materialised from the smoke, cloak and all. Black markings swirled across his cheek and chin, stretching down his neck and disappearing in the folds of his robe. A purple, glowing crystal hung round his neck on a silver chain. I had the strangest feeling we’d met before, but at the same time, he was foreign to me.

  The world around us remained pitch black, the previous surroundings gone, no sign of water. My feet rested on hard, unseen ground.

  Was this the Underworld?

  I twisted out of his grasp, and my footstep echoed.

  “Where are we?” I demanded.

  He smiled. “In the Shadow Realm.” The echo of his voice didn’t appear to bother him, but it sent shivers down my spine.

  A gigantic white castle loomed far in the distance, surrounded by bright, white gates. Magnificent turrets reached high above, touching nothing.

  “Take me back.” My voice shook. “Not to the monsters, but to … to –”

  “I cannot do that.”

  My neck prickled, and my shoulder throbbed. Blood soaked my arm, and the metallic scent filled my nostrils. “Why not?”

  He cocked his head. “Your flames were out of control. Returning you would achieve nothing.”

  “My flames? That can’t be right.”

  “Yes, my dear. Your flames.”

  I gaped at him. “But … you’re saying I’m …”

  “A Refiner, dear.”

  I stepped back. “That’s crazy. They don’t exist.” Matriarch’s tales of Mage spurred my imagination as a child. Seven Mage, travelling the world, helping people. All I knew were their names: Refiner, Shade, Healer, Preserver, Dark One, Seeker, Beast. Thoughts of the creatures chasing me stabbed at my mind. No. They couldn’t be.

  He brushed his fingers along his sleeve. His clothes were completely dry, despite having been submerged in water. Mine were dry, too, though muck still clung to them, and the hem of my tunic was charred.

  Blood stained my tunic, hiding the extent of my injury. My thoughts lingered on Charlie and Lallana.

  “There were two children with me. Are they here, too?”

  “No.”

  Pain tore through my chest, and dizziness tugged at my mind. My legs gave way.

  He stepped forward at once, catching me with strong arms. His fingers brushed my neck, gently pulling back the torn fabric to reveal my shoulder. “This wound is deep. It will need tending to.”

  “Then take me back.”

  “No, my dear. The Refiner within you is suppressed here. First, you must learn to master your gift. And you must do it quickly. The longer one spends in the Shadow Realm, the more danger it brings. It draws out life, and with your wound …” He released the fabric. “Were you not a Shade, you would be dead already.”

  “You said I’m a Refiner.”

  “You are.”

  “I don’t understand.” Vertigo threatened to overwhelm me, and I pulled away from him. “Who are you?”

  “I am Orator, Elder of the Shades.”

  Whispers cut through the silence, then faded into nothing.

  I glanced around, heart fluttering. “What was that?”

  “They are the voices of the dead.”

  My heart leapt into a sprint, and I stared into the darkness as though expecting to see Charlie and Lallana.

  “The children are safe, back in the Plain,” Orator assured me.

  My gaze snapped back to his. He met mine confidently, showing no trace of deceit.

  “You can read minds?”

  He laughed. “It was not hard to tell what you were thinking. If you wish to return to them, you must master your ability as a Shade.”

  I shook my head, clutching my shoulder. “The stories … even if they are true … never tell of having two gifts. Only one.”

  He smiled. “You have all seven.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  Orator moved toward me. I shifted back, nausea churning my stomach. “Take me back. Let me go. This is crazy … you’re crazy.”

  He frowned. “Clara, your gifts are strong. Already, your flames are raging. Unless you learn how to use the gifts, one by one they will shift out of your control. When this happens, you can flee to the S
hadow Realm. They will be suppressed, and you can harm no one, neither Mage nor Mortal.”

  “You’re immortal?”

  “Not exactly. Mage have the potential to live far longer, and for that, Mortals were given their name.”

  “But you can die.”

  He peered at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “We. And yes.”

  My vision began to darken. “This is … too much …” I struggled to catch my breath against the growing faintness. “The Mage … they’re stories … just stories. This is a dream. A bad dream. And when I wake …” My declaration did nothing to sway the overwhelming evidence before me. What would happen to me now?

