Jaunten (Advent Mage Cycle) Read online

  Jaunten

  Book One of the Advent Mage Cycle

  Honor Raconteur

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to my family, for letting me soundboard ideas off them, and for putting up with my general craziness while writing.

  Special thanks to Velvet and Jenny—you guys are so good about putting up with my whining when I'm stuck, and for getting me unstuck. This is to prove that there really is method to my madness.

  Many hugs and kisses to LaNelle and Pam. I really couldn't have done it without both of you. Your feedback and thoughts just polished the story to a shine. Again, thanks ever so much.

  Also, to Ken—even though he wasn't at first invited to read it, his approval and support meant the world. Thanks for not only reading it, but telling me what you thought!

  To Jarrett, for finally reading it! Your comments about me “charming the reader” gave a much-needed boost of confidence to face all those dreaded rejection letters.

  To Peggy and Dave, who kept asking when they could read it. Your real interest kept me motivated in doing those hated last-minute edits.

  And last but not least, many thanks to Anthony for being a detail-oriented tyrant. You caught mistakes no one else did and the story wouldn’t flow as well without you.

  “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.”

  Anais Nin

  Chapter One: Trouble

  Ugh! Grassland.

  I hate open, exposed areas like this. I have never been particularly comfortable in the countryside. It makes me feel vulnerable and magnifies the feeling of being utterly alone. I’ve always preferred cities with their crowds of busy people and familiar marketplaces. As I sit here surveying the endless sea of waving grass, I am especially uncomfortable right now. I can’t be sure if there are soldiers hunting for me or not. That open space won’t give me any sort of cover to hide in if they are. Still, there is no other choice. I must go forward.

  I have to get to the capitol of Hain and I have to do it as quickly as possible. My abilities have been growing by leaps and bounds for the past several weeks. They are rapidly becoming too much for me to control and I won’t be able to hide them for much longer. I’d had a bad dream last night and my instinctive reaction nearly uprooted the forest around me. The whole ground shook under me so violently that it nearly vibrated me right into my campfire. I barely managed to calm the magic before it did any permanent damage. But what about next time? I was certain there would be a next time.

  No, the sooner I get to any magical academy in Del’Hain for help, the better. I absolutely must have training and I must have it now. I touched the money pouch hidden in my pocket and prayed yet again that it would be enough. My father had shoved it into my hand before I left the house. Was it really only four days ago? It was supposed to pay for my training, but we had no idea how much that training would cost. There are no schools anywhere in Chahir that teach magic, so there was nothing to compare it with. I shoved the pouch deeper into my pocket and straightened my shoulders.

  Worrying about that now wouldn’t do me any good. I needed to focus all of my energy on getting into Hain first. I’d passed through the Blackover Mountains, which were on the border of Chahir, but I wasn’t entirely sure if I was safe yet. Precisely where did the border of Chahir end and Hain begin? There were no markers out here, and my map was a little vague, making it difficult to predict minor details like distance. I have rarely been out of my hometown of Tobadorage before, so I wasn’t even sure if I was going in the right direction. I’ve been known to get lost in my own neighborhood.

  Massaging my throbbing temple with one hand, I pulled my map out for another look. Okay, I had passed through mountains, and I had flatlands in front of me as far as the eye could see. According to the map—and I was taking this with more than a grain of salt—I was nearing the border of Hain. Was I clear of Chahir now?

  Did it matter if I was?

  My country was single-minded in obeying the edict to eradicate all magic within our borders. Not only would my life be forfeit because of my awakening magic, but my family that produced me as well. I’d left secretly in the dead of night, with what little I could carry, to avoid raising questions we didn’t want asked. My father would make it known that I had traveled to another town to apprentice with a distant relative. There was no other choice. Judging from the magnitude of the magical accidents I was experiencing, my potential was huge. It was just a question of time before someone would notice.

  A question weighing heavily on my mind: would Chahiran soldiers, once on my trail, cease their pursuit at the border, or would they run me down at all costs? If they killed me beyond the borders of Chahir, out here in the wilderness, who would know?

  Exasperated with this pointless speculation, I refolded the map and shoved it back into my pack. “Worry about that sort of stuff later,” I scolded myself. Unbidden, my father’s strong voice echoed in my mind: “Don’t waste your time looking for trouble, son. It can find you all on its own.”

  The memory of his words almost made me smile. I’d certainly found plenty of trouble without meaning to.

  Enough stalling. My only hope for a future awaited me beyond those plains. Hopefully I’d see the Elkhorn River soon, which would be a nice landmark. At least then I’d have something definite to follow.

  Twin suns beat down on my head, and as the day progressed, the warm spring day rapidly became an unbearably hot spring day. My hometown of Tobadorage was four days north of here and usually much cooler than this, even during the height of summer. Apparently I would have a new climate to get used to. I shrugged out of my heavy coat and tied it to the straps of my traveling bag. Still a little too warm, I then rolled up my sleeves for good measure. At least the wide brimmed black hat I was wearing kept the sun out of my eyes, even if its color did make my head even hotter.

