The Mage's Limits: Mages of Martir Book #2 (6 page)

“Ah,” said the Ghostly God. He frowned. “My understanding of human biology really only extends to which parts of you are edible and which parts aren't, but you two don't look similar the way relatives are supposed to.”

“I adopted him when he was five,” said Mom. “Besides, you're one to talk. No two of you gods look exactly alike and yet you're all siblings.”

“True, but we were not created like how you humans create each other,” said the Ghostly God. He stopped rubbing his fingers together, a look of puzzlement on his face. “Exactly how
do
you humans procreate? I've heard so many conflicting rumors from my siblings and from my servants that I—”

“It doesn't matter,” said Mom. She pointed at the Ghostly God's chest. “Why are you here? I thought you southern gods didn't like coming up north.”

The Ghostly God looked annoyed at being interrupted; nonetheless, he said, “I am here because I require Darek Takren's service, obviously. Didn't he tell you that he swore his life and service to me for ten years in exchange for a brief power boost I gave him during the battle against Uron last year?”

In truth, Darek had made certain that only a handful of people would ever know about the deal he had made with the Ghostly God. And none of them had been his mother, although with the way she was now looking at him in sheer disbelief, Darek realized that keeping that particular fact a secret from her had probably not been the wisest decision he had made in his life.

“Is he telling the truth, Darek?” said Mom, her voice full of barely suppressed rage. “Did you really swear to serve him for
ten
years?”

Darek was very careful to avoid looking at Mom as he said, “Well, Mom, you gotta understand, it was a very tense situation and I didn't have a whole lot of choice in the matter, so—”

“As amusing as it is to watch this disrespectful mage get angry, all it does is waste precious time,” said the Ghostly God. “The point is, there is no backing out of a deal you make with a god or goddess, not unless you wish to spend the rest of your life walking with your hands, anyway.”

“But Darek is too weak to go anywhere at the moment,” said Mom. “That's why he's in bed here. He tried something monumentally stupid earlier and now he's paying the price for his mistake.”

Oddly enough, that made the Ghostly God grin. “Monumentally stupid? Excellent. I look for that kind of stupidity in my servants. It usually means they lack the intelligence to question my orders.”

“I'm not
that
stupid,” Darek said, though he wasn't sure the Ghostly God had heard him.

“Still doesn't change the fact that he's not in any condition to be moving around right now,” said Mom. She pointed at the nearby window. “Maybe you can leave and come back in a couple of days … weeks … months … oh, let's make it a few dozen years, which is probably about half a month for you gods, right?”

“This is not something that can wait,” said the Ghostly God, glaring at him. “Even if it was, I find your obvious attempts to get me out of here quite pathetic and uninspiring.”

“Mom's right,” said Darek. He tried to lift his arms, but they might as well have been lead weights for all the good that did him. “Can't move a muscle. Looks like I can't do whatever you want me to do for you.”

“Are you so sure?” said the Ghostly God. He leaned over slightly. “Tell me, what kind of sickness ails you?”

“It's not a sickness,” said Mom. “He tried to break the ceiling and ended up falling into a coma. He just needs to recharge his magical energy and he'll be fine.”

The Ghostly God tapped his chin. He was leaning over Darek so closely that Darek could now smell the stench of corpses on his body. “If that is all, then that is an easy problem for me to fix.”

The Ghostly God jabbed his hand down and clamped his fingers around Darek's right arm. The god's fingers were thick and cold, like an iceberg, and their abrupt contact with his arm made him shiver.

“What are you doing?” said Mom. She had drawn her wand now and was aiming it directly at the Ghostly God's head. “Let go of Darek. Now.”

“Control yourself, woman,” said the Ghostly God. “He will be fine once I am done with him; in fact, I suspect he will be better than ever. You should let me do what I am about to do, rather than allow your motherly instincts to override the rational part of your brain.”

“What are you talking about?” said Mom. “How do I know you won't hurt him?”

“Because an injured servant is useless to me,” said the Ghostly God. “Anyway, I don't need your permission to help him. Once I restore his strength, we can move onto the real work.”

