Hidden Power (21 page)

It was an explosion neither Kayne nor Aurora could control, but neither could Kronos. She fell into the mist, rubbing her head as she sat up, Kayne lying a few feet away. She looked up, gasping, to find Kronos on his feet, advancing on them once again.

When will this end
? she wondered, struggling to one knee as she prepared to meet her fate, no matter how grim. 

Suddenly a violent explosion interrupted the dark mage’s progress, sending Kronos staggering into a tree stump and onto his side. He lay, smothered in his cloak as Iragos strode through the mist, clutching the Orb in his hand, a triumphant look on his face.

Behind them, Esmeralda 1 rose, with the aid of her giant sisters, clutching her head. “What just happened?” she asked, drowsy and heavy lidded.

“What happened?”

“What happened?”

“I’m afraid you were enchanted,” said Iragos, turning to Kronos.

The dark mage rose, carefully, hands in front of himself in surrender. The Orb glowed so brilliantly orange it hurt Aurora’s eyes to look upon it. “No, Iragos, I beg you, take pity—”

Iragos approached him, Orb glowing a bright, violent orange as he held it in one hand. In the other, growing with every step, was a matching orange ring of power around his free hand. 

“How dare you use the word ‘pity,’ Kronos?” the light mage spat, the hem of his marvelous maroon cloak swirling around his feet much as his silver gray hair flew around his noble head. 

“You have done nothing but use your power for evil since I’ve known you. In all our time in Ythulia you have never once done a noble, kind or considerate act.”

Iragos turned to Kayne, busy helping Aurora up, and pointed his glowing hand in their direction before turning back to Kronos. 

“In all the training of your squire, you have never imbued in poor Kayne an ounce of charity, light or goodwill. And yet it was he who realized the wickedness of your ways, who stole the orb from you, its would-be master, and secreted it away from all of Ythulia to try and hide it from your power.”

“And what of it?” spat Kronos, kneeling now, inching to stand in front of Iragos. “What is a dark mage if he’s not dark, Iragos? Would you have me cower before the Council, daily, shunning my own powers of darkness?”

Iragos shook his head, his marvelous hair shimmering around his skull. “There is a need for dark powers, Kronos. A need your fellow dark mages on the Council seem to understand, while you do not. In times of darkness, darkness is called upon. When that time comes, Kronos, your friends will be of use yet. But in times of light, as we are in now, then the balance rests with the light.”

Kronos shook his head, moving his hands. “Thanks for the history lesson, Iragos. But I tire of your lectures. Do with me what you will.”

“As you wish.” Iragos smiled, pushing the orb forward, smiling. “And now, dear Kronos, prepared to learn the true meaning of darkness.” 

With that, an ill wind filled the land. A cyclone appeared above Kronos’ head, twirling and whirling and howling with power. It crackled with lightning, it echoed with thunder as, inch by inch, Kronos disappeared into it. 

His body broke into tiny pieces, all black and hard, like crystals, whirring around until they clattered. When at last his body was gone, shimmering and black in the cyclone above, Iragos spoke one word: “Enter.” With that, the cyclone flew to the orb and disappeared inside, one clinking crystal inch at a time.

At last he was gone, the orb grew still and silent, even its orange glow silenced for the time being. “Where… where did he go?” asked Kayne.

Iragos smiled, a look of relief passing across his handsome face. “Where he can do no harm,” he said. “For once, for all, where he can do no harm.”

Aurora had never been so happy to see her parents. Nor they her. That is, after Kayne removed the spell they’d been under. Her mother, sitting on the humble bed of their room at the Inn, looked at her as if for the first time.

“Aurora?” she asked, standing up abruptly and embracing her daughter tightly. “I… where have you been?”

Her father stood as well, awaiting his chance for a hug. “She’s growing up, Ma,” he said playfully, eyes still a little confused. “These teenagers get busy, you know?”

“Speaking of busy,” Aurora said, aware that Iragos and Kayne were waiting downstairs for her, “let’s get you home. Your little vacation is over now, you know.”

Her mother grabbed her shawl and the small bag she’d brought. “Is it, dear?” she asked, head still cloudy. “It seems like it only just began.”

Hilliard put his arm through his wife’s and led her down the wooden stairs to the lobby of the Inn. “I feel the same way, dear.”