  I was considering the prospect of finding some shade, a laughable possibility since there weren’t even any bushes, when warning bells started screaming in the back of my head. I froze on the spot with the sure conviction that I was not alone out here. As strange as it might sound, I could sense something nearby, very nearby. That was very unexpected and I wondered if it was an effect of my magic. I had never experienced this before. It was so erratic, coming in brief sensations, but enough to get my full attention. For a split second I had to wonder—what kind of predators live in Hain? Granted, it was foolish in the extreme to venture forth with so little knowledge, but there was little information to be had about the country of Hain.

  Slinging the quarterstaff off my shoulder, I crept forward with all of my senses extended. I couldn't see anything, but with this thick grass, I wasn't expecting to see anything until I was right on top of it. You could probably conceal a large griffin in this kind of grass without any trouble! I was depending on my acute hearing to warn me if something was coming my way.

  Minutes slowly dragged by before I heard it; the soft gasp of pain and a grunt of effort. There was an unmistakable odor of blood, barely discernable above the pungent smell of earth and vegetation. Shrieking hinges, this didn't bode well!

  I was truly torn between locating the source, or steering well clear of it. On the one hand, it might be a trap, but on the other, I didn't like leaving an unknown behind me. In the end, my propensity for getting into trouble kicked in and I went searching for the source of the smell. I covered the area carefully, following my nose and my ears until I nearly stumbled right over what I was looking for.

  Hello, trouble!

  The wounded man lying there couldn't have been my senior by more than a handful of years. His hair was thick and black, matted at his temple by congealed blood. His skin was an unhealt
hy color and he seemed grey with pain. With the light clothing he wore, and the make-shift bandages over his arms, chest, and thigh, he looked like a recently risen spirit from a battlefield. As I stood over him, shading his face, he turned his head slightly and impaled me with his eyes.

  "Help…me…!"

  I couldn’t tell if it was a plea or an order. He spoke Chahirese fluently, possibly better than I myself did, which surprised me. I really, really wanted to just walk away. My survival instinct was screaming for me to go. But gazing back into those eyes, I found that I just couldn't do it. Something inside me rebelled at even considering leaving someone to die out here alone, without at least trying to help.

  Curses, I can find trouble more surely than water can fall from the sky. I knelt at his side, unhooked my canteen, and supported his head as he swallowed some of the tepid water. Between his blood loss, and the heat generated by the twin suns, I was sure he was dehydrated. He gulped it greedily, but I didn't allow him to have too much. For one thing, I wasn't sure where the next refill for that canteen might be. For the other thing, drinking too quickly might cause him to convulse and vomit.

  Without a word, I set my pack down next to him, thinking furiously as I did so. This man could not be moved, I couldn't go fetch help, and we couldn't just sit here and bake under the twin suns. For a moment I pondered the situation, weighed my options, and then received a flash of inspiration. Retrieving my quarterstaff, I focused on it, willing it to stretch. I'd done this before, largely by accident, but I half remembered how it worked.

  The familiar wood in my hands suddenly shot out in both directions. Oops. I hadn't intended for it to grow quite that much…ah well. I guess it was better to have too much than too little. I broke it in four places over my knee, in usable sections.

  The Hainian watched me with half lidded eyes, taking in stride what he had just witnessed. I was definitely more shaken than he appeared to be. I went about setting up a makeshift canopy, using the four newly made poles and my blanket. I had to improvise some more, using my unpredictable power, before I could get it to stay upright. When I was certain it would stand, I carefully dragged him under it.

  The silence was thick between us as I removed his bandages and attempted to temporarily patch him up with my meager supplies. The more skin I uncovered, the more astonished I was that this man was still alive. The damage to his body was horrific and cruel. He must possess an amazing will to live.

  As I was securing the last bandage around his arm, he stirred slightly and spoke in a labored rasp. "I am Elis of the Jaunten."

  Freezing in place, my eyes flew up to his face. Jaunten? I'd heard of them, of course. What Chahiran child hadn't? The Jaunten were legendary and by traditional accounts to be feared. Because of the recent changes in my own life, with my magic awakening within me, I could see just how wrong the things I was taught were.

  Nearly two hundred years before, there had been a fierce, wide-spread Magic War within the borders of Chahir. No one remembered what caused the conflagration, only that there were challenges, and curses, and battles everywhere. In an attempt to keep the general population from being massacred, the Chahiran King ordered all of the magicians to leave Chahir. If they wanted to kill each other, fine, but he didn't want his citizens caught in the crossfire of their battles. They were all rounded up as a group, including their families, and removed by force to protect lives and property from magical backlash. The war was relocated to a long, narrow, isolated spit of land, far to the north. No one is sure even now how the war ended; only that after a few weeks, all sound and light emanating from that desolate island abruptly ceased, forever.

