Phantom Fae (2 page)

Then he saw the other mage apprentice, Zane, his blond hair pulled back in a tail, his blue eyes sharp with hatred. He wore gold silk robes as if he were the prince of the mages. Unlike Brett who wore the clothes that Ena had so graciously bought for him. Which made him think of how he still had to earn an income to pay her back since he wasn't working for her any longer.

Zane glanced up at the wall walk where the raven was sitting, then sneered, and raised his hand as if to cast some spell on the bird. Brett feared the mage intended to harm the raven.

Brett rushed to stop him, knowing full well, he could never reach him in time. He prayed the distraction would stop the mage apprentice.

Before Brett was even aware of what he was doing, he flew, literally, at the man. His feet had lifted off the ground and gasps sounded all over the bailey. True to his belief, he startled Zane with his action right before Brett slugged him in the jaw with his fist and knocked him on his rear. Zane stared up at Brett. The mage's mouth was agape as Brett set his feet down on the grassy ground.

Brett's heart was beating hard as he still couldn't believe what he had done—as far as the flying was concerned. Punching the mage in the jaw? Totally called for.

"None of that!" the queen screeched, and Brett realized she and everyone seated on the dais had come off their gilded silver chairs and were looking on in horror.

Not feeling in the least rebuked for having done something so un-mage like, Brett offered his hand to Zane. The mage-apprentice only glowered at him and stood on his own, then brushed off his robes. The fabric was skinned in places, and Brett took some satisfaction in ruffling the mage-apprentice's feathers a bit for having intended to harm the raven. At least he was fairly certain that was the mage's intent.

Brett looked up at the wall and saw a couple of black feathers floating to the ground. The raven was still seated on the wall walk. Had Zane startled her, and she lost a couple of feathers because of it? He hoped she had not been injured. He let out his breath. Eyeing the two of them, the bird was not leaving. Or…fae, because he knew that the bird was not a real raven. He was glad the raven would stay.

"You will die in the first trial, mage imposter," Zane growled.

Brett bowed his head to him a little; not that he agreed with him. Maybe Brett had some more unseen abilities like the flying one. He looked back at the distance he had gone, still not believing he'd moved in such a manner without the aid of wings.

"Get on with the trial!" the queen shouted. "Zane, you have the honor of going first."

Good. Brett had wanted to see just what he was in for first, figuring he'd just do whatever Zane did when it was his turn. If he could.

Zane gave him an evil grin and said an incantation. Tensing, Brett wanted to knock the mage-apprentice out and that would be the end of whatever he planned to do. But Brett figured that wouldn't be acceptable and he might just end up being eliminated for being so…rebellious. In the real world, if he wasn't trying to stay alive in a mage trial, which this was for now, he would have killed the mage by any means necessary. Without trying to bring on mage abilities he couldn't summon for the life of him. Well, except for the flying.

Brett's muscles were wound tight, as he waited to spring into action to deal with whatever happened next.

To his shock and horror, he witnessed a three-headed hydra—a serpent-like monster with green reptilian skin as tough as a snake's—materialize out of thin air a few feet away. Standing upright on a single tail, the hydra was posed to strike, it's back to him—the heads writhing. Then it slowly twisted around, as if realizing the people on the dais were not its intended prey. The creature turned around fully, all the heads focused on him as if the mage apprentice had told them who the enemy was. Its yellow eyes narrowed and forked tongues flicked at the air. Brett's heart raced pell mell. Immediately, he ran out of the hydra's path, expecting the hydra to dart after him as Brett tried to come up with a solution at once. Instead of moving fast, the creature slithered across the grassy inner bailey, moving more like a slow zombie. Thank the heavens.

The hydra was bad news, if this was anything like the Greek myth or other versions of the hydra that Brett had fought in video games. For every head he'd cut off in the games, two new ones would appear. Except the hydras he normally killed in video games started out with only one head. Was Zane worried he couldn't beat Brett without stacking the odds in his favor?

