The Wandering Mage

  There are eight elemental affinities, or branches, representing the eight forces present on Mani: Water, Fire, Lightning, Wind, Earth, Perception, Reality and Silver. But Silver is its own special case, as it predates all others and is a far more powerful and rare gift. It was around long before the arrival of humans, and it seems that Silver has already grown bored of the tampering of humans, as was mentioned in Chapter Four, paragraph eight.

  — From Secrets of Mani, by Sor the Lark

  (Dri’Shal 19, 997—Night Season)

  Everywhere I went after this, I began to hear rumors flying around the Palace about the visitor soon to be making an appearance. No one seemed to know anything about this Rhidea or why she was coming, just that there was double the preparation work for most of the staff.

  My bubbly liege lady seemed unable to keep herself from going on about the woman. She said Rhidea had once held the position of high magister to King Fenwel of Nemental, despite being born in Nytaea. Mydia had only met her once in her life, and that was when she was a little girl. The Wandering Mage was usually abroad, all over the world, and hadn’t returned to Nytaea in some time. Nytaea was home to one of the world’s largest libraries, so that attractor was bound to bring the scholar back to the land of her birth at some point.

  At any rate, the entire Palace was in an uproar over it all. I was glad that I was no longer a maid, for the frantic cleaning I was getting out of, but I almost wished that I were among the mage students, so that I could perhaps meet this esteemed Rhidea. Oh, well. Mydia would undoubtedly want to talk to her, so I would at least get to hear some of the tales she had. Perhaps I’d even get to see some of her Authority on display. Part of me knew that was unlikely, as frivolous use of magic didn’t fit the description of a stuffy scholar.

  Three days after my appointment as handmaiden, on a cold day nearing the end of the Sol Cycle, we were there at the gate when the sorceress came pushing her way through the crowded streets. I was surprised that she hadn’t simply hired a litter and servants to carry it, or even a carriage. A small crowd of people eager to catch a glimpse of the famous mage gathered at the sides of the street under the lamplight. It was full nighttime now, meaning that Sol had made more than a half circuit since Kaen and I came to the Palace. The stars twinkled beautifully in the night, casting light to see by alongside the auroras.

  The mage at last made it to the front gate, where we stood, and was greeted by Lord Kalceron himself with a deep bow. I tried to keep my jaw from dropping at his token of respect.

  “Welcome, Cae Rhidea. I hope that you accept our hospitality for as long as you care to grace us with your presence, and that you will find the accommodations up to your standards.” He said the words so magnanimously as to almost convince me that he cared about her comfort.

  “Oh, come now, Edrius,” Lady Rhidea replied in a deep feminine voice. “I’m sure your Palace is just as fit as it was last time to house a dusty old scholar like me. I thank you for your kind hospitality.”

  “Indeed,” Lord Kalceron replied. “It has been a long time, friend.” He stepped back and waved her forward. Friend, I mused, trying to understand the exchange.

  At this point, Mydia rushed up and took Rhidea by the hand. “Come on, come on, I'll show you to your rooms . . . My Lady.”

  “Just call me Rhidea,” the mage replied. Her voice was like rich honey, deep and smooth, and her hair was long and of a somber scarlet. She turned to the princess. “You must be Mydia? You were just a tiny, crying red thing when I saw you last. My, that was years ago.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Never mind, child. If it pleases your soul, I shall allow you to escort me to my rooms on the condition that you carry all of my luggage for me.”

  “Of course, My Lady! Wait, what? But . . .”

  “A jest, my dear. I have only this satchel of books here, and I would not entrust it even to the princess of Nytaea. By the way, there are crowds watching.”

  “Oh. Right. Here, follow me.” Mydia took Rhidea’s arm once more and led her inside the Palace, leaving me to follow behind awkwardly. Being the invisible handmaiden came with its own unique frustrations.

  “Ah, this place feels so familiar to me,” Rhidea commented as we crossed the elaborate entry hall. “It seems an age since I’ve walked these white halls. It doesn’t feel . . . quite the same as it did then. Colder, emptier. You know, dear, you look so much like your mother now. I . . . heard about her passing eight years back, and am truly sorry. Eivael was a dear friend to me.”

  “Thank you,” Mydia murmured. “I think I am over it now.”

