101. Distraction and Mirage (Patreon)

Oz glanced over his shoulder as he approached the central tent. “Aisling, you there?”

“Right here,” she replied quietly.

Pausing at the flap, he licked his lips. “Er, be prepared, okay? You’re going to see something very shocking. I need you to stay quiet, no matter what you see.”

“Understood.”

Oz glanced at the space beside him, then nodded. He stepped into the darkness of the tent’s confines.

White fabric soared up to the open ring above, the central pole piercing through Naomhan’s shoulder and down to the floor. Wolf blood slicked the pole to a dark red, slowly sinking into Naomhan below.

Aisling gasped. Her footsteps staggered backward.

Oz reached out. He patted her hand.

Aisling caught his and squeezed it. “What is that?”

“A dark magic formation. Morag—a disciple of the Severance Sect—is trying to revive their Patriarch, Naomhan, through dark magic.” Oz looked up at Naomhan and took a deep breath. “I’m not sure Naomhan is alive.”

“He looks so alive, but…high realm mages remain unchanging, even after death. He could very well have passed on in secluded cultivation.” Aisling paused. “No…if he were alive, the qi around us would be so thick we’d struggle to breath. You’re right. Naomhan is dead.”

“So there was never any hope to revive him,” Oz murmured, half to himself.

“No. Naomhan was dead to begin with.”

Oz lowered his head, pressing his lips together. How unfortunate for Morag. Getting fooled by dark mages into corrupting herself for no gain. After a moment, he furrowed his brows and stared back up at the pole. “But Loup’s mother, the wolf…she said that her power was being drained. Something is taking her qi somewhere. If it isn’t going into Naomhan, where is it going? It can’t all be used for the glamour, right?”

After all, my own glamour barely takes any qi to maintain. It’s true that the wolf’s glamour is far stronger than mine, and far larger and more expansive, but she’s also far stronger than me in commensurate measure. By my estimate, the majority of her qi is unaccounted for.

Aisling turned, her feet scuffing on the ground. “For that matter, was Naomhan dead when Morag brought him here? Or did the dark mages fool her into thinking that this was a solution, only to harvest both the wolf’s qi and Naomhan’s qi for some dark end?”

Oz put a hand on his chin. “It’s disconcertingly possible. After all, the dark mage we’ve seen so far is possessing Baltair’s body. They’re like me, a possession or projection, not the dark mage’s true form. Perhaps…perhaps they lured Morag to kill the wolf and use it to ‘cure’ Naomhan, tricking her into harvesting both Naomhan and the wolf’s qi for some greater evil.”

“But what greater evil would that be?” Aisling wondered.

Oz shook his head. “Later. For now, let’s go cooperate with the wolf. If we expose the glamour, the Mages’ Quarter should immediately come to crush this camp, long before it gets up to proper operating speed.”

“Yes,” Aisling agreed.

“What was all that?” a voice murmured from behind them.

Oz and Aisling both jumped apart. Morag stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips.

Oh, shit, Oz thought, backing away. He activated his movement technique, moving silently toward Naomhan.

Morag squinted. “You worms. Did you think such pathetic disguises could fool me?”

“Why not?” Oz shouted, pointing his mouth at the sky to let his voice echo off the tent. Draw her attention. She should have a harder time finding me than Aisling. Plus, Aisling needs to get into location. I just need to be in shouting range of the wolf.

Morag darted across the room faster than Oz imagined her moving. He barely ducked in time, avoiding her grab by a hair. He crouched there, in the space between her outstretched arm and her body.

She narrowed her eyes. “Little rats, stop hiding and come out.”

Oz stretched out his fingertips to touch the ground and pushed off, darting halfway across the tent. In the next instant, Morag smashed her foot down on the ground where he’d been. Dust rose from the sheet underfoot.

She growled. “I hear you, mouse.”

“You believe that those dark mages can revive Naomhan. But he’s already long dead,” Oz taunted her.

Morag’s body blurred. Before she landed, Oz already leaped away, backing toward Naomhan.

Behind him, a soft poof sounded from Naomhan’s shoulder as Aisling climbed up toward the wolf.

Just a little longer. I just have to distract Morag for a little longer!

To his surprise, Morag drew back. She narrowed her eyes, searching the space. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

Shit! I don’t need this! She needs to keep her eyes on me. I have the double extra protection from glamour cast through a barrier. Aisling just has her master’s charm, and I have no idea how strong that is. If she sees Aisling, we’re fucked! Distraction, I need another distraction! Oz cast around, then clenched his fists. Let’s go for broke! He pushed off the ground hard, flying backward behind Naomhan.

Morag whipped around. She darted toward his footprint, slamming her fist down toward the print. Her fist struck straight through the cloth, throwing up dirt on the other side. “Show yourself, coward.”

“Morag!” Oz shouted. “Face the truth. Naomhan drew his last breath long ago!”

Overhead, the ring creaked. Oz glanced up. Aisling is in position. We’re good to go.

On the other side of Naomhan, Morag laughed. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Well, distraction success, but I don’t think I’m going to like what she’s about to say, Oz thought, quickly moving away from where he’d spoken. Peeking out from behind Naomhan, he eyed Morag, waiting.

At last, Morag stopped laughing. She shook her head. “Did you think I didn’t know? No. Naomhan has been dead a long, long time.”

“Eh?” Oz muttered to himself. But the other disciples, Brigid and Caibre, they thought he was still alive. Did they misunderstand something?

“Only a few of us knew. His closest confidants in life. He passed years ago, locked away in seclusion. We faced an impossible choice. Our sect’s glory is diminishing. Our hold over the Mages’ Quarter is gone. Did we admit Naomhan had died? That our lone sixth-stage mage was no more, that our claimnant for Grand Magus had passed on? No. To admit that would mean to relinquish what little power we held onto. So we decided, all of us, together, that we would keep it a secret. Naomhan had not died. He was still cultivating in seclusion, not dead.

“But it was futile. The more time passed since his death, the more his teachings were diluted, and the more our power slipped away. The only hope the Severance Sect had of returning to its former glory was for Naomhan to return. Our disciples held out hope, but how could we? We knew the truth. There was no hope of glory. We were but a paper tiger, powerful from outside, but rotten and weak on the inside.

“And now the question of Grand Magus has once more arisen. Naomhan must appear, or else Severance Sect loses its last claim to power, and fades away entirely.”

Morag took a deep breath. She shook her head. “Rather than letting our Severance Sect fade away, I took the only path that remained to put the Severance Sect back in its rightful place atop the Mages’ Quarter. If Naomhan could not wake, then I would create a way to wake him, even from the dead!”

Alright. She’s insane, Oz thought. He eyed the route to the ring at the top of the tent. Can I make it there in time?

Morag’s eyes darted to him. She closed in in an instant, looming over him. “And now, it’s time to kill the foolish mouse that thought it could nibble at my Patriarch’s corpse.”

Fuck! Oz tensed, terrified.