Balancer (Advent Mage Cycle) (36 page)

Her eyes flared wide. “Busted buckets, I’d forgotten about that!”

“Yeah, me too,” I admitted sourly.

“That stone put you in a daze the last time you were around it,” she said in concern, studying my face. “How bad was it carrying the building here?”

“Bad isn’t the right term…” I answered, trying to think of the right way to phrase this. “It was just really distracting. I felt like the stone was trying to communicate with me.”

Chatta blinked at me, expression blank for a moment. “Garth. Stone doesn’t talk.”

“Didn’t stop it from trying,” Sallah said as she and Aral came around the corner, arms linked.

“Sallah! Aral! What are you doing here so early? Was the building really that difficult?” Chatta went over to give them hugs.

“It was
really
talkative,” Aral said dryly.

“And it wasn’t really ‘talking’ as it was…you know how the Gardeners talk? It’s more impressions than actual words,” I told her.

“So the stone has such deep impressions in it that you can feel it?” Chatta asked, trying to follow my explanation.

“I think that’s it exactly. Whatever it is, it’s
very
distracting.” We stood there studying the glowing structure, the sunlight streaking through the columns and arches setting it aflame.

As we all stood contemplating the troublesome building, King Guin and Val Haben rode up next to us.

“What a magnificent structure!” Guin chortled in unabashed delight. “I have never seen such a splendid piece of architecture and art all rolled into one! This will be quite a setting for your wedding, Garth and Chatta. I don’t suppose you would consider building something similar for Del’Hain, when you take this jewel back to Coven Ordan?”

The beginning of an idea started to poke around my brain. I wondered if Raile would allow us to leave the Amphitheater here in Del’Hain, and build a duplicate for Coven Ordan. It would save us all the headache of carting this thing again. I exchanged looks with Sallah and Aral, and by the grins on their faces, I could tell they were entertaining the very same notion.

“We will see what we can do, Your Majesty,” I assured Guin with heartfelt sincerity. If the Amphitheater never moved again, that would suit me just fine. “For right now I think we’d better stabilize the foundation and construct a wide sweeping staircase up to the entrance. Then Chatta and her minions can set to decorating this place.”

With a synchronized nod of our heads, we set to our tasks. I could see my favorite King rocking back and forth on the soles of his boots, lost in some elaborate plans for this massive new toy. I felt confident that he had most likely already added it to his collection; he didn’t worry about the details. The only thing that was needed to make the scene complete was a handful of cookies and a glass of milk. I wondered if Val Haben might just happen to have such a snack for the King in his saddle bags. Jaunten were famous for their long memories and experience; it wouldn’t surprise me to find a cookie hiding somewhere in those bags.

Chapter
Twenty-Five: Inheritance

For several days, I spent every waking moment thinking about an Academy. Sometimes I drew out plans for it, made notations, or conferred with experts. Never had my drawing talents been so useful to me. But when I wasn’t creating lines on paper, I looked with careful consideration at a map of Chahir.

It took me a ridiculously long time to realize that the perfect site of the Academy already existed. Better yet, no one would ever think to build on it.

The Isle of Strae.

When the thought hit me, I snagged a surveyor and one of the architects and dragged them both to the Isle. They spent several hours investigating, computing, and measuring but eventually came to the conclusion that the land would be a good place to build and that with some minor modifications, the plans I’d already drawn would work well on one point of the Isle. It was enough confirmation for me.

I took them back and then went directly home myself.

The site, to my mind, would be perfect. But the Isle had a funny sort of reputation to it. Too many people thought of it as cursed because of the terrible battle that had been fought on it. Others thought of it as a prison because that’s where the King had chosen to exile the magicians. I didn’t know how Vonlorisen would take my proposal of the site. It was just a gut feeling that told me he wouldn’t react well. Not initially, at least.

All of the political meetings, manipulations and power plays that I’d been forced to participate in the past several months had taught me a few things. If I wanted to propose something that I was relatively sure my King would not like, then I had to present it right.