Darek found enough sense to ask what the Ghostly God was planning to do to him when the god's grip around his arm tightened considerably. As soon as it did, Darek felt a surge of energy enter his body from the Ghostly God's arm. It was like getting struck by a lightning bolt.

When the energy spread over Darek's body, he gasped. His limbs no longer felt heavy and useless, but light and easy to move. He felt like he could hop out of his bed, run three laps around the Walls surrounding the school, study for four straight hours on the most complicated magical subjects in the school library, and still have enough energy leftover to perform an entire play using only the basics of geomancer to make stone 'actors' come to life to play the parts he couldn't, all for the pleasure of his fellow students and teachers.

Now Darek didn't know if he could actually do all of that or if he just felt like ir, but he did fling the blankets off his body and jump out of the bed like a rabbit. The Ghostly God had let go of his arm, looking quite smug as Darek stretched his limbs like he was readying to participate in a race soon.

“There,” said the Ghostly God. “All better, I hope.”

“Much better,” said Darek. He looked up at the Ghostly God. “What did you do to help me?”

“I gave you a portion of my own energy, of course,” said the Ghostly God. “Your magical energy, after all, is nothing more than the divine aura that we gods continuously produce. It is similar to what I did back in the graveyard a year ago, except this time your power will last for as long as you conserve it.”

“Amazing,” said Darek. He looked down at his hands, which felt strong enough to crack rocks. “Utterly amazing. I feel alive.”

“What's the catch?” Mom asked.

“Catch?” said the Ghostly God. “For this specifically or in general? Because if we're talking generally, the catch is that Darek must work for me. The only reason I came here, after all, is because I have a job I think he is well-suited for. Restoring his magical levels to their normal power was not a deed I did out of charity.”

“It's okay, Mom,” said Darek, jumping up and down. “Whatever job the Ghostly God has for me, I can handle it. I mean, I have so much power flowing through me that I can barely contain it.”

The Ghostly God rolled his eyes. “Well, it is good to see that you are confident you can complete it, at least. Then again, I suppose it's hardly accurate to say that confidence always translates to competence, now isn't it?”

Darek stopped bouncing immediately, but he still felt too jittery for his own good. But a question had occurred to him that he realized that he had forgotten to ask.

“So, Ghostly God,” said Darek, “just what
is
this mission you're going to send me on, anyway? Does it happen to involve looking for another ancient object designed to kill your siblings?”

The Ghostly God glared at him for that, even though there was some truth to it. After all, it had been the Ghostly God's servants, Durima and Gujak, who had brought the legendary God-killer out into the wider world, where Uron stole and used it to murder a goddess. It probably wasn't the smartest move for Darek to make, angering the Ghostly God, but he was so bouncy and full of energy that he could hardly control himself.

“It is top secret,” said the Ghostly God. His glanced at Mom. “Which means I'd rather not discuss it in the presence of someone who has nothing to do with it.”

Mom scowled. “What is that supposed to mean? Am I suddenly untrustworthy now or something?”

“It means that I will tell Darek everything he needs to know in private,” said the Ghostly God. “You, on the other hand, will not know any of it until well after the mission is completed, if even then. You have nothing to do with it, so why should I tell you anything about it?”

“Because I'm Darek's mother,” said Mom, jerking her thumb toward her chest. “And if you're going to be putting his life in danger on the day of his graduation, I want to know why.”

“Graduation?” said the Ghostly God, staring blankly at Mom. “He is graduating from the school today?”

“Yes,” said Mom. “This is something he has been working toward for ten years. Right, Darek?”

Darek nodded. “Yes. And because the graduation ceremony ended a while ago, that technically means I am officially free to leave when I want and go where I please.”

“That makes things simpler,” said the Ghostly God. “You will be able to focus entirely on the mission at hand without having to worry about such inane things such as homework, teachers, and studying.”

“But what about Darek's future?” said Mom. She looked at Darek pleadingly. “Darek, do you really want to serve the Ghostly God for ten years? What about Xocion?”

“Xocion doesn't care,” said the Ghostly God before Darek could reply. “Trust me, my icy brother, if he had any problem with this arrangement, would have made it quite clear well before today.”

