22. Declan

Chapter twenty-two

Declan

" The Irina?" I breathed out.

"Yes, dummy, that Irina. Now let her finish!" órla swatted my arm with her wing.

I laughed. "Kinda bossy tonight, aren't ya, little one?"

Kels? cleared her throat, and both our heads snapped up.

"Yes, that Irina," she said, one brow lifted like an annoyed schoolteacher.

The image shifted to a seventeen-year-old girl with hair as black as night.

"She wasn't always the woman we know from history. Both of her parents were physikers, the Mute form of a Healer. When her power manifested, she followed their path, choosing Healing as her passion. By all accounts, she was determined to save the world from disease and suffering. She studied the Healing arts, ignoring most other magical talents, becoming the most adept Healer of her time. At her zenith, she was adored and respected, worshiped as a benevolent goddess descended from the heavens to save her people.

"A group of other Mages grew jealous. They feared her growing influence and believed her compassionate goodness to be little more than a ruse to win over the hapless masses and drive them to invest her with power to rule.

"They determined to break her spirit, slaughtering her parents while she watched in horror."

"That's terrible," I said, staring at the young girl in the mist with fresh eyes. "It almost makes me—"

"Do not feel sorry for her," Kels? said. "What they did was terrible. What followed . . . what she did . . ."

My mother stared into the Well so long I thought she might not continue. Then the image shifted again, revealing a gray-haired Mage spread on the cobbles of a road. His eyes were wide, and his body shook as he clutched his chest. Irina stood above him, magic flaring brightly in her palm.

"Irina was the first to use Healing magic to harm another, stopping the heart of one of her rival Mages. After that, she threw herself into the study of Elemental magics, the powers of fire, earth, water, and air. Those who opposed her burst into flame at her whim or drowned while drinking a glass of water. She purged every Mage from the land now known as the Kingdom of Spires, killing or forcing them into exile. Yet, every taste of power left her starved for more."

The mist-fueled image morphed again, this time revealing brutal battlefields covered in broken bodies and blood. Flames rained from the sky. Men ran and screamed and died.

I was grateful the Well offered no sound.

Kels?'s voice darkened. "She cowed the leaders of a fractured land, uniting them for the first time beneath her banner, declaring war on all who sought to be free. You were taught stories of the Kingdom War, chivalrous tales of men on horseback fighting for honor and freedom, but what I recall was damnation itself brought to life.

"Death rode beneath Irina's banner."

With the echoing of her words, the cavern fell silent.

Even the mist quelled at Kels?'s memory.

When she resumed, she spoke softly. "You know of Arch Mage Quin's role in Irina's defeat. He . . . he was young then, but the Phoenix answered his call, and we were saved."

"The Phoenix?" I asked.

"We lost so many in that war." She nodded. "What followed is known by only two people alive today: Velius Quin and me. Declan, you may never reveal what I tell you now, not to anyone, for any reason. Do you understand?"

Now I nodded, unable to speak .

"While the mountains still burned, Quin gathered the Mages who had survived. Only a handful of us remained. He led us through the gate in the mountains and sealed us inside this cavern, declaring none would leave until we found a solution, a way to prevent another Irina from ever threatening the world again."

Five Mages appeared in the mist, standing beside the Well, next to where I stood. One was a girl of undeterminable age whose skin was rich and dark. My eyes darted from the image to my mother. I felt the whole world lodge in my throat.

"After an eternity of debate, a plan was formed. We would reshape magic itself, stripping godlike power from the few while granting unique abilities to the many. The world would be safe from any one person bent on total control, while enriching millions of lives through a single-talent Gift."

I rocked back. "So . . . you created Gifts?"

She nodded, her gaze still distant. "Reshaping magic required a terrible sacrifice. All of us, the last living Mages, poured our power into the Well to effect that change. All but two were consumed, and the life of the last was forfeit."

"Wait. Quin is still Arch Mage," I said, slotting the pieces together. "That makes you the one that was forfeit. What does that even mean? I mean, you're right here. I'm looking at you, talking to you. That means you can't have died."

"For the plan to endure beyond our generation, one of us had to offer ourselves to magic, to become its protector. Declan"—she appeared to gather herself and looked directly into my eyes—"I am the Keeper of Magic. I gave my life to guard the Well and tend the flow of Gifts to humanity."

My mouth opened, then closed.

"Wait . . . I'm confused . . . You're the Keeper ?"

"Yes."

"Okay . . . but . . . who was the old man in the hut then? The one who gave me the test?"

"The old man you saw was an illusion, part of elaborate measures designed to frighten away intruders and protect the Well. He is not real."

Kels? took my hands in hers. "Declan, in a thousand years, I have only left this island once, to deliver you and Keelan to the Mages in Saltstone. Within days of leaving these shores, I could feel the power that sustains my life begin to fail."

"And if you died, magic . . ." My words hung in the air.

A thought struck, and I leaned forward. "Hold on. You delivered us to Saltstone? And you had never left the island? Does that mean we were born here ?"

