In The Cards Part Two
Part One
Once Josiah had gone, Buck shut himself in his house while he tried to sort through everything Josiah had said. He thought maybe it wasn’t Chris who had killed Sarah and Adam, not even by accident. Buck had spent years trying to convince Chris that it had been an accident, that it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t meant to do it. He’d never managed to get Chris to listen, but Josiah seemed to think that Chris had had nothing to do with it at all.
If that was true, he had to tell Chris. He had to tell him right away.
Buck rode out to Chris’s land, only caution keeping him from nudging his horse into a gallop. The trail really wasn’t clear enough for that sort of riding. It had been a long time since anyone bothered to maintain it.
Since the main house had burned down, Chris had slept in the barn for a while and had eventually built a shack to sleep in. Unfortunately, he’d never really managed good control over his fire-starting abilities, and he’d burned down and had to rebuild the shack three times since then. Pretty sloppily, too; since Sarah and Adam he’d turned to drink in a big way. Buck doubted Chris would still have the farm without his help.
Buck went warily to the door of Chris’s shack, calling ahead of himself because Chris didn’t react so well to being surprised these days. There was no answer, but Buck was used to that and didn’t let it deter him. He nudged the door open and stepped inside, squinting into the gloom.
“Hey, Chris?” he said. “Chris?” There was a grunt from the corner, where Chris kept a small table, and Buck was finally able to make out Chris’s form, sitting behind it.
“Hey,” he said, walking over and sitting opposite his friend.
“What’re you doing here, Buck?”
“There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something important.”
Chris sipped from the open bottle on the table. As Buck’s vision adjusted to the darkness, he could see the scowl on Chris’s face. “What’s that?”
Buck hesitated, because it was a tricky matter to bring up Chris’s wife and son at the best of times, and if Chris were sitting in the dark by himself drinking, it definitely wasn’t the best of times. Still, he needed to know. “It’s about Sarah and Adam.”
Chris’s expression turned thunderous, and he pushed himself away from the table, preparing to stand up. “What about them?” he snarled.
“I learned something today.”
Chris turned on his chair, clutching the bottle so hard Buck worried it might shatter. “Get to the point, Buck.”
“The thing I learned was... there are people, some rare people who have magic in them, dormant. It stays hidden, so they don’t get picked up for mage training when they’re kids. They can go their whole lives without learning what they can do, but if something happens to unlock that power... something like a, a terrible tragedy, something bad, that magic can appear later in life...”
“What’re you talking about?” Chris snapped, thumping the bottle back onto the table. Buck tried not to flinch away. He’d always made himself stand up to Chris when he got like this, although it wasn’t easy.
“Chris, I’m saying that... maybe it wasn’t you. We’ve never really considered it, but...what if the - the things you can do came about because of what happened. Maybe you weren’t the cause of it at all. Maybe it’s the other way around, and their deaths...”
“Shut up, Buck!” Chris yelled, finally standing up and throwing the nearly empty bottle across the room. “Stop saying this stuff. Sarah and Adam died because of me. It was my fault. Stop trying to confuse me.”
“Chris...” Buck moved around the table towards his friend, but Chris grabbed Buck by the shoulders, shook him and then pushed him back.
“Get out! Get out. I don’t want you here, making stuff up. Telling me stuff that’s not true. Don’t. Go away.”
Buck hesitated for another moment, but Chris took a threatening step towards him and screamed, “Go!”
“Fine,” said Buck, turning and leaving the shack. “I’ll leave you for today, Chris, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Whatever Chris’s response was to that, it wasn’t loud enough for Buck to hear.
************
Being a tanner was the worst, most boring, smelliest job in the world.
That was why Vin did as little of it as possible. It wasn’t good for business, but as soon as he’d done whatever minimum amount of work he needed to do for the day, he’d take his bow and head out into the woods to hunt, or even just sit and watch the wildlife. It beat scrubbing the hair off a cow’s hide which had been soaking for a month in sheep’s piss. Pretty much anything was better than that.
If he’d had his own way, Vin would have left the tannery. Maybe left Four Corners all together. Sought his fortunes elsewhere. But those sorts of dreams were for them that could afford them. Vin had been lucky enough to have someone take him in after his mother died. Virgil and his wife were getting older now, and had no children of their own to leave the tannery to. Virgil had trained Vin as his apprentice, and Vin supposed the tannery would become his once he was gone. Not that he wanted it. But until that happened, they needed him to keep things running.
Vin was tracking a deer. It was a big one, from the size of the tracks, and he had been following it for a while. He hadn’t decided whether he was going to try to bring it down or not, but he wanted to see if he could find it.
Moving silently, and staying downwind from the deer, Vin came over the crest of a hill and looked down the other side. He saw something that stood out, and frowned. It wasn’t his deer; animal coats had natural colourings that blended into the forest. What had caught his eye was something that didn’t belong. He crept down the hill, making an effort to keep hidden. As he got closer and his view improved, Vin realised that what he’d seen was Baron Creshaw. He was out in the forest, alone. His horse was tethered not too far away. But the really strange thing was that he’d brought down a deer. Vin’s deer, the one he’d been following.
It was a stag, with a magnificent pair of antlers, and for a moment Vin regretted losing the trophy. Then he remembered what was going on and made himself focus.
He couldn’t tell how the Baron had killed the deer. He wasn’t carrying any weapons that Vin could see. He kept still and watched. The Baron took a knife from his belt and knelt down by the stag. He positioned the knife on the stag’s chest, just behind its shoulder. And then he started to cut.
The Baron cut away at the stag with his knife, while blood stained his hands and his clothes. At last, he lifted something in his hand and Vin strained to see what it was. When he realised, he had to clap a hand over his face to smother his gasp.
It was a heart. He’d cut out the stag’s heart. Then he took a leather pouch from his belt and put the heart inside.
What on earth was he doing? Why did the Baron need a stag’s heart? And why had he gone after it himself instead of sending one of his thousands of servants? What was going on?
The Baron mounted his horse then, and rode away, going in the direction of his manor. Vin remained hidden for several minutes more, trying to control his panic.
When enough time had passed that the Baron was long gone, Vin crept from his hiding place and made his way down to where the stag lay on the ground. Blood stained the grass and dirt around it. He could see where the Baron had cut into its chest and taken out the heart. He couldn’t see the wound that had brought the stag down, though. There was no arrow; its throat wasn’t cut, and its legs weren’t marked so it hadn’t tripped in a trap or something. Maybe it had been struck by an arrow to the chest and the Baron had removed it when he took the heart, but it would have to have been an exceptional shot, and Vin hadn’t seen an arrow. Besides, he somehow doubted that the Baron would have risked damaging the organ he removed.
The other question on Vin’s mind was what the Baron wanted the stag’s heart for. He hadn’t taken anything else; the stag’s hide was intact and he’d left the head. Vin couldn’t think of many uses for a stag’s heart. They could be eaten, sure, but it was hardly the choicest part of the animal. There was only one reason Vin could think of for taking the stag’s heart only and nothing else, and he didn’t like it.
There were stories about evil mages creating terrible magics with the use of horrifying ingredients. In a lot of them, the crucial component was the heart of a slaughtered animal, or in the worst cases... a human.
Vin gulped. He had to get out of here. He had to talk to someone about what he’d seen.
************
JD had been cleared by Nathan to return to work, but before he rode back to the estate he had some errands to run in Four Corners. He’d just finished arranging a delivery of grain with the farmer who usually supplied it and was on his way back when he ran into someone walking down the street.
“Sorry,” he gasped in shock, but the other person stumbled and grabbed his shoulders.
“Oh, shit,” said the other man. “JD.”
“Vin?” JD asked uncertainly.
“JD,” Vin repeated, not letting go. JD noticed that he looked worried; his eyes were wide and his hair was a mess. He was breathing hard like he’d been running.
“What’s the matter, Vin?” he asked.
Vin looked around like he was making sure they were alone. “Come this way,” he said, leading JD off the main street.
“Seriously, Vin, what’s going on?” JD asked, but Vin wouldn’t answer until they were tucked away in a corner between buildings where they were out of sight.
“I saw... I saw something,” Vin whispered, his voice shaky.
“What? What are you talking about?” JD asked, becoming annoyed.
“I was out in the woods,” Vin explained. “I was hunting, and then... I saw Baron Creshaw.” Vin looked at him, and his expression became one of terror.
“What about him?” JD asked, because sure, the Baron could be unpleasant, JD knew that better than anyone, but he’d never done anything that JD knew of that could provoke that kind of fear.
“He’d brought down a deer,” Vin said, “And he took its heart. Cut it out with a knife and took it away in a leather bag.”
“So... he was hunting?” JD asked uneasily.
“Why would he take just the heart and nothing else?” Vin asked him. It took JD a moment to catch on to what he meant.
“The Baron’s not a mage... is he?” he asked.
“If he is, he’s kept it secret,” said Vin. “But what else would he do with a stag’s heart? Make soup?”
It only took a moment for JD to come upon the next terrifying question. “What does he want it for?”
“Hell if I know,” said Vin. “I ain’t no damn mage. I only know what the stories say about them, but none of those stories have a mage using a heart for anything nice.”
