Errol stayed in his room for the rest of the day, pacing, trying to read, or just staring out the window at the forest. Around sunset, he went for a walk. He didn’t go to the office of Phoenix, deciding to see his family in the morning. He walked along the harbor, the afternoon crowd clearing away as the sun dipped closer to the horizon. Errol stopped at the harbor wall, staring out at the calm sea. He didn’t know what to do. He gripped the stone wall until his hands ached.
The feeling inside of him he now knew was his magic was still getting stronger. He thought of the gray threads he’d seen floating in the air in Blackridge. Was that magic? His father had said magic looked like threads, and that inert magic was always gray. Errol thought about what he’d seen, closing his eyes, trying to steady his mess of thoughts. When he opened his eyes the gray threads were there, the strands drifting lazily through the air. Apparently they would change color if a witch reached out to them with their magic, a different color depending on who was doing it.
Errol wasn’t sure if his illusion spirit magic worked the same way, or really how it worked at all. And that fur on his leg… Was he going to become what his father was? He thought that was likely since the magic he’d accidentally used against the Wight had definitely been an illusion. He let himself stop seeing the magic in the air and realized it was almost dark out. He was alone at the harbor. Errol turned away from the wall and hurried toward home.
He had just stepped into the narrow alleyway that would lead him home when something slammed into him from the side, throwing him against the wall. Errol stumbled to his feet quickly, but saw nothing else in the alleyway. Was it the invisible attacker? Something solid hit his right shoulder, then threw him to the ground. Errol cried out, backing away on the ground, but not knowing where the attacker was.
The ground shook, cracks spreading through it as the attacker picked him up and threw him against the wall again. The breath rushed out of him. The shaking had stopped, and the cracks were gone. Fire flared to life all around Errol just as a rock threw itself at him. Errol barely moved out of the way in time, the fire vanishing. His magic was wild inside of him, but it was doing nothing against the attacker. If it was a person, shouldn’t they have been surprised by the cracking ground and the fire?
Errol turned and ran, not stopping until he reached the house. He went inside, closing the door and locking it behind him. There was a thud, the door shaking as though something heavy had slammed into it. Francis hurried over. The thud came again, over and over.
“What is that?” Francis asked, the two backing away from the rattling door.
“The invisible attacker my father and uncle mentioned,” Errol said.
The rattling and thuds stopped suddenly. Errol and Francis stared at the door, but the silence continued.
“I think it’s gone…” Errol said quietly.
“You have a cut on your neck,” Francis said.
Errol touched the shallow cut. “I’m sure I’ll have bruises in the morning, but nothing’s broken.”
The attacker hadn’t responded to his illusions, had carried on attacking the entire time. Was it actually a person? Francis looked at the door again, then dragged a chair in front of it.
“I know it’s not much, but the lock on this door isn’t that sturdy,” Francis said.
Errol helped him lift the other chair on top of the first, to give their barrier a little more heft. Even then, Errol didn’t sleep much that night. He was even more sore in the morning, but the bruises weren’t as dark as he’d thought they would be, and the cut looked fine. There was fur on his right side and a patch of it across his chest. At least it was nowhere he couldn’t hide it. He stared at the fur, then pulled on a shirt and left the washroom.
He couldn’t keep quiet about his magic for much longer. Especially since he couldn’t control it, and somehow it was still getting stronger. But for now, he couldn’t bring himself to face it. Or maybe he just didn’t want to figure out how he actually felt about any of this. How could Vedrix have been wrong? If he had lied, why? Errol had breakfast at the office of Phoenix, with his father and uncle.
“You have a bruise on your face,” Lindell said as soon as Errol walked into the kitchen. “Did it happen in Blackridge?”
Hector turned away from the stove quickly.
“It happened last night,” Errol said. “I was out later than I meant to be and was attacked by something invisible.”
Hector growled. “I’ve had no more luck tracking that odd scent. Whoever it is just vanishes.”
Errol hesitated. “Are you sure it’s a person? It seemed… It was like a wild animal, or maybe something else.” He shook his head, not sure how to explain.
“We’ve been wondering as well,” Lindell said. “We’re not sure it is a person. We got it to come after us while you and Francis were away, but we couldn’t capture it, and it didn’t react to my illusions. A person would have reacted, at least paused in their attack, unless they were prepared for such a thing.”
