Magician In Exile (Power of Poses Book 2) Read online

  Magician In Exile

  Power of Poses

  Book Two

  By

  Guy Antibes

  Map of Pestle and Cokasan

  For Characters, Locations and Countries click here

  Magician in Exile

  Chapter One

  ~

  The wind didn’t instantly catch in the hastily furled sails as the rebel pursuer began to bear down on Misson Dalistro’s ship. Trak Bluntwithe, the young magician, threw a massive lightning bolt into the prow of the approaching vessel. Valanna looked towards the destruction wrought by Trak’s blast and assumed the pose to generate wind and spoke the power word. The wind suddenly filled the sails and the ship lurched forward.

  She took a step to steady herself and turned to look at the wreckage behind them, only to see Trak fall over the stern from the jerk forward.

  “No!” She ran back and looked over the railing. Tears filled her eyes while she scanned the empty waters. The ship continued to speed forward, leaving the spot where the young man had hurtled into the Glazia River.

  Captain Glasanda joined her at the stern. “We can’t turn back, look at the shore. Assume the wind pose again!”

  Magicians and the Ozitzian rebels began to poke through the tall trees lining the river. “There he is!” The captain now pointed in the middle of the river, where Trak emerged gasping and began to struggle towards the shore.

  Valanna raised her arms and waved at him. “We must save him!” She wanted to jump into the river and help him, but she never had mastered the art of swimming and could only stand in shock, as the ship caught the current and followed the curving channel while Trak was lost from sight.

  Misson Dalistro, her tutor and a spy for the Santasian Council, came up to her and put his arm around her shoulder. The concern that he felt only made her feel worse. Her magic had pushed Trak into the river at a time when he must have lost all of his strength disabling the oncoming ship. She put her hands to her face and wept. “It’s all my fault!”

  Her mind became numb with grief. With all the magicians on the shore, the Espozian Magicians Guild had to have captured Trak. How would he cope? She didn’t know, but the fact that she had caused the lurch that had driven him overboard seared her with guilt.

  “My dear, Trak Bluntwithe came to save you, which he successfully accomplished. Without him we would be at the mercy of the rebels,” Garono Dalistro, Misson’s father and head of the now-exiled Santasian Council, said. “We can’t go back for him, but the boy has more resources than any of us. Have faith in him.”

  “But he would be here at my side,” Valanna put her hand to her mouth. She didn’t want them to know how much she regarded Trak and now they would know.

  “So you are more than friends?” Misson said with a grin. “It is probably what drove him to come to Espozia to save you.”

  “I don’t really care about his motivations, I am glad you are both on this ship heading out of Espozia,” Garono said. “We will put in at Nikia and head to Mozira, and then begin our campaign to recapture our capital city. Espozia will be back under our control soon enough,” He patted Valanna’s shoulder. “We will then have magicians enough to save young Bluntwithe.”

  “Perhaps we can get the Colcanans to help. Prince Asem and Kulara can use their magic, if we can find them,” Valanna said.

  The two Dalistros paused. The father looked at the son and Valanna could see they didn’t think much of that idea. She sighed. Valanna would have to wait to get back to shore before she could do anything to help Trak. She looked back towards Espozia, seeing tendrils of smoke rising in the sky far behind them.

  ~

  Prince Asem of the Warishian ruling tribe, the Ferezan, paced in the house that the Board of Deans of the Bitrium College of Magicians had lent them while Trak learned more magic under the tutelage of Honor Fidelia and Strength Nomia. “We need to leave Bitrium,” he said to his second, and most beloved wife, Kulara.

  “And where will we go? Warish? Now that the late Prince Nez has attempted to assassinate his father, will King Marom hold you responsible? Has our planned excursion to Espozia turned into exile?”

  Kulara asked the right question at the end, for Asem didn’t know his status in King Marom’s court. He would have to send a letter to the king asking for further instructions. After Trak’s execution had been aborted with the assistance of Strength Nomia, both of them had disappeared from Bitrium, eliminating Asem’s reason for leaving Warish.