JD gulped and looked at Vin’s scared face. “What are we gonna do?”
He was startled to hear an unexpected voice behind him, saying, “Do about what?”
*************
It was highly amusing to see JD and his friend the tanner spin around like they’d heard an offer of free ale. Less amusing was the fact that Ezra was sure he’d overheard them discussing the Baron’s activities, and if he’d heard right, Vin had actually seen him cut out the heart of a stag. That wasn’t as bad as what Ezra had feared. When he’d realised that morning that Baron Creshaw had left the estate for some reason that he hadn’t revealed to anyone, Ezra had been worried that he was out collecting something a lot more sinister than an animal’s heart.
JD and the tanner were looking at him with identical expressions of terror.
“Uh... we were just...” JD looked over to the tanner, who blinked back witlessly.
“Just talkin’ about town stuff,” the tanner said. “Nothin’ as would interest m’Lord.”
“Really?” Ezra said doubtfully. “I could have sworn you mentioned something about Baron Creshaw harvesting certain animal organs.”
JD exchanged another glance with the tanner, who looked at him wide eyed and mouthed ‘run’. Ezra decided he needed to stop this nonsense before it went too far.
“Wait,” he said. “I’m not... if the Baron’s doing anything he shouldn’t be doing, I want to know about it. I’ve been looking for a way to stop him for months.”
JD and the tanner looked at him suspiciously. “Really?” JD asked. “How do we know that’s true?”
“Yeah,” the tanner drawled. “Prove it.”
Ezra rolled his eyes. “I can’t just prove it, I’ve spent most of that time trying to make sure there’s no way anyone could figure out what I’m doing.”
“That’s very convenient for you,” the tanner said.
Ezra glared at him. “Listen... you...”
“Vin.”
“Whatever. You realise that if the Baron is doing what we suspect, I may be the only person in this town who has the skills to stop him?”
“Why?” JD asked curiously. “Are you a mage, too, Lord Standish?”
“Not quite. I only completed part of the training, but that’s still more than either of you, so I’ll thank you for your cooperation.”
JD and Vin were still watching him, but Ezra’s thoughts were wandering as he thought about what he needed to do now. The conversation he’d overheard had confirmed his suspicions and suggested that he was running out of time. There was only a limited number of uses for the heart of a living animal. If the Baron was harvesting them, it meant Ezra couldn’t afford to wait around until he was completely prepared for every outcome. He needed to act now.
“Do you know where Baron Creshaw went, Vin?” Ezra asked.
“Nah,” said Vin. “I weren’t about to try to follow him, not after that.”
“A reasonable choice,” Ezra allowed. “I’m worried that he’s collecting items to cast a spell. Next time he might not stop at seeking deer hearts.” Vin and JD both nodded at the implication, looking solemn. “I’ve been readying my own magic, expecting that this might come to a fight, but what I really need is to understand better what Creshaw is planning to do.”
Again, Vin and JD nodded. Ezra said, “JD, do you think there’s any way you can get into the Baron’s private quarters, somehow?”
“Uh...” JD looked startled. “I’m not sure, my Lord. The Baron doesn’t let just anyone in there.”
“Yes, that is true.” Ezra was a little discouraged. “Well, what if... perhaps I can get in, if we wait until the Baron is elsewhere. You could keep watch for me.” He hadn’t dared to attempt such a thing on his own, but if he had a lookout, things might be different. “Would you?”
“Of course,” said JD at once. It made Ezra feel terribly guilty. JD obviously had no idea of the risks involved, if he agreed so readily. Ezra was taking advantage of him by asking his help. If he were a better man, he would send JD away.
“Okay,” he said instead. “Let’s not wait too long then.”
************
It took a couple of days before the opportunity arose. Ezra watched Creshaw’s every move, but he stayed annoyingly close to home. Ezra figured he was probably crafting something, using the stag’s heart he’d collected, and it drove him wild that he couldn’t do anything about it.
Finally, the Baron went out one morning, telling Ezra that he planned to ride to the lake, a trip which should take him at least two hours. It was the best news Ezra could have heard. As a precaution, he set off the signal he’d created to alert Vin that the Baron was leaving the estate. He’d made two identical three of diamonds cards, and given one to Vin. When he lit his own from a candle, Vin’s would burn up too, and then he would know to keep watch for the Baron in Four Corners. He hoped that Creshaw was doing as he’d said, and riding to the lake, but there was a chance he was actually planning to do someone harm. If that was the case, there might not be much Vin could do, but he’d agreed to keep watch over the town and try to get people out if it proved necessary.
Ezra summoned JD and left him lingering in the hallway just outside the Baron’s chambers with a broom, which was a flimsy excuse for his presence given that he worked in the stables, but it would have to do. Ezra nudged the door open and stepped inside, looking around nervously in case Creshaw had thought to lay a trap to protect his sanctuary.
As he moved around the room, however, nothing happened, and eventually Ezra concluded that the Baron hadn’t troubled to protect it beyond forbidding anyone to enter it. Arrogance.
Tables sat on both sides of the large room, covered with all sorts of things. One table held different herbs and plants. All mages used at least some herbs, and the Baron had collected a huge variety. Another table held different types of thread and yarn. A third held a number of small wood carvings.
All this acted as confirmation that Creshaw was a mage, and he was doing something with magic, but it didn’t prove that he was doing anything wrong. Ezra looked around the room for something more incriminating. And then, annoyed at himself for not thinking of it sooner, Ezra took out the deck of cards he’d brought with him. He’d cut and inked them himself. When he could, he even made the paper and ink himself, and the spells he could cast with those cards were the most powerful of all. He flicked through the deck and took out the seven of spades, drawing on his power to dispel any illusions in the room.
The back wall of the room wavered and disappeared, revealing an extra two feet of space in which another table sat. So this was why Creshaw hadn’t bothered to lay any traps or set a guard on the door. Ezra stepped quickly to the back wall and looked over the table. The wood was rough and stained. Several knives were arrayed on one side. On the other, a clay bowl sat which held what Ezra guessed had to be the stag’s heart, not that he was any sort of expert on animal organs. Now that he was closer, he could smell the decay. His nose wrinkled.
The other thing on the table was a staff, carved from oak with a large blue stone on the end. Ezra reached out to touch it, but paused with his fingertips inches away from the polished wood. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt a strong reluctance to touch the staff. Even holding his hand near it was difficult to bear. He withdrew his hand with a sense of relief, and took a step back.
He wasn’t sure what the staff was, but he could make an educated guess. Usually, magical items could be used once. Ezra’s cards worked like that; they disintegrated after being used, and then he had to make more. Making an item which could cast its spell again and again... that was a lot harder. Ezra was sure that he was looking at such an item. It wasn’t finished yet, he didn’t think. He wasn’t sure why he thought that; it was just a feeling, a vague hunch based on the way it felt to stand near the staff. He wasn’t sure what it was meant to do, either, but the way it made his skin prickle wasn’t promising.
Ezra wondered how he could find out more about the staff before he left the room. Was it a weapon? Was it just meant to cast the same spell again and again? And if so, what? He was still puzzling over his questions when he heard a cry from outside the room.
It sounded like JD, and Ezra’s heart leapt in his chest. He spun around, meaning to go check on JD, but the door opened as he turned, and Baron Creshaw stepped through it.
“What are you doing here?” the Baron snapped. Ezra gulped.
He’d prepared for the worst case scenario of Creshaw catching him snooping around. He’d put together protection spells, just simple ones, he hadn’t had time for better. He’d brought the deck and a half of cards that he’d finished, and carefully stacked them in preparation. He hadn’t brought his ring, wanting to save it for a confrontation he’d been hoping to put off, and right now he was regretting that. He’d been crafting it to attack Creshaw’s specific vulnerabilities, using a small diamond in a brass setting, and he’d spent a long time making it in secret. But he hadn’t wanted the Baron to know that he had it, and he hadn’t been expecting him to come back so soon.
“This is a very interesting room,” Ezra said, affecting an expression of complete innocence. It was not much use, the Baron would have to notice that the illusion along the back wall had been removed, but he could at least try to throw the other man off. Ezra quickly slipped a card out of his pocket, and used it to create an illusion.
It was his Key power. Every potential mage had one, the first magic they learned to wield without needing to be taught. He’d been able to create illusions since he was a child; only small ones, but he could cast them well and with next to no effort. He let the illusion form; a dozen heavily armed men stepped into the room behind the Baron, brandishing swords, and Creshaw spun to confront them.
Baron Creshaw directed a spell at the men who had entered the room, and it passed harmlessly through, the illusion disappearing. While he was distracted, Ezra slipped the deck of cards from his pocket and palmed the first five from the top. He knew what they were already; had stacked them so that the four fours were on top. He used a strong spell, hoping that he could end the fight before it started, before Baron Creshaw expected him to present a threat. But the Baron deflected his attack just in time, and returned the assault with a blast of his own power. Ezra’s protective spells absorbed the worst of it, but knocked him backwards. He dealt himself another five cards. A straight flush, five to nine of clubs. It took the Baron by surprise; he must not have expected Ezra to withstand his first attack. As Ezra used the cards, they crumbled into dust in his hands.