“I understand your concern, Mom, but you remember what the Ghostly God said,” said Darek with a shrug. “I can't back out of my deal with him now. It's too late. Besides, it's just one mission. It's not like I'll have to do a mission for him every week or whatever.”

Mom lowered her wand and put it in the belt around her waist, although she continued to look as worried as ever. “Well … you're an adult now, Darek, so I guess that means I can't tell you what to do anymore. Especially if you've made a prior arrangement with a god. Still, I don't like it.”

“Don't worry, mother dearest,” said the Ghostly God as he floated over to Darek. “I will make sure to bring your little boy home safe, although I cannot guarantee that he will be sane.”

Darek started when the Ghostly God said that, but before he could ask for an elaboration, the Ghostly God grabbed Darek's upper arm and pulled. In a minute, everything around them went black and Darek saw Mom no more.

Chapter Five

I
t had been a long time since Durima had last set foot in World's End, also known as the Throne of the Gods, the very last island in Martir before one entered the Void. In fact, the last time she had been here was when she was packing up her things when she went to work for the Ghostly God shortly after the end of the Katabans War. The Ghostly God had told her that her service to him was likely to be long-term, which meant that she had had to get rid of or sell anything she couldn't take with her to Zamis, the Ghostly God's island.

That had been twenty-four years ago. As she and Gujak were walked through the streets of World's End, Durima noticed how little the city had changed since she had last been here. The streets were as white and soft as ever, with not a speck of dust to be seen anywhere. The skyscrapers, all set together to resemble a giant throne from a distance, were as huge and magnificent as always and appeared to be made out of rubies and diamonds and emeralds and other precious metals and stones. There weren't any new ones that she could see, but of course there wouldn't be. World's End had been finished by the Powers year ago and had only required minor repairs since then, though even those were rare and unusual.

Not surprising,
Durima thought.
Everyone who lives here treats the city as delicately as a newborn baby. Even during the Katabans War, both sides kept World's End out of the conflict as much as they could. And I imagine that it will stay undisturbed until the end of time, if that day ever comes.

One odd thing that Durima had noticed, when they had landed on the beach of World's End via the ethereal, were the array of battleships anchored in the harbor. None of the Soldiers had explained where the battleships had come from or what they were supposed to do, nor had Durima asked, as she didn't think they would answer the questions of a criminal like her, no matter how innocent those questions might have been.

But the fact was, World's End was never defended by a navy. As it was home to the gods, it had only the barest defenses, because it was believed that the gods themselves would defend it should the need ever arise. Last time Durima had been here, the only defense that World's End had had was the city walls, but even those were not highly fortified.

They're expecting an attack,
Durima thought.
But who are they expecting
to
attack? You'd have to be a complete imbecile to attack World's End … unless you are Uron, that is.

Durima was snapped out of her thoughts when the Soldier who held her chains jerked them. She staggered forward, almost tripping over her own feet before regaining her balance and resuming her walk behind the Soldier.

Gujak walked beside her, his head hanging on his chest. He looked much better now—he had been healed by one of the Soldiers, who had said that Gujak needed to look his best if he was going to stand in the presence of the Katabans Council—but he had clearly resigned himself to their fate. She didn't say anything to him, mostly because she didn't know what she could say to cheer him up.

The two detainees were surrounded on all sides by about a dozen Soldiers, with Commander Erich in the lead. Originally, Durima and Gujak had been escorted by three dozen of them, but when they arrived on World's End, Erich had dismissed the two dozen extra, stating that he didn't think their help was going to be needed or necessary right now.

Isn't that true?
Durima thought.
Neither I nor Gujak are going to be making any escape attempts any time soon. Of course we aren't. There is literally no place we can run to now.

One dozen well-armed and well-armored Soldiers escorting the two most wanted criminals in all of Martir did not go unnoticed by World End's general populace. Most of the people they walked past would take a moment to stop and stare—and often glare—at Durima and Gujak. One such gawker even threw a stone at them, which had hit Durima in the shoulder, though she had been forced to ignore it thanks to the convoy of Soldiers forcing her to keep walking.