“We won’t make the edge,” Timo said, his chest heaving as he turned to look at Mole.
“We have to try,” Mole said. “It’s our only chance.”
“No,” Timo replied. “It isn’t. We should make for the centre. I hollowed it out, hoping to remove most of the Mages.” He pointed to his left, and Mole followed his finger.
“Is it safe?” Mole asked.
Timo shrugged. “At least we’ll die looking at the sky.”
Mole laughed. “Gyda, I hate being under here.”
THE HOLE IN
the centre of Mage Guild Island was bigger than even Timo had imagined. Mole whistled in appreciation as the boat skimmed out from under the dirt into the pre-dawn sky. The edges of the hole were crisp, as though they’d been cut with a knife.
Timo looked up at buildings that were sliced down the middle, the hallways and rooms open to the air. And beyond that was the blue of the sky. He’d been joking when he’d said they could die looking at the sky, but looking up at it now, he was comforted.
“This is bigger than all of Santos’ estate on Old Rillidi,” Mole said. “Including the grounds. And you did this? Moved it?”
“Yes,” Timo said. “I’m the cause of so many deaths.”
“People were going to die,” Mole said. “Mage Guild would have taken everyone slow—this way those who die go quick.”
“I know,” Timo said. “But
I
made the decision that everyone would die quick. I’m as bad as Inigo.”
Mole pointed to the children in the bottom of the boat. “You think these little ones would have wanted to live being slowly drained of life?”
Timo looked at Mole, surprised at the fury in his face.
“I think they’d rather be dead. I know I would,” Mole finished.
Timo looked past Mole to the destruction he’d caused. When Inigo and Jinaro had been draining them, the children had been terrified. He had saved them—and countless others—from that. Even the dead boy was better off, wasn’t he?
“How do I live with what I’ve done?” Timo asked.
“You remember that others—like these two here—are alive because of you,” Mole said. “They now have a chance at a better life than they ever could have hoped for because of you.
Because
of those deaths you’re the cause of.”
Timo nodded and bent back to his oars.
“Is there any magic left?” Mole asked. “Can you do one more spell?”
A few tendrils of mage mist hung from the surrounding buildings, and Timo gathered them to him, but the major spells, the old magic that kept the island aloft, couldn’t be reached. Not with the small amount of power he had right now.
“I can do a small spell,” Timo said. “I don’t have enough to take us far.”
“Can you keep us afloat?”
Timo nodded. “Probably. Why?”
Mole looked around and then up. “This island will take some time to sink—hours maybe—and we’ll be pushed up like a cork as it does. I’m not sure what’ll happen when the island finally goes under but I do know I want to stay afloat.”
“I can do that.” Timo wove the small amount of mage mist around the boat, reinforcing the boat’s design and construction to magnify the magic as much as possible. “It’s done,” he said.
He turned around to face Mole and bent over the two children. They were pale but at some point the girl had stuck her thumb into her mouth. Timo sighed in relief at this small sign of recovery. Then he settled in to wait and watch as Mage Guild Island sank around them.
“DO YOU EVER
get used to it?” Timo asked. They were in the centre of the opening. The island had sunk enough that they were even with the lower level corridors. Timo hadn’t seen any bodies, but he was preparing himself. People had died—people he’d killed—and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Killing people?”
Mole gently swept an oar in the water, keeping them centred. “No. And you shouldn’t, not according to Reo.” The Assassin looked up from his task. “But some don’t care and others even get to like it.” He paused. “I suspect Inigo was the last.”
Timo nodded. “I’m not sure it even registered that he was taking a life.” He looked at the sleeping children. “And right or wrong had nothing to do with it. It was all about power.”
The surface of the bay was choppy, and Mole used his oars to keep the boat centred. Pieces of wood and small buckets and platters swirled around them. Something bumped into the side of the boat, and Timo clutched at the gunnels. The mage mist that ghosted around the boat solidified as the spell worked at keeping them afloat.
Timo unlatched one of his oars and shoved it against a small two-wheeled cart, pushing it into the swirling water. It got caught in the current and slammed against the stone of the hallway ceiling. It broke apart before being sucked under the stone.
Now the corridors were under water and the boat sat even with the lowest levels of the houses. When he looked up, Timo saw the edge of a garden or park. Soon they’d be even with it, and only the towers would be still above water. Would the island sink faster then? He swung the oar out and swept away a small table.
“Another hour,” Mole said suddenly.
Timo grunted. Not long until the island was fully submerged.
The island was definitely sinking faster now. The lowest level of the homes was already fully submerged. Timo looked into an opulent living area—plush settees and carved, oak chairs swept up by the eddying water floated around the room. Some of the furniture washed towards them.
“Watch out!” he called to Mole.
Timo raised an oar above his head and grunted as a falling chair slammed into it, pushing the oar into his stomach. The chair rebounded off the wood and splashed into the turbulent water. He doubled over and tried to suck in a breath.
“You all right?” Mole asked.
“Will be,” Timo managed to get out between gulping breaths.
The room the chair had come from was now empty of furniture, and Mole rowed them closer to it.
The boat spun, and from this new view Timo saw just how tilted the island was. The churning water was dotted with furniture and other debris that swirled towards the centre of the open area.
“We need to keep near the edge,” Timo called. “My spell won’t help if we get pulled into the whirlpool.”
Mole nodded, his face grim as he struggled with the oars.
The sea was rougher now, and water splashed over the gunwales and into the bottom of the small boat. The children didn’t move despite the water that had seeped onto the blankets. Timo pulled the fabric away from their faces, tucking it around small hands.
