Chapter 24

Twenty-Four

"Sorcerers have an insatiable curiosity that, if not checked, will turn into lust for knowledge only to gain power. Those that go to the dark must be destroyed lest their poison affects others." — Sorcery in the Age of Reason.

Augustus stayed with Mara for the rest of the afternoon. They ate and talked and tormented Athanasius. It was the closest to normality that Augustus had felt for a long time. It comforted him and also drove the thorn of longing that little bit deeper into his heart.

A new and even more intense storm hit that afternoon. Lightning split the sky, and all of Melbourne shook under the relentless thunder.

Sirens were screaming in the distance as the floods and winds laid a path of destruction across the city. The power went out at seven o’clock and didn’t go back on.

They had decided that midnight was the most auspicious time to try and do the tea session. At least, that’s what Augustus claimed.

In truth, he wanted to put it off as long as possible. Mara had given him an understanding look and kissed him until he couldn’t think of anything else but her.

There was no avoiding it anymore. Augustus stood in front of Saint Anea’s black statue and lit incense and the many candles at her feet.

"I’ve never prayed to a saint before. You know, us Protestant raised children are a lost cause that way," he whispered softly, lighting another stick of incense. "But I pray to you now, Anea. I don’t ask for a miracle for myself, but please protect Mara. Help show her when to use her miracle and let it be for good. Help her live through it and be remembered again. She’s someone worth remembering."

Augustus looked into the saint’s face and felt the calmness in her gaze. He startled as Athanasius jumped up next to the altar.

"There might be hope for you yet, sorcerer," he commented, staring up at Anea. "I hope you live, for Mara’s sake. She loves you deeply, and maybe that should give you some peace if the worst should happen."

"It has already. I didn’t think there was anything left in me worth loving. She gives me hope that there might be."

"Hope is the gift of saints. It is what draws everyone to them and what makes them so dangerous. I ended up a cat, and yet, I wouldn’t change a thing about loving my saint."

Augustus hesitated and then patted the cat’s head. "You’ll watch over Mara for me?"

"I have done so long before your useless ass came through her door. And I will until the day I die," Athanasius replied. He got a pained look on his face. "Do try and live for her. Fight for your useless life, sorcerer."

"I will, puss. I promise. If I do, I might even change you back into a man if you want."

Athanasius’s ears went flat against his head. "Don’t you dare. I happen to like being a cat." With that, he darted away.

Augustus shook his head. "Alchemists."

Mara opened the door from the teashop and spotted him. "Are you coming?"

"Yes, love. I’ll be right there." Augustus gave Anea a final smile. "Wish me luck, gorgeous."

The saint did, though the sorcerer was incapable of hearing it.

Mara had filled the store with candles, and it seemed more magical than ever. Her lightning hair shone faintly in the gloom, and she looked otherworldly. He sat down opposite her.

"Are you ready for this?" Mara asked softly.

"No." Augustus leaned over the bar. "Kiss me, love."

Mara pressed her lips to his, and he felt some of her magic and hope transfer over to him.

"Now, I’m ready," he said softly, pulling away from her. Augustus let out a tight breath, shook himself, and gave her his most devil-may-care smile. He closed his eyes and let Mara’s power curl around him and drag him under.

Augustus suddenly found his mouth moving of its own accord.

"It had been a long time since the leopard hunt, but I had the taste of blood in my mouth, the scent of his trail, and nothing was going to satisfy me until I had my prey…"

* * *

Now that Augustus knew the leopard sorcerer was behind the killings, he became a man driven. There was no law he wouldn’t break; no magic he wouldn’t do until he found him. It wasn’t his own safety that concerned him, but Gwen’s and Will’s too. They had no idea what they were up against, not like he did.

Augustus wanted justice for Emmaline and the others the leopard sorcerer killed so cruelly. Most of all, he wanted answers as to why it had followed him from Sri Lanka and across the known world. Why it had chosen Augustus to torment for years.

Ulysses Rutherford ended up being the key to it all. Augustus knew that the man loved power and was attracted to it in all of its forms. Augustus had been the darling of the Academy, someone with influence in every circle that Ulysses wanted to be in.

