Prophecy's Child (Broken Throne Book 2) Read online

  “Good day, Miss Durham. Please come in. Walk up the drive to the side entrance. I’ll meet you there.”

  She pushed TALK to reply. “Thank you, Mr. Gunderson.”

  Without so much as a backwards glance, Winnie walked through the gates to finally start the training she’d put off for so long.

  CHAPTER 35

  “Again. Do it again.”

  Winnie lowered her head, shaking it as she stared at the floor. She’d never exerted herself this much before and was barely moving. She also never realized how difficult magic was to hold, or shove into intention.

  “Come on, child. Again. Do it once more,” Artos repeated. “You’ve done this already. Show me how you stitched the flows to do what you did in the Enclave last week.”

  “That was an accident. It just happened.”

  “You act like the magic controls you rather than the other way around. You must take the reins. To do what you did on that scale requires you to command the flows, force them to do as you wish.”

  Again, she shook her head. Artos didn’t understand. He was trying to stitch the massive flows she couldn’t draw into herself, just like she’d manipulated the gossamer threads of magic before creating charms. He tried getting her to do the exercises every chanter child learned from their parents and teachers, the simple enchantments that were part of every chanter’s life.

  But the more Winnie considered it, the more she grew aware that, on the two occasions when she’d worked immense flows of magic, she had truly controlled nothing. The flows had been urged, nudged, encouraged to do as she wanted. But she didn’t control them, because they had a life of their own.

  “Again.”

  “No. We aren’t getting anywhere, Artos. You’ve had me doing these exercises for days and it isn’t working. I keep telling you. I didn’t stitch anything together. The flows sort of wove themselves once I’d drawn in enough power.”

  “I know it seems that way, Winnie, but only intention can guide the magic toward our bidding. You speak as though it is an animal you train for passage, rather than an energy source to be properly wired to perform a task.”

  “But that’s where you’re wrong, Artos. The magic isn’t just an energy source. I used to think like you, because that's how I was taught. I learned to stitch the threads to do specific things, assembling spells and charms like a recipe. But it’s different at this scale. The magic feels alive. I can’t entirely describe it. It’s like it sort of knows how do things, and I just need to convince it to do what I want.”

  Artos started to correct Winnie again but stopped himself. He looked her in the eye, as if trying to gauge her truth. Then he turned, shaking his head. “What you’re saying doesn’t make sense. It just isn’t how it’s done.”

  “What I can do has never been done, or at least not for a very long time. How can you possibly know if I’m doing it right?”

  “I don’t. But what you’re saying turns all we know on its head. If magic isn’t a naturally occurring energy source, like a magnetic field or electricity, then what is it?”

  “Who cares?” Winnie stalked over to the window, not bothering to hide her frustration. She’d been training for days but had accomplished little.

  “You care, girl, or you wouldn’t have come out of hiding to find me.” Now it was Artos’s turn to lose his temper. “You act as though it’s impossible when you’ve proven through your own actions that it can be done. Why won’t you embrace that? The possibility exists because of your own abilities. Now, let’s try it again.”

  Winnie didn’t want to. She’d already tried and failed a hundred times. “Will you let me show you something? I want to prove that you’re approaching this the wrong way. All of your talk about forcing the magic … it just isn’t right.”

  Artos waved his hands in exasperation. “Very well. Do your best, then we’ll return to the real work.”

  Winnie bristled. The old man acted like he had all the answers, but he couldn’t help her break through and consciously control the magic. It had always been a reaction, a spur of the moment decision to accomplish her means with magic. Now she had to show Artos what she meant.

  “I’m not throwing out what you’ve been trying to teach me, but it has led me to see the magic differently than before. It might not be as clear as you think.”

  Winnie opened herself up, drawing magic from the world around her. It came in thick flows rather than the tiny threads she was used to when first using her skills years ago. These flows all seemed to share a sort of group mind that kept them apart from one another in her mind, as if they each had a sort of personality and she had to know it.

  Raising her arms, Winnie tried to match the flows’ wavering rhythm.

  Pure pleasure exploded inside her as she became one with the magic, working alongside it rather than ordering it around. Winnie tried to do something like she’d done the day when saving Elaine from the fire. Still moving like an orchestra conductor, she reached out and pointed to the dust swirling in the wind outside the room. The flows pushed outward without hesitation. Dust thinned and drifted until the sun shined on the grass outside and the sky again turned azure.

  Winnie lowered her arms and released the flows, stumbling to the side as a wave of frailty washed over her. She had to catch herself on the back of a chair to stay upright. She grinned at Artos and mopped the sweat from her brow. It felt like she’d just run a marathon, but she’d done it. This was the first time Winnie had consciously reached out and worked her new magical powers without some sort of inciting incident to force it out of her.

  Artos pursed his lips, gazing at Winnie for a beat before speaking. “I see what you mean, but I don’t think I could to that, and few can even understand my power. What drew you to try this?”