Brett didn't know any magic that could kill the beast. The three heads were twisting, the highly venomous fangs bared, and their green reptilian eyes all focused on him. He wished he had magic from one of his games that could kill it. Or a sword that had a magical enchantment.

Getting closer, one of the heads struck at him. Brett dove out of its path and ran far enough away to give him a moment to look around and see what he could use to kill it. The only weapons available to him were the guards' swords. Not that any of the guards were offering him a sword. He hoped when he tried to take one from the closest guard, the bearded man wouldn't stop him. Brett flew to the man and the guard's eyes rounded, right before Brett grabbed for his sword.

"Need to borrow it," Brett said in a rush, yanking the sword free from the scabbard. The startled guard jumped back, but didn't try to retake his sword. Maybe because the hydra was headed in their direction and he'd rather Brett take care of it before he was also in the path of the monster.

After taking a deep breath to steady his raw nerves—this was so not like playing a video game where he could go to an earlier saved game if he died—Brett flew back to the hydra and as the first head struck its fangs at him, he swung his sword. The sword connected with the tough hide and cut all the way through the neck. The hydra screamed in agony as the head dropped to the ground and jerked around in its death throes, the tongue still flicking. With real snakes, a person could be bitten for a time even if the snake was dead. So Brett had to watch getting too close to it. The stench of blood and of fishy hydra filled Brett's nostrils.

The hydra continued to roar in anger and pain, the sound nearly deafening. Two new heads formed at the stump of the neck that was missing a head, dashing Brett's hopes that the creature wasn't like the mythological beast. Now he had to cut off four heads. In the video game, he needed fire to sear the wounds closed. Or wield a magical sword that could take care of this. Or… create magic that could eliminate the beast.

Which he couldn't conjure up for the life of him. What he did know was how to fight, having done so to help protect Ena and her people. Practice made perfect and he was certain, given time, he could fight another mage using magic. But he needed more time to learn the skills. He ran off as the hydra slithered behind him, flicking its forked tongues, its breath and bite poisonous if it got close enough. At least, according to legend and his games. Brett didn't want to get near enough to see if it was true here.

He glanced at one of the burning braziers nearby, white hot flames leaping into the air. What if he could poke his sword into the flames and heat it thoroughly enough to sear the hydra's neck wound? But would the air cool it too much as he swung the sword? Brett imagined how his sword needed to be coated with flames so he could seal the wounds of the hydra and keep it from growing new heads. Before he could fly toward the closet brazier, flames suddenly flickered around the glistening steel blade. For a second, he stared at the flaming sword. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. Just like he was still having a difficult time believing he was a phantom fae. Or that he was a mage now, too. It was just like magic. Maybe some of it was coming to him after all the studying he'd done.

Brett turned and found the hydra moving toward him in its slow zombie like, slithering pace. Once it got close enough, the heads moved quickly, one of them coiled to strike. At least only one threatened him at a time, as if the hydra could only concentrate on moving one to kill a predator. Brett again feared swinging the sword would put out the flame, or slicing through the leathery neck of the hydra would. Or maybe even that its blood would extinguish the fire. What if the flaming sword wouldn't even prevent the hydra from growing another two heads? That's how legends claimed it would work, but the mage apprentice had created this one. No telling what would work on it.

Brett swept the sword across one of the beast's necks—the one closest to him as the head bent to strike. The sharp edge of the flaming steel cut through the leathery skin and lopped off another head, the hydra screaming in pain. But this time, new heads didn't appear from the burned and blackened flesh. The flames surrounding the sword remained intact. Thanking God, Brett quickly swung again, cutting off another head.

Before one of its remaining two heads could swing around and bite him, Brett dove out of its path in Zane's direction. Would the hydra attack the mage-apprentice? Brett could only hope.

The hydra moved toward the two of them, but ignored Zane as if he wasn't even there, which, considering Zane had conjured him up, wasn't totally a surprise. The hydra continued to writhe its remaining heads and exposed their fangs, hissing as they tried to reach Brett.