Hector brought the pot of porridge to the table and the three of them sat, dishing it into their bowls in silence.
Hector asked the question Errol had been dreading. “How did it go in Blackridge?”
“We were attacked by a Wight,” Errol said, wanting to get it over with, but he wasn’t ready to mention the magic.
“A Wight?” Hector had gone tense.
“Are you hurt?” Lindell asked.
“We’re both fine,” Errol said. “It was badly weakened, so we got away.”
Lindell’s ears were down and his tail was still. “I suppose even that didn’t convince Francis that looking into these legends is a terrible idea?”
“We’re going to look into something closer to home,” Errol said.
Hector took his glasses off, his eyes feline and brown. When they were like that, he didn’t need his glasses. They often did that when he was worried, but it was usually only brief. “Maybe we should have a talk with Francis.”
Errol shook his head, moving his porridge around the bowl absently with his spoon. “I haven’t had any luck with that before.” But had he tried hard enough?
“Maybe the three of us could talk to him together,” Lindell said gently.
“He said we would pick a less dark legend, and closer to home,” Errol said. “That’s an improvement.” He was trying to convince himself.
Hector’s eyes went back to normal and he put his glasses back on. “Promise you won’t go to the cursed desert, even if Francis is set on going there. We’ll lock him in the office and give him a talking to if he decides to be that foolish.”
“I promise,” Errol said.
-- --
Francis returned right after Errol got back to the house. His cousin had never looked so stormy.
“They won’t stop meddling in my life,” Francis said. “They’re trying again to set me up with a girl I have no interest in. I’ve never met someone so boring and…vapid.” He shook his head, sitting across from Errol at the table. “There’s a legend we can look into right away. It’s only a day’s walk from here, and it’s still morning.”
Errol tried not to groan. “Where is it? What’s the legend?”
Francis smiled, his tense shoulders relaxing a little. “The only specifics for location for this legend are being out in a forest, away from any settlements. I figure a day’s walk should take us far enough away. As for the legend… You’ll see when we get there, but I promise it’s nothing dark or scary.”
Errol didn’t like the realization that he didn’t believe his cousin, but he said nothing.
“We’ll be back soon enough,” Francis said. “I know you want to tell your family, but we’ll be back before they even notice we’re gone. You stayed away from the office when we were working on the house longer than we’ll be gone. And I told Leila where we’re going, so someone knows.” He frowned hard. “She wasn’t happy. She tried to lecture me about dragging you off to dangerous places.” He shook his head and got up. “Let’s hurry and pack.” His stormy mood had entirely vanished.
Were they going somewhere dangerous? Errol hadn’t moved from the table.
Francis was staring at him. “I promise it’s not a shrine to a god, or an abandoned village that was wiped out.” He hurried up the stairs.
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Errol sighed, then went up to his room and packed. The two left as soon as they were done packing, heading into the forest past their house, so they wouldn’t have to pass through town or through the front gate. Arkose only had a wall and gate on the plains side of town, opposite the sea. There was forest on the other two sides, but one side of the forest was rocky and hard to pass through, so going this way was best.
They walked until late at night, when Francis stopped and looked around. The forest looked the same as it had since that morning. Usually Errol enjoyed walking in the forest, but he had dreaded what was going to happen too much to enjoy it this time. Francis set his bag down and Errol did the same, to get the weight off his weary shoulders. Francis found a sturdy stick and drew a circle in the dirt, followed by several odd symbols around it, and a larger one inside. He took a sprig of a plant Errol didn’t recognize and tossed it into the center of the circle.
Francis whispered something under his breath, backing away from the circle and the symbols. Errol moved away with him, even more worried now. What was he doing? Francis stopped whispering, a heavy silence falling over the forest. The rustling of bushes and leaves, the distant hooting of owls, had all gone silent. Something moved among the trees. Errol stiffened when a huge white wolf, almost as big as he was, approached the circle.
“The Sentinel…” Francis whispered. “A guardian of the forest.”