The Baron attacked again, and this time Ezra tried to dodge out of the way. He was only partly successful, and there was a painful burning sensation on his left leg, but he ignored it as he palmed his next hand. Two pairs, aces over eights, and he needed this one to stick. He saw the Baron make some kind of protection spell using a trinket that had been sitting on a side table. It blocked part of the spell, but Ezra was satisfied when a gash opened up across his brow. Desperately, he tried to pick up the next five cards. A full house, jacks and kings, and this one should finish him if he was quick enough...
But he was only just lifting his hand when the Baron looked at him and said, “I made that rug you’re standing on.”
Ezra tried to jump clear, but it was too late. The rug had a pattern of vines on it, and they sprang to life, winding around his legs and pulling him off balance. He tried to aim his spell at the Baron, but it missed and blasted a hole through the window instead. The vines pulled him down to the ground, wrapping around his hands so that he couldn’t use the cards any more.
The Baron stepped towards him, unwinding an ornate scarf from around his neck. “I made this as well,” he said, laying it over Ezra’s face. “I hope you like it.”
***************
Chris was pretty pissed off. He had been for a few days. He blamed Buck. He often blamed Buck for things, but this time he was pretty sure it was actually his fault. It was Buck who brought up Sarah and Adam. He usually avoided the subject. It was better that way.
It wasn’t as though he didn’t think of Sarah and Adam all the time, every single day. He did. That was what drove him to the drink. Remembering that he was responsible for ending their lives was impossible to bear without the alcohol dulling the agony of it. He was almost used to it now.
It was cruel of Buck, though, to dangle the idea in front of him that he wasn’t responsible after all. He’d refused to accept the truth, back when it had happened. He’d loved his wife and son with everything in him, how could he ever do anything to hurt them? Surely it was impossible. But he’d been so angry back then, at himself and the world, and every time his control over his temper slipped, his terrible power slipped free. He started fires without meaning to. Without even thinking about it. Just like he hadn’t meant to do it that night, and hadn’t thought about it. It had happened anyway, without any intention on his part. That hadn’t mattered.
Buck had said maybe it wasn’t his fault. But Chris had already made himself accept the truth.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t looked for someone to blame. Chris thought sometimes that the grief would be so much easier to bear if he could lay blame for it at someone else’s feet. All his rage instead turned inwards, and there was nothing productive he could do with that. Nothing except ending his miserable life, and sure, he’d considered it many times, but he’d made promises to Buck, and himself, and Sarah too.
Buck had said that going through something horrible could cause people to develop abilities. Give them magic, like what Chris had. He’d suggested that losing Sarah and Adam was what had caused his fire magic. Not the other way around. But that couldn’t be the case, because that meant there had to be someone else out there who had killed his family, and Chris had looked for them. He’d looked. They didn’t exist.
Or rather, they did exist, and Chris already knew who to blame, because it was him. He shouldn’t be trying to duck out of his culpability like that. Somehow, he’d gone out of the house that night, and let a fire light up behind him, not realising what had happened until it was too late. He hadn’t been angry, or anything. He’d been worried about his horse, but that came with running a farm. You couldn’t get all mad every time something was wrong with one of the animals, or you’d have no time to do anything else. Anyway, he hadn’t been with the horse when he’d set the fire off.
Maybe time had made the memory fade. He’d never managed to start a fire without realising it, not since that night. He could always feel when it happened, and anyway, he always knew it was coming because it only happened when he was angry. Except for that first night.
Buck had seemed to know something about it. Chris suddenly felt the need to talk to him.
**************
Since talking to Buck the day before and hearing his story about Chris and what had happened to his family, Josiah had gone around the town talking to other people and trying to find out what he could. It was more difficult, though; he trusted Buck to keep his head and hold his tongue, but he couldn’t say the same for some of the other people in Four Corners. As a result, he hadn’t achieved much, but then one afternoon he happened to run into Mary Travis and her son as they came out of the milliner’s.
Josiah stopped and said good day, of course, because he valued good manners. Mary returned his greeting, but clutched Billy’s hand and kept him close to her side.
Josiah had never really had much to do with Billy. He didn’t like being around people, since his father’s death, and Mary was very protective of him. Mary was one of the people he’d been meaning to approach, but he hadn’t known how.
“Can I carry that for you?” he asked, indicating the large bolt of cloth Mary held.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” she said. “That would be such a help.”
Josiah took the cloth and walked with Mary towards her home.
“Are you planning to do some sewing?” he asked, looking down at the cloth, which was a nice deep shade of blue.
“Yes, I’d like to make some new clothes,” she answered. “For me and Billy. I think it’s... time.” She smoothed one hand over her black skirt, and Josiah nodded.
“I’m sure you’re right,” he said gently. “What do you think, Billy?” he asked.
“My son doesn’t talk, Josiah,” said Mary, a note of warning in her voice, but Josiah kept his eyes on Billy’s face and was sure the child was trying to say something. He wanted to say something; Josiah could see it in his eyes, and as he watched, Billy opened his mouth as though to speak, but no sound came out.
“He’s trying to say something,” Josiah insisted.
Mary looked at her son. “He hasn’t spoken since the night Stephen was killed,” she said sadly. Again, Billy opened and closed his mouth, looking frustrated. “We’ve tried everything,” she added, stroking his hair down with her fingers.
“Perhaps not everything,” said Josiah, and he looked around. They had reached the front of Mary’s house, and he plucked a daisy from the garden, ignoring Mary’s slight huff of displeasure. A magic detection spell required barely any effort. He could probably cast it without any components, but it would work better with the flower, and so he crouched down next to Billy and said, “What is it you want to tell me?”
Again Billy tried to speak without success, and this time Josiah could see the spell that was stilling his voice. The flower withered in his hand, the petals dropped from it and Mary gasped. Josiah stood up again.
“Mary,” he said, “It’s magic that’s taken Billy’s speech from him. Will you let me undo the spell?”
************
Mary invited him inside to work his magic. This spell was a bit more involved than the detection spell. Josiah collected a few items from his home before starting; a small piece of carved wood and some of the herbs he grew in his garden. Since he’d left the city he’d mostly given up magic, but all mages grew herbs and the habit had been too hard to let go. His little wood puzzles, too; he didn’t really use them for spells any more, but he found them soothing to make and so he always kept a few around. Sometimes he gave them away as gifts, but he always made more.
With the herbs, he brewed a tea. “You’ll need to drink this,” he said to Billy. “All of it. As fast as you can. Wait for it to cool a bit more.”
Billy sniffed the tea and looked sceptical. “I know,” Josiah said. “It might not taste all that good, but it will help. We could add some honey, if there’s any to be had.”
Mary fetched the desired honey and Billy looked a little happier. He gulped the tea down and Josiah held his wood puzzle in his fingertips.
“Billy, hold the other side,” he said, guiding Billy’s hand towards the puzzle. “Put your fingertips here, and I want you to think about what you want to say. There’s something you’ve been needing to say for a long time, isn’t there? And you haven’t been able to? You need to say it now.”
Billy blinked up at him, his eyes watery, and opened his mouth. “It was Baron Creshaw,” he said, his voice rough. He looked startled at the sound, and a moment later began to cry. “It was him,” he sniffed. “That night. Me and Dad were here and it was just us, and he came to the door...” Billy trailed off, wiping the sleeve of his shirt across his face.
“Oh, my...” Mary whispered, sinking to sit down on the sofa. She put her arms out and Billy leaned into her, resting his head on her shoulder. Mary looked over the top of his head to Josiah, her face set.
“The Baron killed my husband,” she said, and Josiah confirmed with a nod. “And he put a spell on Billy, to take his voice away, stop him from talking about it.” Josiah nodded again, and Mary sighed shakily. “What are we going to do?” she asked. “We’ve got to stop him, somehow.”
************
Josiah was just leaving the house when he met Vin walking down the street. He grabbed Josiah’s arm as he walked through the gate, and said, “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why is that?” Josiah asked. He looked closer at Vin, noting his pale, tense expression. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s... a long story,” Vin said, shrugging. “And you probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“I might surprise you,” Josiah said, thinking of the many bizarre things he’d learned over the past few days.
Vin gave him a measuring look. “Me and JD and Lord Standish have a theory that Baron Creshaw is messing around with some kind of dark magic, and while JD and Standish snoop around his house looking for clues, I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on the town and getting people ready to run just in case the Baron turns up. Want to help?” He lifted his chin defiantly towards Josiah, as though inviting his disbelief.
Josiah mentally sorted through a dozen different responses, and finally said, “Okay.”
**************
Buck, true to his word, had gone back out to Chris’ farm each day since their argument. He hadn’t raised the subject of Sarah and Adam again; Chris hadn’t taken it all that well the first time. He’d tried to just be there and offer a supportive presence. Chris had mostly just ignored him.
So it was a surprise to Buck when Chris turned up at the inn, with steady hands and a clear gaze. Buck had already dropped by Chris’ home that day, and he’d seemed well enough then, but Buck hadn’t stuck around for all that long. Chris dropped into a chair across the table from Buck and looked down at his hands.