She had arranged for a humble cart. Or, technically speaking, Iragos had. “A small gesture for helping save the planet, dear,” he’d said, bowing dramatically as he’d presented it. Now she steered it toward home, her parents in the back, arm in arm.

She’d felt bad for letting Kayne cast a spell on them, keeping them in a fog for the last few days of their perilous journey, but after what she’d been through, it seemed best that they were safe, if a little muddled. Who knows what Kronos might have done had he found them?

The ride home was brief but pleasant. She felt relieved, mostly, that the trees she’d always known, the gentle forest and sun dappled leaves would now be safe, protected by the Council and in the favor of light magic, not dark.

She felt vaguely proud, as well. After all, she’d had something to do with that, and she’d been more than just a nursemaid to Kayne. She sensed him there, in the woods, following them at a distance, he and Iragos riding side by side as they tracked them through the woods.

Lutheran was waiting at the cottage, a smile on his face, resting on a new cane. It was crystal, a gift from Iragos, and though far from magical, it was quite dandy! 

With a little help from the light mage he’d been able to fix the barn and restore the damage done to the crops by the raging minions, and even managed to smuggle in a few new Bleaters, Mooers and even a Hooter or two to make it all official.

“My dear friend,” Hilliard said, emerging from the cart to embrace Lutheran. “Why, it looks like you’ve been through quite a battle.”

Lutheran nodded, casting a quick wink in Aurora’s direction. “What’s that they say, my old friend? Getting old is not for squires!”

As if on cue, Kayne and Iragos appeared at the edge of the small plot of farmland. “And who have we here?” asked Aurora’s mother, playing with her rich auburn hair. “I wasn’t expecting guests so soon after our little… trip.”

Iragos slid from his horse, bowing gracefully. “Pardon the intrusion, ma’am,” he said, as if following a script. “I know the day has just begun and you must be weary from your travels. Might we go inside and speak for a bit?”

“What about?” Hilliard asked cautiously, a note of protectiveness in his tone.

But Majorca quickly silenced him. “We’ll soon find out, dear,” she scolded him, shoving him playfully toward the door. “Now help me get some refreshments on the…”

Her voice faded as they entered the house, now lit with flickering candles; a small feast of dried fruits and berries, fresh hulled nuts and steaming mugs of root tea greeted them. 

“My, my, Lutheran,” said Hilliard as he pulled out a seat for his old, limping friend. “But you’ve been busy in our absence.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Lutheran said, winking at Aurora. “Your daughter helped me find the mugs!”

They laughed, and sat, and ate, six people – three of them enchanted, to some degree – in a room barely designed for four. Still, Aurora had never felt so happy, or quite so scared.

As the meal wore down and the bowls and the mugs emptied, Majorca stood to refill them. Aurora gently dragged her back into her seat, clinging to her hand. 

“Mom, Dad…” she began awkwardly, “I… I have something to tell you.”

“What is it, dear?” her mother asked, gripping her fingers tightly. “Is everything all right?”

“Did something happen while we were away?” Hilliard asked, a flash of concern in his eyes.

“Yes,” she confessed, “and no. It seems, well… it seems I’m enchanted.”

Her mother’s hand grew clammy in her own, her father grew speechless. They stared at her, uncomprehending. Aurora had been prepared for fussing, fighting, maybe even fireworks, but not… silence.

“If I may,” Iragos cut in, receiving a grateful nod from Aurora, “it has come to the attention of the Council of Bright Orders that your daughter here is, in fact, enchanted. As such, we’d like to invite her to join us on Ythulia and begin her training as a squire.”

“A squire?” asked Hilliard.

“Ythulia?” asked her Mom.

It went like that, for much of the morning. Through another round of tea and a fresh loaf of crusty bread slathered in Stinger honey, Iragos gradually convinced her parents that, for a girl like Aurora, “Mage City” could be a home away from home.

“I should start packing,” she said at one point, silently standing from the table. Her father nodded, shooting her a painful look that tugged at her gut. Kayne followed her into her room.

“You’re lucky,” he said, leaning in the doorway as she shoved a few things in her battered leather pack. “I only had a few minutes to say goodbye to my folks.”

Aurora nodded. “So, I really can’t come back and see them?”

