Page 20 of An Archer's Redemption

“I, Keeper of Magic, bring greetings and heartfelt wishes from the Phoenix herself.”

An excited murmur rose from the Mages behind us at the woman’s invocation of magic’s most cherished symbol—and the savior of Saltstone’s people. “For two hundred twenty-one years, Velius Quin led this guild with strength, honor, and integrity. His was a life of service and duty. His loss will be felt for generations.”

I peered out of the side of one eye to find Atikus’s eyes watering at the eulogy of his former leader and longtime friend.

“Now is the time for new beginnings.” The woman’s voice brightened. “Your beloved city rises from the ashes. Your people’s spirit is renewed. So, too, must our guild. Tonight, we choose a new Arch Mage, and in doing so, take our first step into the future.”

The Keeper made eye contact with the Mages closest to the steps, causing more than a few to retreat from her penetrating gaze.

“For over twelve hundred years, Arch Mages have been selected from among those bearing two or more bands of gold. To our knowledge, only three alive today carry this distinction: Mage Atikus Dani of Melucia, High Chancellor Danai Thorn of the Kingdom of Spires, and Declan Rea, the Heir of Magic and son of the Isle of Rea Utu.” One corner of her mouth quirked as she spoke Declan’s name. “High Chancellor Thorn fled the battlefield and has not been seen since. Declan Rea’s path leads elsewhere. Mage Dani stands before you.”

The Keeper raised one palm, and a ball of flame burst into existence. “Each Mage must now bond his or her vote with magic itself. If you support Mage Dani’s ascension, cast your flame upward.”

Atikus didn’t turn to watch, but I couldn’t help myself. My jaw dropped as every Mage around us raised their hands above their heads and released their flames into the night sky. No longer were there hundreds of blazing stars but one massive beacon that shimmered and sparked.

When all were aloft, the Keeper raised her own flame to join the others.

Her flame struck; the mass of magic flared and transformed into a brilliant outline of a Phoenix as tall as the tower itself. Its head reared toward the sky, and it released a cacophonous roar. It belched a stream of magical flame, then dove and disappeared into the vein of raw power that coursed below the tower’s base.

The Keeper intoned, “Arch Mage Atikus Dani, turn and face your guild.”

When Atikus turned, he must have noticed the dumbstruck expression plastered across my face, as he gave me a quick wink.

The Keeper raised her palm again. Flame leaped from her hand onto Atikus’s chest. When it died away, a golden Phoenix emblazoned across his robe shone as brightly as any sun. The gold of the Phoenix flowed like the stripes on his collar and cuffs,and every Mage, including the three ancients who presided, dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

Atikus, never one for ceremony—and ever quick with a quip—turned and whispered, “Give it to us Mages; we know how to put on a good show.”

Chapter 7

Jess

Istumbled through the mirror and sprawled across the floor of the dimly lit catacombs. I tried to ease my fall but slipped and cracked my head against the stone. My heart pounded, and I struggled to gather my senses and clear my vision.

Keelan hadn’t followed. Neither had Atikus.

I was alone.

As I caught my breath, I realized I was bracing my weight against a large slab of well-polished marble. A quick glance at the golden placard noted it as my great-great-grandfather’s sarcophagus. I yanked my hand away and clutched it to my chest while my eyes darted about the room.

A mirror, the twin of the one I had fallen through back in the cave, loomed behind like some specter ready to pounce. When we saw the crypt from the other side, Atikus had suspected the pieces might be portals. My unintentional trip confirmed that theory, but, as I stared at the mirror on the Fontaine end of the journey, I saw only reflective glass.

“Why can I not see Atikus and Keelan in the cave?” I wondered, my words echoing in the lonely chamber.

The crypt felt familiar, but I had never liked the place. Its creepy magical torches cast far too many dancing shadows across the marble prisons of the dead. My father brought me down here when he wanted to impart some deep lesson about the weight of the Crown and our royal lineage. I knew I should revere the sacred ground, but it was hard to get past the idea of walking through rooms full of dead kings and queens who were likely more dust than flesh. To calm me, my father would point out the place where he would one day rest, then where I would follow. That only made my skin crawl more. What child wanted to think about where they would be interred?

I rose and brushed off my shirt and trousers, then took a tentative step. The flickering flames made no sound, released no smoke. In the stillness of the chamber, my thoughts boomed like thunder in my head.

Keelan tried to kill me.

I remembered the crazed look in his eyes as he held me with his blade plunging toward my throat. I knew that man was not the noble Guardsman I had come to know. Someone—something—had taken him over, commanded his actions. Still, knowing that truth could not douse the fear coursing through my veins. I tried replaying the moments before I Traveled to the crypt, tried making sense of what had happened.

I’d been sleeping.

Then Keelan loomed over me with wild eyes and a knife.

He had been talking to himself—or wrestling with himself—I could not tell. In the end, Atikus tried to pull the hulking man off of me but had been slammed into a wall for his effort. I hoped the kind old Mage was all right.

I had barely squeezed out of Keelan’s grasp before he lunged across the room and pinned me against the shelving, his razor-sharp knifepoint quivering inches away. I could still see the torchlight glinting off his silver blade.

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