Vision Quest (The Demon's Apprentice Book 3) (21 page)

“It’s being seen to, Master Draeden,” I said. He looked at me with raised eyebrows for a moment, then nodded to Celia Vasquez.

“Even so,” he said. “But, you, Gilbert … you put your own soul in danger. And you put the souls of others in similar peril. Your intentions may have been noble, but your methods were, at best, misguided. Very few find a way to penetrate the Veil that shrouds our world. Having done so, you must be taught the ways of the world you’ve uncovered.” He stopped and looked over his shoulder at the rest of the Council, then focused his attention on Gilbert again. “I believe a few months under the care of Master Moon will be sufficient to put you on the right path. Mister Vasquez, I can only assume this meets with your approval.”

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” he asked, his voice brittle.

“You do have other choices, sir,” Draeden said. “As did your son. None of the other options left open to him are pleasant. I assure you, he will return to you a better man for this.”

“I understand,” he said, then looked to his son. “You do what you have to do.”

Draeden nodded and the Sentinels ushered Gil and his family away. Four more blue-robed mages brought Ryker and Lucinda forward. Ryker was visibly smaller than he’d been less than eighteen hours ago. His skin was starting to sag and his face was bruised and swollen to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Beside him, Lucinda was barefoot, but still in the black outfit she’d had on earlier. Her eyes darted left and right, and she clung to Ryker like a drowning woman.

“You two,” Draeden said, his voice stern and piercing. “Your case is much more serious. Even though you may be below the age of consent, and from the cowan world, the extent and severity of what you have done cannot be overlooked.” Lucinda whimpered, and Ryker put his hand out and shoved her behind him.

“Sir,” I said.

“No, Chance,” Draeden said. “You were in their position, and you made the choice to change. They have shown no such inclination. It will take more than just your pity to earn them clemency.”

“No,” another voice uttered, and I turned to Ryker in shock. He hadn’t spoken once in the last week, and in the face of his silence, that one word hit like a bomb. His mouth moved for a moment before he could speak again, and every word came slowly, almost painfully.

“No pity for me. Don’t deserve it. But, Lucy … please. Scared and lost.”

“Add my voice to Apprentice Fortunato’s,” another, softer voice came from the gloom behind us. I turned to look, thinking it sounded familiar, and saw a plump figure with thinning brown hair step into the light. “Not in pity, but compassion.”

“You always had a soft heart, Roland,” Hardesty said. “And a soft head to match.”

“To some of you, compassion is just an inconvenience,” Roland Dandry said. The plump little mage gave me a quick nod as he walked past me and stood next to Ryker and Lucinda. “To others, it’s a sign of weakness. But when a man you’re supposed to despise puts himself in harm’s way for you and asks nothing but a kind word in return? It makes you question things. It makes you ask why you’re supposed to revere a group of people who would rather kill children than give them a chance to redeem themselves. It makes you wonder why the most powerful wizards in the nation won’t risk the wrath of a demon, but one fugitive boy would. So, yes, I will do more than add my voice to the call for clemency here. I will take these two under my care and tutelage, if they will accept my offer.”

Draeden smiled and turned back to the Council. “How does the Council say?” he asked. “In favor?” Eight hands came up, more than enough to decide the matter. He turned back to Lucinda and Ryker. “You have been offered a chance to redeem yourselves. I have my own reservations, but I will allow this offer if you will submit to the Horus Gaze, so that Mage Dandry knows your minds. Do you agree?”

Lucinda nodded quickly, but Ryker was slower to respond. “Don’t deserve it,” he said, the words coming a little faster now. “But I won’t say no.”

“Be gentle with yourself, young man,” Dandry said as he stepped up to Ryker. “As gentle as you were with your friend. Now, look into my eyes, Ryker. See me, and let me See you.”

Ryker’s gaze locked onto Dandry’s and, for a moment, I felt like the world paused. Ryker’s face went slack, and his mouth opened a little. Dandry, on the other hand, looked like he was getting the worst end of things. His lower lip trembled and tears began to course down his face as he held the gaze. Then they both took a step back, and Ryker reached out to grab Dandry’s shoulder and steady him.