Brett came around and swung, connecting with one of the necks of the beast. Its ear-shattering screech echoed across the bailey as it swung its last head around to sink its fangs into him. His skin sweating, despite the cool air, he dove under it. He swung the sword up and over, cutting off the last of the heads.

Trying to catch his breath, Brett watched the hydra collapse to the ground in a dead heap. Then all the hydra's heads and the body vanished as if they'd never been there.

He felt some satisfaction as he stared at the area where the creature had disappeared and felt as though it was like a video game—in that it hadn't been real. Though if one of those heads had managed to bite him, he was certain he would have been poisoned.

He gave Zane a smug look, glad that he had managed to survive that part of the first of the trials. Zane was looking at the ground as if he couldn't believe Brett could manage to destroy his conjured beast.

Now what? Brett was afraid the queen would ask
him
to summon a beast for Zane to tackle. She scowled at Brett as if she was disappointed he'd survived, since Zane was the favored mage apprentice. Instead of her commanding Brett to do anything, she just waved for a dismissal. Which was good because he hadn't learned to conjure up any kind of beast to use to fight with.

"Tomorrow, the second trial begins," the queen said, and then she stalked off.

Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. Tomorrow would be his turn to conjure something up and Zane would have to deal with it.

Then Brett was irritated. He highly suspected she had intended that Zane would create a monster to kill him, and when that didn't happen, she had no intention of Brett having his turn. That if he could have done so, the mage apprentice might not have managed to kill off Brett's beast. He let out his breath. He would have to read up on that tonight and see if he could produce one, just in case.

Flaming sword still in hand, Brett watched as the courtiers all went about their business. Except for Zane. "Now how are you going to put out the flame on the sword?" Then he snickered and stalked off.

The guard watched Brett and looked at his sword. When Brett strode toward him to give it back to him, the guard frowned and shook his head. "Keep it." He stalked off, joining some others who had been watching the exchange.

"Don’t want a flaming sword, eh, Wister?" one of the guards joked and slapped him on the back, and then they climbed the stairs that led to the wall walk to perform their guard duty.

Brett stared at the sword and imagined the flames would be extinguished, hoping that would do the trick. Nothing happened. He glanced up at the wall walk and saw the raven watching him. Worn out from his ordeal, Brett sighed and headed for the keep and his chambers where he would have to read up on flaming swords and learn how to extinguish it. He hoped he wouldn't burn the castle down while he tried to figure it out.

***

Trying not to give in to the pain where Zane had zapped her before Brett had knocked him down with a fist to the jaw, Freya flew to the healer's cottage. Though she was having trouble steering her course and tried to let the air currents carry her there. She couldn't believe that Brett would risk his life to stop Zane from injuring her. No matter how much she hurt, she hadn't been about to leave. If one of the hydra's heads had gotten too close to Brett, she would have swooped down and stolen his attention to give Brett a chance to escape.

She couldn't believe it when he flew across the bailey. He truly was a wonder, surprising everyone there who had witnessed it. And then the flaming sword? Genius! Though he had looked a little puzzled about how to put out the flames.

For now, she had to have the healer take care of her wound, but she wanted desperately to thank Brett for saving her life today.

The healer was only known as such and shook her head and tsked when Freya showed up on her fence post and cawed.

"Now how did you get this?" the healer asked, coming out of her cottage, her gray eyes worried, her long blond hair curling about her hips. She was a young healer, having taken her grandmother's place when she died. She was the only one the queen was careful to treat well, in case she became ill and needed the healer's services.

The healer lived outside of the castle, as most healers did, so that she could gather her herbs from a garden, and other items from the forest. The healer sniffed at the burns. "Zane," she said, under her breath. "Let me apply a poultice. You'll need to bandage it when you become your normal self. Do you have bandages?"

Freya nodded her head up and down. She wished the healer could understand her. That was part of the curse. No one but Brett seemed to recognize what she was saying. Was it because he was a mage? She wondered if Zane understood her, though he let on that he did not. But since the curse was his doing, he might very well understand her.