  Neither of them mentioned the late Prince Kallyn. There was little more talk until they reached the rooms in the northwestern section of the Palace that had been prepared for Rhidea. Once inside, the mage took stock of her accommodations—which were nearly as rich as Mydia’s own—and almost closed the door in my face before pointing at me and asking Mydia, “Is your maid trustworthy?”

  “Podda? Certainly.”

  “How certainly? I need to know.”

  “Very.” Mydia’s trust in me gave me the nerve to step in as Rhidea waved a hand for me to do so.

  “Come on in then, Podda.” As odd as all of this was, it got odder still when she addressed me, saying, “Forgive me for being wary. Such is the way of my life. Well met, Podda.” She held out a hand, and I took it uncertainly, wondering why I mattered. A slow smile crept onto her face and then faded quickly. “Hah. Well met indeed.”

  “I . . . I’m just a servant, My Lady,” I mumbled, trying to sound humble. My nervosity was not fake.

  “No,” Rhidea said flatly, “but nice try.” She released her grip finally, and I retracted my hand, feeling slightly strange. She couldn’t possibly have read my mind . . . could she have? I sincerely hoped that she was just fond of weird jokes, because I did not want to have my identity unmasked by a mage so high that she could address Lord Kalceron by his first name.

  Fortunately, she gave me no more notice for the moment, her attention turning swiftly to Mydia. “I have a gift for you, Princess.”

  “Really?” Mydia’s face was split wide by a distinctly childish grin.

  “I promised your mother that I would give this to you when you were old enough to study it, and now, eight years late, you shall have it. Here.” The mage pulled from her bag a thick leatherbound tome of moderate width and height. Handing it to Mydia, she said, “Take good care of it, and do not let it out of your possession for any length of time. It is an old book, full of the knowledge gained from lifetimes of study in the fundaments and workings of Coaction and Authority. Keep it with you and study it closely. I wish to hear from you about it before I leave.”

  “Oh, how long will you be staying?” Mydia asked.

  “About three weeks,” Rhidea replied. “Now go, you and your handmaiden. I wish to be alone, and for you to set about reading your mother’s book.”

  “Very well. Will I have time to talk with you at some point?”

  Rhidea laughed. “Of course. I’m hoping we’ll get along just fine. But I have some studying of my own to do right now.”

  Mydia turned to go, opening the door to the rest of the west wing, and then stopped. “My mother . . . was she a scholar of magic like you?”

  “Indeed, my dear. She was a good friend, as was your brother Kallyn.”

  “I never . . . I never knew.” Mydia’s face took on a faintly troubled look. “Well, I’ll be going now. Have a nice stay, Rhidea.”

  “Thank you, child.”

  Mydia took her leave, and I followed her out.

  “Podda,” the princess said over her shoulder as we walked back toward her rooms to ready her for her luncheon. “What did she say when she took your hand?”

  “She just said . . . wait, what do you mean?” I frowned. “You were there listening.”

  “She has some strange abilities, and one of those seems to be hiding her words from certain people. Some kind of Perception Authority.”

  “Oh, really? So then, at the gate earlier . . .”

  “Right. I think that was a joke. I’m sure no one was listening. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s all right.”

  “No, no, it’s not that . . . I just . . .” I sighed as we walked. “It was nothing important. I still don’t know what to make of it. Perhaps I’ll tell you another time.”

  “It’s all right. You don’t have to. You sound like you think you’ll get in trouble or something.” She laughed softly, as though that was a funny thought. Hadn’t I already explained to her that people I loved were in danger? She must have forgotten. She could be so frustratingly fluff-headed at times.

  Back in Mydia’s rooms, I met up with Julia and helped the princess get dressed for lunch. One perk about being a personal handmaiden was that I got a break while my liege lady ate a formal meal with her father and the lords and ladies of the castle. But, for whatever reason, Rhidea stopped me as I was leaving, after I’d seen Mydia to her spot next to the mage at one of the long tables. “Meet me in my room after the meal, Miss Podda,” she murmured.

  “But . . . I’ll need to see the princess back to her rooms then.” I could tell, somehow, that our words were sealed by her Authority.

  “Then drop by directly after that. You may go for now.” She waved a dismissive hand.

