Page 34 of An Archer's Redemption

Kelså tilted her head to the side. “His magic was not taken. He was cut off from the flow of magic.”

“That’s different how?”

She opened her mouth to answer, then paused. “It matters little. He has no access to magic. What else?”

“Atikus is weak now. You said his spirit felt drained, something like that. Oh, you said you could sense his spirit. Can you sense everyone?”

“Hardly.” She snorted. “Atikus is . . . unique. I have known him a very long time.”

“Could you sense me?” the voice of a small boy asked.

“I could sense you without magic’s aid. I am your mother.” Her hand reached out and cupped my cheek. “But, yes, I could sense your spirit. You are also uniquely connected to the currents, to magic itself.”

I eyed her a moment, hoping for more. When she remained silent, I moved on. “All right, that’s all I can think of. Is there anything else you haven’t told me that we need to add to our list?”

“The currents are disturbed.”

“How so? More than before?”

She nodded. “They normally feel like a lazy river, peaceful and drifting. Some time ago, they began to move swiftly and thrash about, but only at times. Now, they feel like a river full of rapids, frothing and angry.”

“Great. An angry river of magic. That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“Nothing has terrified me so, not since Irina’s return, and not for a thousand years before that.”

We drank our wine and stared over the mountain’s ledge in silence. It felt like we struggled to fit some massive puzzle together but were missing half of the pieces. Seeing the image felt impossible.

Atikus’s broad smile and wispy brows filled my mind. The old Mage was one of the kindest men I’d ever known. With his Gift of Memory, he was also more knowledgeable than most any man alive.

“Why attack Atikus?” I asked.

“What?” Kelså’s brow rose.

“Atikus. Why him? What makes him special?”

Kelså thought a moment. “He is powerful. His connection to the currents is strong. He has more knowledge than most Mages. He is the Arch Mage. It could be any of those things—or none of them.”

“What about his Gift? His memory?”

“What about it? It’s a passive ability. He cannot—”

“His mind is the greatest library the world may ever possess. Think about what he has seen, what he has studied, what heknows.”

“All right. That is a good point. Where are you going with this?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just something to add to our list. But it feels important somehow.”

We fell into another long silence as I mulled over what I recalled of Atikus and his Gift. I was onto something. I could feel it, but it was just out of reach. How could one so knowledgeable, so long-lived, have his tether to the currents cut like some flimsy ribbon?

When the sun faded over the horizon, we returned to the kitchen for dinner. Unlike breakfast, our evening meal was somber. I helped Kelså prepare a meal of cold cuts, cheese, and bread. Neither of us had uttered a word since coming inside, and fewer words were spoken throughout the meal. Kelså was nearly finished with her last bite when she stopped chewing and gripped my arm.

I looked up, startled. “What? What’s wrong now?”

She gulped down the cheese and swallowed a sip of wine. “I do not know why I did not think of this earlier. We need to go back to the Well and speak with an old friend. She may be able to help us puzzle some of this out. Come with me.”

Kelså puffed through labored breaths as we entered the chamber of the Well of Magic.

I had been in this cavern many times since returning to my mother, but the place still filled me with awe. Despite the urgency of our task, the little boy inside me couldn’t resist bending down to trace a finger and watch as the mist raced to catch up.

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