Chasing Bloodlines (Book 4) (19 page)

Gabriel walked her to her quarters, a large room below deck already stocked with chests of clothes and necessities. Her unstrung bow and set of arrows sat wrapped in canvas peeking out from beneath the bed. He grinned. “Send Prince Virgil my greetings.”

“I certainly shall. Find and kill those Arch Mages while I’m away.”

“I shall certainly try.” The Arch Mages had been too quiet as of late. No specters roamed the lands, and no one had been reported missing in weeks. It unnerved him. He gave her a passionate kiss, embracing the feel of her hands in his hair and around his neck. It had taken weeks for someone touching his neck to no longer send him into flashbacks. He sometime still struck a finger down his neck unconsciously but never with the fear like he used to. Now, he welcome her hands around him.

“I will push your ship into the river,” he said when she finally broke loose. “Stay out of trouble.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

He smiled, still getting used to that phrase. “And I love you.”

He walked her back out onto the desk and stepped off the ship, waiting patiently until the captain called to unbind the ropes. Gabriel laid the necessary patterns and jumped off the dock, stepping on ice that had a springy texture to it. He pushed on the water and slowly slid the ship forward as he stepped with. The captain saluted him and called for the sails to be unfurled as Gabriel continued to push. The captain steered as they broke through the harbor. Robyn followed him as the ship moved until she came to the stern and stopped. She raised a hand in salute. Those who came to wish her farewell cheered from her docks, but her eyes were only for him.

He returned to the dock, melting the ice as he walked, and found Aisling waiting for him. Taking her arm, he shifted them back to Jaden for the first Classing of the day, Afton’s.

He greeted his Council as they assembled in the Classing room. Mikelle was already seated with a massive tome before her where she notated the official Classes for each Mage. There were hundreds of these books in the library.

“Aisling would you call her in?” Gabriel asked and took his seat.

Afton entered minutes later trailing Aisling. The girl’s tense energy had loosened the more time she spent in Castle Jaden though sometimes she jumped at loud noises. She had taken to wearing flowing cotton dresses of pastels. Today was of pale yellow, with tall canvas-wrapped boots. Her long blonde hair fell in a tail down her back.

She stepped onto the table and stopped in the middle. The pulsing pattern emanated from her chest in a single ring like the ripple in a pond.

“Good morning, Afton.” Gabriel stated across the room.

“Greetin’s, Head Mage,” she said with a respectful bow.

“When you are ready, please show us the patterns you are capable of.”

She bowed again and extended a hand skyward. A bolt of lightning suddenly careened from the clear sky and struck her hand crackling as her hairs rose. She did not blink as contained a ball of electricity in her palm. Throwing it up, it dissipated into the sky above her. She demonstrated her ability to form a shield, to lay light-shards, and to form a Maxian-twist that constricted the organs. There were few attack and defense patterns she had to her repertoire, but Gabriel knew she was capable of more.

After she formed a slicer-pattern to sprout spikes from her arm, she folded her arms before her. “I am afraid most of my knowledge lies in t’ body. May I have someone to delve and heal?”

“Who would you like?”

“You, Head Mage,” she said with a bow.

He smiled.
‘Maybe
she
could be the one.’
“Very well.”

“Would you kindly lay back on t’ table?” she asked and gestured to it. He stood and removed his coat, laying back on the table, dangling his knees off the edge. She knelt beside his head, and the Council leaned in to watch her delve.

“May I have permission to put you to sleep?”

“I would rather be awake.”

“T’is will be painful.”

“I can handle it.”

She twined patterns around her slender fingers and poked one manicured nail after the other into his chest until she held five patterns.

“Would you explain to the Council what you’re doing?”

She bowed her head. “The Head Mage has been injured within. His lungs and liver have been split and healed improperly.”

“When did this happen?” Aisling asked and threw a delve at him. “Stars above!” she gasped.

“T’ake in a deep breath and let it out fully.”

Gabriel complied and closed his eyes, bracing for the pain. The patterns shot into him, and he felt his insides shift in a most abnormal way. He gasped in the influx of pain but kept himself from flinching. She laid another delve and sank it into his torso.

“All better,” she smiled and leaned back.

“Really?” Lewis gasped and sank his own delve. “By the stars, I did not believe it!”

“Well done,” Gabriel grinned up at her.

“Not quite finished,” she said and laid more patterns, setting them into his joints to alleviate tension and damage accrued over time.

“Can I drink wine now?”

“You may.” For good measure she cracked his neck and stood. “May I ask how you acquired a wound like t’at?”

Gabriel slid off the table and took his seat. “I laid a shift with my mind.”

“Oh, yes, I see.” She nodded. Gabriel felt his heart quicken at her familiar tone. Suddenly the ends of her hair and hem of her dress lifted and wavered as if in an unseen wind.

“Void?” Gabriel gasped. The energy of the Council changed rapidly from calm to quickening excitement as the word rolled over them.

Afton laid black patterns, the first being a shift. She knew the searchers pattern and the sleepers. She also set several immobilizing patterns, but there were some she laid that Gabriel had never seen. He frowned internally. Maxine said she taught him everything. It was good of him to distrust her in the end.

“I don’t know many Void patterns, and I can’t set t’ rest wit’out harming someone.”

“Do you know the wings-pattern?” Gabriel asked.

“Oh, aye, Head Mage,” she nodded timidly, embarrassed almost. She set the pattern and fueled it. Gripping the front of her dress so it would not fall, a pair of wings sprung from her back. They were white and tipped with dark orange. He tried to remember what orange meant.
‘Ferocious, I think. So there’s a lot more to her than meets the eye.’

“Why are yours white?” Lael asked.

She raised her brows. “I am in control of myself.”

“Why are yours black?” he looked at Gabriel.