“I’ve got you, sir,” he said as Dandry shook his head and wiped tears from his cheeks. It was hard to tell in the swollen mass of Ryker’s face, but his expression seemed to hold some affection to it.

“Thank you, son,” Dandry said. “I promise you, I’ll do better by you. Now, Lucinda, it’s your turn.”

She looked at Ryker but didn’t move otherwise. Ryker put one big hand on her shoulder as he turned to her. “He’s okay, Lucy,” he said. “Trust him. You’ll see.”

She slowly stepped forward, but Draeden was at Dandry’s side first.

“Roland, maybe you should wait …” he said, but Dandry shook his head and squared his shoulders.

“No, Master Draeden,” he said. “These two have endured worse things than this. I will do no less for them. Now, Lucinda, look into my eyes. See me, and let me See you.”

Lucinda’s expression mirrored Ryker’s from earlier, except for the slight smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. At first, Dandry’s face looked saddened like before, but then his jaw clenched and he took a deep breath. When they pulled back a moment later, it was Lucinda who burst into tears.

“I’m sorry!” she said as Dandry took her in his arms. “I felt it … at the end … how mad you were. I’m sorry! Please, don’t be mad!”

“No, child,” he said, this time with steel in his voice. “You misunderstand. I’m not angry at you. Not at you.” Lucinda looked up at him and he continued. “I’m angry at the people who hurt you.”

“Mage Dandry,” Draeden said after a moment. “You’ve Seen these two, and you know their minds, as they know yours. Is it still your wish to vouch for them?”

“Yes, even more than before.”

“Ryker and Lucinda, what do you—”

“Yeah!”

“Definitely!”

Draeden nodded. “So be it. You will still be watched closely.” He gestured and the Sentinels led the three of them out. As they passed me, Dandry looked at me and smiled, and I felt as if the world was not only a little better off for people like Dandry walking around in it, but also like things were a little more … right.

“Is there any
other
business for the Council?” Draeden surveyed the room.

“It looks like that’s everything,” Moon said with a smile.

“Thank God,” Hardesty said.

“Then our business here is done. We open this circle.”

“Let it remain unbroken,” came the reply.

Dee and Dr. Corwyn broke from the crowd as Draeden came up to me. He looked at Dee and then gave me a broad smile that reminded me of a shark.

“So, it looks as though you won’t be the only Fortunato attending the Franklin Academy,” he said.

“That’s up to her and Mom,” I said. “But why would you send her?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Draeden laughed. “Corwyn gave her an iron-cored wand, and she still knocked a grown man off his feet. You, young lady, are going to be a powerful mage someday.”

“I can be anything I
want
to be when I grow up,” Dee said with her chin thrust forward.

Draeden shook his head. “I guess the attitude is genetic,” he said as he walked away.

The rest of the Council was already halfway to the other side of the hangar, and the crowd inside was headed for the doors closer to us. Gage called my name out and trotted over before we could join the throng.

“I wanted to give you your telekinesis rod back, and say goodbye.”

“Leaving already?” I asked.

“A week and a half in the same state with you is stressful enough,” he said as he handed my TK rod over. “Closer proximity to you than that warrants hazard pay.”

“And here I thought we were just starting to get to know each other.” I turned the rod over in my hands, then asked the question that was on my mind. “Why did you tell them I’d cast a spell without a focus?”

“Because you did,” he said.

I had to admit, he had the whole enigmatic thing down better than I did, but I had a steady glare that very few people could resist. “No, I didn’t,” I said. “I was there for every spell I cast since you got here. I think I would know.”

“You’d think you would,” he said as he plucked the rod out of my hands. With a casual twist, he pulled the butt cap free and turned it over to let flakes of magnetite pour onto his palm.

“What did you do to my TK rod?” I demanded, my face getting hot.

“Relax, I didn’t
do
anything to it,” he said as he poured the magnetite back into the rod. “I noticed it was broken right before you went to your father’s. I replaced the core and put the cap back on, but I never got the opportunity to tell you about it before you left. I’d completely forgotten about it until the next time I saw you, and by the time I could address the situation, you’d already cast a spell to shield yourself. It was all rather sudden.”