Her smile flowed to her eyes. "Yes. "

"But Keelan . . . he told me stories about our childhood, about you and Father. He never mentioned a cave or magical lake or any of this. And . . . what about our father?"

Sadness mingled with something deeper as her eyes drifted once more. "I met your father thirty years ago. Arch Mage Quin sent him as an envoy to Mother Larinda. He had just concluded an audience with her when he stumbled down the stairs and knocked me off my feet—literally and figuratively." She smiled, and her voice became even more dreamlike than the mist's images had been. "He was tall, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw—and golden hair that fell to his neck . . . so much like yours."

She reached up and touched my hair, though her eyes were not settled on me but on the past. "He had this smile—the power of the Well couldn't compare to the magic in your father's smile. He was such a good man."

I watched, letting her savor the memories in silence.

"You and Keelan were born here—down in the village. Larinda delivered each of you and became a godmother to you both. Hardly a day passed that one of you wasn't distracting her from her duties—usually Keelan , for the record. For some unknown reason, that boy thought it was hilarious to escape after a bath and streak through her garden."

"Wait. Keelan was funny? Of all the stories you've told me today, that's the most unbelievable. You've got to be talking about a different brother. "

"Oh, no. Keelan was something as a child." She walked to the Well and peered down at the swirling liquid. "Your father died a few years after we gave you to the Mages."

I laid a hand on her shoulder. Kels? reached up and placed hers atop mine.

"He was such a good man. So kind and gentle. I see him in you, Declan, especially his smile."

I squeezed her hand but couldn't stop a question from escaping. "Why doesn't Keelan remember any of this? He remembers you and our father, experiences with you, but nothing of this place or any of the people here. At least, he's never said anything about them."

A sudden thought stung like the crack of a whip.

"Does he know?" I couldn't keep the ache from my voice. "Has he been lying to me?"

"No, Declan . . . no." She sighed. "Part of the spell used to transform magic, the spell that also made me the Keeper, includes protections for this island, the Path, and the Well itself. You met the illusionary Keeper and his test. Another more powerful thread in that spell wipes any memory of this place from those who enter this chamber. Keelan doesn't remember this place because the Well took those memories from him when he left the island. What memories he has of your father and me . . . well, I had to leave him something of us."

"So, I won't remember you when I leave? Or this place? "

"You will remember what I teach you about magic and how to use your Light, and you will remember the village and its people. The gates likely have a similar Enchantment erasing your memory of their existence, but you would have to ask the Arch Mage about that." She brought my hand to her lips and held it there as she spoke. "But . . . you will have no memory of me, the Keeper, or the Path."

It felt like a thousand knives had stabbed into my gut. Had she not held my hand, I might've leaped into the Well and begged for death. I wanted to scream and thrash, to batter the stupid crystals and shatter them across the floor. I wanted to curse the Spirits for ever granting me life.

This was all too much.

To learn I have magic, to find my mother, and now to learn I would lose her all over again?

"Declan, there was never a day you and Keelan were not in my thoughts. Leaving you broke my heart, but duty is a privilege that exacts a price. To save this world, I gave up everything. Your duty demands the same."

I removed my hand from hers and pressed my palms to my eyes, trying to stop the tears.

"Declan, look at me. There will be time to discuss family matters later. I need you to pay attention." Her tone commanded my gaze, and I watched as Kels? kneeled and waved her hand over the Well's opening again.

Words shimmered into existence, glittering letters etched in the swirling liquid below .

Seven scattered as lands shattered.

Bind the heir. Make diamonds bleed.

Speak the words.

E vesh Irina.

"This is a prophecy, or some kind of instruction, from the time after Irina's death. It foretells her return and her renewed quest for power and vengeance. It does not say how or when she is supposed to return, but we fear the cycle of her resurrection has already begun. If successful, we believe she would wield unrivaled power, reclaiming her magic from before our spell, possibly with the power to undo all of our protections."

She paused, as if letting the implications of that future sink in.

"Wait. You're saying magic could be wiped out for everyone but her? Everyone ?"

She nodded. "If our spell vanished, so would the Gift. She would remain the only Mage in the world. Millions would become her slaves—or die."

I thought back to the Keeper's vision and knew it to be true. "What about you? You're sustained by the Well's magic?"

"I would vanish as well." Kels? drew a breath of mist and held it for a long moment before letting it out, as if smoking a savory pipe. "Magic seeks balance. Quin and I believed it would provide something—or someone —to counter Irina's terrible potential should she rise once more."

She gazed into the mist, then back into my eyes. "órla, the Golden Princess and the Daughter of Magic, bonded with you and speaks to you . Magic's breath flows through you . You are the son of the Keeper, the Crown Prince in the royal line of magic itself."

Her eyes glistened with moisture and pride. "My beautiful son, this is going to be hard to believe, but you are that balance, the weapon magic provided with the power to counter Irina."