The Chronicles Of Ixia (Books 1-6). Maria V. Snyder

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The Chronicles Of Ixia (Books 1-6) - Maria V. Snyder


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my cloak out the window of my room and banged on the door, calling to the guards.

      When the door opened, I declared, “I need a bath.” Without waiting for a response, I strode with purpose down the hallway. The guards followed.

      At the baths, one guard stopped me in the hallway while his companion looked around inside. Only when he was sure I would be alone did he nod and step back.

      As I went through the entrance, I said in an authoritative voice, “I don’t need an audience. Wait here, I won’t be long.”

      To my delight they remained outside. I scurried to the far wall where, hidden from view, there was another entrance. The guards might work in the manor house, but I’d grown up here. With a child’s curiosity and free time, I had been able to explore almost every corner of the house. Only Brazell’s private suite, office and Reyad’s wing had been off-limits. Unfortunately once I turned sixteen, Reyad’s wing became my daily nightmare. Pushing away the thought, I concentrated on the present.

      I pulled the handle of the door and encountered my first unwanted surprise. It was locked. No problem, I thought, reaching for my picks. The mechanism popped with ease, the door swung open, and I discovered a second nasty shock. One of the guards waited in the hallway.

      He smirked. I rushed him. Using my momentum, I shoved him off balance and punched him in the groin. A dirty Valek move, but I didn’t care as I raced down the corridor, leaving the guard far behind.

      Slipping out the south entrance, I retrieved my cloak, and then headed west to find my pack and bow. Bright moonlight illuminated my path, and I could see where I was going; however, my true path was less evident. I knew I couldn’t help the Commander from a locked room, but I was unsure what I could do from the outside. I needed to talk to Valek. Deciding it would be too risky to go to the barracks, I took to the treetops. Only Valek knew this trick. Once he learned of my escape, he would track me.

      When I reached the open area reserved for the annual fire festival’s visit to MD–5, I stopped for the night. Shivering in my cloak, I huddled against a tree trunk, blowing clouds of steam from my mouth. Once, I heard the baying of dogs and distant shouts, but no one came close to my makeshift bed in the tree. Sleep eluded me; I was too cold and nervous. Instead, I envisioned the bright fabric of the festival tents in the clearing, hoping to warm myself by remembering the hot energy of the festival nights.

      I imagined the big tops in their proper places. Dancers, singers and acrobats lined up in the middle of the clearing. Food stands huddled in and around the big tents, scenting the air with mouthwatering treats. I went to the festival every hot season when I had lived under Brazell’s roof. It had been the highlight of my existence. Although my memories of those last two years, when I had been Reyad’s laboratory rat, were dreadful.

      Unable to resist, I climbed down from the tree and walked through my imaginary festival. I stopped where the acrobatics tent had stood, wondering if I could still perform the tumbling routine that had won me first place and the fire amulet. Without thought, I tossed off my cloak and started a warm-up. In the back of my mind, I knew I should be hiding, that it was stupid to be this exposed to discovery, but the desire to relive my one moment of true joy was too strong to deny.

      Soon all thoughts of Brazell, Reyad and Mogkan were banished as I spun and soared through the air. My mind settled into the mental zone of pure concentration I used when I fought. I relished the release, brief as it might be, from my days of tension and threat.

      As I performed my routine, I discovered that I could push my heightened awareness beyond my body to encompass the trees, even sense the animals in the forest. An owl, perched high on a branch, tracked the movements of a field mouse. A family of possums slipped without sound through the underbrush. A woman, crouched behind a stone, watched me.

      Stealing into Irys’s mind was as easy as slipping on a pair of gloves. Her thoughts flowed into my mind like silk. I reminded her of her younger sister, Lily, and she longed to be back home with her family, not sneaking around in cold, horrid Ixia. The situation in the north was getting dangerous; she would be safer in Sitia. But for how long? she wondered. As a master-level magician, she couldn’t allow the abuse of power that she had felt emanating from this area to continue. Kangom, who called himself Mogkan, was producing Theobroma at alarming quantities. He had also rigged a way to intensify his power.

      Irys’s thoughts returned to me, and I felt a tug on our mental connection.

      Yelena, what are you doing in my mind?

      I’m not sure how I got here.

      Haven’t you figured it out by now? You’re focusing your magic when you fight. That’s why you instinctively anticipate your opponent’s moves. I felt you at the castle when you were fighting your friends. Now that you have learned to harness your power,you have taken the next logical step by expanding it beyond the immediate area.

      My surprise broke our link. I stopped, panting in the cold night air as Irys emerged from the woods.

      “Does that mean I’m not going to flame out?” I asked.

      “You’ve stabilized, but you won’t get any stronger unless you receive the proper training. You don’t want to waste your potential. Come south now; your pursuers are miles away.”

      “The Commander…”

      “Is ensorcelled. Nothing you can do; his mind is probably gone. Mogkan has been feeding him Theobroma. I’ve smelled it since I arrived.”

      “Theobroma? Do you mean Criollo? The brown-colored sweet that Brazell’s manufacturing.”

      “That sounds right. It opens a mind to magical influence. It relaxes the mental defenses, allowing easy access to someone’s mind. We use it as a training tool in controlled situations where a fledgling magician is close to the subject. The Commander has a strong personality, very resistant to magical suggestion. Theobroma breaks down that barrier, which helps when a student is learning, but using it on the Commander to gain control of his mind is the same as rape.” Irys pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders. “Even with Theobroma, a magician shouldn’t be able to reach the Commander’s mind from this distance, but Mogkan has. He has found a way to boost his power.”

      Irys rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to warm up. “I’m guessing Mogkan’s visit to the castle was to lock himself into the Commander’s mind so he could lead him out here.”

      “What can we do to break the lock?” I asked.

      “Kill Mogkan. But it’ll be difficult. He’s very powerful.”

      “Isn’t there another way?” I recalled my conversation in the woods with Valek about murder as a solution. My formula, he had said, and it still annoyed me. He’d probably never been in the lose-lose situation I was always finding myself in.

      “Block Mogkan’s power supply. That might work. He’ll still have his magic, but it won’t be enhanced.”

      “What would his extra power look like? How do we find it?”

      “My guess would be that he’s either recruited a number of magicians to pool their power, or he’s devised a way to concentrate the power source without warping it.” She paused, considering. “Diamonds.”

      “Diamonds?” A cold knot of anxiety churned in my stomach. There was so much I didn’t know about magic.

      “Yes. Very expensive, but they will gather and store power like a hot coal holds heat. He might be using diamonds to enhance his magic. He would need a man-size circle of diamonds, and that’s not easily hidden. If we could find this circle I might be able to use it to block his power or, at least, redirect it long enough for you to awaken the Commander.”

      “What if the source is a group of magicians? How would I recognize them?”

      “Unfortunately, Ixia doesn’t have a uniform for magicians,” Irys said, her voice sharp with sarcasm. “Instead of searching for them, look for an empty room with a wagon-wheel


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