“So, all last night, I was casting TK spells on my own?” I asked.

“Indeed you were. As such, congratulations are in order on being granted full Apprentice status. I only ask one thing; that you do not dishonor the Academy.” The condescending tone was gone, and for the first time, he spoke to me like an equal. He stuck his hand out, and I took it.

“I won’t disappoint you,” I said as we shook hands. He smiled, and it finally reached his eyes.

“I know,” he said. “Good luck.” He turned and headed for the far side of the hangar, and I went to join Dr. C and Dee by the door. As I got to the slanting rectangle of light near the door, I felt a familiar shift in my perceptions and heard a bell ring. My vision shifted as well, and I saw a sapling on a spit of sand in a creek.

Dr. Corwyn caught me as I staggered. He helped me get my feet back under me, then looked closely at me. I shook my head to clear it, but the afterimage was too clear in my mind.

“Chance, what is it?” he asked, his face etched with concern.

“My vision …” I said. “Take Dee home. I know what I need to do.”

Chapter 12

~ Rely little on prophecy and visions, for they do not instruct you in your actions; they only remind you that you are on the right path. ~ Oracle of Delphi

Maybe it was two days without sleep and almost as long without a decent meal, but there was no moment more perfect than the Missouri sunset unfolding around me. The sky was a pale blue fading to orange and red along the horizon. On my left, the trees that grew alongside the road were a wall of brown, gray and green, with shafts of light slanting through them to dapple the white gravel road. On my right, an open field was a pallet of pale green with a thousand different colors of flowers in bloom. Fairies and pixies flitted into sight and dropped back below the foliage on both sides of the road, and the first buzz of frogs and insects started to rise into the air. A breeze ruffled through my hair, dispelling the worst of the heat and bringing me the scents of clover and wildflowers. It was a perfect time and place.

I’d been here before, but the last time had been at night. Then, I didn’t have the time to appreciate how pretty it was out here, and I certainly didn’t have the light. The road forked, and I followed it to the left, like I had on my birthday, and like I had been doing in my dreams for the past few weeks. The sun started to dip below the horizon, the sky above me turned from blue to turquoise, and the fading light turned the clouds crimson. Laughter rang out from up the road, and I felt a moment of concern. Having visions probably wasn’t a good thing with strangers around. A few steps later, the concern dissolved as I came to the edge of a campsite and saw a familiar silver Mustang parked off the road.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked. Shade, Lucas, and Wanda looked at me from where they sat at the concrete picnic table, and I could see the same question in their eyes. Lucas’s eyes were red and puffy, and Shade looked more than a little lost, her gaze going from Lucas to me and back.

“I think,” Wanda said absently, her gaze not quite focused on me, “we were waiting for you.”

“But how did you …?” I asked, not exactly sure what I wanted to say.

“Wanda called us,” Shade said, her voice tinged with concern. “She said there was someplace we needed to be. It’s like she’s been in a trance since I picked her up.”

“She led us straight here,” Lucas added. “And then, she stopped.”

“It wasn’t time,” Wanda said. “It still isn’t. Almost, though.” Looking at her, I hesitated to say her gaze was vacant. It was like she was seeing more than we were, focusing on things we couldn’t see.

“Time for what?” I asked. I knew why I was here, but why had my friends and my girlfriend been called here?

“Magick and wonder,” Wanda said with a smile as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the last light of day faded. True dark seemed to settle around us like a blanket, then hundreds of bright green points of light rose from the ground around us as fireflies took flight. The pale blue and white glow of pixies and fairies slowly descended around us, adding their own buzz and high-pitched giggles to the night sounds. They hovered in place for a moment or two, then moved in unison, creating a swirling pattern that bent on itself, then back the other way, forming something completely new and beautiful before bursting apart and reforming into something else entirely. We watched in awe as Nature danced to some unheard tune before us. After a minute, everything paused, and a path opened in the glowing mass, leading down toward the creek. A few pixies darted down it, chasing each other and giggling. Wanda turned to us and nodded her head toward the path with a knowing smile before she started walking. I followed her and felt a growing certainty that this was exactly what was supposed to be happening. We followed the glowing trail down to the creek, where fireflies hovered over the water, showing a way for us.