“Why would someone do that?” Chris asked. “What possible reason could anyone have, for...?” He trailed off, and Buck realised that Chris had just launched into the middle of a conversation he hadn’t realised they were having.
“I’m not sure, exactly,” he answered, trying to catch up. “It was Josiah who told me about... what we talked about. He had some ideas, but this might not be the best place to talk about it.”
Chris took that in, nodding silently. “Should we-” he began, but they were interrupted when Josiah himself walked into the common room.
“Buck,” he said. “Chris. I was hoping to find you here.”
*****************
Chris had forgotten what it used to feel like, believing - knowing - that the person who killed his family was out there, somewhere, avoiding justice, punishment, revenge. When Josiah explained his theory, it came rushing back to him. And it made him angry. So angry.
It was fortunate that they had thought to leave the inn first. That Josiah had taken them somewhere away from the town so that they could all share what they knew. When the flames got free of Chris’ control, they harmlessly incinerated a tree, instead of a building where people were present. Chris was grateful for that.
But he was still angry.
“I’ll kill him,” he growled. “I’ll go right now...”
“You can’t do that,” Josiah said. Chris all but snarled at him, but the other man didn’t back down, and Buck and Vin stood with him.
“You can’t beat him by yourself,” Vin said. “If you really want to avenge Sarah and Adam, if you really want to, you’ll work with us, and wait until we’ve worked out what to do. Otherwise, you’ll just end up another of his victims.”
Chris hated Vin a little bit, for being right. Damn him.
**************
By the next morning, when there was still no sign of Lord Standish and JD, they had to accept that something had gone wrong. Feeling less than hopeful about their chances, they gathered together to prepare to travel to the estate and see what they could find out.
“The truth is, I was never a very powerful mage,” Josiah explained as he did something complicated with a small wooden box. “So I taught myself to be strong in other ways. To create spells within spells, which would do things that were unpredictable.”
“What does this one do?” Nathan asked.
“It’s a distraction spell. It will convince Creshaw that everything’s okay, and that whatever he’s currently doing is hugely important. If he starts to think that he needs to leave and do something else, the spell will divert his attention, and it will keep distracting him so that he doesn’t leave.”
“That’s pretty clever,” said Nathan. “You’ve made it so that, even if the Baron starts to think he’s been affected by magic, he won’t be able to break free of it?”
“That’s the idea,” Josiah agreed. “A more powerful spell might be able to hurt him, but not prevent him from retaliating. If this works like it should, we’ll be able to get in and out without him knowing about it until we’re gone.”
“Sounds good to me. But what about the people he’s got working for him?”
“Well, that’s where the rest of you come in,” Josiah admitted. He looked across the room to where Vin was fletching arrows, Buck was cleaning his sword, and Chris was preparing his crossbow. “This spell,” he added, holding up a different box made of wooden parts fitted together, “should keep everyone out of the Baron’s chambers. We have to make sure that he’s already in the room when we go in, and that he’s alone. That’s important, because the first spell won’t be strong enough to hold more than one mind, or to keep its hold if someone else directly tells the Baron something’s wrong. We’ve got to keep his followers away. But other than that, I don’t think I’ll be much help.”
“Okay,” said Nathan. “We can probably manage them.” He wished JD was still around. He might have an idea of who they needed to worry about.
A few minutes later Josiah announced that he was ready, and wrapped his boxes carefully before they set out from Four Corners.
“When did you begin training as a mage?” Nathan asked as they rode.
“A long time ago,” Josiah answered, his face closing off. Nathan wasn’t sure what he was thinking about, but the other man’s expression didn’t welcome questions.
“Was it hard? To learn?” Nathan wondered, watching Josiah’s face and hoping that he wasn’t stumbling onto a topic Josiah didn’t want to talk about.
To his relief, Josiah considered the question and seemed more thoughtful now, rather than cold. “Learning magic is far easier than most people realise,” he said. “Mages keep that knowledge quiet, deliberately. It suits them for people to believe that magic is near impossible to learn, and that people who don’t get the training are essentially powerless, only good for party tricks. It’s part of the reason I left that life behind.”
Nathan looked at Josiah questioningly. Josiah shook his head. “So much corruption, hidden behind this facade of superiority,” he explained sadly. “I’m glad I came here. This is a good place. Well, with the obvious exception.”
“Right,” Nathan agreed. “I’m glad I came here too.”
“Why did you come here?” Josiah asked, because apparently that was a logical continuation of the discussion they’d been having. “You’re a long way from home.”
“I am,” said Nathan. “I grew up in this little village, and I think I would have stayed there forever.” He got a little lost in the memory. It was a long time since he’d let himself think about his childhood. “The village got attacked. They killed nearly everyone. I... hid.” He didn’t look at Josiah as he said that, remembering how he’d crawled into a tiny, hidden corner and hadn’t moved for hours. “They killed my brother, but my two sisters survived. They were hurt, though. Hurt bad.” He paused for a second as the memory became overwhelming, appreciating Josiah’s attentive silence. “I tried to help them, but they were both so badly off... My eldest sister died.” He blinked hard at that and cut himself off from saying anything more.
“I’m sorry, Nathan,” said Josiah. “That’s a terrible thing to go through. It wasn’t your fault, though,” he added. “You did everything you could.”
Nathan nodded, because there was nothing else he could do. Josiah didn’t know that he’d seen Kayla and Nari, and known straight away that they both needed immediate help which he could only give to one of them. Josiah didn’t know that he hadn’t hesitated over the decision, that he’d accepted the necessity of choosing which sister to save. Josiah had never had to see the acceptance in Nari’s eyes as he let her die.
It was after that that he’d found himself able to do things that weren’t normal. People who had illnesses he shouldn’t have been able to cure, but did. He’d nearly killed himself before he learned how to control it, accepted that he needed to pace himself. He’d come to Four Corners because he was never able to see someone he could save, and let them go, no matter the cost to himself. In a city, there were so many people, so many who needed help they couldn’t find anywhere else. In Four Corners, there weren’t so many people that he had to choose who to heal. He didn’t want to ever make such a choice again.
Nathan was sombre the rest of the way to the Baron’s estate, and when they finally arrived they split up to search for Lord Standish and JD. Nathan, along with Chris and Buck, crept around the back of the house. There were people coming and going, servants with baskets of vegetables and freshly butchered meat. Nathan watched but doubted they would be able to sneak inside. There weren’t so many people that three strangers would pass unnoticed.
“What now, Buck?” Chris asked.
“Just wait, Chris, and don’t be such a worry wart.”
“I’m not, but you said you could get us inside... I don’t really see how this is going to work.”
“Would you have a little faith? I don’t know why I... there she is!”
“Huh?” Nathan asked as Buck set off quickly across the grounds, heading towards a door where a young woman had appeared.
Chris sighed heavily. “We’d better follow him,” he said, “Or there’s no knowing what he’ll do.”
They crossed the gardens to where Buck stood, talking to the young woman wearing the servant’s uniform. “It brightens my day to see you,” he was saying as they arrived. “It’s been far too long, fair maiden, and I have missed you terribly.”
The object of Buck’s attention giggled and blushed at his compliments.
“These are my friends, Nathan and Chris,” Buck said. “Darlin’, I wonder if we could come inside? We’ve come a long way, and I think my friends would like to get out of the sun.”
“I really shouldn’t,” said the girl, and Buck turned a sad expression on her. “But I’m sure it will be alright, if it’s just for a few minutes.”
“You’re a gem, Maggie,” Buck grinned, and they followed her inside.
Once within the walls, Maggie led them to the kitchen, an enormous and stifling room which smelled of roasting meat. Nathan looked around, and said from the corner of his mouth, “Now what?”
“You and Chris should slip out and see if you can find anything. I’ll stay here and distract Maggie.”
“Right,” Nathan snickered. “Sounds good to you, I’m sure.”
He went to the other side of the room, trying to duck down and be inconspicuous until he realised that the best way to go unnoticed was to act like he was meant to be there. He straightened up and walked more quickly, with Chris at his side.
They went up and down the halls a few times without seeing anything noteworthy, until they reached one corridor which had several armed men standing around. Nathan made to back out quickly, but they had already noticed him by then and did not look welcoming.
“Chris,” Nathan muttered, “Got your crossbow?”
“Of course,” Chris answered, pulling it out. Nathan drew his sword and the guards closed in.
It was a fast and dirty fight, Nathan worried that at any moment someone else would hear the scuffle and come help their attackers. He tried to defeat the guards as quickly as possible, but it took longer than he would have liked. Finally, once they were disarmed and tied up in an empty room, Nathan and Chris raced back to the room they had been guarding and opened it with the keys one of the guards had been carrying.
The door swung open, and Nathan gasped. JD was inside, slumped on the floor, his face a bruised and bloody mess.
Nathan raced to his side, calling his name. JD stirred and blinked at him. “Nathan?” he murmured, his voice slurred.
Nathan put his arms to JD’s shoulders, trying to figure out how badly he was hurt. “Can you walk?” he asked, noting with relief that there were no broken bones or internal bleeding.
“Hurts,” JD whispered.
“I know,” said Nathan. “Come on. We need to get you out of here. I’ll fix you up, but we’ve got to get away from here first.”
