Chapter 16

 

            They quit two hours later. The sounds of the town awakening and the sun rising a good foot or two above the trees halted Geoff’s instruction. When Marcus had asked why, Geoff had smiled.

            “Do you really want anyone watching you falling under my sword as often as you have in the last hour?”

            Marcus snorted, “I haven’t fallen as much as I did at first.”

            Geoff’s smiled widened. “True, but the heat will not improve the practice. We don’t need to push your training too far yet. That can wait for when we join the others.”

            Marcus shook his head, sweat dripping from his hair. “I can’t wait for that.”

            Geoff laughed, “Go wash up and meet me in the study in ten minutes. I have something for you.”

            Marcus paled, “When did they get one?”

            “I don’t know, but I have a book somewhere in the study to help you identify them and to find which ones you still need. It might also help answer some of your questions you haven’t been ready to ask me yet.”

            “There’s a book on the medallions?” Marcus asked, ignoring the last part.

            Geoff laughed, “There is a book for just about everything, Marcus.” He turned towards the inn, calling over his shoulder, “Ten minutes.”

 

          Marcus walked into the study, stopping short as stacks of books zipped past his face. Quickly shutting the door, he inched along the wall as scrolls, pamphlets, and books shuffled back and forth across the room. Hearing Geoff mumbling off to his right, Marcus stepped towards the sound, dropping to the floor as three thick volumes raced at his head to settle on the shelf behind him.

            “Geoff, what’s going on?”

            When the man didn’t respond, Marcus realized the fluttering pages around them drowned out any conversation. He breathed in, focusing his thoughts around one idea. As the idea solidified, Marcus reached out a hand, muttering the one spell he knew worked.

            “Sguir!”

            “How often have you had to use that spell?”

            Startled, Marcus looked up at his teacher. Geoff’s eyes were studying the spell’s form, even as the papers he had been looking at revolved around him.

            “I don’t know, a few times a day at least. It’s the only thing I could cast without getting into trouble.”

            “Obviously,” Geoff said drily. “However, we’ll have to work on this one as well. The raw form might function well for now, but as we continue, you’ll want more control on it.”

            “More control?” Marcus asked as he tried getting up. Geoff pushed on the spell at the same time, sending the room back into chaos and Marcus back to the floor. Geoff crouched next to Marcus’ side.

            “I shouldn’t have been able to do that if you had more control on it.”

            “How are you getting around without getting attacked?” Marcus asked.

            “Control, now how about getting off the floor?”

            “Is it safe?”

            Geoff laughed. Holding out his hand, he said, “It will be.”

            Marcus grabbed onto the help, pulling himself to his feet. The books and papers detoured around him as he followed Geoff to the desk. He sat down, the book from the day before immediately reappearing at his side, along with another book he faintly recognized.

            Ignoring the first book, Marcus picked up the heavier one, his eyes taking in the plain brown leather cover and crisp pages. Glancing up quickly and noticing Geoff occupied with papers on his desk, Marcus opened the book and blinked in surprise. Though the script was in a language he had never seen before, Marcus found he could read the spells and explanations easily.

            He continued flipping through the pages, recognizing spells he had cast before even though he had not known he could do so. I shouldn’t be able to read this or understand what is happening.

            Why not?

            Marcus looked up, “I have never seen this stuff before nor do I know the language it’s in.”

            “It’s one of the ancient languages, slowly dying out along with the customs and way of life. You use it every time you mutter an incantation whether you believe you know it or not. Keep going and see what else it has.”

            Marcus went back to the book, flipping through several more pages until he recognized one of the symbols on the page. He flattened the book onto the desk, Geoff barely catching his own work before it flew off, and removed the medallions from around his neck. The Kent medallion went first, followed closely by Lady Otis’ and the one from the stable master and his apprentices in Sirhc.

As he read the descriptions along the sides of the symbols, another medallion plopped onto the page. Marcus picked it up, holding it in his hand a moment as his thumb traced along the craved picture. “From Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Ted?”

Geoff nodded, “Which one is it?”

Marcus placed it on the last symbol of the page, the words family emboldened next to it. As he looked them over, his eyes turned to the next page as three more symbols caught his eye. He would have to get these other three before being able to go after Max safely.

As he leaned over the pages, noticing script too small to see where he was, another medallion fell free from his shirt. Geoff caught the flash of power emitting from it and turned to see the symbol etched into the wood before it faded from view. Geoff blinked, recognizing the symbol, his mind drifting to the past.

He had sat beneath a wide oak tree in the front courtyard; his father sitting beside him, teaching him the correct strokes and bits of spells to make the design appear as he wanted. The wood between his hands, a gift from his Uncle Misha, was to become a match to the fabled medallions for his brother. The child’s birthday was in two days and the little boy had broken his leg falling down the outer steps the day before. The healer said the leg would not be ready to move about for at least a week and Geoff wanted to cheer his brother up any way he could.

