The Archmage: Chapter Forty-Six

The bottom fell out of my stomach and I thought I was about to be sick. 

“Aldvarri’s dead, isn’t he?” I whispered, and Draven shot me an annoyed look. 

“No, your defenses have repelled everything thus far, and he remains quite safe.” 

I took a rattling breath of relief at that, and Osheen spoke up. 

“Personal. If it’s not Aldvarri, then… who?” 

“Nine noble estates inexplicably fell apart last night,” Draven said. “Almost none of them had staff show up today, and had their onsite staff leave in the middle of the night, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Fractional cracks in marble that had never been seen before. Termites eating through support beams. Cold that damaged critical structure in exactly the right places to bring the house down. There are more than two hundred dead, eighty of whom are nobles. Fifteen of those nobles were under the age of twelve.” 

Osheen and I traded a look, and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to center myself. 

“Tara,” I said, and Draven nodded. Osheen let out a soft curse. 

“It has to be her,” Osheen said. “When she said she was making her own preparations…” 

“We always knew people would die,” I said. “But… I thought after we’d talked to Tara last year, she had decided that the risk to innocent people wasn’t worth it.” 

“Well, it appears she’s changed her mind,” Draven said. “You’re also likely going to be the one who takes the heat for this, given what happened.” 

I pressed my lips together, but Osheen spoke. 

“What about the politically bad news?”

“The council is destroyed,” Draven said. “Magically, as well as politically.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning. 

“The council wasn’t just a group of archmages,” Draven said. “We were more than that. We were bound by oaths and magic that was supported through ancient magic that lay under the king’s castle.”

He gave me a wan smile. 

“Even I didn’t expect this outcome. But… When you spread the knowledge, it shattered the oaths holding us in place, and the mass disruption of ambient aura broke apart the ritual magic that bound us. Even the compacts that we’d once sworn to one another have shattered, with the underlaying supports gone.”

“What does that even mean?” Osheen asked. “If the oaths are broken and the council is gone… Who are we meeting?” 

“Eira Talik, Zachary Dormer, Serena Chantal, and Chris Heenling” Draven said. “Those are the only ones who were willing to show up.”

“That means Hastings, Elide, Byron, and Castor have all decided that peace isn’t worth pursuing,” Osheen said bitterly. “At least if Serena Chantal is there, that means we’re not likely to have to deal with an army.” 

“They’re gathering their families and forces,” Draven said. “We might not be dealing with an army, but I expect that they’ll be forcibly ascending as many people as possible. Possibly as many as fifteen archmages. I estimate somewhere in the vein of twelve, though. 

“Arguably more importantly, we’re looking at several hundred noble mages,” Osheen said.

“No,” Draven said, stopping and opening a portal that would lead near his home. “That’s one advantage we have on our side. With our culture focused so heavily on archmages, if we can overcome theirs, then we’ve won. There will still be pockets of resistance, but more and more will be willing to work with us.” 

“I hope so,” I said, then reached down and took Osheen’s hand. 

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“Are you?” he responded. 

“No,” I said. 

“Me neither,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

I expected to be swamped with people the moment we stepped through the portal, but instead, we emerged in a forested area. Draven took to the air using some sort of boon, Osheen spread his wings, and I activated my cloak, floating up into the air. We skimmed over the tops of trees, and landed outside of Draven’s manor. 

“Our first appointment will be in sitting room b,” Draven informed us as we landed and headed inside. He glanced over us, then shook his head. “You’re going to need to dress up a little bit for this. At least, Osheen will. Evan, with the stunt you pulled, the beggar archmage who’s armed to the teeth suits you. Osheen, you’ll find a dressing room with clothing prepared. Join us when you’re presentable.” 

“I’d prefer to enter with Osheen,” I said, but Osheen shook his head. 

“It’s best if you go ahead of me. Especially since we’re separating your message from my own ascension.” 

I frowned, but reluctantly agreed, giving him a quick kiss before following Draven deeper into the complex. 

For all that I’d worked with Draven, I’d never really spent time inside his manor, and the impression I got was… Strange.

The entire thing was opulent, there was no doubt about it. Massive stained glass windows showed off intensely skilled artisanship. Polished carvings and statues with golden filigree sat in neatly manicured rows alongside tapestries, framed tablets from all throughout Paerús’ history, and paintings of noted historic figures, often with Draven standing near them. 

But it was also… Eerie.

There was a degree of lifelessness that I couldn’t place. There was too much perfection in the placement of each item, there was no dust, but also there were no marks or smudges from human fingers. There was no life at all, not even flowers. The candelabras and chandeliers had completely unlit candles, suggesting that when the sun went down, there was no need to light them. 

It was strange, and as we headed to the sitting room, I spotted a strange painting. It was clearly of faerie make, though I didn’t know how I knew that – perhaps some strange resonance with my own faerie aura? 