Part Three
Part Four
Once Josiah had gone, Buck shut himself in his house while he tried to sort through everything Josiah had said. He thought maybe it wasn’t Chris who had killed Sarah and Adam, not even by accident. Buck had spent years trying to convince Chris that it had been an accident, that it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t meant to do it. He’d never managed to get Chris to listen, but Josiah seemed to think that Chris had had nothing to do with it at all.
If that was true, he had to tell Chris. He had to tell him right away.
Buck rode out to Chris’s land, only caution keeping him from nudging his horse into a gallop. The trail really wasn’t clear enough for that sort of riding. It had been a long time since anyone bothered to maintain it.
Since the main house had burned down, Chris had slept in the barn for a while and had eventually built a shack to sleep in. Unfortunately, he’d never really managed good control over his fire-starting abilities, and he’d burned down and had to rebuild the shack three times since then. Pretty sloppily, too; since Sarah and Adam he’d turned to drink in a big way. Buck doubted Chris would still have the farm without his help.
Buck went warily to the door of Chris’s shack, calling ahead of himself because Chris didn’t react so well to being surprised these days. There was no answer, but Buck was used to that and didn’t let it deter him. He nudged the door open and stepped inside, squinting into the gloom.
“Hey, Chris?” he said. “Chris?” There was a grunt from the corner, where Chris kept a small table, and Buck was finally able to make out Chris’s form, sitting behind it.
“Hey,” he said, walking over and sitting opposite his friend.
“What’re you doing here, Buck?”
“There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something important.”
Chris sipped from the open bottle on the table. As Buck’s vision adjusted to the darkness, he could see the scowl on Chris’s face. “What’s that?”
Buck hesitated, because it was a tricky matter to bring up Chris’s wife and son at the best of times, and if Chris were sitting in the dark by himself drinking, it definitely wasn’t the best of times. Still, he needed to know. “It’s about Sarah and Adam.”
Chris’s expression turned thunderous, and he pushed himself away from the table, preparing to stand up. “What about them?” he snarled.
“I learned something today.”
Chris turned on his chair, clutching the bottle so hard Buck worried it might shatter. “Get to the point, Buck.”
“The thing I learned was... there are people, some rare people who have magic in them, dormant. It stays hidden, so they don’t get picked up for mage training when they’re kids. They can go their whole lives without learning what they can do, but if something happens to unlock that power... something like a, a terrible tragedy, something bad, that magic can appear later in life...”
“What’re you talking about?” Chris snapped, thumping the bottle back onto the table. Buck tried not to flinch away. He’d always made himself stand up to Chris when he got like this, although it wasn’t easy.
“Chris, I’m saying that... maybe it wasn’t you. We’ve never really considered it, but...what if the - the things you can do came about because of what happened. Maybe you weren’t the cause of it at all. Maybe it’s the other way around, and their deaths...”
“Shut up, Buck!” Chris yelled, finally standing up and throwing the nearly empty bottle across the room. “Stop saying this stuff. Sarah and Adam died because of me. It was my fault. Stop trying to confuse me.”
“Chris...” Buck moved around the table towards his friend, but Chris grabbed Buck by the shoulders, shook him and then pushed him back.
“Get out! Get out. I don’t want you here, making stuff up. Telling me stuff that’s not true. Don’t. Go away.”
Buck hesitated for another moment, but Chris took a threatening step towards him and screamed, “Go!”
“Fine,” said Buck, turning and leaving the shack. “I’ll leave you for today, Chris, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Whatever Chris’s response was to that, it wasn’t loud enough for Buck to hear.
************
Being a tanner was the worst, most boring, smelliest job in the world.
That was why Vin did as little of it as possible. It wasn’t good for business, but as soon as he’d done whatever minimum amount of work he needed to do for the day, he’d take his bow and head out into the woods to hunt, or even just sit and watch the wildlife. It beat scrubbing the hair off a cow’s hide which had been soaking for a month in sheep’s piss. Pretty much anything was better than that.
If he’d had his own way, Vin would have left the tannery. Maybe left Four Corners all together. Sought his fortunes elsewhere. But those sorts of dreams were for them that could afford them. Vin had been lucky enough to have someone take him in after his mother died. Virgil and his wife were getting older now, and had no children of their own to leave the tannery to. Virgil had trained Vin as his apprentice, and Vin supposed the tannery would become his once he was gone. Not that he wanted it. But until that happened, they needed him to keep things running.
Vin was tracking a deer. It was a big one, from the size of the tracks, and he had been following it for a while. He hadn’t decided whether he was going to try to bring it down or not, but he wanted to see if he could find it.
Moving silently, and staying downwind from the deer, Vin came over the crest of a hill and looked down the other side. He saw something that stood out, and frowned. It wasn’t his deer; animal coats had natural colourings that blended into the forest. What had caught his eye was something that didn’t belong. He crept down the hill, making an effort to keep hidden. As he got closer and his view improved, Vin realised that what he’d seen was Baron Creshaw. He was out in the forest, alone. His horse was tethered not too far away. But the really strange thing was that he’d brought down a deer. Vin’s deer, the one he’d been following.
It was a stag, with a magnificent pair of antlers, and for a moment Vin regretted losing the trophy. Then he remembered what was going on and made himself focus.
He couldn’t tell how the Baron had killed the deer. He wasn’t carrying any weapons that Vin could see. He kept still and watched. The Baron took a knife from his belt and knelt down by the stag. He positioned the knife on the stag’s chest, just behind its shoulder. And then he started to cut.
The Baron cut away at the stag with his knife, while blood stained his hands and his clothes. At last, he lifted something in his hand and Vin strained to see what it was. When he realised, he had to clap a hand over his face to smother his gasp.
It was a heart. He’d cut out the stag’s heart. Then he took a leather pouch from his belt and put the heart inside.
What on earth was he doing? Why did the Baron need a stag’s heart? And why had he gone after it himself instead of sending one of his thousands of servants? What was going on?
The Baron mounted his horse then, and rode away, going in the direction of his manor. Vin remained hidden for several minutes more, trying to control his panic.
When enough time had passed that the Baron was long gone, Vin crept from his hiding place and made his way down to where the stag lay on the ground. Blood stained the grass and dirt around it. He could see where the Baron had cut into its chest and taken out the heart. He couldn’t see the wound that had brought the stag down, though. There was no arrow; its throat wasn’t cut, and its legs weren’t marked so it hadn’t tripped in a trap or something. Maybe it had been struck by an arrow to the chest and the Baron had removed it when he took the heart, but it would have to have been an exceptional shot, and Vin hadn’t seen an arrow. Besides, he somehow doubted that the Baron would have risked damaging the organ he removed.
The other question on Vin’s mind was what the Baron wanted the stag’s heart for. He hadn’t taken anything else; the stag’s hide was intact and he’d left the head. Vin couldn’t think of many uses for a stag’s heart. They could be eaten, sure, but it was hardly the choicest part of the animal. There was only one reason Vin could think of for taking the stag’s heart only and nothing else, and he didn’t like it.
There were stories about evil mages creating terrible magics with the use of horrifying ingredients. In a lot of them, the crucial component was the heart of a slaughtered animal, or in the worst cases... a human.
Vin gulped. He had to get out of here. He had to talk to someone about what he’d seen.
************
JD had been cleared by Nathan to return to work, but before he rode back to the estate he had some errands to run in Four Corners. He’d just finished arranging a delivery of grain with the farmer who usually supplied it and was on his way back when he ran into someone walking down the street.
“Sorry,” he gasped in shock, but the other person stumbled and grabbed his shoulders.
“Oh, shit,” said the other man. “JD.”
“Vin?” JD asked uncertainly.
“JD,” Vin repeated, not letting go. JD noticed that he looked worried; his eyes were wide and his hair was a mess. He was breathing hard like he’d been running.
“What’s the matter, Vin?” he asked.
Vin looked around like he was making sure they were alone. “Come this way,” he said, leading JD off the main street.
“Seriously, Vin, what’s going on?” JD asked, but Vin wouldn’t answer until they were tucked away in a corner between buildings where they were out of sight.
“I saw... I saw something,” Vin whispered, his voice shaky.
“What? What are you talking about?” JD asked, becoming annoyed.
“I was out in the woods,” Vin explained. “I was hunting, and then... I saw Baron Creshaw.” Vin looked at him, and his expression became one of terror.
“What about him?” JD asked, because sure, the Baron could be unpleasant, JD knew that better than anyone, but he’d never done anything that JD knew of that could provoke that kind of fear.
“He’d brought down a deer,” Vin said, “And he took its heart. Cut it out with a knife and took it away in a leather bag.”
“So... he was hunting?” JD asked uneasily.
“Why would he take just the heart and nothing else?” Vin asked him. It took JD a moment to catch on to what he meant.
“The Baron’s not a mage... is he?” he asked.
“If he is, he’s kept it secret,” said Vin. “But what else would he do with a stag’s heart? Make soup?”
It only took a moment for JD to come upon the next terrifying question. “What does he want it for?”
“Hell if I know,” said Vin. “I ain’t no damn mage. I only know what the stories say about them, but none of those stories have a mage using a heart for anything nice.”