And to do that, I needed backup.

~*~

Early the next morning, I dove into the hated formal Mages robes before going directly to the courtyard where we were supposed to meet at. Fortunately, all of the Mages were ready when they were supposed to be, dressed in formal Mage robes as I’d requested, so I rounded them all up and went straight to the Chahiran palace.

On the way there, I took the opportunity to run everyone through the plans I had tentatively formed and got their input. Each of them needed specific land and spaces to be able to teach, after all. If they needed something I hadn’t thought of, I wanted to know about it
before
I started building. Jenna took notes for all of us, sketching out ideas as they were thrown out. We’d barely scratched the surface when we had to stop.

I brought us up in the throne room. There was the usual screeching from the lords and ladies present, but no one bolted for the door, so it was an improvement over the last time that I’d been here.

When they got a good look at everyone that was with me, I think they’d wished they had bolted, though. Too bad.

I stood facing Vonlorisen, my head held high and confidence in every fiber of my being. In that moment, I could see in the mirrored wall behind his throne. I stood at the center of the room, but arrayed behind me were six Mages—all of them but one brought out of Chahir by the team. Cora, Jenna, Jillian, Jarod, Krys, Helena—all of them my friends. With us in the official, formal robes of a Magus we looked very formidable, and powerful. I could almost believe us to be invincible in that moment.

“Magus.” Vonlorisen stood, eyes intently scrutinizing each individual person behind me. I think he recognized that I was very serious and that he probably wouldn’t like what I had to say. After all, I’d woken this man in the middle of the night before without hesitation. If I wanted to make a proposal I thought he’d like, I wouldn’t be doing a formal presentation like this one. But he was an old hand at politics and didn’t call me out right there. “You apparently have a proposal to make to the court. I will certainly hear you. First, will you introduce your companions?”

I played along in the same polite tone. “Certainly, Your Majesty. With me are Life Mage Hevencoran, Elemental Mage Rheijennan, Life Mage Deijillian, Elemental Mage Lonjaroden, Fire Mage Haikrysen, and Water Mage Sinhelenan.”

I think half the court started hyperventilating. I couldn’t exactly blame them—I had enough firepower with me, so to speak, to wipe out the capitol if we felt like it.

Vonlorisen, to his credit, only looked like a landed fish for a split second. “I see. Mages, you honor us with your presence.”

Everyone gave a polite bow in response.

Since Vonlorisen was clearly wondering
why
he had seven Mages in his court, I decided it was time to talk. “Your Majesty, these are the Mages that will serve as instructors for the new Academy. They are not the only instructors, of course, but they do stand as a representation for the others.” I had to fight a smile as I said this and keep my face appropriately smooth and solemn. Vonlorisen made this a difficult task—he looked so much like a giddy boy with a new chest full of toys that I just wanted to grin. “We wish to return to our homeland to teach and guide the rising generation. We just have one condition.”

Vonlorisen’s joy faded, tempered a little by the idea of having to pay some outrageous price. “And that would be?”

“We will have all of the Isle of Strae for our use. We will build an academy there, as there are academies in Hain, to teach.”

“But that’s too far!” he instantly protested. “Surely you can find some place on the mainland that is suitable.”

I shook my head firmly, denying this idea. “Every possible site is too close to a political seat of some sort. Or it is in an area that is not…accepting of magic at this point. The Isle of Strae is perfect for our needs
because
it is so far removed.”

His mouth closed on another hot protest, and for several moments he regarded me thoughtfully. “An excellent point, Magus. And you believe that being anywhere on the mainland is simply too dangerous at this time?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “I have discussed this with the others and they agree.”

“But the Isle…” he protested with a wince of dislike. “The history of that place is not a pleasant one. Surely you can create another island instead?”

“It is because of its history that I want it,” I corrected him gently. “I do not want anyone forgetting
why
we have been forced to build a new academy. This generation will learn from the mistakes of the Magic War, and we will not repeat them.”