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “Someday, Aurora. But not for a while. And honestly, it’s best that you give them time to get used to not having you around.”

Aurora nodded, realizing the truth in his words. She looked out her window, a pleasant valley breeze fluttering the curtains her mother made by hand. Outside laid the family farm. “But who will help my father plow the fields?” she asked.

“I will, of course,” said Lutheran, having limped up behind Kayne. He inched past him, and gently grabbed her shoulder. “Your parents will be well looked after, Aurora.” 

His eyes were gentle and kind, though his face looked haggard from their journey and its many battles. “I owe you that much, at least, for saving my life.”

“And who will look after you, old man?” Kayne chuckled, ribbing Lutheran playfully. 

Lutheran turned, rubbing the blond hair on Kayne’s head. “I may not have magic, you two, but I’ve got resources. Skills. We’ll be all right.”

Aurora nodded, turning and hugging him quickly before grabbing her pack. 

“You have to be,” she muttered, drifting past him. “You have to be. They’re all I have…”

Her parents stood outside the cabin, conferring with Iragos. Aurora hugged them both, tightly, warmly, never shedding a tear. Her mother nodded, kissing her on the cheek. 

“Learn well, dear,” she whispered. “We’re so proud of you and your… powers.”

Aurora nodded, throat too constricted with emotion to reply. Her father hugged her as well, a rare display of emotion. 

“You’re sticking me with Lutheran, huh?” he chuckled, pushing her away and holding the sides of her arms while he studied her carefully. “That’s a fine way of getting out of your chores!”

She laughed, turning as the first tear fell. Iragos led the way, on foot, past the replenished root garden at the edge of the farm. 

“What about your horses? Your buggy?” Hilliard asked, calling after them.

The light mage turned, brilliant, maroon cloak swirling at his feet, electric silver hair swirling around his head. 

“A parting gift,” he said, nodding toward her parents. “To help you and Lutheran around the farm.”

Hilliard nodded, blushing, not one to accept favors graciously. But the relieved expression on his face told Aurora he was grateful. And that was the last she saw of her father’s face, for a while: that look of gratitude, Lutheran on one side of him, Majorca on the other.

“They’ll be fine,” she muttered on their way off the farm and into the woods that led to the Crystal Car. “They’ll be fine…”

Kayne felt the urge to hold Aurora’s hand but, with Iragos right in front of them, fought it with the best of his abilities. Her skin was like an addiction. 

Not just the electric jolt they got whenever they touched, but the desire to embrace her and hold her close to his own young skin. He had never been in love before but if this was what it felt like, he hoped he’d never be out of love again.

They walked together, in silence, through the gentle woods until Iragos turned and, with his staff in hand, smiled knowingly to the cloaked squire.

“This is where I take my leave,” he told them, looking from one to the other with curious, yet knowing eyes. 

“But, we’re not yet to the Crystal Car,” Kayne reminded him, pointing just over his shoulder to indicate the rest of their journey through the forest.

Iragos smiled. 

“The Crystal Car is a convenience,” he explained, silver hair whipping around his dignified head as if they were suddenly caught in a thunderstorm, “not a necessity. At last, not for mages. I must return posthaste to alert the Council as to the latest developments. Kayne, can I trust you to lead Aurora straight and true up to Ythulia? I’ll warn the Council she’s coming so that she can have clothes, a room and dinner awaiting her…”

“Yes, of course Iragos,” Kayne said, bowing deferentially to the powerful light mage. 

Iragos nodded back and reached out for Aurora’s hand. 

“Thank you,” he said, quietly, as if perhaps Kayne was intruding. “The Council will be forever in your debt for the role you played in retrieving the orb. I look forward to working with you personally up in Mage City, as you call it.”

Aurora smiled, bowing. “And I you,” she said. “It’s with great honor that I begin my squire-ship.”

Iragos corrected her, “It is I who am honored, my dear. Safe travels and keep an eye on Kayne. We both know how he likes to wander…” Iragos grinned and, reaching out with his crystal staff, poked a traveling butterfly. 

Before their eyes, in a haze of blue and white mist that appeared out of nowhere, Iragos merely floated into thin air, arising as a second butterfly, drifting up into the mist, then above it, to flutter away and toward the distant, clear city of Ythulia.

“I never get tired of watching him do that,” said Kayne with an admiring tone.