JD gulped and looked at Vin’s scared face. “What are we gonna do?”
He was startled to hear an unexpected voice behind him, saying, “Do about what?”
*************
It was highly amusing to see JD and his friend the tanner spin around like they’d heard an offer of free ale. Less amusing was the fact that Ezra was sure he’d overheard them discussing the Baron’s activities, and if he’d heard right, Vin had actually seen him cut out the heart of a stag. That wasn’t as bad as what Ezra had feared. When he’d realised that morning that Baron Creshaw had left the estate for some reason that he hadn’t revealed to anyone, Ezra had been worried that he was out collecting something a lot more sinister than an animal’s heart.
JD and the tanner were looking at him with identical expressions of terror.
“Uh... we were just...” JD looked over to the tanner, who blinked back witlessly.
“Just talkin’ about town stuff,” the tanner said. “Nothin’ as would interest m’Lord.”
“Really?” Ezra said doubtfully. “I could have sworn you mentioned something about Baron Creshaw harvesting certain animal organs.”
JD exchanged another glance with the tanner, who looked at him wide eyed and mouthed ‘run’. Ezra decided he needed to stop this nonsense before it went too far.
“Wait,” he said. “I’m not... if the Baron’s doing anything he shouldn’t be doing, I want to know about it. I’ve been looking for a way to stop him for months.”
JD and the tanner looked at him suspiciously. “Really?” JD asked. “How do we know that’s true?”
“Yeah,” the tanner drawled. “Prove it.”
Ezra rolled his eyes. “I can’t just prove it, I’ve spent most of that time trying to make sure there’s no way anyone could figure out what I’m doing.”
“That’s very convenient for you,” the tanner said.
Ezra glared at him. “Listen... you...”
“Vin.”
“Whatever. You realise that if the Baron is doing what we suspect, I may be the only person in this town who has the skills to stop him?”
“Why?” JD asked curiously. “Are you a mage, too, Lord Standish?”
“Not quite. I only completed part of the training, but that’s still more than either of you, so I’ll thank you for your cooperation.”
JD and Vin were still watching him, but Ezra’s thoughts were wandering as he thought about what he needed to do now. The conversation he’d overheard had confirmed his suspicions and suggested that he was running out of time. There was only a limited number of uses for the heart of a living animal. If the Baron was harvesting them, it meant Ezra couldn’t afford to wait around until he was completely prepared for every outcome. He needed to act now.
“Do you know where Baron Creshaw went, Vin?” Ezra asked.
“Nah,” said Vin. “I weren’t about to try to follow him, not after that.”
“A reasonable choice,” Ezra allowed. “I’m worried that he’s collecting items to cast a spell. Next time he might not stop at seeking deer hearts.” Vin and JD both nodded at the implication, looking solemn. “I’ve been readying my own magic, expecting that this might come to a fight, but what I really need is to understand better what Creshaw is planning to do.”
Again, Vin and JD nodded. Ezra said, “JD, do you think there’s any way you can get into the Baron’s private quarters, somehow?”
“Uh...” JD looked startled. “I’m not sure, my Lord. The Baron doesn’t let just anyone in there.”
“Yes, that is true.” Ezra was a little discouraged. “Well, what if... perhaps I can get in, if we wait until the Baron is elsewhere. You could keep watch for me.” He hadn’t dared to attempt such a thing on his own, but if he had a lookout, things might be different. “Would you?”
“Of course,” said JD at once. It made Ezra feel terribly guilty. JD obviously had no idea of the risks involved, if he agreed so readily. Ezra was taking advantage of him by asking his help. If he were a better man, he would send JD away.
“Okay,” he said instead. “Let’s not wait too long then.”
************
It took a couple of days before the opportunity arose. Ezra watched Creshaw’s every move, but he stayed annoyingly close to home. Ezra figured he was probably crafting something, using the stag’s heart he’d collected, and it drove him wild that he couldn’t do anything about it.
Finally, the Baron went out one morning, telling Ezra that he planned to ride to the lake, a trip which should take him at least two hours. It was the best news Ezra could have heard. As a precaution, he set off the signal he’d created to alert Vin that the Baron was leaving the estate. He’d made two identical three of diamonds cards, and given one to Vin. When he lit his own from a candle, Vin’s would burn up too, and then he would know to keep watch for the Baron in Four Corners. He hoped that Creshaw was doing as he’d said, and riding to the lake, but there was a chance he was actually planning to do someone harm. If that was the case, there might not be much Vin could do, but he’d agreed to keep watch over the town and try to get people out if it proved necessary.
Ezra summoned JD and left him lingering in the hallway just outside the Baron’s chambers with a broom, which was a flimsy excuse for his presence given that he worked in the stables, but it would have to do. Ezra nudged the door open and stepped inside, looking around nervously in case Creshaw had thought to lay a trap to protect his sanctuary.
As he moved around the room, however, nothing happened, and eventually Ezra concluded that the Baron hadn’t troubled to protect it beyond forbidding anyone to enter it. Arrogance.
Tables sat on both sides of the large room, covered with all sorts of things. One table held different herbs and plants. All mages used at least some herbs, and the Baron had collected a huge variety. Another table held different types of thread and yarn. A third held a number of small wood carvings.
All this acted as confirmation that Creshaw was a mage, and he was doing something with magic, but it didn’t prove that he was doing anything wrong. Ezra looked around the room for something more incriminating. And then, annoyed at himself for not thinking of it sooner, Ezra took out the deck of cards he’d brought with him. He’d cut and inked them himself. When he could, he even made the paper and ink himself, and the spells he could cast with those cards were the most powerful of all. He flicked through the deck and took out the seven of spades, drawing on his power to dispel any illusions in the room.
The back wall of the room wavered and disappeared, revealing an extra two feet of space in which another table sat. So this was why Creshaw hadn’t bothered to lay any traps or set a guard on the door. Ezra stepped quickly to the back wall and looked over the table. The wood was rough and stained. Several knives were arrayed on one side. On the other, a clay bowl sat which held what Ezra guessed had to be the stag’s heart, not that he was any sort of expert on animal organs. Now that he was closer, he could smell the decay. His nose wrinkled.
The other thing on the table was a staff, carved from oak with a large blue stone on the end. Ezra reached out to touch it, but paused with his fingertips inches away from the polished wood. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt a strong reluctance to touch the staff. Even holding his hand near it was difficult to bear. He withdrew his hand with a sense of relief, and took a step back.
He wasn’t sure what the staff was, but he could make an educated guess. Usually, magical items could be used once. Ezra’s cards worked like that; they disintegrated after being used, and then he had to make more. Making an item which could cast its spell again and again... that was a lot harder. Ezra was sure that he was looking at such an item. It wasn’t finished yet, he didn’t think. He wasn’t sure why he thought that; it was just a feeling, a vague hunch based on the way it felt to stand near the staff. He wasn’t sure what it was meant to do, either, but the way it made his skin prickle wasn’t promising.
Ezra wondered how he could find out more about the staff before he left the room. Was it a weapon? Was it just meant to cast the same spell again and again? And if so, what? He was still puzzling over his questions when he heard a cry from outside the room.
It sounded like JD, and Ezra’s heart leapt in his chest. He spun around, meaning to go check on JD, but the door opened as he turned, and Baron Creshaw stepped through it.
“What are you doing here?” the Baron snapped. Ezra gulped.
He’d prepared for the worst case scenario of Creshaw catching him snooping around. He’d put together protection spells, just simple ones, he hadn’t had time for better. He’d brought the deck and a half of cards that he’d finished, and carefully stacked them in preparation. He hadn’t brought his ring, wanting to save it for a confrontation he’d been hoping to put off, and right now he was regretting that. He’d been crafting it to attack Creshaw’s specific vulnerabilities, using a small diamond in a brass setting, and he’d spent a long time making it in secret. But he hadn’t wanted the Baron to know that he had it, and he hadn’t been expecting him to come back so soon.
“This is a very interesting room,” Ezra said, affecting an expression of complete innocence. It was not much use, the Baron would have to notice that the illusion along the back wall had been removed, but he could at least try to throw the other man off. Ezra quickly slipped a card out of his pocket, and used it to create an illusion.
It was his Key power. Every potential mage had one, the first magic they learned to wield without needing to be taught. He’d been able to create illusions since he was a child; only small ones, but he could cast them well and with next to no effort. He let the illusion form; a dozen heavily armed men stepped into the room behind the Baron, brandishing swords, and Creshaw spun to confront them.
Baron Creshaw directed a spell at the men who had entered the room, and it passed harmlessly through, the illusion disappearing. While he was distracted, Ezra slipped the deck of cards from his pocket and palmed the first five from the top. He knew what they were already; had stacked them so that the four fours were on top. He used a strong spell, hoping that he could end the fight before it started, before Baron Creshaw expected him to present a threat. But the Baron deflected his attack just in time, and returned the assault with a blast of his own power. Ezra’s protective spells absorbed the worst of it, but knocked him backwards. He dealt himself another five cards. A straight flush, five to nine of clubs. It took the Baron by surprise; he must not have expected Ezra to withstand his first attack. As Ezra used the cards, they crumbled into dust in his hands.