  “I was thinking back to when I figured out how to invert the flows so I could hide the charms. It happened when I was sort of stroking the threads of a weave. I think I sort of coaxed them into staying hidden, which is something they wanted to do anyway. The weave would always turn in on itself until it couldn’t be easily seen, unless you knew what to look for.” She pointed outside. “Same idea today, but bigger. I don’t think the magic likes our recent problems, like it somehow knows it isn’t natural. I used that feeling to get it to push the dust away for a while.”

  Winnie realized the magic was fading as dust pushed back in and the swirling orange clouds outside swallowed the blue sky and sunshine.

  “It takes a lot of energy and strength, and I don’t know how to make it last. Once I let go, the magic stops doing what I direct it to do and returns to simply flowing around and beneath us.”

  “Don’t fret, Winnie. You’ve made a major step in your development. Until now, you’ve only been able to do this when upset or angry. Conscious control is an essential next step. We can work on how to create permanent spells later. I must admit, it was nice to the see the sun. Thank you for that.”

  Winnie nodded, and couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to get some recognition for finally doing something right after her days’ worth of failures.

  “Stand up!” Artos snapped when she tried to sit.

  “But, Artos, I’m exhausted. I can barely stay on my feet.”

  “Exactly. You will never realize your true power until you’ve reached a point where you can do more than one large spell before collapsing. You must build up your stamina enough to continuously control the flows of several spells in unison, and for an extended period of time.”

  Artos walked over to Winnie and pulled her to standing.

  “Get back up and let’s see how many flows you can — how did you say it? Ah, yes — direct at one time.”

  Winnie stood, throttling her fatigue and opening herself back to the magic. She felt energized, accepting the joy and euphoria into her mind and body. It was easier to ignore her exhaustion while holding the magic.

  Winnie was doing it, controlling her new magic for the first time.

  Nothing had ever felt bett
er.

  CHAPTER 36

  Tris checked her watch again and decided that time had literally stopped.

  This shift was never going to end and she was looking forward to her first night off since the Enclave riots. Things had calmed a bit since the first day of tremors. There were still system failures to deal with, but either the techs were getting better at patching the spells or things were finally slowing. She hoped for the latter. While Tris liked the idea that her skills were improving along with her co-workers, she preferred a world that was returning to normal.

  “Hey, Tris,” Jen called from her terminal monitoring the pump station.

  Tris straightened in her chair and stretched to gather her senses. These eighteen hour shifts were brutal for them all. She went to her colleague, leaned over, and looked at Jen’s screen. It was filled with numbers, some sort of spreadsheet or database.

  “What’s that, Jen?”

  “You made a comment to me when all of this started. Something about how the sources of magic we were tapping into seemed to be failing. Do you remember?”

  “Yeah, I still think there’s something either taking the magic away, or our reservoir is drying.”

  “I’ve been plugging numbers from the last five years into the database, hoping to see if your instincts were right. Look here.” She pointed. “There’s a slow decline in the flow into each building over that time frame. Then here, about two months ago, we see a sharp drop in the magic supply as if something drained it all at once. Since then, we’ve had the dust storms, tremors, and system-wide failures. I don’t know what, but something has drastically drained the supply.”

  Tris studied the numbers, understanding what she was seeing now that she had some context. “I wonder what caused the slight increase earlier this week. Supply surged to a new plateau a few days ago.”

  Jen nodded. “There are a few days when the supply started to return, only to stay below normal levels after a brief resurgence.”

  “Print the dates and numbers. And while you’re at it, shoot me that database link in an email. I’d like to check it out. I think you may be on to something.”

  “Sure thing, Tris. I’ll do that now. I’m sending it to the break room printer. You can grab the hard copy there.” Jen typed a few commands into the workstation and hit enter. “There you go.”

  “Thanks,” Tris called over her shoulder, already heading down the hallway to their tiny break room in the pump house.

  The sheets were already printing. Tris grabbed the documents from the tray. She was tapping the stack to straighten it out when she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. She turned expecting to see Kevin, her relief. But two strange men in black overcoats were blocking the door instead.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Tristan Wellings?” the taller of the two asked.

  “That’s me … how can I help you?” Tris covertly eyed her surroundings, searching for a means to escape.

  “There’s no need for worry, Miss Wellings. We’re here to escort you to an important meeting. Someone important would like an audience with you.”

  “I have work to do. I can’t just leave the station unattended.”

  “Our colleagues have brought in someone to cover for you.”

  As he spoke, Winnie saw Kevin being hustled by in the hallway outside towards the monitoring station and Jen. He was complaining about being pushed, but then, Kevin was always complaining about something, and he definitely didn’t seem hurt.

  “We’ll take you to dinner while we wait for our benefactor.”

  Tris looked at the two men. She couldn’t take them on by herself and they appeared to have help, judging by the other trench-coated men with Kevin.

  And yet, these men weren’t threatening her. Not exactly. They were offering her a nice meal and a meeting with someone important. She didn’t think they would take no for an answer, but beyond that, there had been no threats of violence.

  “I’ll go with you, but I want to make sure I can go home and get some sleep before too long. I have to work again in eight hours.”