It was a painting of me, battling the Spring Queen. My ward was dissolving around me, and I held a shimmering silver blade aloft, crackling with all of the spring lightning. A look of victory and power was on my face, and a look of abject terror in the eyes of the Spring Queen. 

“That’s not a very good painting,” I said. “I didn’t look nearly so confident. I was desperately pinning my hopes on getting the timing of the spell right.” 

“It’s not a painting meant for you,” Draven said. “It’s meant for our guests.” 

At that, he opened the large double doors and strolled in, suittails fluttering. I strode in a moment later, feeling like I was going to be sick, and examined the room. 

Sarai’s mother, Serena Chantal, was the first one to stand out to me. She lounged on a large couch with golden filigree, dark mahogany wood, and velvet cushions, and the pebbles of hyper-compressed stone floated around her head like they always did. She locked her dark eyes with me the moment I stepped in, assessing me. Her eyes went to the knives at my hip, the staff, gauntlet, and cloak, and she gave me a respectful nod. 

Zachary Dormer was the next one to stand out to me.  I’d only ever seen his tree avatar before, but in the flesh, he seemed far softer. The middle aged, paunchy, bald man radiated a kindness and placidity that made me instantly understand why the archmages seemed to consider him weak. He smiled genially at me, and I actually thought I saw a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. 

After Dormer, I glanced at Eira Talik. I’d seen the tall satyr woman several times before, but she always maintained a powerful and regal air, despite not being from the nobility, and technically being a senator. She gave me a sharp, deliberate incline of her head as I entered, then gestured at a chair for me.

Chris Heenling was the last one I examined. He did resemble his son, George, with dirty blonde hair, shorn short. His clothes were enchanted, covered in all sorts of sprawling runework in a style that had a little more flair for the dramatic than I liked, but was overall mostly recognizable. Most interestingly, his reputation as a master of wards was clearly earned, because most of the enchantments seemed to merely enable wards that he had circling around him. The defenses were impressive, maybe even a match for my own. 

As I took a seat, Chris was the first one to speak. 

“You’re the infamous Evander Tailor, then?” he asked. “I must admit, it’s a pleasure to be able to finally meet you. I was most disappointed to be unable to meet you during the last convening of a full council.” 

He rose and strode over to me, extending a hand. I rose and shook his hand warily. We’d never counted on the Heenlings to support us after I revealed the truth, and the fact that he was here at all was frankly astonishing to me. I supposed I should take it as a good sign.

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” I said, wandering over to shake hands with the others one by one, before returning to my seat. 

“You know,” Serena said. “I seem to recall when we first met, we discussed killing you for your impetuousness at killing King Thomas. I think another discussion like that now, while tempting, would be fruitless. You are not a child any longer, you are an archmage in your own right.” 

A sour look came over Chris’ face, but he gave a nod of agreement.

“I don’t think you should be killed,” Chris said. “At this point, that would turn you into a martyr, and would incite open revolution. But I’m not interested in playing along, either. I want to ensure that myself and my family are able to hold onto our spots of power.” 

“I initially allied with them for a similar reason,” Draven said. 

“I would propose fixed seats in a new sena–” Chris started, but I cut him off.

“No,” I said, and Chris and Draven both paused, giving me strange looks. 

“This is exactly what I’m trying to prevent,” I continued. “Look at us. Sitting around, deciding what the fate of the country will be. Part of why I revealed the truth was to allow the people a form of self governance.” 

I turned to fix Chris with a level gaze. 

“Your old noble friends are going to gather their forces and make a move to try and subdue me,” I said. “They’re going to try and then use military might to enforce their will back onto the people, crushing protests with raw strength. I know that you want to keep your position, but the way to do that isn’t by making decisions from secret meetings in the depths of Luis Manor. I’m willing to offer you the same deal I offered Draven. Help us, and you can keep your wealth and privilege, keep what you’ve built up. But I won’t be allowing you all to keep controlling the government from the shadows.” 

“Well said,” Zachary Dormer commented, smiling and leaning forward. “I think we need to allow the people to lead. We should immediately dissolve the nobility and parliament, suspending everything but the senate for now.” 

“How is that any different,” Chris protested, pointing at Zachary. “He’s proposing controlling the government as well.” 

“No,” Eira said. “The senate is elected by the people. It just doesn’t have power. By disbanding it, we would be putting the power in their hands, at least mostly.” 

“And you think that will quiet the rioting?” Serena demanded. “I’m half of the mind to impose martial law to stop that. Only reason I haven’t is because it would make things worse, not better.” 

The group continued to bicker back and forth, and I actually hung back. It was like I’d said before, I didn’t want to enable the creation of a new shadow government. 

When the door clicked, however, I let a feral smile spread over my face. 

“Ah,” Draven said. “That must be the last Archmage who responded to my call. It’s my pleasure to introduce Osheen Tailor.”