“
Black
?” Afton gasped.

Gabriel grimaced. “You may release Void.”

The girl pulled her wings back in and stood calmly, not stitching up the back of her dress. It took Gabriel a moment to realize she must not have known the cloth-pattern, so he rapidly repaired the damage.

“Is there anything else you would like to show us?” he asked.

She twined her fingers together. “I do not know much else, Head Mage.”

“Tell me, what is this pattern that always pulses from you?”

“T’is?” she whispered. “I don’t know what it’s called, but it brushes against everyt’in’ in a room and ricochets t’em back to me. It picks up energy sources.”

“It allows you to see.”

“In a way. I feel t’ vibrations, sense t’ energy, and make an image from it.”

“Thank you, Afton. You may step down.”

Aisling walked her to the waiting room and sat back at her seat. “That was quite impressive.”

Lael pulled a book from the stack beside his chair and flipped open to notes on Spirit Mages. With the much stronger Mages they had been Classing, he was forced to research the patterns they were capable of handling, something he had not done since Gabriel’s Classing.

Gabriel cut him off before he got too far. “She laid a doldrums-pattern. Look that up. I am quite certain only Class Eights and up can lay those.”

“A Class Eight?” Markus whispered. They had Classed a good many Sixes and Sevens, but only two other Eights. Both were in Fire and from the same family. “You are right, Head Mage. Class Eight or higher are the only Classes high enough to fuel and withstand a doldrums-pattern.”

“The question now is: is she higher than that?” Gabriel posed.

“Stars,” Lael breathed passed the books across the table. Each of them to looked up one of her patterns. He drummed his fingers, wishing he had a book on Void.

The sound of pages turning filled the quiet room as the wind blew overhead through the open ceiling. “Eight,” Galloway finally said. “I canno’ find anything she used in the Class Nine qualifications.”

They quickly went around the room, voicing Eight as her Class. Gabriel stood with a smile and found Afton in the waiting room.

“We’re giving you a Class of Eight,” he grinned.

Her face brightened. “Oh, what an honor, Head Mage! T’ank you ever so much!” In her excitement, she embraced him tightly. “I hope I did not hurt you putting your lungs back toget’er.”

“I am so thankful you did. I couldn’t fight well with my ailment.”

She broke away. “Why black wings?” she whispered.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Because a Castrofax held me.”

Her mouth fell agape. “I—I t’ought…but you are not dead.”

“I was. The previous Head Mage died so I would live.” He gripped her shoulders. “But now is not a time for sadness. Go celebrate your Class.”

“T’ank you, Head Mage,” she grinned and rushed out.

Gabriel returned to the Classings. At this rate, it would take months to finish, and their attention was needed elsewhere. Aisling had a palace to run in Robyn’s absence, and Challis ruled a kingdom.

They Classed six more Gaelsins before breaking for lunch which was set out in their sitting room up the hall. Most of them stood, tired of sitting for so long. It was so odd seeing blonde-headed people in the castle. Anatoly had a few blondes, Aidenmar even less, but the rest were brunet until Arconia.

“Shaun is next,” Mikelle said as Gabriel pulled out of conversation with Lewis and Penny.

“Your vote is going to be biased,” he replied in a singsong tone.

“I’m going to ask him to do the splits.”

“Stars above, I
don’t
want to know,” he whispered. “Finish up, everyone,” he called and set his mug of hot tea aside.

They regained their seats, and Aisling walked Shaun in. He wore flowing trousers that tucked into wrapped boots which clad his calves tightly and gave him excellent movement. He had on a long sleeveless coat belted over a shirt that flowed to his elbows where it was tightly bound. Mikelle preferred to dress him in long Anatolian-style coats, but Shaun seemed to have more sway in his preferences. If Shaun could control Mikelle even in the slightest, he was worth his weight in emeralds.

“I should ask before we begin, do you control any other Element than Air?” Gabriel asked.

Shaun smiled. “No, Head Mage.”

“Then please show us what you are capable of.”

Shaun clapped his hands together, and a blast of hot hair shot from them. He drew it back and formed a swirling vortex in the center of the table. Placing one foot in the center, he stepped off the table. The air supported him. Markus, the only Air Mage, visibly gaped. Shaun climbed several more steps and flipped backwards landing on a solid disc of air that held him a few feet off the table. He jumped to the table but moved the air beneath him into an arc, swinging to the end of the table as if sliding across ice.

Shaun dropped before Gabriel and laid a muffle-pattern to absorb any sound of his clothes rustling. He laid a Malken-blast in one hand and pressed himself off the table several feet above while a stilling-pattern prevented the air from moving. It held him aloft, his hair and clothes caught up as if frozen.

Shaun set a listeners-pattern and an amplifier-pattern, one to eavesdrop and the other to magnify his voice. He made a bubble of air, a shield, a pop-pattern, demonstrated a cord-pattern, and another of compressed air that sliced through a candlestick like it was butter.

He threw a pattern into the sky that resembled a net and held on with both hands. He leaned back as he struggled against the wind outside. The room became gusty and suddenly, he straightened and leapt off the table, shooting into the sky well out of the room to the chorus of gasps. He threw his arms out, laced with a gray pattern, and slowly sank back down solidly on his feet.

Gabriel put his hand up to halt, but Markus gave him a hurt look, so Gabriel gestured to him to lead.

“Do you know the condensing-pattern?” Markus asked excitedly.

“If you permit me,” Shaun said and set it around Markus who ceased to move. Shaun released him, and Markus gasped.

“Do you know the death-draw?”

Shaun frowned.

“It pulls air out of the lungs.”

“Oh, aye,” Shaun nodded and set the pattern in one hand without fueling it.

“I thought that’s one of the forbidden patterns,” Gabriel chimed in.