  “We also have Valanna to worry about,” Asem said. “Now that the Bluntwithe boy is out of the picture, perhaps we should find out what is happening in Santasia.”

  Someone knocked on the door of the modest house with its garden and magician practice maze. Asem opened it to Honor Fidelia. She looked as upset as when she came to tell him about Trak’s death sentence a few days ago.

  “There is civil war in Santasia. The rebels have taken over Espozia with assistance of the Magicians Guild. Valanna is in danger and who knows where Trak is in all of this?”

  Asem helped the distraught woman to a chair in their sitting room. Kulara quickly joined them.

  “We were just talking about that,” Kulara said. “Perhaps we should see if there is some way we could help Valanna. She would be in the middle of any danger.”

  Honor shook her head. “She barely escaped.” She waved away any questions. “Don’t ask me how I know, but Trak saved Misson Dalistro and Garono, his father and Valanna. She is heading on a Dalistro ship to Nikia, Santasia’s most southern port.” Not asking meant the Colcanans had a linked pair in a position to know what was going on in Santasia’s capital city or even on the ship to Nikia. How Asem wished that the Ferezan possessed such a spell.

  “I know where Nikia is,” Asem said. “Then Trak and Valanna are heading out of trouble.”

  The look in Honor’s eyes disputed his statement. “Trak has been retaken by the Magicians Guild. He’s in as much danger in Santasia as he is in Colcan.”

  “Or Pestle, or Warish,” Kulara said.

  Asem gave his wife a warning look since he didn’t know how much danger Trak would face in Warish now that Nez had lost his life. He wished he could take Trak along with him, but the boy would never switch his allegiance to King Marom.

  “A magician without a country, in exile. It’s all my fault,” Honor said. She put her hand to her mouth and leaned back in her chair.

  Asem hadn’t ever expected to see tears coming from that woman’s eyes. “What’s done is done,” he said. Kulara glared at him. They had argued about the importance of the past before. Evidently women seemed to hold on to previous events a little more tightly than men did. Asem didn’t mention matters of the heart. He had enough scars in the love life of his young manhood that still bothered him from time to time. “We will go to Nikia or Mozira. I am on my own, now that Trak is captured again. We can return to Warish at any time.” He wouldn’t tell Honor about their possible peril in his home country. “Or we can work with Santasians, loyal to the council, to retrieve Trak, if he’s still alive.”

  “Or if his mind is still intact,” Kulara said.

  Honor looked away from them. “Leaving might not be possible. The Board has voted to put you under house arrest.”

  Asem jumped to his feet. “Is that why you are here?”

  Honor pursed her lips. The tension seemed to wipe away her emotions, and Asem had always felt the woman had few enough emotions as it was.

  “Yes! I am here to get you out of Bitrium,” she said. “I’m leaving to atone for my mistake. I should have told Trak that his demonstration of power in the quarry should have been done in secret.”

&
nbsp; After sitting back down, Asem thought for a moment. “I don’t want to lose my connection with Berin, but as a member of the Board of Deans, if he voted to restrain us, he must know me well enough that I won’t accept it.”

  “That is why he intends to put you back in the visitors’ floor of his tower. It is ideal for holding you without restraint. If we move quickly, we can escape from Bitrium and flee to Santasia.”

  “From the pot to the kettle,” Kulara said.

  Asem nodded in agreement. “I had always thought Bitrium to be the most rational city in the world, if somewhat deficient in its cuisine. I am disappointed to find it is not so.” He shook his head. “We don’t have much to pack. What do you suggest we do?”

  “Leave by the south gate immediately. Rasia will meet you with horses and take you to a camp northwest of the city. I will join you tomorrow morning. Don’t worry about provisions. Worrying, at this point, is my job.”