  “That won’t be a problem. I’ll make sure you get back to your apartment safely myself. You have my word.”

  The man stepped aside and gestured for Tris to follow. She gathered the stack of papers then grabbed her jacket and scarf. It was certainly dusty outside. The storms were ever present.

  Protected from the elements, Tris followed the men outside.

  ———

  Tris pushed the bowl of seafood alfredo away and leaned back in her chair. The tall man — he still hadn’t identified himself — had asked about her favorite local restaurant. She gave him the name and address for On The Hook. Now, she was alone in the seafood restaurant finishing a bowl of her favorite item on the menu. The pasta had lumps of crab meat, scallops, and shrimp in a creamy sauce.

  She was alone because the man had spoken to the owner who, with a wide-eyed nod, had agreed to shut the doors early for a private function, or so he said. That private function consisted of Tris eating whatever she wanted while awaiting her guest.

  Now that the main course had been cleared from the table, Tris considered ordering a cannoli from the dessert case by the register. But her craving was interrupted by the bell above the door ringing as someone entered. She looked over to see who it was and her jaw dropped.

  “Good evening, Miss Wellings. I trust your dinner was satisfactory.”

  “Uh, yes … quite satisfactory, Director Kane.”

  “Excellent. I wanted you to feel like this was a conversation rather than an interrogation. Our previous meeting was a bit … awkward, and lacked a formal introduction.”

  “Well, you were trying to kill me and my friends, so — ”

  “As I said. Awkward. But that is in the past and there are other things that demand our attention now, isn’t that right?”

  “I assume you’re referring to all the bullshit weather since your monster machine exploded?”

  Kane offered Tris his thinnest-lipped smile. “Quite right. I heard you had an interesting theory about the magic supplying much of our infrastructure. I was wondering if you had found anything that might back that up.”

  Tris surveyed the room. Aside from the tall man in the corner, there was no one else in the restaurant but the two of them. The last thing she had expected was a private dialogue with the Director of the Department of Magical Containment. Tris had many things she wanted to say, but the state of the city’s magic supply wasn’t among them.

  “Director Kane, forgive me if I can’t just forget your previous actions.”

  “I’m not asking for you to forget anything. Or forgive, for that matter. I would like you to answer a few questions and hear a proposition. Is that acceptable?”

  Tris pondered the request, then gave a measured nod.

  “Very well. Please tell me what you have discovered about the magic that provides for so many of our modern conveniences.”

  Tris didn’t know where to start, but then her gaze found the pile of printed docs. “I’ve gathered data from the last five years, looking at all the magical supply levels for the cities up and down the coast. Supply levels have been dropping at a steady pace. They hadn’t reached critical levels and would have likely stayed high enough to do the job for the foreseeable future.”

  “Would have? So, you believe that something changed?”

  “You could say that. It seems to coincide with a recent explosion in the north-eastern section of the city. The flows have been deficient ever since.”

  “Well, then it would seem that you and I are both at fault for this current predicament.”

  Tris didn’t see how he could have possibly arrived at that conclusion, but she let it pass. She was quivering inside with rage and terror from sitting so close to a monster.

  “Which brings me to the reason I’ve arranged this little meeting in this — ” Kane looked around the restaurant with a smirk “ — quaint little venue. I have informat
ion that I believe you’ll find interesting, based on your other inquiries. They sent a few flags into my systems, set in place to monitor this country’s magic use and research. They told me that you are an astute mind who understands the nation’s future dangers.”

  “They’re not future dangers, sir. Ask the people of Boston if you doubt it.”

  “Well, that was an unfortunate series of events. A failure of their techs to properly monitor their city’s infrastructure. Had they been more proactive, like you and others around the Eastern Seaboard, Boston would still be standing.”

  Tris ignored him and said, “You mentioned looking at my queries and research.”

  “I agree: let’s get to the point. Smart young lady.” He gave her a serpentine smile. “Who, of course, surrounds herself with intelligent friends.”

  “You mean Winnie.”

  Kane chuckled. “Very direct. Yes, like Miss Durham. It is actually her that I’d like to discuss. She is an important young lady for a variety of reasons. I need her help in this crisis. If she keeps trying to fix things, then her meddling will destroy some important plans to save our nation.”

  The Director fixed Tris with a withering glare.

  “You’re a smart woman. You’ve seen what is happening and have extrapolated the ultimate outcome. It is as bad as you fear; maybe worse. Magic is failing us, and has been in decline since before the fall of Europe. That was when we first knew that the world’s magic was thinning. Now we have a crisis on this continent, too. If we can’t come up with an alternative source of power, we will be doomed to go the way of the Europeans, warring for survival as wandering tribes of hunter-gatherers.”

  Kane cleared his throat, and Tris could swear that his eyes seemed to be filled with genuine sorrow.

  “I was attempting to harvest a supply of magic in a way that would redistribute the wealth to our cities based on need when the existing natural reserve began to run dry. You and your friends disrupted that plan, and in the process caused an acceleration of the declining supply.”