The Age of Mages: Book I of the Mage Tales (28 page)

Rather?
Still, you probably know by now that warm words from Titus are few and far between. And I certainly knew better than to expect a hug. “It was nothing,” I said.

“Have to admit,” said Arthur, smiling wearily as he came to my side, “never in all my years at the PIA did I see anything like
that
. But it was a pity you had to lose the crystal,” he added.

“What, this?” I asked, pulling the stone out of my back pocket. “Really, Arthur—all those years as a paranormal investigator. You ought to know a bit of glamour when you see it, eh?”

Abigail laughed, while Titus folded his arms and shook his head. Arthur grinned and gave me a smack on the arm. This time, I
did
wince.

Then I looked down at my hands, which I only just realized were singed from the fire. I already knew I had burned parts of my face as well. I ran my tongue around my mouth, and found that I hadn’t lost any teeth as I’d feared earlier. Thank God for small favors, I suppose.

I felt so drained from all that had happened—especially the spell—that I leaned against one wall for fear I would collapse. I was soaked in perspiration, almost looking like I’d taken a dip in a swimming pool. Working magic certainly takes it out of you, as the saying goes.

As I surveyed my family and Arthur, I saw everyone was in various stages of injury. We were all dirty, scratched, and bruised, our clothing burned or torn.

“Quite a sight, aren’t we?” Arthur sighed. “I think I have some bandages and things in my bag . . .” But before he could retrieve it from beside the enormous pile of stone, Abigail called it to her hand and began rifling through it.

“No . . . not this one . . . not that either. Oh, this will never do.” Discarding the satchel, she fished some herbs out of a pouch in a pocket of her dress. Crushing them between her fingers, she made them hover in the air around Titus, reciting some ancient Wiccan words. His burns slowly began to heal, the patchy flesh of his face smoothing out. Titus cringed and gritted his teeth, but said nothing. Slowly, the crushed herbs fell down around him to the floor. By the time Abigail finished, he wasn’t completely healed, but he certainly looked better than before.

“You’re next.” Abigail pointed at Arthur. “Let’s see that hand.” Arthur swallowed hard and made no move towards her. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked, taking a gauze bandage out of the satchel. “Afraid of a little magic? Magic just saved your life, didn’t it?”

Arthur gave me an uneasy look, but I just jutted my chin towards Abigail. Reluctantly, he stood next to her and held out his injured hand, broken fingers dangling uselessly beside the others. Abigail wrapped the offending fingers in the bandage, along with some more herbs. She recited another spell while Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. But when he looked back, Abigail had unwrapped the bandage to reveal his mended hand. Arthur’s eyes bulged, and he tried to curl and uncurl his fingers, only to cry out in pain.

“Sorry,” Abigail said quickly. “I should’ve warned you it’ll be a few days before they’re one hundred percent.”

“Erm, that’s all right.” Arthur rubbed his fingers with other hand. “Saved me a trip to the doctor’s and a good six weeks of recovery, I wager.”

“It’s the least I could do for someone who helped my son the way you did,” she said, and turned to me, getting a good look at my face. “Oh!” she cried.

“I’m fine.” I tried swiveling my head back and forth, but eventually, Abigail caught my face in her hands and murmured the ancient words. I could feel the dented places start to plump back up, everywhere Tarik had bashed me and sliced me, and before that, Blackline. Crushed herbs floated around my face, which stung like mad, but I held still. If I didn’t, Abigail would just demand I do so anyway.

“You really ought to conserve your energy,” I urged as she finished. She looked drained, her complexion ashen. “I’ll heal eventually anyway.”

“You’ll have to,” she sighed, scanning my face to survey her work, then patting her pocket. “I ran out of herbs.”

“What about you?” I asked, placing my hands on her upper arms. Now it was my turn to look her up and down. “You’re all scuffed up as well.”

“Oh, never fear.” Abigail gave a weak smile and waved one hand in the air. “A little rest, and I’ll be right as rain.”

“You’d think twenty years asleep would be enough rest for anyone,” I joked. We stared at each other, then embraced. Ah, the moments like these I thought I might never have again.

“Much as I hate to interrupt,” Titus said, “we really should be getting back ‘up there,’ as it were.” He pointed to the world above us, partly visible through the enormous hole. “Some of us are weak from loss of blood.” He eyed Arthur and smiled. “Though perhaps that can be remedied while we’re still here.” Arthur swallowed hard, fingered his throat, and stepped back.

“Father, don’t be ridiculous.” I started taking off my jacket to put around Abigail’s shoulders, but Titus beat me to it. It was mostly a charred mess from the fire, but I suppose it’s the thought that counts. “Not very grateful to the man who was practically fighting by your side moments ago, are we?” I said. I knew that would get Titus’s attention. If there was one thing he admired, it was people you could count on in the heat of battle. “I mean, he was rather impressive with that crossbow,” I added.

“I suppose,” Titus remarked, looking at Arthur with disappointment. Hopefully, he could wait till we were above ground to feed.

“I think he was amazing,” said Abigail. “Thank you, Arthur, for all you did for our family. And for keeping my Joshua safe.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Yes, thank you, Arthur,” I said. “Truly.” Titus just looked at Arthur, nodded, and grunted.

“Oh, I only fired the old girl off a couple of times.” Arthur blushed and nodded towards the crossbow.

“Though bear in mind,” Titus said to Abigail, “none of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t let yourself get kidnapped.”

Abigail’s jaw dropped, and she put her hands on her hips. “
Let
myself get kidnapped? I’ll have you know there were some powerful protection spells on the house that night.”

“There were,” I agreed. “I can vouch for it.”

“It’s not
my
fault those bloodthirsty reprobates caught me at a weak moment,” Abigail said. “I’d been using my magic for work all day; I was exhausted.”