The wolf set to work eating the plant at the center of the circle. Francis took a step closer and Errol reached for his shoulder, but Francis hurried away from him, closer to the wolf. What was he doing? Errol had broken out in a cold sweat. Francis moved closer until the wolf looked at him sharply. Errol finally managed to move, slowly walking to stand beside Francis. The wolf growled, staring at Francis. It didn’t even glance at Errol. Francis started to take another step.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Errol whispered. “It seems angry.”
Francis ignored him and stepped closer. The wolf growled louder, then it struck. Errol pushed Francis out of the way, heat flaring across his chest, then an odd tingling as the wolf’s claws passed straight through him, as though he wasn’t there. Most of the blow had passed through, but the claws had still bit into him deeply at first. Errol looked down at his shredded shirt, already soaked with blood. It was hard to tell in the gloom of the forest how bad the wounds were, but that was a lot of blood.
The wolf growled again, turning to look at Francis, who moved between the wolf and Errol. Errol’s chest throbbed and burned, too much for him to get the words out, to warn Francis that the wolf was after him. The wolf ducked down, ears back, as though ready to leap. A woman rushed in front of them, holding her arms out to the sides. The wolf’s ears relaxed. It whined, looking suddenly much friendlier. The woman lowered her arms and took a step closer, gently stroking the wolf’s muzzle and whispering to it.
She wore long brown robes, dirty and a little ragged. Her long dark brown hair was tied back loosely. She had antlers like a deer, pale and with a few runes carved into them. Her ears were longer than those of a human, round on the end, and flat on the inside. Similar to those of a deer. The wolf whined again, more quietly this time, then he turned and walked away, vanishing among the trees. The woman turned to face them. Her dark gray eyes narrowed when she looked at Francis.
“The Sentinel didn’t like what he saw in you,” the woman said. Her expression softened when she looked at Errol. “He didn’t mean you harm.”
The bleeding seemed to have slowed, but the gashes still throbbed.
“Who are you?” Francis asked. “I didn’t mean the Sentinel any harm.”
“You may not have meant him harm, but he didn’t like what he saw in you,” she said. “I am Eireen, Priest of Iterna. The Sentinel is a friend of the Goddess of Nature, and of her priests.”
Eireen…
“You’re my mother?” Errol asked, the words coming out quiet. He hadn’t ever thought he would meet her.
Eireen’s expression softened further. “I am.” She looked away quickly. “I’m sorry, but I must go.” She looked around at the trees and smiled briefly. “I’m sorry, Errol…” she whispered. She walked away, not looking back.
Did she regret leaving him and his father? Errol had seen it in her eyes that she loved the forest, and he didn’t doubt she loved Iterna, more than she could ever love him and his father. He couldn’t hold that against her. After all, Eireen wouldn’t be a Priest of Iterna if she didn’t love the forest and her goddess. Iterna never took unwilling priests.
“That was your mother?” Francis asked, breaking the silence. He sighed. “You really got the short end of the stick when it came to magic. Neither of your parents is human, but somehow you’re the most ordinary human I’ve ever met.”
Errol didn’t know what to say, but it was more than that now. How would Francis react if he knew about the magic? Much as he hated to admit it, Errol wasn’t sure he should tell his cousin about his magic, wasn’t sure if he could trust him anymore.
“Why did you summon the Sentinel?” Errol asked.
Francis frowned hard. “The legends say if you find the beast it will grant you a wish.” He shook his head and looked at Errol. “The beast must have held back. The way it struck you, I thought for sure it was going to kill you. Maybe it held back because of who your mother is.”
Or maybe it was because he had become incorporeal. Somehow.
“Let me see,” Francis said, taking a step closer.
Errol recalled the fur on his chest and side. “It’s not deep. I’ll be fine.” He turned away quickly. “We should find somewhere to sleep for the night.”
The two walked a ways back in the direction of Arkose, stopping only when the place where Francis had summoned the Sentinel was out of sight. Hopefully the wolf wouldn’t come looking for Francis now that Eireen had calmed him down. As soon as Francis was asleep, Errol took a closer look at the gashes. They were deep, but no longer bleeding. The fur had spread. Errol cleaned the gashes with supplies from his bag and covered them with bandages, then he managed to sleep a little before morning.