Vonlorisen was silent only a moment more, and then he snorted in amusement. “Guin told me that you were a man of few words. I’m not sure if I believe that right now. Very well, Garth, you have made your point. If you will come and guide Chahir back into the world of magic, you may certainly have the Isle of Strae.”

“Thank you,” I said simply. “King Vonlorisen, we are at your service.”

~*~

It took five more days of cramming, crumpling up paper, consultations, and far too many calculations, but I eventually finished the final draft of the Chahiran Academy – the yet to be named Chahiran Academy. Ye gods, but that would start a whole new headache, now that I thought of it. Everyone and their dog would want to tell me what the academy should be named.

I wondered if I could get by with arbitrarily naming it myself…?

No, probably not.

Letting out a sigh, I rolled up the blue prints and took a quick trip to Chahir. I stayed only long enough to hunt down Saroya, hand over the draft, and then I quickly left again before I got embroiled in whatever current problem Saroya wanted to draft my help for.

When I was back in Del’Hain, I decided it would be wise to go to the amphitheater and see what my fiancée and all of her helpers have gotten up to.

Chatta had chosen the temporary sight of the amphitheater rather well. It was on the outskirts of Del’Hain, but it was right near one of the main streets, so it was very easy for people to get to it. My only contribution to the decorating for the wedding, aside from bringing the building there, was creating an elaborately curved staircase leading up to the main doors. I hadn’t seen the building since I put the stairs in place. I was curious to see what Chatta had done in my absence.

I popped up right in front of the main stairs, noting as I came up that at some point in time, someone had added some very elaborate material of blue and silver silk that draped along the balustrade. I nodded in approval as I took in the overall effect. Very nice. So, her theme was blue and silver?

Opening the door, I stepped inside, eyes taking in the whole area.
Wow
. They’d outdone themselves. Chatta’s theme was indeed silver and blue. There were touches of it everywhere— swept along the aisles, on the banners hanging from the walls, the sheer swags that dripped from the ceilings to wrap around the columns, to the decorative twinkle lights captured in iridescent globes all around the cavernous room. Stunning without being overwhelming. It made the pale blue marble of the building seem to glow with inner light, a twilight dream turned reality.

I barely took in the overall impression before Chatta caught sight of me and called out in excitement. It took a second for me to spot her. She was buried in packing paper and crystal thingamabobs. Really, I had no idea what she was planning to do with those.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I greeted, weaving my way down the stairs. “It looks incredible. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“
Outdone
, I just feel
overdone
and
done in
,” she groaned, struggling futilely to free her legs from some stray packing material. As far as I could tell, she only succeeded in entangling herself even more. “I forgot how
huge
this building is,” she complained, as she concentrated on the fugitive debris that seemed to take on a life of its own.

I had too, until I’d had to move it. Funny how the mind played tricks on us. Reaching her side, I helped untangle her, or tried to. She was so wrapped up that I finally gave up, picked her up by the waist, and simply lifted her free.

“
Thank
you,” she huffed in relief, beaming up at me. “So? Is the academy all planned out?”

“I just gave the final draft to Saroya,” I answered cheerfully. “If he doesn’t like it—or Vonlorisen doesn’t—they can hire their own architects and build the thing.”

Her smile widened so that it bordered on an outright grin. “So it’s a take it or leave it kind of deal?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t blame you,” she responded with a shrug. “I wouldn’t give them any room to argue with you about how it should be built. People can be sticklers on the strangest details.”

“I’m not delaying the construction of the academy any more than I have to,” I agreed with a stubborn set to my jaw. “If there’s something that we need to change, it can be changed
later
.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” she assured me brightly. “Now, if you’re free, that means you’re here to help me decorate this monstrosity, right?”

I looked around and couldn’t imagine what else there was left to do. “Well, sure, but…aren’t you pretty much finished?”

From behind me, there was the muffled laughter of my mother and Sallah. I had the feeling I had just asked a dumb question. “…er, forget I asked. Alright, so what do you want me to do?”