Balancer (Advent Mage Cycle) Read online

  Balancer

  Book Four of the Advent Mage Cycle

  By Honor Raconteur

  Raconteur House, Tennessee

  It is not what we think or feel that makes us who we are; it is what we do—or fail to do.

  -Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

  Prologue 5

  Chapter One: Dismantling 23

  Chapter Two: Reconnaissance 31

  Chapter Three: Allies 42

  Chapter Four: Darlington 54

  Chapter Five: Dom and Domess 66

  Chapter Six: Allington 80

  Chapter Seven: Jarrell 97

  Chapter Eight: Clues 108

  Chapter Nine: Teamwork 128

  Chapter Ten: Breadcrumbs 145

  Chapter Eleven: Legends 161

  Chapter Twelve: Sigils 176

  Chapter Thirteen: Planning 197

  Chapter Fourteen: Surprises 213

  Chapter Fifteen: The Best Laid Plans 231

  Chapter Sixteen: Barrier 245

  Chapter Seventeen: A Fallen Order 254

  Chapter Eighteen: Aftermath 274

  Chapter Nineteen: Best Intentions 283

  Chapter Twenty: Responsibility 289

  Chapter Twenty-One: Plans 314

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Consequences 330

  Chapter Twenty-Three: More Planning 337

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Plans that Go Awry 347

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Inheritance 369

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Academy 389

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Wedding 403

  Epilogue 413

  Prologue

  I had an eerie sense of déjà vu as I sat in Guin’s office. The whole team arrayed in various seats, almost identical to the time when I had first met them a year and a half ago.

  We had just brought back an Elemental Mage, Lonjaroden, and a young Wizard by the name of Waetomlinen to Del’Hain when we were informed that Guin wanted to talk to us. Naturally, we went directly to him. It had been a good three months since we were last in Del’Hain, so practically anything could have happened and we wouldn’t have known it. I admit, I went to Guin’s personal study with some trepidation. Could anyone blame me? I only got called in to talk to him if something had gone very wrong and I had to fix it, or if he was assigning me some sort of monstrous task.

  Guin greeted us calmly as we filed in, but didn’t say anything until we were all seated. He leaned against the edge of his desk and studied each person in turn. I sat on a couch next to Chatta, looked up into my King’s face, and tried to decipher the complicated expression he wore.

  “When I gave you the impossible mission to find Chahiran magicians over a year ago,” he finally started with a wry smile, “I had no idea how successful you’d be. You’ve brought me 62 magicians including these last two. I am amazed at what you’ve done. Thank you. But I think the time has come to release you from this duty. I have been in close consultation with Vonlorisen and we both agree that the common citizens of Chahir pose no real threat to magicians anymore. The real threat is the devout members of the Star Order and the renegade Priests.”

  He turned to look directly at Xiaolang. “Captain, while I am releasing you from any duty in this regard, Vonlorisen does want to hire you on. He wants your expertise in fighting blood magic. Will you go back to Chahir?”

  Xiaolang blew out a long breath, looking at each member of his team while he did so. Each person smiled and nodded to him in agreement. By the time he reached Eagle, Xiaolang had a soft smile as well. “I think we all feel that we’d be leaving a job half-done if we went home now. Yes, Your Majesty, we will go back. What about you, Shad?”

  Shad cocked his head to the side, his palms going up and down like a balancing scale, as if he were literally weighing his options. “Hmm, beat up on raw recruits or chase down renegades…I have to admit, chasing down renegades sounds like more fun. I think I’ll tag along. Garth, Chatta?”

  Chatta and I shared a look before she drawled, “While all of you get the option, I don’t think we do. Am I right sire?”

  “I didn’t really get the option either,” he stated with a roll of the eyes. “Vonlorisen informed me that he made Garth his magical advisor, so he automatically has to go back, and I know good and well that were he goes you’ll follow. I admit that I’m pleased that this team will stay intact. I can trust that you’ll deal with this situation admirably.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Vonlorisen expects you tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Well.” Xiaolang rose to his feet. “It sounds like we have our marching orders.”

  ~*~

  Xiaolang, being the wise and compassionate man that he was, gave me enough time to hunt down Chatta’s father and talk to him. We did, after all, have the rest of the day before we had to seriously start preparing to go back to Chahir. By earth path I could get us there within half a day, so it gave me a brief window of opportunity. Considering the chaotic state of Chahir, I didn’t know when I would get another such chance.

  So I sent a message to Delheart saying that I needed to have a private conference with him, cleaned up as well as I could, and prayed to the guardians that this worked out well.

  Delheart sent a message in return that he was free right now and to come when I wished. Despite my jittery nerves, I left my palace apartment immediately and went straight to his townhouse. I wasn’t sure if it was to my advantage or detriment that I simply didn’t have the time to waste on being nervous.

  I really wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. Delheart didn’t intimidate me anymore—or at least not much. We’d been around each other and worked together often enough that I finally felt comfortable with him. But that didn’t mean I was comfortable going to this very powerful Lord and asking him to release me from the protection oath I had given him. Why? he’ll ask. The only possible answer that I could give him was the truth: “Because I’m in love with your daughter and that oath is keeping my hands tied behind my back.”