He remembered how his brother had reacted to the gift. He had never taken it off, even when sleeping and it had disappeared along with his brother all those years ago. If this medallion was indeed the same one, than his brother had returned as his father and Uncle Gregory believed and life had just gotten more stressful.

“Where did you get that one?” Geoff heard himself ask.

Marcus looked up. “Where’d I get what?”

Geoff leaned over the desk, pulling the wooden disk up to Marcus’ eyes, “Where did you get this?”

Marcus moved backwards into the chair, pulling the medallion away from Geoff’s fingers. His words remained frozen in his mouth until the wood hit his chest with a thud.

“I’ve had it ever since I can remember. Why?”

“Do you remember the eighth medallion I mentioned before we arrived at Trumpet’s Echo?”

“The one that was lost?” Marcus asked.

Geoff nodded, “It seems it was not as lost as I believed it was.”

Marcus blinked. “Do you mean this is the one you were talking about? But it’s not even really a medallion; it has no design on it or anything.”

Geoff held out his hand, “May I?”

Reluctantly, Marcus pulled it over his head and handed it over. Instead of taking it, Geoff placed a hand over the top of it. Surprised, Marcus watched as the carving he had worn out ages ago reformed. “How’d you do that?”

“This medallion was not a part of the original set. As you can see, it isn’t in that book at all. When I was a child I had created it, somehow linking it to this set without realizing it.”

“Than how did I get it?” Marcus asked his eyes glued to the wood.

Because I gave it to you, Geoff thought silently, releasing the medallion as he sat back. “We will have to find out. For now, I would just be thankful the set is now complete and you won’t have to worry about Max using the final medallion against you.”

He would tell Marcus the truth, regardless of what the others wished, but only when they would both be ready for the news.

 

Marcus stared at the wood, his thumb tracing along the design, as his mind wandered to the smoky past. “I’ve always had this with me, ever since before I landed in that home surrounded by people who didn’t want me. It was my protection until I learned how to protect myself.”

“What do you mean?” Geoff prodded, not wanting to break Marcus’ concentration, but wanting to know more about his life.

“I would grab onto it when I needed to feel safe. It formed a barrier between me and the enemy, even Max couldn’t get to me when I held this in my hands.” Marcus blinked, slumping into the chair. “I know it sounds crazy. I mean how could this possibly protect me?”

“If you read farther into that book, you will discover each medallion has a different purpose. Even though the one you wear was not intentionally a part of the original set, it carries the same attributes the others do. It would make sense that it did what you needed it for the most.”

Marcus looked up. “Did you intend for it to be like that? A protection for your brother when you couldn’t be there? Is that why it works like that?”

“When dealing with magick embedded into items such as the medallions, nothing is ever as it was intended. Most often the item takes its reaction from the owner, not the maker.” Even if that was my purpose for creating it, Geoff thought silently. It worked as it was supposed to, it’s brought you home alive.

“Could this be the reason I was able to bring us back, even though I couldn’t remember myself?”

“It’s quite possible. You were trying to protect Astra when you returned here.”

“But why would the medallion react to my wanting to protect Astra if it only protected me?”

“Were you going to leave her by herself?”

“Of course not.”

“Than you were in as much danger as she was, thus the medallion reacted.”

“Do the other medallions do the same thing?”

“Each one reacts differently I think. That book should explain what you wish to know. After you’re finished reading, if you still have questions, come find me and I’ll try to answer them.”

Recognizing the dismissal, Marcus gathered the medallions and put them back on. The one he had gotten from Geoff hiding behind them. He closed the book and added the one from his childhood on top, planning to take them both with him. Before he could get up, Geoff stopped him.

“I expect you to read the book, Marcus. This may be the last chance you have to enjoy the peace.”

Marcus nodded, “Don’t worry, sir. This is one opportunity I wouldn’t dream of passing up.”

He walked away from the desk, waiting for Geoff to ask what he meant. When the man remained silent, Marcus slipped out the door- closing it behind him. Banishing the storybook to the bag upstairs, Marcus made his way outside. Yesterday while walking, he had found the perfect spot to disappear while the sun was still up.

A small alcove, created by rose vines and a curve of the building, sat in the shade of one of the few oak trees still in the courtyard. A stone bench, carved out of the stone from the building, allowed anyone who could find it to relax from the day’s work. He headed there now, hoping that Geoff’s orders would not change the moment he sat down. The history of his magick lay within the pages of this strange book. Marcus needed to find out more about himself before he went any farther into the training he had agreed to. If nothing else, the book might give him ideas on how to disappear without the man tailing him when things became too difficult and he left.

Finding the alcove empty, Marcus leaned back against the wall, setting the barrier around him and melding it into the building so it would not attract attention. He turned to the book then, ignoring the fear building within from casting another unknown spell. Had he been with anyone else, especially Max, the fear would be justified- now, however; he needed to push it aside. Geoff had told him to use the power within him. Even if the spell just came to him, there would be no repercussions with this teacher unless Marcus tried to use the magick against him.

Breathing in, trying to expel the anxiety, Marcus turned his eyes to the crisp letters before him and became lost in the first page of the book.