  Orator leaned forward and gripped my hand. Black markings stretched across his fingers and twisted round his wrist.

  Strength flowed through me, wiping away my weakness.

  “What …?” No longer hoarse, my voice radiated my confusion. The pain in my shoulder dimmed slightly when he pulled me to my feet.

  I surveyed his face, sure he appeared paler than before.

  “What did you do to me?”

  “I gave you something only a Shade can give, and even then, only with many years of experience. It should be enough to get you through, though we have little time.

  “The veil here is thin. Here, the living and dead may gather. Each Mage has responsibility. Ours is to communicate with the dead,” he said.

  I recoiled. “Why would you do that?”

  “We assist them. We help assign the Corrupted: the bad Mage, to the Seekers. Among other things.”

  Matriarch’s old stories returned to my memory, and a frown pinched my lips. I’d forgotten about the Seekers. The worst, and perhaps most powerful of the Mage, I never wanted to meet a Seeker. They had haunted my nightmares as a child: creatures in the shadows, never seen, always coming. Evil.

  He scrutinized my expression. The long, messy strands of his hair cast an eerie shadow over his eyes, but it fit his domain. “You must be tested,” he said. “It is the only way to master your gift.”

  Whispers slipped from the darkness, strangely familiar and unintelligible. They echoed and merged with each other like a song, sending shivers down my spine.

  Orator’s violet cloak wavered in an unknown wind.

  “What kind of test?” I whispered.

  “You must leave here. Return to the Plain.”

  “How?”

  He shook his head. “I cannot help you. This is something you must do yourself.” He stepped back.

  My stomach lurched. “You can’t leave me here!”

  “Remember what I have told you. You can do this. You have done it before.” He moved away.

  Panic flooded me.

  The whispers grew louder, closer.

  My hair flickered, though there was no breeze. “Wait—”

  “Each gift is controlled by an emotion,” he said. “Master that, and you master the gift.”

  “You can’t leave me with nothing!”

  Purple smoke billowed from his cloak, engulfed him, leaving only his smoky silhouette.

  I ran forward. My fingers grasped at the wisps until they disappeared in the darkness.

  4

  In the darkness of the Shadow Realm, something brushed my arm.

  I gasped and spun.

  Nothing.

  The whispers grew louder, grinding against my ears until I wanted to scream, and then faded away.

  My skin crawled.

  Something moved in my periphery, quick and dark.

  I whipped toward it. “Is someone there?” My hoarse voice echoed, sending my heart thudding. “Orator?”

  In the distance, a shadow shifted. The shape of a person.

  Uneasiness clouded my relief. “Hello? Can you help me? I …”

  The figure turned, slowly, deliberately.

  Fear clogged my throat, freezing me to the spot.

  His head tilted, studying me with black, lifeless eyes. Grey, tight skin stretched across bony cheeks. The image of Death itself.

  He shot toward me with shocking speed, mouth gaping. A screech tore through my mind.

  My hair whisked back in an unfeeling wind.

  I screamed, shielding my face with my arms against the blow.

  Nothing happened.

  Cold sweat thick on my flesh, I lowered my shaking arms.

  Misty silhouettes shifted amongst the darkness, surrounding me. Faces stared, ghostly white. Something touched my back.

  I twisted to black eyes, inches from mine, only half of the face was visible. The rest melted into darkness.

  My feet staggered back, my breath failing me.

  Another approached from the side, moving with hidden feet. The grey nose looked broken, and hollow eyes held an expression almost of excitement. His bony hands, distorted by shadow, reached out to me, curled like claws.

  “Get away!”

  I fled toward the distant castle.

  Ghosts stirred everywhere, manifesting like smoke in the blackness. One barrelled toward me, shreds tumbling from its body, and then vanished in shadow a moment before we collided. The whispers screamed at me. Fingers grasped from all sides.

  I twisted away, desperately trying to avoid their grasp. “No. Stop! Please!”

  Words became distinguishable from the whispers.

  “There she is.”

  “Stop her.”

  “Hurry.”

  “Might not get another chance.”

  My heart lurched at the words. The castle drew no closer, unreachable in the distance.