  There continued to be lingering side effects with the people on the main continent long after the fighting stopped. Some of the people near the coast developed what they called "blood memory." Everything that they knew, all of the knowledge and wisdom they possessed, was passed along to their children at birth. Each generation became wiser and more intelligent because they knew everything that their previous ancestors had known. Some said that the huge concentration of magic on that island had somehow splashed over to the main continent and was responsible for this change. It might have been true, but the important part was the dark whispers that followed these people like an ancient curse. Jealousy was more likely the root of the rumors, but within five generations, the policy of governing magic in Chahir changed. No magic was allowed, not even healing magic, and anyone known to possess it was executed. This law extended to the immediate family of the magician because they had the genetic possibility of producing another magician.

  The people of "blood memory" were no longer safe even though they possessed no overt magic and were hunted like rabid animals. It didn't stop the children of the genetic blood memory—if anything, they became stronger and more determined to survive. Each succeeding generation became better fighters and more adept in frustrating their enemies. Within ten generations, the survivors banded together and forged their own clan, calling themselves Jaunten. In the old tongue, it meant "blood inheritance."

  What happened to the Jaunten after they left Chahir is mostly speculation. No one but the Hainian King and the Jaunten themselves know for certain. The legend holds that when the Jaunten reached the Hainian King, they offered their services for his protection. The King immediately accepted their offer and made them his strong right hand. They remain a force to be reckoned with, and it is considered foolhardy in the extreme to cross them.

  To find a Jaunten here, so close to the border and so badly wounded, flooded me with dread. If someone dared to harm the King's elite guard, then they were very desperate and dangerous men indeed. Just what had I gotten myself into now?

  Slowly relaxing back onto my haunches, I remembered my manners and answered quietly, "Thank you for the gift of your name. I am Rhebengarthen."

  "I can see by the expression on your face that you recognize what I am."

  I nodded solemnly.

  "I carry a vital message for the King. It must reach him, but I know that I will not survive to deliver it myself."

  I didn't like where this was going, but again found that I couldn't make myself get up and leave. "I am heading to your capitol. Entrust it to me and I pledge to you my oath as a Rheben that I will deliver it."

  "I'm afraid that it isn't that simple." He sighed wearily, pain flicking across his face. "The people that are hunting me will assume that you have the dispatch now and target you. I can see that you have Mage ability, but do you have control?"

  "No," I admitted readily. With all that had occurred in the past few weeks, I hadn’t had had time for serious thought about my magic. This dying man’s pronouncement that I was a Mage shocked me and brought absolute clarity. Did he assume I was a Mage because I hadn't used any tools to focus my magic? Even as ignorant of magic as I was with my Chahiran background, I knew that there were differences between Wizards and Mages. The most telling difference was that a Wizard required wands, potions and tools of focus to achieve anything magical. A Mage didn't need anything but his own inherent strength.

  He swore softly. "I'd hoped…” his voice trailed off for a moment as he thought. “Well, there is still another way, something I can give you, so that you will have a fighting chance of surviving."

  For a gravely injured man, he moved like lightning. One moment he was inert, lying there in obvious agony, the next, he had snatched a dagger from his waist, cleanly slashing the back of my hand. White hot pain seared through my nerves and I tried in vain to yank my hand away. Ellis lifted his own hand, still coated in blood, and pressed it firmly to my open wound.

  I had no time to wonder what he was about, or curse at him, or do anything but hiss in pain. The last memory I had was a sick, sinking sensation, before the world tilted and finally faded to black.

  ~*~

  Owww.

  Very, very gingerly I opened my eyes. It was twilight, and that was a very good thing at the moment. Bright sunlight would have been murder on my sensit
ive eyes. Cautiously I turned my head in an attempt to regain my bearings. The make-shift canopy I had fashioned was still over my head, so I hadn't moved much. Elis was lying next to me, sleeping fitfully, if his twitching hand and mouth was anything to go by. Had I fallen asleep…?

  No. As soon as I thought it, the memory of what he had done flashed before my eyes. No, he'd cut me and then…. It was so odd. Knowledge started to pour into my mind; knowledge I should not have possessed. I lifted my right hand, staring transfixed at the fresh gash. Without asking, I knew exactly what he had done, and why he had done it.

  I was now a Jaunten.

  He'd made me a Jaunten. By contaminating my blood with his, he'd passed the blood inheritance to me, and with it, all the knowledge that he had acquired from the time of his clan’s “awakening.” The combined knowledge of fifteen generations of men and women, before me, was now in my blood.

  By the stars! I can really get into the most absurd situations!

  "Rhebengarthen?"

  I turned my head to look at Elis and tried my best to be upset with him. I couldn't dredge up a smidgeon of anger, or even a little righteous indignation. I knew why he'd done what he'd done—and he was right. A part of me hated to admit it, but he was right. I had no knowledge of how to survive out in the wilds, how to fight, or how to avoid the people now hunting me. Without the knowledge of the Jaunten, I would probably be long dead this time tomorrow. It wasn't only because the message he carried for the King had to be delivered. He'd done it to repay my kindness in helping him by giving me every means possible to survive.

  I dredged up a tired smile. "You could have at least warned me."

  "Sorry." He did seem sincerely apologetic. "Did it hurt?"

  Did it hurt? I searched my clouded memory, but my body retained no memory of the pain. No, it hadn't really hurt. More like… "I feel like I've been dumped into freezing water and left to dry out in the sun."