The Baron attacked again, and this time Ezra tried to dodge out of the way. He was only partly successful, and there was a painful burning sensation on his left leg, but he ignored it as he palmed his next hand. Two pairs, aces over eights, and he needed this one to stick. He saw the Baron make some kind of protection spell using a trinket that had been sitting on a side table. It blocked part of the spell, but Ezra was satisfied when a gash opened up across his brow. Desperately, he tried to pick up the next five cards. A full house, jacks and kings, and this one should finish him if he was quick enough...
But he was only just lifting his hand when the Baron looked at him and said, “I made that rug you’re standing on.”
Ezra tried to jump clear, but it was too late. The rug had a pattern of vines on it, and they sprang to life, winding around his legs and pulling him off balance. He tried to aim his spell at the Baron, but it missed and blasted a hole through the window instead. The vines pulled him down to the ground, wrapping around his hands so that he couldn’t use the cards any more.
The Baron stepped towards him, unwinding an ornate scarf from around his neck. “I made this as well,” he said, laying it over Ezra’s face. “I hope you like it.”
***************
Chris was pretty pissed off. He had been for a few days. He blamed Buck. He often blamed Buck for things, but this time he was pretty sure it was actually his fault. It was Buck who brought up Sarah and Adam. He usually avoided the subject. It was better that way.
It wasn’t as though he didn’t think of Sarah and Adam all the time, every single day. He did. That was what drove him to the drink. Remembering that he was responsible for ending their lives was impossible to bear without the alcohol dulling the agony of it. He was almost used to it now.
It was cruel of Buck, though, to dangle the idea in front of him that he wasn’t responsible after all. He’d refused to accept the truth, back when it had happened. He’d loved his wife and son with everything in him, how could he ever do anything to hurt them? Surely it was impossible. But he’d been so angry back then, at himself and the world, and every time his control over his temper slipped, his terrible power slipped free. He started fires without meaning to. Without even thinking about it. Just like he hadn’t meant to do it that night, and hadn’t thought about it. It had happened anyway, without any intention on his part. That hadn’t mattered.
Buck had said maybe it wasn’t his fault. But Chris had already made himself accept the truth.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t looked for someone to blame. Chris thought sometimes that the grief would be so much easier to bear if he could lay blame for it at someone else’s feet. All his rage instead turned inwards, and there was nothing productive he could do with that. Nothing except ending his miserable life, and sure, he’d considered it many times, but he’d made promises to Buck, and himself, and Sarah too.
Buck had said that going through something horrible could cause people to develop abilities. Give them magic, like what Chris had. He’d suggested that losing Sarah and Adam was what had caused his fire magic. Not the other way around. But that couldn’t be the case, because that meant there had to be someone else out there who had killed his family, and Chris had looked for them. He’d looked. They didn’t exist.
Or rather, they did exist, and Chris already knew who to blame, because it was him. He shouldn’t be trying to duck out of his culpability like that. Somehow, he’d gone out of the house that night, and let a fire light up behind him, not realising what had happened until it was too late. He hadn’t been angry, or anything. He’d been worried about his horse, but that came with running a farm. You couldn’t get all mad every time something was wrong with one of the animals, or you’d have no time to do anything else. Anyway, he hadn’t been with the horse when he’d set the fire off.
Maybe time had made the memory fade. He’d never managed to start a fire without realising it, not since that night. He could always feel when it happened, and anyway, he always knew it was coming because it only happened when he was angry. Except for that first night.
Buck had seemed to know something about it. Chris suddenly felt the need to talk to him.
**************
Since talking to Buck the day before and hearing his story about Chris and what had happened to his family, Josiah had gone around the town talking to other people and trying to find out what he could. It was more difficult, though; he trusted Buck to keep his head and hold his tongue, but he couldn’t say the same for some of the other people in Four Corners. As a result, he hadn’t achieved much, but then one afternoon he happened to run into Mary Travis and her son as they came out of the milliner’s.
Josiah stopped and said good day, of course, because he valued good manners. Mary returned his greeting, but clutched Billy’s hand and kept him close to her side.
Josiah had never really had much to do with Billy. He didn’t like being around people, since his father’s death, and Mary was very protective of him. Mary was one of the people he’d been meaning to approach, but he hadn’t known how.
“Can I carry that for you?” he asked, indicating the large bolt of cloth Mary held.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” she said. “That would be such a help.”
Josiah took the cloth and walked with Mary towards her home.
“Are you planning to do some sewing?” he asked, looking down at the cloth, which was a nice deep shade of blue.
“Yes, I’d like to make some new clothes,” she answered. “For me and Billy. I think it’s... time.” She smoothed one hand over her black skirt, and Josiah nodded.
“I’m sure you’re right,” he said gently. “What do you think, Billy?” he asked.
“My son doesn’t talk, Josiah,” said Mary, a note of warning in her voice, but Josiah kept his eyes on Billy’s face and was sure the child was trying to say something. He wanted to say something; Josiah could see it in his eyes, and as he watched, Billy opened his mouth as though to speak, but no sound came out.
“He’s trying to say something,” Josiah insisted.
Mary looked at her son. “He hasn’t spoken since the night Stephen was killed,” she said sadly. Again, Billy opened and closed his mouth, looking frustrated. “We’ve tried everything,” she added, stroking his hair down with her fingers.
“Perhaps not everything,” said Josiah, and he looked around. They had reached the front of Mary’s house, and he plucked a daisy from the garden, ignoring Mary’s slight huff of displeasure. A magic detection spell required barely any effort. He could probably cast it without any components, but it would work better with the flower, and so he crouched down next to Billy and said, “What is it you want to tell me?”
Again Billy tried to speak without success, and this time Josiah could see the spell that was stilling his voice. The flower withered in his hand, the petals dropped from it and Mary gasped. Josiah stood up again.
“Mary,” he said, “It’s magic that’s taken Billy’s speech from him. Will you let me undo the spell?”
************
Mary invited him inside to work his magic. This spell was a bit more involved than the detection spell. Josiah collected a few items from his home before starting; a small piece of carved wood and some of the herbs he grew in his garden. Since he’d left the city he’d mostly given up magic, but all mages grew herbs and the habit had been too hard to let go. His little wood puzzles, too; he didn’t really use them for spells any more, but he found them soothing to make and so he always kept a few around. Sometimes he gave them away as gifts, but he always made more.
With the herbs, he brewed a tea. “You’ll need to drink this,” he said to Billy. “All of it. As fast as you can. Wait for it to cool a bit more.”
Billy sniffed the tea and looked sceptical. “I know,” Josiah said. “It might not taste all that good, but it will help. We could add some honey, if there’s any to be had.”
Mary fetched the desired honey and Billy looked a little happier. He gulped the tea down and Josiah held his wood puzzle in his fingertips.
“Billy, hold the other side,” he said, guiding Billy’s hand towards the puzzle. “Put your fingertips here, and I want you to think about what you want to say. There’s something you’ve been needing to say for a long time, isn’t there? And you haven’t been able to? You need to say it now.”
Billy blinked up at him, his eyes watery, and opened his mouth. “It was Baron Creshaw,” he said, his voice rough. He looked startled at the sound, and a moment later began to cry. “It was him,” he sniffed. “That night. Me and Dad were here and it was just us, and he came to the door...” Billy trailed off, wiping the sleeve of his shirt across his face.
“Oh, my...” Mary whispered, sinking to sit down on the sofa. She put her arms out and Billy leaned into her, resting his head on her shoulder. Mary looked over the top of his head to Josiah, her face set.
“The Baron killed my husband,” she said, and Josiah confirmed with a nod. “And he put a spell on Billy, to take his voice away, stop him from talking about it.” Josiah nodded again, and Mary sighed shakily. “What are we going to do?” she asked. “We’ve got to stop him, somehow.”
************
Josiah was just leaving the house when he met Vin walking down the street. He grabbed Josiah’s arm as he walked through the gate, and said, “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why is that?” Josiah asked. He looked closer at Vin, noting his pale, tense expression. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s... a long story,” Vin said, shrugging. “And you probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“I might surprise you,” Josiah said, thinking of the many bizarre things he’d learned over the past few days.
Vin gave him a measuring look. “Me and JD and Lord Standish have a theory that Baron Creshaw is messing around with some kind of dark magic, and while JD and Standish snoop around his house looking for clues, I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on the town and getting people ready to run just in case the Baron turns up. Want to help?” He lifted his chin defiantly towards Josiah, as though inviting his disbelief.
Josiah mentally sorted through a dozen different responses, and finally said, “Okay.”
**************
Buck, true to his word, had gone back out to Chris’ farm each day since their argument. He hadn’t raised the subject of Sarah and Adam again; Chris hadn’t taken it all that well the first time. He’d tried to just be there and offer a supportive presence. Chris had mostly just ignored him.
So it was a surprise to Buck when Chris turned up at the inn, with steady hands and a clear gaze. Buck had already dropped by Chris’ home that day, and he’d seemed well enough then, but Buck hadn’t stuck around for all that long. Chris dropped into a chair across the table from Buck and looked down at his hands.