“Yes,” Titus said, “and this is what happens when you fail to look out for number one.”

Abigail threw her arms in the air. “So we should all just be selfish animals who trample others to get what we want?”

Unbelievable
. My parents had been in each other’s presence for less than an hour, and they were already arguing.

“I think what Abigail means,” I said, “is that she promises not to get so run-down trying to help others that she leaves herself vulnerable. Right?” I raised my eyebrows at her.

Abigail narrowed her eyes at me. “Riiight.”

“That’s all I ask,” Titus said softly. We all stood around awkwardly for a moment.

“Lord, I’m dying of thirst,” Arthur said loudly. “Anyone want some water?”

“Love some,” said Abigail. “Joshua, you want any?”

“I think I have some edibles in here as well.” Arthur started taking things out of the satchel.

Although I was thirsty, I was too keyed up to think of drinking anything. “Maybe in a bit,” I said. As Abigail and Arthur leaned over the satchel, I went and stood next to Titus.

“So,” I said, looking around the cavern.

“So,” he repeated, doing the same.

“About that, ah, remark I made earlier, when we were searching for Abigail,” I said. “How you would have been just another slaughterer . . .”

“It’s already forgotten,” said Titus. Then he sighed. “Besides, you were probably right.”

My eyes widened.
My
father admitting I was right about something? Dear reader, I was shocked to find the world didn’t come to a standstill.

“There’s a reason I don’t share some of the details of my past,” he continued. “About the kind of general I used to be. Much of it . . . much of it is nothing to be proud of.” Titus closed his eyes, then opened them. “Sometimes I’m torn between wanting you to be more like me, and secretly being glad that you aren’t.” He glanced at me, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. “Well, perhaps not so secretly now. I don’t really know how you developed this quality of putting others before yourself. It’s quite . . . unusual.” I couldn’t tell if he meant it as a compliment, but I decided to take it as one.

“When you were born,” he said, his voice much lower, “you were so sickly, we didn’t think you were going to survive. Odd, for witch blood. Perhaps it’s because of that I forget how strong you are.”

This was an unexpected moment of tenderness from my father. I cleared my throat. “Well, that’s my motto,” I said, balling one hand into a fist. “Virtus per fragilitas. Strength through fragility.”

Titus rolled his eyes, then surveyed the cavern floor. It was still littered with the bodies of the many vampires we defeated. “Well, regardless, I was wrong about you,” he conceded. “Although not as physically capable as I would like, it’s true you have abilities that should be valued. Though for a while, I feared you’d turn out to be a coward.”

“Just because one isn’t bloodthirsty doesn’t make one a coward,” I pointed out.

“Yes,” my father said wryly. “I see that now. And I thought that because you couldn’t be loyal to me—”

I started to speak, but Titus put up his hand.

“Let me finish,” he said. “I thought . . . I thought it meant you couldn’t be loyal to anyone. But the way you single-mindedly rescued your mother says otherwise.”

“I was never disloyal to you, Father,” I protested. “But perhaps a clash in personalities might have given that impression. We are a bit different, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Yes, I did notice,” he murmured. Again, the wry smile. “And I didn’t really think you were doing quite as bad a job with the investigation as I pretended.”

My mouth formed an O. “Well, you certainly could’ve fooled me!” I said.

“And I actually respected the way you held your own with half the Council,” Titus continued, putting his hands in his pockets. “Rather disappointed I wasn’t there to see it.”

“I did get a few good blows in,” I confessed with a grin.

Titus tilted his head towards me. “Also, I
was
paying attention while you were fighting Blackline. You made a vacuum when he tried to bury you, yes? Not too shabby.”

“Don’t forget the part where I turned his own spell on him,” I added.

“And that.”

“So,” I said after a moment, “does this mean you finally respect me as a fighter?”
And as a man?
I thought to myself.

Titus gave me a withering look. “Let’s not get carried away.”

I waited for him to say something about how I rescued him from the fire, but no thanks were forthcoming. I tried not to be too put out. He probably already admitted more than was healthy for his pride tonight.

“I will say that having children is an interesting experience,” he said. “I never thought I would. In some way, you are proof I was not a complete failure in life. My entire empire crumbled—”

I raised my eyebrows. “
Your
empire?”

“Well,
the
empire, anyway. It all turned to dust, except for you.” He looked me up and down. “You are still here.”

I shrugged. “Yes, but other than continuing to exist, I didn’t really do anything.”

“You gave Rome back to me,” Titus said, deliberately not meeting my eyes. “That’s something I never thought I’d have again. I was weak. I didn’t have the courage to return by myself, to face what I had lost.”

I
knew
it!
I thought.

“But now that it’s over,” Titus continued, “I feel a sort of peace about it.”

“
You
lacked courage?” I said. “The great Titus Aurelius, afraid? I didn’t think such a thing was possible.”
At least, I didn’t when I started this little quest
.

“Not afraid, exactly,” my father said quickly, turning back to me. “Dreading the idea, more like.”

My eyebrows knit together. “And are you disappointed it’s not the way you remember?”

For a few seconds, Titus said nothing. “No,” he finally replied. “I’m not. In many ways, it’s actually a relief. Some things are familiar, others not. Some things are superior, in fact. Though not those damnable Vespas.”

“No,” I agreed, smiling. A brief image of my father trying to avoid the collision earlier flashed through my mind. “Not the Vespas.”

“Ancient Rome had its age, as did we ancient witches,” Titus declared. “Now we have a new one. Perhaps a better one. Perhaps,” he gave me a sidelong glance, “the age of mages.” He put one hand on my shoulder, and we smiled at each other.

“Well, we’re ready to get out of here if you are,” Arthur said, walking over to us with Abigail beside him. His satchel was slung over his shoulder, and under one arm he held the crossbow.