The two returned to Arkose, reaching the house at night. Errol’s wounds had bled through the bandages, but with how much blood was on his shirt, it was hard to tell. Francis looked worried, but he said nothing. Errol went to the washroom while Francis went straight to bed. Taking a bath hurt, even if the gashes were mostly closed, but he felt better when he was finally clean, with fresh bandages and clothes.
He sat on his bed, staring out the window at the forest. He was being ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to tell Francis about his magic right now, but he was going to tell his father and his uncle the truth in the morning. Vedrix had hidden his magic for a reason, and they needed to find out why. He also couldn’t control his magic. Spirit magic wasn’t the same as a witch’s magic. This wasn’t something he could find out more about at the library. Errol didn’t know all the details, but spirits could become demons, and demons could eat spirits to make themselves stronger.
His father had said he was safe from being eaten by demons because he had a corporeal form. Errol thought of the odd feeling as the wolf’s claws had passed right through him. When his magic was done with him, would he still have a corporeal form, or would he always be in danger of being eaten by demons? He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. Francis’s obsession with magic had gotten worse, or maybe Errol had just been in denial until now. He was done investigating legends, done chasing after Francis to dangerous places.
Errol closed his eyes tighter and rolled onto his side, away from the moonlight through the window. He didn’t want Francis to put himself in danger, but what more could he do? He would talk to Francis about all of this, but first he would worry about telling his father and uncle about his magic. Errol knew he was just putting off talking to Francis. That thought chased him into a restless sleep. When he went downstairs in the morning, Francis was just finishing breakfast.
“I’m off to the library,” Francis said. “See you there?”
“Later,” Errol said.
Francis frowned a little, but left the house without a word.
Errol left for the office, after making sure the gashes weren’t bleeding through his shirt, which they weren’t. The office door was still closed for the morning, so he used his key. In the kitchen, Hector was cooking and Lindell was sitting at the table with a man Errol hadn’t seen in almost two years. Errol couldn’t help but stiffen when he saw his father talking to Vedrix, the God of Magic. He looked about the same age as Hector, though he had to be much older. His long pale purple hair was tied back. His eyes were the same light gray as inert magic. He and Lindell stopped talking when Errol walked in. Vedrix frowned a little when he looked at Errol.
“Morning,” Errol said, not sure what else to say.
“I came to help with Nox’s wayward artifact,” Vedrix said. “Nox is a friend, and he’s occupied and can’t come himself.”
Hector set the pot of porridge on the table. Errol, Lindell, and Hector got bowls, but Vedrix didn’t. Errol had never seen Vedrix eat. He didn’t know if the gods needed food, and he had never quite dared ask. Maybe Vedrix just didn’t like porridge.
“Where did you and Francis go?” Hector asked, breaking the silence.
Errol stiffened.
“Leila told us the two of you went somewhere,” Lindell said.
Errol glanced at Vedrix, but didn’t want it to seem like he was hesitant to talk in front of him. “Francis summoned the Sentinel. It didn’t like what it saw in him and attacked. Mother rescued us.”
Lindell’s tail stopped moving. “You saw Eireen?”
Errol nodded. “She calmed the Sentinel down.” He didn’t mention the wounds, in case they would want to take a look at them. He didn’t dare mention his magic in front of Vedrix.
The God of Magic was frowning hard. “The Sentinel could have done far worse than attack. The boy is a fool.” He raised a brow at Errol. “Looking into legends is hardly better.”
“I’m done investigating legends,” Errol said.
Vedrix stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment, but said nothing more.
Errol ate quickly. He helped his father clean up, but his father followed him into the front room when he was leaving. Hector and Vedrix were still in the kitchen, talking quietly. With Vedrix so close, Errol didn’t dare tell his father about the magic.
“I’m glad you got to see your mother,” Lindell said. “She…” He seemed uncertain how to continue.
“She still cares about us,” Errol said, “but she loves the forest and Iterna more.”
Lindell nodded. “She didn’t leave because she doesn’t care.”
“I know,” Errol said. “I understand why she felt she had to leave, and if she came back to visit, she would just be conflicted about leaving or staying.”
Lindell smiled. “Are you really done looking into legends?”
“I am,” Errol said. “I’m going to talk to Francis about it.”