  Hardly the kind of answer a protective father wanted to hear.

  I couldn’t put this off any longer, however. For one thing, we were both busy people—it might be months before we were in the same location again. For another, Chatta had no patience, and at this point, no sense of humor. I had done this to myself—well, to both of us, really. I felt like I had to be a little patient in unraveling this knot I’d made. Chatta didn’t see it that way. She was constantly chaffing at the restrictions my oath placed on me, and I wasn’t sure who she was most frustrated with, me or her father.

  I’d discovered something recently. It was impossible for a man to be happy when the love of his life was unhappy. A wise man would deal with the problem, whatever it might be, as quickly as possible.

  Which was why I stood in front of Lon Delheart’s chambers, rehearsing my speech in my head.

  I’d faced bandits, floods, earthquakes, angry lords, soldiers, an insane Fire Mage, a sulky nreesce who can read my mind, and a bored Didi, which is more dangerous than everything else combined. Surely I could survive this too.

  Gathering my courage, I raised my hand and knocked on the heavy paneled door.

  A tense moment ticked by before the door opened. An elderly man in the Delheart livery stood there. I’d seen him before, several times, but his name escaped me at the moment. “Good evening. Is Lon Delheart in?”

  “He is Magus, and expecting you. Please come in.”

  I did, trying not to appear like a condemned man walking to his own execution.

  I was escorted to a formal sitting parlor, filled with elegant furniture designed more for looks than for comfort. Pictures of pleasantly done landscapes took up every possible inch of the walls. In this season, the fireplace in the
room hadn’t been lit and the two windows in the room were open to let in a soft breeze and warm sunlight. Delheart sat in one of the chairs reading a book, but at my entrance he laid it aside and rose to greet me.

  “Good evening, Garth.”

  “Good evening,” I returned evenly, fighting to keep anxiety out of my voice.

  He silently gestured me into a chair, which I took, but could not relax in. Nerves kept tension locked into my shoulders.

  He apparently picked up on it because there was a subtle tone of suspicion in his voice when he ventured, “You seem to have something on your mind.”

  This was hardly a social call, so I wasn’t going to pretend it was. “Yes, I do. I came here to ask you to release me from the Oath of Protection I gave you—” I held up a hand to halt his immediate protest “—so that I may offer you a different oath instead.”

  He tensed in turn, still suspicious and studied my every facial twitch through narrowed eyes. “What oath might that be?”

  I took in a deep breath. Let it out again. Here goes. “The Oath of Promise.”

  He knew just enough about Chahiran culture to understand what I was asking. “Garth, not four months ago you assured me that you were nothing more than friends with Chatta, and now you’re telling me that you want to marry my daughter?”

  “Yes.” I looked him straight in the eyes. There was no point in beating around the bush.

  He had to know that would be the answer, but actually hearing it still made him scowl. “And when did this change?” he demanded.

  It seemed like a decade ago, but when I added it up in my head, I was startled to realize it was only a few months. “Roughly three months ago.”

  “I trust that the oath you gave me checked your actions.”

  “Yes, it did.” Much to your daughter’s frustrations, I charitably refrained from saying out loud. Besides, I doubted it would help my case.

  “It can continue to keep doing so.” Delheart’s jaw set in a stubborn line, a line I recognized from seeing it on Chatta’s face.

  I sympathized. If I had a daughter like Chatta, and some young upstart had approached me like I was him, I would undoubtedly have the same reaction. Still… “I’m afraid that’s not the correct answer.”

  “You’re not going to break your word.” He was smugly confident about that.

  “I won’t have to,” I pointed out with a calmness I did not entirely feel. “Chatta is well aware of the oath that I gave you. If I fail to gain your permission to release me, she’ll hound you until you cave.”

  “You’re so confident that will work?”

  I couldn’t help but smile now. “Yes. If the past two years have taught me anything, it’s this: Whatever Chatta wants, Chatta gets. I’m sure you know this better than I do.”

  The sour look on his face conveyed intimate knowledge of the phenomena.

  I leaned slightly forward, keeping my eyes locked on his. “I know that I’m not what you want for her. I’m not a titled Lord, or wealthy enough to make up for that. I’m a Chahiran Mage, an exile, who is torn between obeying King Guin, King Vonlorisen, or the Trasdee Evondit Orra. But I think you know that none of that matters to her.”

  “Yes, I do,” he acknowledged quietly. Obviously troubled, he stood and paced the short length of the table near the couch. “I like you, Garth. You’ve proven yourself a dozen times over, in the short time I’ve spent in your company. You are a good man. But you’re also right—you’re not what I wanted for my daughter.”

  For some reason, even though I expected them, hearing those words hurt—like someone punched me in the chest, bruising my heart.

  “I also know,” he stopped in place, meeting my eyes with solemn resolve, “that you, unlike those titled or wealthy men, are worthy of her.”