The creek bed was shallow where we stepped, and our path led across fallen logs or stones that made for a dry path most of the way. Then we were standing at the edge of the circle of saplings that marked the Maxilla’s resting place. The circle of stones was still there but the runes were faded, and a circle of mushrooms made a fairy ring around Mr. Chomsky’s staff, which still stood upright where I’d planted it. A vine spiraled its way up the length of it, and fae darted around the top. We all stepped into the ring of saplings in unison, and it seemed like the world stopped just inside that circle.

Fireflies and fae circled the top of the staff, and I went to it. That it was still standing upright was amazing in its own right. When I got close, I could see a small green nodule near the top, and as I looked closer, I realized it wasn’t from the vine. This little green bud had emerged from the staff itself. I stared at it in wonder then reached out and gently touched one finger to the base of it. It was real, living and warm from the sun’s heat. As I stared at the bud, awestruck … it opened.

It was as if I was watching the Universe itself being born as the little green leaf unfurled, seeing something unimaginably huge mirrored in a tiny leaf. The change in perspective made me feel like I was falling, but also like I was floating, and a hundred things all seemed to be happening at the same time in my brain.

The Vision I’d been waiting for wasn’t just mine. It was being given to all four of us, a glimpse of what could be.

Both separately and together, you have put your feet on the path of a powerful Destiny,
I heard/knew. We were all hearing that, and yet, I knew it was meant as much for me specifically as it was for everyone else. I could feel all four of us as we stood in separate spaces that all seemed to touch for the moment. We could all see a shimmering path stretched out in front of us, every inch of it an image of what might be if we kept on the same path, hundreds of thousands of possibilities laid out in crystal clarity.

It is not an easy path. You will find the way contested if you persist.
I knew that pain and suffering, lonely days and faded hope were down that path, but even the thought of doing things any other way was like looking into a pit of regret. Who I was at the end of that path was someone I actually wanted to be.
Other roads looked comfortable, but again, regret always seemed to follow alongside the easy way. And I was okay with that. I’d never been very good at normal.

The world seemed to rush past me, and suddenly I was standing alone in the clearing. There was a tension in the air, like I was expecting something to happen, though I had no clue what that something was. But when She walked into the circle, I was certain I’d been waiting there all my life for her to show up. Whoever she was.

“Who am I?” she asked for me. “Perhaps I am Fate. Mayhap I am Destiny. To some I might be the Future.”

“I don’t believe in Fate,” I said.

“I don’t require your belief to exist,” she said with a smile as she took a step closer. Her features shifted, and she looked younger. “But then, what you don’t believe in … is what I’m not.”

“What you’re not?” I said.

“Set in stone,” she said. Her hand came up and she pressed it against my chest. I could feel the pressure, but not just on my skin, like her hand was passing through me. “I’m only as real as maybe. Your Destiny, your Future, is always in flux. All I can show you is what will probably happen. And that means only the really big things, those with the most momentum.” She stepped back and pulled her hand away from my body, her face lined at the corners of her eyes and mouth, streaks of gray in her hair.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked her. The clearing was gone, and we floated in some empty, dark place. I sensed movement just beyond the blackness, and didn’t quite hear a rush of sound in the distance.

“So you will understand what you’re seeing, and what you aren’t,” a little girl Destiny said from beside me. “And, most importantly, why you’re seeing it.”

“Why is … that important?” I asked, trying to get around saying why twice in one sentence.

“When you took up the Page of Swords after Sydney died, you made the choice to become the Maxilla’s guardian, and thus the Seeker later on.
You
became the Page of Swords because you
chose
that Fate, and thus the
wyrd
became yours. That was …” she paused, now a young woman, “a small thing compared to what lies before you. You must understand this, Chance Fortunato, even if only for this brief moment. The futures I will show to you, you must consent to. The belief that Fate is set in stone, that the Future is fixed and beyond our control, it is the great lie mortals tell themselves to avoid this simple truth: All great Destinies, the ones that matter, the Fates that are the hardest but most worthwhile … all of those Destinies are chosen.”

“What about the shitty ones?” I asked bitterly.

