The Mage's Limits: Mages of Martir Book #2 (27 page)

So Durima summoned a tiny orb of light in her right hand. She wasn't much of a luminimancer, but she had worked for Nimiko, the God of Light, once, and he had taught her more than a few tricks about how to use light magic effectively. She just hoped that she remembered everything he had taught her.

Without waiting another moment, Durima hurled the light orb toward the army. She heard the army stop, heard some of the half-gods growl in surprise, but before they had a chance to react, the light orb exploded.

It wasn't a fiery explosion, however; in fact, as Durima covered her eyes to avoid getting blinded, she doubted it even hurt. However, the explosion did light up the area as bright as day, and if it worked as it was supposed to, the half-gods would be too blinded by the orb to react.

As soon as she heard the half-gods shriek and scream in shock and pain from the light explosion, Durima said, “Gujak, decoys, now!”

Thankfully, Gujak hadn't just been talking earlier. He pressed his hands against the sand and, as the light faded, Durima saw two dozen or so wooden replicas of herself and Gujak sprout out of the sand before the half-god army. Some of the half-gods that weren't stumbling around blinded by the light ran away as soon as they saw the decoys, while others ran into their blinded brethren and fell over.

It wasn't over yet, however. Durima punched the sand and another dozen or so decoys—these ones made out of stone—burst out of the sand like snake worms. One of the half-gods did shoot a lightning bolt at one of the stone decoys, shattering it into pieces, but for the most part, the half-gods were too shocked and confused to realize that the decoys were nothing more than rock and wood.

“Let's go now before they recover,” said Durima. “Come on!”

She stood up, sand tumbling off her back, and hauled Gujak out of the wet sand as well. The two of them turned around and headed directly for their little boat, which was beached on the sand behind them, ready to go as soon as they were.

The two katabans worked together to push the boat into the waters of the Void, which were warm for some reason. As soon as the boat was in, Durima and Gujak hopped into it, causing the boat to shake before they managed to right it.

As soon as the boat was steady, Gujak activated the engine, which roared to life and sent the boat gliding away from the shoreline and into the dark waters of the Void. All the while, the cries of anger and shock from the half-gods echoed from the darkness of the Void, occasionally punctuated by bursts of flame or flashes of light from the confused unfinished deities as they attempted to fight an enemy that wasn't real.

Grinning, Durima turned to look at Gujak. “Doesn't look like those idiots are going anywhere anytime soon, now does it?”

Gujak nodded, but his eyes were wide, like he had just narrowly escaped a wild animal. “Y-Yeah. I can't believe that actually worked. I thought for sure something would go wrong and we'd die.”

Durima sat back in the boat, though she was careful to keep her weight distributed evenly to avoid upending it. “I know what you mean. During the War, very few of our plans ever went exactly the way we planned them. But sometimes, Dranyx's luck really is with us, even in the Void.”

“I guess you're right,” said Gujak. Then he frowned and looked over his shoulder back toward the beach, where the half-gods were still fighting in a confused mess. “But where is Uron? Did you see him when your light bomb went off?”

“No,” said Durima as she dusted off some sand from her shoulders, though she had so much of it in her fur she doubted she would ever be totally free of it. “I just assumed he was caught in the middle of it. Most likely the half-gods are attacking him in their confusion.”

Gujak gulped. “But what if Uron isn't with them at all? I know he said he was going to lead the half-gods to victory, but maybe he changed his mind between then and now. Maybe he decided to go to Martir and wait for the army to arrive.”

“That's silly,” said Durima. “Uron has no reason to go ahead of his army. That would mean ruining the element of surprise, which is the only thing that he's got going for him at the moment. Why would he give the gods even a moment's notice?”

“You are absolutely correct, Durima,” said an ancient, vaguely serpentine voice behind her. “That would hardly be a smart move on my part, which of course is why I am not doing it.”

Durima did not want to turn around, but she did anyway. She also activated her luminimancy as she did so, making one of her fists glow so that she and Gujak could see who had spoken.