  The constriction on my heart eased, letting me breathe again. “Thank you.”

  “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want my daughter to marry a wealthy man,” he added, quite stubbornly.

  Strange as it may sound, I sympathized. Every father wanted the same thing.

  Delheart fell back to pacing, face contorted in a thoughtful frown. “You said Chatta knows about this?”

  I nodded in confirmation.

  He shot me a penetrating look under furrowed eyebrows. “I bet she really raked you over the coals.”

  “I still haven’t regained full hearing in my left ear,” I drawled in response, making him grin.

  That grin faded as he paced a bit more, thinking the situation through. “Are you able to care for her? You still live there in the Palace, on Guin’s largesse.”

  “That’s actually not quite correct. I live in the Palace for Guin’s convenience, and because I frankly don’t have the time to shop for a house.” I swallowed an anticipatory smile at the surprise I was about to hand him. “Honestly, if I wished, I could buy any house I wanted and live in comfort.” I could see by his face that he didn’t believe me, so I put it into solid mathematical terms for him. “Sir, think about this. In the past two years that I’ve been here, I’ve only taken leave for a collective two months off in all. Guin pays me five golds a day that I work for him. Six hundred and seventy days, roughly, times five is…?”

  His eyes bugged out as he did the math in his head. “T-that’s over three thousand golds!” he choked out.

  “Plus interest,” I added sadistically, “because it’s been doing nothing but sitting in the bank. I haven’t really spent any of it. I haven’t had the time to.” All of my equipment and travel expenses were taken care of by Guin because I was Jaunten and his Mage. The one exception to my enforced thrift was the house that I had bought for my parents when they moved to Hain.

  Delheart was apparently doing more calculations, and the total that popped up in his head made his knees buckle. I sat back, enjoying his expression. Surprising Delheart took skill, timing, and a lot of luck. It was why I enjoyed it so much when I pull it off.

  When he finally managed to get his mouth working again, he sounded very strained. “Garth, most titled Lords don’t have that much money. I thought you said you weren’t wealthy!”

  “I’m not, in comparison to some. But I think you can agree that I am well able to provide for your daughter.”

  “And then some,” he agreed, voice strained. “But that brings up another point. As Guin’s Mage, you are constantly away from home.”

  “That won’t last much longer,” I pointed out. “For one thing, Trev’nor will come into his powers very soon. I think that within the next five years, I could take him in as an apprentice, and a few years later, he will be taking half of the work load from my shoulders. That doesn’t include the very real possibility that we could find another Earth Mage in Chahir before then. We have more Mages now than in any other age in our history, sir. I don’t have to do everything all at once anymore.”

  “That’s very true,” he agreed slowly. “You’ll still be away from home for days at a time.”

  I forced myself to be patient. “That’s the case with any magician. Respectfully, sir, you yourself are called away from home on business days—sometimes weeks—at a time. Besides, Chatta is my partner, and we are usually sent on missions together. While I might be gone from home frequently, Chatta will be right there with me.”

  He had no good riposte to that.

  “I’m running out of good objections,” he observed to himself, a rueful smile slowly spreading over his face. “The truth is, Garth, that’s my little girl. And I hate to think of her as some grownup, married woman.”

  “I think I can understand that,” I answered cautiously. “I have two sisters, and I feel the same way about them. In fact, I don’t think there’s any man on this earth who is really good enough for either one of them.”

  “Yes, you do understand a little of what I’m going through,” he acknowledged wryly. “But you had a valid point earlier, Garth, perhaps the most important point in our discussion this evening. My Chatta is a strong willed woman, and what she w
ants, she gets. Apparently, she wants you. I’m going to save myself a prolonged headache and skip arguing with her about it.”

  He said this with such dry humor that I didn’t take any offense. “Wise of you sir. That’s the way I deal with differences of opinions with Chatta too.”

  “Just do me one favor?”

  He had been far more reasonable than I expected, so I decided to hear him out. “What would that be?”

  “Wait a while? I know that you’re both responsible adults, but you’re still very young adults. I think you need to mature a bit.”

  “We think so as well,” I assured him. “Chatta and I discussed a lengthy engagement, somewhere around six months or so.” Which would put us at about nineteen when we got married.

  Delheart looked extremely relieved. “That sounds fine. Now, is there anything formal that I need to say?”

  “Not really. Do you release me from the Oath of Protection?”

  He nodded firmly. “I do.”

  “Then I give you this oath in its place.” Even though I wanted this, and I had no doubt in my mind about that, I still felt my stomach begin to twist itself into knots. I was taking a great deal of responsibility onto myself, after all—the happiness and wellbeing of another soul. I ignored it as best I could, and willed my voice to remain strong and steady. Standing, I extended a hand to him, pronouncing the words of the oath as I did so. “On my honor, and by the name of my family, I will take L-Chattamoinita Delheart under the protection of my name, and swear to cherish and protect her for the rest of my life. Sven Delheart, father to L-Chattamoinita Delheart, will you accept my oath?”