  I left with a small curtsy, going back to Mydia’s rooms. There, I found Julia waiting with food from the kitchens. “Here,” she said, “Have some. Plenty for both of us. They made lots of extra apple dumplings today.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was serious, or if she had snitched them, but either way, no one would miss the dumplings on a hectic day like today. The cooks and maids had been working double time to prepare for the meal, so there would surely be plenty. I only felt a little bit bad.

  “Julia,” I asked her off-handedly, “How long have you been working at the Palace?”

  She stopped munching for a moment. “You mean, when did I come here?”

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “I guess.”

  “Let’s see . . . I can’t really remember. I think four or five years ago now.”

  “And how long have you been Mydia’s handmaiden?”

  “Almost two years, I’d say. Before you, it was a girl named Andra doing your part. Then I took over for a while until they moved you on up. Still not sure why that was, but the Palace works funny. And I’m glad that all I have to do now is bring food from the kitchens and stuff like that. Bathing princesses is no fun.”

  “Speaking of meals,” I said, “where did Chara go?”

  “Chara? I don’t know. Probably just more errands; you know, all that boring stuff. Better her than me.” Julia scrunched up her face.

  I nodded. I didn’t mind, personally, but to each her own. I finished eating and then went to see if Mydia was done with the meal. I had to wait around a little while before escorting her back to her rooms. Immediately after, I asked leave for a few minutes. Mydia, although confused as to why, bade me go, and settled herself down with a sigh to read her new book—as Rhidea had requested. I went with some trepidation to Rhidea’s rooms.

  She was waiting, seated at a desk they’d set up for her in the second room back, lit by candlelight. I suppose that would have been called her study. “So,” she began, throwing back her long, red hair, “You intrigue me. What is your name again?”

  I was silent for a moment, looking down at the floor. Something about her forward, authoritative way of speaking made me uncomfortable.

  “Look me in the eye,” Rhidea said sharply, causing me to jerk my gaze back up to her impassive face. “Thank you. Now, your name. I seem to have forgotten.”

  I stared at her face, so calm and yet so frightening, feeling little more than the burning desire to run away. Her amber eyes were like a devouring fire. “Podda. My name is Podda.”

  Rhidea sighed, tapping a finger on her desk. “Just tell me the truth. I don’t even need skin contact to tell when someone is lying to my face.”

  “My lady . . . I don’t under—” I cut off with a gulp as she fixed her icy stare on me once more. “I’m sorry. My name is Lyn.”

  “Thank you. Have a seat, Lyn.” She gestured toward a battered chair on the other side of the desk. I took it and sat down across from her, trying not to slouch in my nervousness. How had she coerced me so easily into revealing my true name? It was as if she was in command of the entire conversation before it even started.

  “My lady—” I began once more.

  Rhidea cut me off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t start with the formalities. Here in my office, that all drops away. I’ve never been one for such vain propriety. You see, this was once my office before I left for my studies decades ago and ended up staying in Nemental . . .” She took on a wistful look. “Lyn, you might call me the inquisitive type—I seek out mysteries. When I stumble across something to uncover, I can’t help but investigate it.”

  “Like . . . my false name?” I asked tentatively, still unsure whether she was mad at me or not. The mage was markedly more relaxed already, but I couldn’t read her any further.

  “Precisely. You interest me. I care nothing for rank or class, particularly with my current mission in mind.”

  I almost asked what her mission was, but I stopped myself.

  Rhidea smirked. “You’re wondering what that mission is, child? Of course, I can’t very well just tell you, a total stranger.” She leaned over the table, lacing her long fingers together underneath her chin. “Who are you really? Answer me honestly, and I may just let you in on a few secrets of my own.”

  I thought about her question for a moment. A few secrets, huh? This woman was more puzzling than any person I’d ever met. And yet, at the same time, she seemed . . . genuine. She had already shown herself to be cunning as a whip; I probably couldn’t hide anything from her even if I wanted to. Taking a shaky breath, I said, “All right.”

  Rhidea smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  Her smile put me at ease enough to begin my explanation. “I grew up in a backstreet orphanage, my lady—I mean, Rhidea. The woman who ran it was the kindest person I’ve ever known, like a mother to me. And now . . . she’s dead. Along with most of my foster family. I watched them burn.” I gulped, chewing on my lip to keep it from trembling.

  “I’m sorry,” Rhidea said with surprising gentleness.

  I nodded, taking a breath to hold back my emotions. “A-and two of my friends who were left were captured by mage soldiers soon afterward and brought to the Palace.”