  Asem couldn’t resist a smile. “I like a lady with a plan.” He winced as he saw Kulara’s face. He didn’t know what they would face, but if they were able to retrieve Valanna, perhaps Kulara and he could find a safe harbor somewhere in the world, if he couldn’t return home to Warish.

  ~

  True to Honor’s words, Asem and Kulara, wearing the dreary, dark gray cloaks of Bitrium magicians, found their way out of the city. Within a mile or so, Rasia sat at the side of the road in the lightly dappled shade of a newly-leaved tree. Asem noticed three mounts hobbled not far away, munching on the new spring grass.

  She brushed off the dust and approached them. “I see you have escaped.”

  “Not much of an escape,” Kulara said. “With these things,” she plucked the dowdy cloak, “no one noticed. Were we really in peril, or is this some kind of trick to get us to leave Bitrium?”

  Rasia shook her head. “Honor told you no joke. I would imagine that the pursuit is just getting underway.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Two

  ~

  As soon as Borega of the Magicians Guild spoke the power word of the Magicians Guild Absorption spell, the other magicians surrounding Trak put him to sleep.

  He didn’t remember anything else until he woke to the awful smell of wet ashes. His head pounded, making him squint in the light from a dirty window. At least he had made it to the shore. At a few points during his swim to now-dubious safety, he didn’t know if he would make it, but Trak didn’t know if his extra effort would be worth it, now that he had been captured.

  Trak sat up immediately, despite his headache. The assimilation spell, meant to absorb his memory and leave him as a virtual slave to the guild, hadn’t worked! He remembered everything. Could the Magicians Guild know? He would have to pretend his memory had been wiped.

  He looked at his wrist and found it aching and bandaged. They had likely scratched out the word ‘worry’ that would weaken many spells. It wouldn’t matter this time. He smiled despite his current state. Now all he had to do was wait for the right moment and escape. A table or a chair, anything that could be thought of as a platform would take him high into the air.

  He lay back and took another whiff of the smell of wet ashes and looked out the little window. He couldn’t see much from the raindrops making the window muddy from the ash. What had the rebels done? Did Estia even exist any longer? He remembered sleeping in a room like this the last time he had been taken by the guild, so it must have escaped destruction.

  The door opened, and Master Borega walked in wearing the robes of a Dark Blue master; so, he had given himself a promotion. A yellow-robed acolyte followed, carrying a tray of food. “I see you have finally awakened.”

  “How long was I sleeping?” Trak said. He hated what he’d have to do, but he needed to see if Valanna was fine.

  “Nearly one full day. You are rather resistant to spells, Master Bluntwithe.”

  “Master?” Trak furrowed his brow. The acting would now begin. He put his hand to his head, since he didn’t have to fake a headache.

  “Ah. Yes, you have been accepted back into the guild.”

  “I’ve been in it before?” Trak said. He eyed the tray still in the hands of the Yellow. “Is that food for me? It might help calm this headache.”

  Borega nodded his head. “It is. Do you remember any spells?”

  “Poses. I remember poses and words.” Trak rubbed his head slowly since it actually seemed to help with the pain. “I am a magician?” He looked up at Borega. “I am a Master of the guild?”

  “You are a Purple,” Borega said. “The only Purple still active in Estia.”

  Trak squinted his eyes. “Still?”

  After clearing his throat, Borega sat on his bed. “We are in the midst of a civil war. Those who follow our leader, Black Master Riotro, have sworn allegiance to his ascendancy to the new throne of Santasia. The remaining Purples have gone south with our master.”

  “Can I have some of that food?” Trak said, with his eyes fixed on his meal, looking away from Borega.

  Borega motioned to Yellow to put the tray down on a bedside table. Trak grabbed a small loaf of bed and bit into it. His stomach craved something.

  After swallowing and downing half a glass of water, Trak sighed. “What about those that have gone over to the other side?”

  “We had some issues with a conflict of opinion. Some are imprisoned. Some have left the guild, and Master Riotro pursues them to the south.”

  “What am I to do?” Trak said, trying to make his eyes look vacant.