“Why would someone do that?” Chris asked. “What possible reason could anyone have, for...?” He trailed off, and Buck realised that Chris had just launched into the middle of a conversation he hadn’t realised they were having.
“I’m not sure, exactly,” he answered, trying to catch up. “It was Josiah who told me about... what we talked about. He had some ideas, but this might not be the best place to talk about it.”
Chris took that in, nodding silently. “Should we-” he began, but they were interrupted when Josiah himself walked into the common room.
“Buck,” he said. “Chris. I was hoping to find you here.”
*****************
Chris had forgotten what it used to feel like, believing - knowing - that the person who killed his family was out there, somewhere, avoiding justice, punishment, revenge. When Josiah explained his theory, it came rushing back to him. And it made him angry. So angry.
It was fortunate that they had thought to leave the inn first. That Josiah had taken them somewhere away from the town so that they could all share what they knew. When the flames got free of Chris’ control, they harmlessly incinerated a tree, instead of a building where people were present. Chris was grateful for that.
But he was still angry.
“I’ll kill him,” he growled. “I’ll go right now...”
“You can’t do that,” Josiah said. Chris all but snarled at him, but the other man didn’t back down, and Buck and Vin stood with him.
“You can’t beat him by yourself,” Vin said. “If you really want to avenge Sarah and Adam, if you really want to, you’ll work with us, and wait until we’ve worked out what to do. Otherwise, you’ll just end up another of his victims.”
Chris hated Vin a little bit, for being right. Damn him.
**************
By the next morning, when there was still no sign of Lord Standish and JD, they had to accept that something had gone wrong. Feeling less than hopeful about their chances, they gathered together to prepare to travel to the estate and see what they could find out.
“The truth is, I was never a very powerful mage,” Josiah explained as he did something complicated with a small wooden box. “So I taught myself to be strong in other ways. To create spells within spells, which would do things that were unpredictable.”
“What does this one do?” Nathan asked.
“It’s a distraction spell. It will convince Creshaw that everything’s okay, and that whatever he’s currently doing is hugely important. If he starts to think that he needs to leave and do something else, the spell will divert his attention, and it will keep distracting him so that he doesn’t leave.”
“That’s pretty clever,” said Nathan. “You’ve made it so that, even if the Baron starts to think he’s been affected by magic, he won’t be able to break free of it?”
“That’s the idea,” Josiah agreed. “A more powerful spell might be able to hurt him, but not prevent him from retaliating. If this works like it should, we’ll be able to get in and out without him knowing about it until we’re gone.”
“Sounds good to me. But what about the people he’s got working for him?”
“Well, that’s where the rest of you come in,” Josiah admitted. He looked across the room to where Vin was fletching arrows, Buck was cleaning his sword, and Chris was preparing his crossbow. “This spell,” he added, holding up a different box made of wooden parts fitted together, “should keep everyone out of the Baron’s chambers. We have to make sure that he’s already in the room when we go in, and that he’s alone. That’s important, because the first spell won’t be strong enough to hold more than one mind, or to keep its hold if someone else directly tells the Baron something’s wrong. We’ve got to keep his followers away. But other than that, I don’t think I’ll be much help.”
“Okay,” said Nathan. “We can probably manage them.” He wished JD was still around. He might have an idea of who they needed to worry about.
A few minutes later Josiah announced that he was ready, and wrapped his boxes carefully before they set out from Four Corners.
“When did you begin training as a mage?” Nathan asked as they rode.
“A long time ago,” Josiah answered, his face closing off. Nathan wasn’t sure what he was thinking about, but the other man’s expression didn’t welcome questions.
“Was it hard? To learn?” Nathan wondered, watching Josiah’s face and hoping that he wasn’t stumbling onto a topic Josiah didn’t want to talk about.
To his relief, Josiah considered the question and seemed more thoughtful now, rather than cold. “Learning magic is far easier than most people realise,” he said. “Mages keep that knowledge quiet, deliberately. It suits them for people to believe that magic is near impossible to learn, and that people who don’t get the training are essentially powerless, only good for party tricks. It’s part of the reason I left that life behind.”
Nathan looked at Josiah questioningly. Josiah shook his head. “So much corruption, hidden behind this facade of superiority,” he explained sadly. “I’m glad I came here. This is a good place. Well, with the obvious exception.”
“Right,” Nathan agreed. “I’m glad I came here too.”
“Why did you come here?” Josiah asked, because apparently that was a logical continuation of the discussion they’d been having. “You’re a long way from home.”
“I am,” said Nathan. “I grew up in this little village, and I think I would have stayed there forever.” He got a little lost in the memory. It was a long time since he’d let himself think about his childhood. “The village got attacked. They killed nearly everyone. I... hid.” He didn’t look at Josiah as he said that, remembering how he’d crawled into a tiny, hidden corner and hadn’t moved for hours. “They killed my brother, but my two sisters survived. They were hurt, though. Hurt bad.” He paused for a second as the memory became overwhelming, appreciating Josiah’s attentive silence. “I tried to help them, but they were both so badly off... My eldest sister died.” He blinked hard at that and cut himself off from saying anything more.
“I’m sorry, Nathan,” said Josiah. “That’s a terrible thing to go through. It wasn’t your fault, though,” he added. “You did everything you could.”
Nathan nodded, because there was nothing else he could do. Josiah didn’t know that he’d seen Kayla and Nari, and known straight away that they both needed immediate help which he could only give to one of them. Josiah didn’t know that he hadn’t hesitated over the decision, that he’d accepted the necessity of choosing which sister to save. Josiah had never had to see the acceptance in Nari’s eyes as he let her die.
It was after that that he’d found himself able to do things that weren’t normal. People who had illnesses he shouldn’t have been able to cure, but did. He’d nearly killed himself before he learned how to control it, accepted that he needed to pace himself. He’d come to Four Corners because he was never able to see someone he could save, and let them go, no matter the cost to himself. In a city, there were so many people, so many who needed help they couldn’t find anywhere else. In Four Corners, there weren’t so many people that he had to choose who to heal. He didn’t want to ever make such a choice again.
Nathan was sombre the rest of the way to the Baron’s estate, and when they finally arrived they split up to search for Lord Standish and JD. Nathan, along with Chris and Buck, crept around the back of the house. There were people coming and going, servants with baskets of vegetables and freshly butchered meat. Nathan watched but doubted they would be able to sneak inside. There weren’t so many people that three strangers would pass unnoticed.
“What now, Buck?” Chris asked.
“Just wait, Chris, and don’t be such a worry wart.”
“I’m not, but you said you could get us inside... I don’t really see how this is going to work.”
“Would you have a little faith? I don’t know why I... there she is!”
“Huh?” Nathan asked as Buck set off quickly across the grounds, heading towards a door where a young woman had appeared.
Chris sighed heavily. “We’d better follow him,” he said, “Or there’s no knowing what he’ll do.”
They crossed the gardens to where Buck stood, talking to the young woman wearing the servant’s uniform. “It brightens my day to see you,” he was saying as they arrived. “It’s been far too long, fair maiden, and I have missed you terribly.”
The object of Buck’s attention giggled and blushed at his compliments.
“These are my friends, Nathan and Chris,” Buck said. “Darlin’, I wonder if we could come inside? We’ve come a long way, and I think my friends would like to get out of the sun.”
“I really shouldn’t,” said the girl, and Buck turned a sad expression on her. “But I’m sure it will be alright, if it’s just for a few minutes.”
“You’re a gem, Maggie,” Buck grinned, and they followed her inside.
Once within the walls, Maggie led them to the kitchen, an enormous and stifling room which smelled of roasting meat. Nathan looked around, and said from the corner of his mouth, “Now what?”
“You and Chris should slip out and see if you can find anything. I’ll stay here and distract Maggie.”
“Right,” Nathan snickered. “Sounds good to you, I’m sure.”
He went to the other side of the room, trying to duck down and be inconspicuous until he realised that the best way to go unnoticed was to act like he was meant to be there. He straightened up and walked more quickly, with Chris at his side.
They went up and down the halls a few times without seeing anything noteworthy, until they reached one corridor which had several armed men standing around. Nathan made to back out quickly, but they had already noticed him by then and did not look welcoming.
“Chris,” Nathan muttered, “Got your crossbow?”
“Of course,” Chris answered, pulling it out. Nathan drew his sword and the guards closed in.
It was a fast and dirty fight, Nathan worried that at any moment someone else would hear the scuffle and come help their attackers. He tried to defeat the guards as quickly as possible, but it took longer than he would have liked. Finally, once they were disarmed and tied up in an empty room, Nathan and Chris raced back to the room they had been guarding and opened it with the keys one of the guards had been carrying.
The door swung open, and Nathan gasped. JD was inside, slumped on the floor, his face a bruised and bloody mess.
Nathan raced to his side, calling his name. JD stirred and blinked at him. “Nathan?” he murmured, his voice slurred.
Nathan put his arms to JD’s shoulders, trying to figure out how badly he was hurt. “Can you walk?” he asked, noting with relief that there were no broken bones or internal bleeding.
“Hurts,” JD whispered.
“I know,” said Nathan. “Come on. We need to get you out of here. I’ll fix you up, but we’ve got to get away from here first.”
Part Three
Part Four