Standing in front of the boat was Uron; actually, he wasn't really standing. He was walking backwards on the water, his arms folded behind his back, managing to keep a step ahead of the motorboat. His yellow eyes, as snakelike as ever, glowed in her light, though his purplish-black skin seemed to absorb all illumination that came upon it, making it look like Uron was nothing more than a floating pair of eyes in the darkness of the Void.

“Uh oh,” said Gujak with another gulp. “We're dead.”

Uron smiled. “Yes, you are.”

He kicked the boat's prow. That blow upended the boat, tossing Durima and Gujak out of its body and into the water beneath it.

Durima and Gujak fell into the water with a splash. Durima tried to swim, but her fur was getting wet and weighing her down. In addition, the water felt strangely thick, as if she was swimming in a sea of mud. She found it difficult to stay afloat no matter how hard she kicked her legs.

“Help!” Gujak cried out, splashing around nearby. “The water … it's pulling me in!”

Durima reached out and grabbed Gujak's arm instinctively, but that turned out to be a mistake. With Gujak's weight now added to her own, Durima began rapidly sinking beneath the dark waters of the Void, which pulled at her legs like the tentacles of a kraken dragging a ship to the bottom of the sea.

The last thing she saw, before her head went under completely, was Uron standing above them on the water, his smile never wavering until the blackness of the Void claimed Durima's vision completely.

Chapter Eighteen

I
f Darek was not dead yet, he figured that he would be soon. After all, why would Jakuuth spare his life, after Darek's botched attempt at assassination? It wouldn't take Jakuuth, a Limitless, very long to end Darek's life. Indeed, for all Darek knew, he was already dead and the empty blackness he saw was the only thing that lay beyond, making he wonder if that meant that the Heavenly Paradise was indeed a myth.

The last thing Darek recalled was getting his face smashed into the ice block that he had tried to kill Jakuuth with. A hot pain in his face told him that he had still not yet recovered from it; however, that was irrelevant because it just occurred to him that he had to still be alive if he was capable of feeling pain like that.

Does that mean Jakuuth hasn't killed me yet?
Darek thought.
Or does it mean that he wants me to be awake so he can see how I look before I die?

Neither option was very appealing to him, but Darek was too curious to keep his eyes closed. If there was even the slightest chance that he was still alive and in some position to stop Jakuuth before he went to North Academy, then he would have to risk opening his eyes.

His eyes flickered open. The first thing he saw above him was the ceiling of Jakuuth's office. That told him that Jakuuth had not moved him out of the office, though why, he couldn't say. He doubted it was due to any benevolent intentions on Jakuuth's part, however.

He tried sitting up, only to discover that thick heavy metal chains were tied around his arms and legs. He couldn't budge at all. It was like he had been chained down to a mountain. He wondered if he could use his magic to destroy or weaken the chains, although without his wand (which appeared to have vanished), he was not certain he could do it without harming his body.

He heard someone start nearby and looked to his right. Aorja was sitting on the sofa, with both her feet on it as if she was afraid of mice on the floor. An opened book lay on the seat next to her, although he didn't know what that book was.

“Damn it,” said Aorja as she lowered her feet back onto the floor. “I was hoping you wouldn't wake up until Jakuuth returned.”

Darek blinked. “Aorja? What are you doing here? Where is Jakuuth?”

“He left,” said Aorja, rolling her eyes. “Duh. He took half of the Army to attack North Academy. That was maybe half an hour ago, I think. He left me here to keep an eye on you while he was away, even though I wanted to come along and help.”

Darek struggled against his bonds, but they were still too heavy for him to move. “Aorja, we have to stop him. Jakuuth is insane. He's going to kill everyone.”

Aorja raised an eyebrow. “You think I care about the Academy or the Magical Superior or anyone else there? If it were up to me, I'd be fighting alongside Jakuuth, helping him burn that damn school to the ground.”

“If you let me go, we might be able to get there in time to stop him,” Darek suggested. “If we do, then the Magical Superior might be willing to forgive you for your crimes against the school.”

Aorja sighed heavily. “Why do you think I want the Magical Superior's forgiveness? What I want is to see that old coot's head on a silver platter. That's the only thing that would make me happy at this point.”