Timo swept the oar at debris to keep it from crashing into them. He tried to put more power into his spell but it was still weak—it would not keep them safe if the boat was in pieces.
The sun shone brightly, and cottony clouds skidded across the sky, but down in the hollowed centre of the island there was no wind, just the constant churning of the water and the sounds of crashing and splintering wood as debris and household items crashed into each other. Timo felt something change, and he looked up in alarm.
“What’s wrong?” Mole called out over the sounds of the water.
“Not sure.” Timo cocked his head and looked across to the swirling mass of debris that circled the whirlpool. “Hold on!” Timo yelled. He gripped the gunwales tight and mentally threw all of his magical energy into the small spell he’d created for their boat. The mage mist responded and shrank in on itself, wrapped tightly around the boat.
Suddenly the island dropped into the sea, taking the whirlpool and all its swirling debris with it. The boat rocked and bobbed as water churned and then spouted up under them. Waves crashed over Timo’s head, soaking them, but the water didn’t sink the boat. In the stern, Mole clutched at the oars, still trying to navigate them through the turbulent water. Timo pulled the children up, making sure the water in the boat didn’t drown then.
The boat was tossed and battered as the bay waters tried to suck them down. A few moments later, the boat settled, and a bubble of water filled with debris lifted it up. With a whoosh, the water gushed out from under them, and they dropped. The little spell did its work, and the boat bobbed on the surface though both blanket-wrapped children had been tossed towards Mole. He had his arms stretched across them, holding onto the sides of the boat.
Timo hunched in the bow, his eyes fixed on the farthest edge of the hole in the island. It had tipped up as the side closest to him sank, and furniture, carpets, and other household items slid across floors and into the sea. Beyond the interiors he could see towers slowing tilting towards them. One building snapped in two, and a shower of stone blocks and bricks rained down. A tower crashed to the ground, its spire leaning out over into the bay. Then the island sank lower, and in moments, the tip of the spire was submerged.
There was a loud, grinding noise and an almost intact roof burst upwards, propelled by a gush of water. And through it all the small boat was tossed and spun and bumped around the swirling vortex that was at the centre of the hole in Mage Guild Island.
With one final rumble, the island sank below the bay. A huge wave slowly rolled away from it, a giant swell that lifted their boat up and sent it hurtling down into the trough on the other side. By the time Timo could determine the direction, the wave had increased in size and ferocity, heading out to sea. Another, smaller wave swept in towards the rest of the Rillidi Islands.
“So that’s it,” Mole said. He sat up and carefully moved the still unconscious children back into the middle of the boat.
“That’s it,” agreed Timo. At least he thought it was. He pushed all thoughts of the dead who now lay at the bottom of the bay out of his mind. “Let’s get these children some help.” Mole was right. It was better to focus on the living, those he could help save—those he
had
saved—rather than those he’d killed. He picked up the one oar and started paddling.
HE’D EXPECTED THE
surface of the bay to be calm and clear, not this endless expanse of tangled debris. Planks and furniture and casks and even the odd bed collected into jagged islands they had to navigate around.
Mole steered them well away from the remaining guild islands but there were numerous boats out on the bay. A few seemed to be picking through the wreckage, but most just floated aimlessly—witnesses to the destruction, Timo thought. He was glad that none of them came close enough to ask questions of the lone boat heading
away
from Mage Guild Island. Mole might be convinced that Timo had done the right thing but Timo doubted the rest of the guilds would be so quick to agree.
“We’re close now,” Mole said.
They’d been rowing for hours. At least Mole had. Timo was grateful for the Assassin’s unflagging energy since he was as useful as the two children sleeping under the blankets. He waved away the last wisps of mage mist and leaned out, staring at the shore.
Old Rillidi. He’d been dreaming of it for two years—ever since he’d first met Kara Fonti and she’d told him he would always be welcome there. Mole had renewed energy, and the boat picked up speed. The rocky shore slipped past them, and Timo mentally reached out to try to get a feel of the place.
There was no magic
. At first he wondered if he simply couldn’t feel it because his own magic was so depleted—but he felt the remnants of the spell on the boat. No, there wasn’t even a whisper of underlying magic. Even on Arts Guild Island—because it had been created by spells—magic lay below every surface, under every speck of dirt, every stone block, and every tree. But here there was . . . nothing. He laughed at the absence of magic, delighted in this feeling of blindness, lightness.
“There’s no magic here,” he said in response to Mole’s questioning glance.
“We have Mages,” Mole replied. “Santos while he was alive and Giona. And now Barra.”
“Yes, I expect there will be spells but there’s no
magic
.” He swept an arm out towards the shore.
“Why would there be?” Mole asked. “What would be the point, unless you want to make it a nicer beach or something.”
“Exactly,” Timo agreed. “No one feels the need to make this nicer, to change it into something else, something unnatural, by using magic.”
“Maybe we like it the way it is.”
Timo shook his head. He liked it the way it was too—unspoiled, clean of magical tampering. He hadn’t realized just how oppressive living with so much magic had been.
Was that why Mage Guild had become so malicious and cruel? Had living amongst so much magic changed the people who lived there? It was sad to think that the best intentions of those long-ago Mages had been the first step towards the insanity that Mage Guild had become.
It would be a worthwhile thing to know, and he wished he had someone he could discuss it with. To find out what went wrong so they could stop it from happening again.
They rounded a spit of land and Timo saw two boats heading towards them. Seyoyans rowed the first boat—he recognized the blond braids. He grinned. Wuls and Yash waved frantically from the bow. Timo waved back. In the second boat, with a more sedate wave but an even more welcome sight, Kara Fonti.