  Something caught my tunic, tugged at my hair, yanking me back.

  I yelled, breaking free.

  One flew toward me, mouth open wide. I saw no teeth, only blackness.

  My path was blocked again. A cheekbone protruded from one side of its face. “My turn.” It shuffled toward me, fingers outstretched.

  I stumbled away through a closing gap between the spectres. “Orator! Get me out!” My gaze scanned for a doorway, some indication of an exit.

  The ghosts closed in. There was nowhere to run.

  My feet got tangled in each other, and I dropped. “Leave me alone!” I screamed. My arms hugged my head, and the tears spilled over. A sob broke through, shaking my body. I didn’t ask for this. I needed help. Someone. Anyone. “Please.”

  A breeze whipped my hair. I braced for the worst.

  Then, the whispers faded into silence.

  I opened my eyes.

  Two feet stood before me, deep purple boots stretched to her knees, ending just short of a flowing skirt.

  I gazed up at a woman, the tears turning cold on my cheeks.

  She smiled, adding to the wrinkles round her startlingly green eyes. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Tia.”

  Hope rose within me. I sniffed and peered around. “How did you get here?”

  “You summoned me.”

  “I what?” I pushed to my feet, the ache in my shoulder returning. My whole body trembled.

  She didn’t move to assist me. She only frowned. “You’re afraid.”

  No kidding. My focus fell on the ghosts, standing a short distance behind her, their eyes on me.

  “Take me out of here.”

  “I can’t,” she said.

  The last of my hope faded, and my gaze dropped.

  “Hey.” She stepped forward.

  I looked at her again.

  “You’re the Shade,” she said. “You can leave anytime.”

  “But I don’t know how.”

  The whispers grew.

  I tensed.

  “Stop that,” Tia snapped.

  I blinked. “Stop what?”

  “Not you.” She clasped her hands in front of her. Her eyes closed for a moment, and she took a long breath. “Every gift is controlled by an emotion,” she said. “A Shade’s is fear.”

  A ghost shifted into my peripheral.

  I shivered and sidestepped. “I have plenty of fear. Now please make them go away!”

&nbs
p; It moved closer still. Its whisper grew louder.

  I retreated, my arm hairs raised.

  “You’re not helping!” Tia shouted.

  I jumped.

  The ghost faltered, and then slid back.

  Tia shifted her attention to me. “I can’t make them leave any more than I can change the seasons. They belong here.”

  “But I don’t.”

  She smiled. “You’re a Shade.”

  “Doesn’t mean anything,” I snapped.

  Her smile faltered, and sadness flashed over her features.

  “How do you stand it?” I asked.

  “Stand what?”

  “This. All of it.” I cast a fearful glance at the spectres.

  “Believe it or not, I began same as you, but I came to love it.” She stared into the distance.

  “What’s there to love?”

  Her eyes glistened. “My favourite part was helping them move on.”

  “Was?”

  She nodded.

  My stomach knotted. I retreated a step. “You’re not really here.” My voice broke on the last word.

  She laughed. “You’re sure about that?”

  I didn’t reply.

  Tia’s lips tightened. “Why are you afraid of the whispers?”

  “I’m not ready to die.”

  “You think we’re going to kill you?”

  “Aren’t you?” The words caught in my throat.

  She raised her eyebrows. “You can hear us, see us, speak to us. The veil here is thinnest, but we can’t touch. Not physically, anyway.”

  I touched my hair. “That’s not how it felt.”

  “That wasn’t us. The energy here is strong, but it can’t actually hurt you.”

  I studied her expression, searching for any sign of falsehood. “Why didn’t Orator tell me this?”

  “It was yours to figure out.”

  I almost smiled. “You’re helping me.”

  “Am I?” she asked. “Seems to me you’re using your gift.”

  “My gift?”

  “Talking to the dead.”

  I shivered. “But you look normal. Nothing like them.”

  She held out her hand. “See for yourself.”

  I hesitated. “I’m not sure reaching for a dead person is a good idea.”

  Tia waited.

  I took a breath, and then reached for her with a quivering hand. It dropped through her palm, feeling nothing but a warm gust of air.