It took a month, but Augustus soon had convinced the other sorcerer that they were friends and allies and that Ulysses had the right idea to establish himself in Australia, far away from the judgemental old eyes of the Academy. He wanted to be involved with whatever Ulysses was up to.

It had been too easy. It had been a trap. Augustus, blinded by his need to protect the woman in his life from Emmaline’s fate, had stepped right into it.

The night of the Great Breaking happened like any other. Augustus and Gwen had met with Ulysses for cigars and brandy at his estate. The brandy had been drugged, a trick that Augustus didn’t think another sorcerer would stoop to.

Augustus had been so arrogant, so damn sure of his own power that such a simple thing as drugs in a brandy glass hadn’t even occurred to him.

When Augustus woke, they had traveled deep into the countryside. Later, he learned that they were in the Otway Parks, far from the city and any help that he could get.

Ulysses and his men dragged them through a system of caves and threw Augustus down at the feet of the Leopard Sorcerer.

Augustus had expected the crazed old man from Sri Lanka, but it was so much worse. The leopard changed its form, and Timothy Highfell, his dearest friend, stood before him.

Augustus had been so shocked, he hadn’t been able to tear himself free of Ulysses’s magical bindings. Timothy had almost died, and the Leopard Sorcerer had trained him to be his successor. As soon as he was ready, he had sailed back to England, wanting revenge on the friend that had left him to die in the rain forest.

There was no use in begging. Augustus knew he would die, but he still begged for Gwen. His sweet Gwen.

Highfell wasn’t interested. He wanted to gloat, to finally prove to Augustus that he was the best sorcerer of the Age. He showed Augustus the magic he had been stealing from land, sea, and sky.

He was plundering Australia for its natural and abundant resources and then selling the wild, raw magic in Europe, where it had been depleted over the centuries.

He was mad with the power he had taken into himself, and to defeat him, Augustus did the unforgivable and stole a piece of Melbourne’s magic for himself.

There was much he didn’t remember about that fight. A magical duel was suicidal and chaotic at best. Lightning had flashed the world white over and over, the wild magic in the air growing more and more unstable as the sorcerers fought and stole.

Finally, they hit magic one too many times. Magic hit back. It flooded the caves, killing everyone in its path. Except for Augustus.

When Augustus finally woke, he was lying in the ashes of all that remained of Gwen, the Leopard Sorcerer, and Ulysses Rutherford. Magic had spared him, only so he would suffer more.

* * *

Augustus gasped in agony, Mara’s magic releasing him suddenly and painfully. His face was wet with tears, and this time he didn’t brush them away. Mara’s eyes were shimmering with golden power. She lifted the teapot and poured.

"Drink," she said softly.

Augustus lifted the small cup in his long fingers. "Fuck, I hate this bit." He downed the cup, his mouth filling with the taste of poisoned brandy and expensive cigars.

Mara refilled the cup, tears falling down her cheeks. "Drink."

Augustus downed it like a shot, thinking that it would hurt less. He was wrong. He tasted verdant rain forest air, the musk of the Leopard Sorcerer’s magic, the tears of knowing his closest friend killed Emmaline.

Augustus gagged but forced the brew to go down. Mara’s hand closed over his, and that tiny bit of comfort gave him the courage to hold out his cup once more.

Mara poured. "I love you," she said, and he knew that it was in case she didn’t get another chance.

"I love you too, Saint of the brokenhearted." And before he could hesitate, Augustus drank his final cup.

Death burned his tongue. Blood and ashes and wild dark magic poured down his throat until he was choking on it. He covered his mouth with his hands, stopping the tea and bile from forcing their way out. Augustus swallowed and toppled backward onto the floor.

Mara was beside him in a second. "Augustus! Keep your eyes open. Breathe, my love. Don’t stop."

A pulse of magic hit the teashop. The walls swayed and warped, glass jars fell from their shelves, and teapots exploded. The fabric of reality heaved and roared.

With a flash of lightning and a bang loud enough to wake the dead, the teashop disappeared, leaving only smoking concrete to show it had ever been there.