  “You are to stay here in this room until Master Riotro returns for further evaluation. Your headache should only last a few days. It’s normal for those who have been absorbed.”

  Trak didn’t see extending his patience that long, now that he had no allies in the guild. He nodded and rose to his feet. His legs were shaky when he rose. Had they drugged his food or was the sleeping spell taking a long time to wear off?

  He knew he had enough strength and determination to strike a pose. He slid from one non-pose to another as he pretended to struggle to the window and finally assumed the Sleep pose. “Paranon,” he said with his finger pointing at the two magicians.

  Borega’s eyes widened, and then closed as he slid to the floor along with the Yellow.

  Trak’s hands shook while he stripped Borega of his robe and left the room after finding the key and a pouch of coins in Borega’s pocket, and then locked the two guild members in his former cell.

  He walked through the empty corridor and passed a window. Perhaps the rainy weather had thinned out those walking between the guild’s buildings, but Trak would have expected more magicians to be out and about. How many had escaped? How many had been killed or imprisoned during the rebellion?

  Trak couldn’t leave the guild without freeing the captured magicians. He didn’t feel any loyalty to the guild, no matter to whom they gave their allegiance, but he knew Riotro wasn’t a man to trust, and he couldn’t leave without knowing what happened to Master Nullia. Even if she did side with the Colcanans, her power would help counter Riotro’s.

  He walked back and began to open the doors along the corridor with Borega’s key. He found Nullia staring out a window in a room as bare as the one he had left. She gave him a blank look indicating that her memories had been hidden away with the absorption spell.

  “Worry,” he said, pointing at her. The power word didn’t need a pose to work, just the mental intent. Why was that word the only one that did that? No time to think about that now.

  Nullia blinked a few times. She looked blankly at Trak and then enough of her memory returned. “Trak Bluntwithe! You are in danger. Flee while you have the chance!”

  “You’re coming with me, unless you want to start all over again as a Yellow,” he said, with a smirk on his face. He hoped it would irritate the severe Colcanan woman enough to accelerate the return of her memories.

  She shivered. “No. Has Riotro talked to you yet?”

  “Borega told me that he is chasing magi
cians heading south. I presume to Mozira?”

  She nodded her head. “Let’s get out of here, then,” she said as she approached the door.

  Trak held up his hand. “I know where there is a Yellow robe.”

  Nullia looked down at the plain shift that she wore. “That is a good idea. Lead on.”

  They returned to the slumbering magicians. Nullia and Trak tore sheets into strips and tied the pair up and gagged them. Nullia put on the yellow robe, even though the man who wore it didn’t wear any clothes beneath his. At least Borega had the courtesy to wear something so they didn’t have the same embarrassing issue with him, Trak thought.

  He opened more cell doors and Nullia found four more Masters and a few Yellows that she knew. Trak freed them from their recently-applied absorption.

  “Six of us shouldn’t have any problem leaving the grounds if Riotro isn’t here,” Nullia said after they found a room full of wadded-up robes. Most of the Masters chose to wear Yellow, but Nullia chose to proudly wear her Purple while they escaped.

  The fugitives sneaked out of the building and hurried to the door in the wall where Honor Fidelia had helped Trak escape months before.

  Nullia posed and spoke the power word and nothing happened. “It seems Riotro has discovered our secret exit.”

  “Back up,” Trak said. “I’m not at my best, so if I faint, catch me. Stand back.”

  He used the brute force pose and blew a hole in the wall. He staggered, as it took all his strength to remain upright. “We will have to crawl through. I don’t have much energy. They might have put something in my food.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Three

  ~

  None of the magicians wore elegant clothing, so once their robes were cast aside, they didn’t look much different from the rabble that roamed the streets in groups their size or larger. Since the Magicians Guild was towards the northern side of Estia, they headed further north until they reached the end of the city. Espozia never had city walls, so it wasn’t too difficult to escape from central Estia.