Darek gritted his teeth. “I don't think you understand. This is more than just North Academy being destroyed. There's a good chance that Jakuuth is working with someone who wants to destroy all of Martir and he doesn't even realize it.”

“Who would want to destroy all of Martir?” said Aorja. “You're making stuff up now just to scare me enough to let you go. How pathetic.”

Aorja picked up her book and resumed reading it, a clear sign that she was not interested in continuing the conversation. While Darek didn't like talking to her, he knew that convincing her to let him go was his best chance at getting free.

“Come on, Aorja,” said Darek. “You know how crazy Jakuuth is. Do you really want to support him? Don't you care about
anyone
at North Academy?”

“Jakuuth promised each of us Limitless our own islands to rule after we conquered Martir,” said Aorja, turning the page of her book without looking up at Darek. “He specifically promised me the Great Berg, as I think it would be a good place to build my own castle after North Academy is little more than a memory. Lots of room to build, after all.”

Darek scowled, but said nothing to that. He didn't know how he could possibly convince Aorja to free him now. He couldn't appeal to her conscience (which he was pretty sure she had murdered at some point) and he didn't have anything to offer her that she'd want. Yet Darek couldn't escape on his own, and even if he could, he would have to fight her in order to leave for North Academy.

No guarantee I'd win a fight against her,
Darek thought.
She has way more experience as a Limitless than I do. Plus, she has a wand and I don't. So I
have
to reason with her somehow, but there's no time to reason with her if Jakuuth is already at the school.

He considered possibly calling out to the Ghostly God or Xocion for help; however, when he thought about it, he doubted it would work. If World's End was under attack by Jakuuth's forces, then the gods were no doubt preoccupied with keeping their city safe. Especially if Uron was part of the attack, which meant that Darek was on his own, as usual.

So Darek tried to think about Aorja as a person. He had known her for nine years, after all, and had grown quite close to her in that time. There had to be something he could say or do that would convince Aorja to let him go. Some part of her that he could exploit—he would readily admit that that was what he was trying to do—in order to regain his freedom.

Aorja is a mousimancer,
Darek thought.
That makes her a servant of Yaona, the Goddess of Music. She was always good with a guitar and had an excellent singing voice. I remember one time she told me that she wanted to become a famous singer in the Northern Isles after she graduated or at least serve as a priestess of Yaona on some island somewhere.

Unfortunately, right now Aorja didn't seem to be in the mood to sing or play a guitar. He wasn't even sure that she did that anymore, now that she was no longer in North Academy. For all he knew, she might have forsaken Yaona after coming to Rock Isle and was now serving some other god or goddess, or perhaps just serving herself.

Seems like there's nothing I can do,
Darek thought, tugging at his chains ineffectually.
Except wait for Jakuuth to return, probably carrying the heads of Mom and the Magical Superior as trophies of war.

That sapped his motivation as well as anything. This feeling of hopelessness sparked a memory of when he had been five-years-old, although it was too vague for him to remember why he had felt that way at that age. No doubt something terrible had happened then, just as terrible as what was happening to him now.

No,
Darek thought, shaking his head.
This
isn't
hopeless. I am a Limitless. That means I can do anything. I may not have a wand, and I may not be as powerful as Aorja, but that doesn't mean all hope is lost. It's time to draw upon some of that Limitless energy and see what I can do.

That was easier said than done. Although he had been a Limitless for a while now, his body still reacted negatively to the idea of going over his original Limits. There was also the fact that Aorja would no doubt notice him using his magic to escape, which meant that he would have to distract her.

While Darek began to focus on loosening the chains around his ankles and wrists, he said to Aorja, “So, what is that book you're reading?”

Aorja still didn't look up at him. “None of your business.”

“That's an odd name for a book,” said Darek. “Who's the author? Is it Rude Impoliteness?”

Aorja looked up at him with a glare as sharp as any knife. “Don't joke around with me. Jakuuth gave me full authority to treat you as I see fit. If you make a bunch of stupid jokes like that one, I will shut you up myself.”