  Rhidea nodded, frowning. “Captured by mage soldiers? Why would Kalceron want them?”

  “Well . . . I’m honestly not quite sure, but—”

  “They wanted you,” she said flatly. “Is that it?”

  I paused. “Yes. How did you guess?”

  “I have my suspicions. The question is, why did Kalceron want you? Did they say? And furthermore, why didn’t they just take you?” There was a certain predatory interest in Rhidea’s fiery eyes.

  “I . . .” I trailed off. I couldn’t tell this woman my secret. The secret that I didn’t even understand myself. I had never talked to anyone but Kaen about it. “I have an uncommon hair color—pure silver—and they said that they were looking for a girl with silver hair like mine. My friend Kaen and I fought off our attackers, but they snuck up behind our two friends and took them hostage, telling me to come to the Palace and turn myself in.”

  Rhidea rubbed her chin with her thumbs. “Silver hair. . . . And you and this Kaen are trained fighters?”

  I blushed. “No. He can fight. But I was . . . somewhat hard to take in for other reasons. I think they decided it was simpler to just take the hostages.”

  “Then they’re clearly fools or amateurs—unless you’re really that dangerous. Tell me, child: what is it about you that makes you hard to capture? My interest is mostly academic, I assure you.” She chuckled softly at my expression of fear.

  I smiled despite myself. Then the smile melted from my face, and I swallowed nervously. I have to tell her now. “It’s . . . something I was born with. It took me a while to realize other children didn’t have the same body as me. I weigh twice what most girls my size do, and I’m just . . . very strong. I have to be careful, or else I can break things and hurt people around me.” I hung my head. “I even injured Kaen one time, when we were little. I felt horrible. He broke three ribs. Lentha never even figured out what happened.”

  Rhidea was frowning with interest the whole way through my explanation. When I was done, she said, “Hold out your hand and leave it still.” I did so, and she took it in her right palm, feeling the weight of it. She grunted in satisfaction. “I’m no expert, but I’d say your arm is certainly heavier than the average girl’s by a good margin. How much do you weigh?”

  I hesitated. “I haven’t exactly had access to a scale like that, Rhidea. . . .”

  The mage rose to her feet. “We’ll find out, then.” She motioned for me to get up, and then made her way around the table to me. “If you will allow me, Lyn, I’m going to pick you up.”

  I laughed. “Rhidea, that’s crazy. There’s no way you could—”

  “Hold still, child.” She put one hand behind my back and the other behind my legs, and suddenly my knees buckled and I felt a strange, weightless feeling as she picked my whole body up off the floor, which creaked with the transfer of weight. She hefted me up and down once, and then set me back on my feet.

  I thumped back to the floor, awkwardly catching my footing as my full weight returned. “How did you . . . ?”

  She stepped back, dusting off her hands and then shaking them out. “I’m a High Mage, silly girl. That was simple earth-based Coaction. I’d say you weigh just over two hundred fifty pounds. More than most men. Remarkable. I honestly didn’t think you were being serious, my girl.”

  I scratched my head. “Um . . . well, it’s not exactly something I’m proud of. Weighing as much as a horse, that is.”

  “The average horse weighs around a thousand pounds,” she said off-handedly. “And you’re not fat, so it’s not something to be ashamed of.”

  Please tell me you don’t know how heavy a horse is from similar experience. I didn’t say the words, but I was tempted to. Feeling heat rising to my cheeks, I cleared my throat. “So, back to the topic at hand.”

  “Right, right.” Rhidea took her place once more behind the table, motioning for me to sit. “I wish I had a safe way to test your strength, but . . . I’m inclined to believe that you’re telling the truth about it. I’ll have to devise a safe test of some sort. In any case, you have been honest with me, so I will provide a few answers for you, Lyn.

  “Lord Edrius Kalceron is looking for a white-haired girl with unique attributes—and so am I. I came to Nytaea for two reasons. One of those reasons was my research into the magic of this world, a phenomenon that has been ongoing for decades now. The second is that I’d heard the same rumors as my old friend Kalceron, that a strange prize walked the streets here.”

  “Me,” I breathed. “H-how did you know? How did he know?”