“Fate has no hand in what mortals do to each other,” she said with a lingering sadness. “Those futures can be changed, like you changed yours. But that is what lies behind you; it leads to what lies before you. Are you ready to See?”

“Show me,” I said.

Fear not.
I opened my eyes to the sight of the Milky Way stretched across the night sky. The sounds of water over stone reached my ears, with a chorus of insects and frogs in the background. Two words resonated in my memory, like the pronouncement of Titans.

Fear not.

I had no idea what it meant. Vague memories of speaking to a woman … mists that dissipated even as I tried to recall them. All I was left with was the impression that something was going to happen. Those memories solidified on closer inspection. Suddenly, fear was the only emotion my brain had room for. The seals on Mammon’s prison were weakened, and getting weaker by the day. The Emperor of the deepest pit of the Abyss, imprisoned for millennia, was stirring and all the horrific beasts that had been imprisoned with him were not slumbering as deeply as they once did.

Worse yet, the plan to awaken and free him wasn’t exactly his own. Someone else had plans for the Emperor of Hell. And I was supposed to stop it. No … I was supposed to
help
stop it. I wasn’t alone; I had three allies lying on the ground next to me. They weren’t the only ones I could call on if I needed help. And, I had a magick sword. Even Mammon would think twice about facing off against the Maxilla.

“Wow,” I heard Lucas say from somewhere off to my right. “I feel … weird.”

“I feel … peaceful,” Wanda said.

Shade crawled over to me and laid her head in the hollow of my shoulder, so that I could wrap my left arm around her, but she was still looking up at the sky.

“What about you?” I asked softly.

For a few moments, she was silent, then she took a deep breath. “It’s … complicated,” she finally said. “I just hope I’m worth it to you in the end.”

“I could say pretty much the same thing,” I said. “Being with me is going to be rough.”

“I’m used to that,” she said with a chuckle. “No matter what, if you love me, it’s all worth it. And I don’t plan on loving anyone else but you.”

I kissed the top of her head, then looked back up at the stars. My thoughts came back to the little leaf growing from the top of Mr. Chomsky’s staff. One image from my vision came back to me. I was going to come back here someday. And where Mr. Chomsky’s staff stood right then, I remembered seeing a tree.

As the stars drifted overhead, I felt the first tears slide down the sides of my face. Ryker and Lucinda were in good hands, and some of the damage I’d done was being mended. Every spell I’d ever cast for my father and Dulka was undone, every person I’d enslaved for them was free. And Dulka was back in Hell, which meant even my father had a shot at redemption. I’d made a promise the night my mom brought me home, to make things right. Over the past couple of days, I’d started to make good on those promises.

Now, to face the threat of Mammon, there was me, a sixteen-year-old apprentice, ready to stand in the way of his return. Because someone thought
that
was a good idea. But in spite of the long odds, I still felt like I had a shot at stopping him. For the first time in a long time, I had hope.

As the stars began to fade in the east, we got up and headed for our vehicles.

“Get them home safe,” I told Shade as Wanda and Lucas climbed into her silver Mustang.

“You want a ride back to your car?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I need to leave the same way I came in,” I said. I leaned forward and kissed her, then rubbed my cheek against hers. “I’ve loved you since forever,” I whispered in her ear. “And I don’t plan on stopping…ever.” She smiled as she pulled back and touched my cheek.

“I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that,” she said before she gave me a quick kiss and got in her car. I watched her car pull away, then started the long trek to my own car. The sky was gray by the time I reached it, and I saw the red blinking light on my phone that meant I’d missed a call. A familiar number showed on the screen when I slid it open, and I hit the call button as I turned the key in the Mustang’s ignition.

“Hey, everything’s cool,” I said as soon as the call picked up on the other end. “Come by my house to get your stuff.”

Three hours later, I pulled into the driveway at home. Dee was a limp, blanket covered bundle in my back seat. I got out and opened the trunk to retrieve the Maxilla, then leaned into the back to pull my little sister to me. Briefly, I wondered what our neighbors might think, assuming any of them were home to see. I pushed the door closed and allowed myself a smile at what I must look like, a teenage boy carrying a limp girl into the house with a big ass sword strapped across his back.