Marcus stopped some fifty yards from the estate and turned. He had spent his walk clearing his mind of all but his intent. When he turned, Marcus took a deep breath and invoked two Words of Power, “Thraxys-Idluhn,” blending them together to create another composite effect. The first Word killed everyone still on the estate where they stood; the second set fire to the estate, a blue fire so hot it would melt stone.
Nodding his satisfaction at the white flames licking the stone structures around the estate, Marcus invoked another Word, causing a sapphire archway to rise out of the ground. He stepped through it and was gone.
Chapter 6
Gavin swam back up to the world from a sea of total darkness, and as he returned to awareness, the first thing he noticed was his right hand being held by two soft hands. Then, he realized the tingling sensation was part of him. He was lying on something soft and comfortable.
Gavin opened his eyes just a bit. The slave woman was sitting by his bed, her hands holding his. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but it had been long enough to change into less revealing attire. She wore a dress of simple homespun cloth; its colors were green with blue highlights and trim. Despite the simplicity of the garment, Gavin admired how it complimented her, but he didn’t like how it left her shoulders bare, displaying the slave-mark for all the world to see. Her dark hair was combed and coiffed. It was at that moment she turned back and found Gavin looking at her.
“Oh! You’re awake!”
“Where are we?”
Gavin forced himself to pull his eyes away from the woman to take in his surroundings. It was a simple room with the chair in which the woman sat as well as a lounge that looked slept in. The bed linens were simple but well-made, and sconces whose flames neither consumed fuel nor radiated heat lit the room.
“We’re in one of the sick rooms at the temple. Ovir and Marcus brought us here.”
“I’m sorry,” Gavin said. “In all the excitement around the alley, I never introduced myself.”
The woman smiled and lowered her eyes, saying, “My name is Kiri.”
“Kiri…I like that. My name is Gavin Cross.”
If he hadn’t been looking at her, Gavin would’ve missed the flicker of recognition before Kiri closed her expression. She knows me, Gavin thought, or at least, she knows of me.
“You mentioned an Ovir and Marcus,” Gavin said. “Who are they?”
“Ovir is a priest of Valthon. He arrived in the alley with a wizard named Marcus. They appear to be good friends. Ovir healed us.”
“Nonsense, child,” a new voice said. “I told you in the alley. Valthon did all the work; I just asked for a moment of His time.”
An older man with the barrel chest and slim build of a military life stepped into the room and stood at the foot of Gavin’s bed. He wore his gray hair cut short, and his green eyes shone with mirth and warm welcome.
“Glad to see you’re awake,” the older man said. “Forgive the intrusion, but I was already stopping by to check on you. I am Ovir Thatcherson, Royal Priest of Valthon.”
Gavin started to rise but Ovir motioned for him to lay still. “Thank you for your care. I don’t know what resources I have to call upon, but I would like to pay you for your trouble in some way.”
Ovir waved that notion away, shaking his head. “Nonsense, my boy. First of all, the temple’s sickrooms are available to all, free of charge. Secondly, even if they were not, you’re blood-kin to a very good friend.”
Gavin’s eyes shot wide. “You know my family? Do you know me? Where I’m from?”
“Slow down there, son,” Ovir said, stepping outside long enough to pull in another chair and move it to the left side of Gavin’s bed, seating himself. “Let’s just say I know your…distant…family. Remember the slaver who tried to brand you?”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever forget that,” Gavin said.
“Remember the mark that was burned into the man’s forehead?”
Gavin nodded.
“That mark is your family’s House glyph. Think of it like the coats of arms the commoner nobility use. Every glyph is unique, and they’re crafted or decided upon in a way I don’t understand. But the short of it is that you don’t have to know your family for your blood to carry your House’s glyph. Don’t ask me how that works, though; I’ve never understood or known anyone who does.”
“What can you tell me about my family?”
Ovir smiled and shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure I could tell you quite a bit, but I think that might be best left to the fellow who will be training you.”
“Aren’t I a little old to be going back to school?” Gavin asked.
“No,” a new voice said from the direction of the door. The voice was deep, full of confidence and authority, and Gavin blinked in surprise as he felt a momentary flicker of recognition upon looking at the man standing in the doorway. He looked familiar somehow.
He was tall but possessed of a wiry, powerful frame. His head almost touched the top of the doorframe. His white hair and beard were trimmed close, and his piercing, blue eyes carried the weight of a man who had seen too much. He wore a black robe with gold-colored runes running around the cuffs of the sleeves, and a silver medallion rested over his heart, hanging from his neck by a simple chain. The medallion had a blank recessed center, and runes too small for Gavin to see well encircled that recessed center.
“I am known in this time and place as Marcus, and I will be your instructor in the Art, what many today call magic.”
“I’m getting the feeling that I don’t have much choice in the matter,” Gavin said, looking at Marcus.
The old wizard shook his head, saying, “No, I’m afraid you don’t. You invoked a Word of Power, and that invocation started you down a path you cannot leave. If you don’t learn to master the power within you, it will begin to cascade until it kills you. Trust me; that would not be a pleasant death.”
Gavin sighed, before saying, “I see.” His eyes fell upon Kiri. “What happens to her?”
Marcus shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I did not almost die trying to save her life, just to cast her back out into the world that harmed her so.”
For just a moment, no longer than the blink of an eye, Gavin thought he saw approval flicker across Marcus’s expression.
“The only way for you to continue to safeguard her is for the world at large to believe she is your property, but be warned. Slavery, like all domestic policies, has its supporters and its opponents. As wizards, we are members of the Society of the Arcane, and the Society as a whole tends to frown upon the practice of slavery.”
“Are you saying slavery is illegal within the Society?”
Marcus shook his head. “No, but you will find few friends at the College if you are believed to own a slave.”
Gavin pulled his eyes away from Marcus to look at Kiri. She held her head low, not making eye contact, but Gavin saw her hands trembling. He shifted his attention back to Marcus.
“Is there any way to remove the slave-mark?” Gavin asked.
“Many have tried,” Marcus said, “but none have succeeded thus far.”
“Then, she’s coming with us. I won’t cast her back into that hell, and I don’t really care what the Society at large thinks of me.”
Again, the ghost of approval flickered across Marcus’s face.
“Then, you will need this,” Marcus said, as he reached into his robe and withdrew a folded piece of parchment, tossing it to land on Gavin’s lap.