  “Well . . . quite honestly, that’s half the puzzle. I think Kalceron heard it from someone in his inner circle, who heard whisperings from years ago about this or that—I don’t know the specifics, but something about a child who was brought here by a very strange character. That woman, presumably her mother, disappeared without a trace, or something happened to her. Perhaps she died.”

  There’s something she’s not telling me about it. Her explanation was too vague. But I simply nodded. “It’s true. I assume she died. That was how I came to the orphanage, though. My mother brought me. But . . . you couldn’t have known that I dyed my hair . . . or is it that obvious? Is it wearing off already?” I grabbed my ponytail and began frantically inspecting the end of it.

  “Relax, child. I can tell it is beginning to fade in places, but of course I’m looking for it. No, I was on the lookout for anyone odd or suspicious, someone on the run—say, a girl with a fake name.” She gave me a knowing stare. “But in any case, Kalceron and I are old acquaintances. We’ve had many . . . disagreements in the past. You said he has your two friends locked up somewhere right now?”

  The question seemed to come out of nowhere. “Y-yes. I don’t know where. I hope . . . I hope to rescue them, if I am able.”

  “I see. So, Miss Lyn, are you aware that you possess elemental Aptitude?”

  I started. “You knew that too?”

  “There were a few things that tipped me off. Someone with as high a level of Authority as me in the different branches of magic can tell. When I first shook your hand and looked into your eyes, I knew. Curiously enough, it seems you know as well.”

  So she could tell simply by skin contact. I looked aside. “Mydia and I . . . we’ve become friends of a sort recently. She prompted me to try out a few magical exercises for discovering Aptitude, and I just sort of . . . stumbled upon it.”

  “What branch?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you know what branch of magic your Aptitude lies in?”

  I grimaced. “Not really. I think fire? All I can do at the moment is make a small flame in my hand if I concentrate.”

  Rhidea nodded. “You’re probably a fire synergist, then. Show me what you can do, child.”

  She guided me as I summoned my flame and flared it as bright as I could—roughly the size of a torch flame.

  “Remarkable,” she said as she saw my red flame. “For one so new. Fire magi tend to catch on fairly quickly, but after only a couple of days and no formal training . . .” She looked into my eyes. “Be very careful with this power. You do not yet know the dangers of controlling a flame. You think it temperamental, but you have no idea yet. When you practice, summon as small a flame as possible. It will help build your concentration and also prevent accidents from occurring. Don’t try anything else. And of course, don’t be discovered.”

  She sat back, waving for me to dismiss the flame, and sighed. “Well, now I’ve got my hands full. You may just be more than I bargained for.”

  I laughed. “Is that a compliment?”

  Rhidea seemed to consider for a moment. “No.” Taking a deep breath, she sat up straight and said, “Let’s make a deal, you and me. Quite a simple one, too—you help me, and I in turn will help you.”

  I froze, mind racing back and forth. She couldn’t mean what I thought she did. . . . “My lady, how will I help you? I have nothing to offer.”

  “Sure you do. You are, quite possibly, the key to unlocking one of the greatest mysteries of all time, an answer I’ve been seeking for years now. But of course, you have your own mission. That is fair. Let’s say . . . if you become my pupil and agree to aid in my quest, I shall help you to free your friends. How does that sound? Once we find a way to free them, I ask that you continue to train under me and help me in my search for truth in this world.”

  Truth . . . I considered for a moment. How did it sound? “Rhidea, that’s . . . that’s amazing! I can’t believe you would actually help me like that. But I, um . . . I don’t really know you, and . . .” I trailed off, biting my lip. “Can I trust you?”

  Rhidea laughed. “You’re only now asking that? You can trust me, child. I understand your position, but at the same time . . . you really have no choice but to trust me. You will see whether or not I’m as good as my word when we put our plan into action.”

  “Plan? You have a plan?”

  “Goodness, no! I’ll need time to think. But—” she gave me a conspiratorial wink “—we’ll keep in touch. Remember, you’re my secret apprentice now.”

  A smile popped unbidden to my lips, and I dipped my head in appreciation. “Thank you, Lady Rhidea. Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t grovel, my dear—it’s unladylike. Leave me be for tonight. I’ll do some thinking and reach out to you and Mydia tomorrow.” I turned to go, and she called after me, “Lyn, one more thing. Not a word of this to anyone save Mydia. I trust you’ll keep your silence.”

  “Yes, Rhidea.” I shut the door behind me and left.