Chapter 7

According to Pat, in the Americas there were two hundred and twenty-three active Mages of journeyman or higher status, counting only those who chose to associate with the Council, of course. There were others, some loners who wanted nothing to do with other Mages, and a few South American Mages who were mired down in the spiritual trappings of their tribes and considered themselves apart from the rest.

Those Mages were still policed, even more so than the rest of us. No matter if they agreed with our covenant or not, they were forced to abide by the rules.

There were also a few hundred hedge-witches and spiritualists, none of whom had enough power or control to do any real magic. They lived on the fringe of the community, and at best, tended to make livings as psychics or spiritualists. A few were priests! The ones that knew magic was actually real were often happy to just be recognized. A few fetishized the Mages and were happy just playing the parts of faithful minions.

We teleported in, appearing at the base of some wide, shallow steps leading up to a massive porch and entryway. There was a columned portico and a set of double doors at least ten feet tall, but standing there in front of the doors was, I assumed, our host.

“Pat! Damn, son, I am glad you could make it. You know, you can come and see me more than once a year,” the man advanced, smiling welcomingly and holding his hands out to Pat. He had to bend quite a bit to grasp Pat’s hands; the man was every bit of seven feet tall!

He was a light-skinned black man, impeccably dressed and smiling warmly, and it wasn’t until he stood and stretched to his full height that I recognized him.

Reggie Van Houten had been a star forward for the Georgia Bulldog basketball team all four years he attended the university. He shocked the whole sports world when he declined being drafted by the LA Clippers, stating that he had worked too hard on his degree to throw it away by playing ‘a game‘.

I was not a sports fan, but everyone knew about Reggie!

“And this must be Hank Lambert, the young man you’ve been telling me about, Pat,” Reggie held his hand out to me. His hands were scaled to fit his body, and my hand disappeared inside his big mitts!

“Pleased to meet you! You are infamous around my area. My Dad still thinks you are the greatest thing since sliced bread, but my coach thinks you were on drugs.” I told him, shaking his hand.

Reggie grinned and shook his head, then shrugged his shoulders. “I knew I would get a ration of shit about that decision, but it has been more than a decade! People should just let it go. Anyway, this lovely lady is my wife, Janice, a Mage in her own right. Janice, this is the new Wizard we were talking about, Hank Lambert. Hank, right?” he asked, stepping aside so I could shake hands with his wife.

I had to wonder how that whole battery thing worked for them. Did they each have batteries, followers of their own or did they share? That thought brought other, less appropriate thoughts, and I had to shake it off before I embarrassed myself!

Janice was several inches over six feet, with skin as dark as ebony and a smile that was startlingly bright in that dark face. She had her hair short and looked a bit like a softer, more approachable Grace Jones.

“Good to meet you, Janice. This is Maggie, my sister. Mags, this is Reginald Van Houten, president of the Council of Mages for the Americas, and this is Janice, his wife. Janice, do you have a title on the Council?”

She laughed lightly, and shook her head. “Reggie is the one with the political science and sociology degrees. Me? I tend to my flowers and ride herd on the children, and that is enough notoriety for me.”

“Don’t let her fool you, Hank, she has a degree in botany, and her orchids are constantly winning prizes. She is the Council Secretary too! Hey, as much as I would love to chat, I am playing host today so, Pat, Hank, early dinner at six? Meeting doesn’t start until eight.”

Sure enough, when I looked behind us, a half a dozen people had gathered, teleporting in silently, and they were all chatting back and forth while waiting on Reggie.

Pat and I both agreed and Janice directed us to the elevator in the corner of the entryway. “Sorry, Pat, but no rooms on the first floor, all public and service. The elevator there will take you up, rooms 202 and 204 for the two of you.”

Our bags were already in the rooms, so Maggie and I made sure our formal wear was set for the meeting and New Year’s Eve gala tonight, then decided to take a walk to look around the place.

The room itself appeared much like a hotel room anywhere, though a bit fancier than we were used to. The bathroom, especially, was lush with both a huge, glass-walled shower and a big tub.

Outside the rooms, the halls were done in brocade wallpaper above the chair rail molding about three feet from the floor. Below the chair rail, hardwood extended down to the thick, soft carpet that whispered underfoot.

We spent close to an hour just wandering around, mostly outside, and enjoying the majestic old building and grounds. We ended up at the rear of the house, sitting in a big hanging swing with a view of the Gulf of Mexico. The weather was lovely, a cool seventy, and we snuggled together and just relaxed a bit.

“Hey! Are you the power guy? The new Wizard? The one who does the thing with the gems and stuff? They said you were young like me, the only other person here that isn’t, like, ancient.”

The voice sounded like it came from a girl about the age of the Mouseketeers, maybe even younger, and was coming from behind where Mags and I were sitting. Before I could even start to turn around, the voice was suddenly in front of me and did belong to a girl, a girl with a very slim figure and big smile.

“Well? Ain’t you gonna say something?” She continued, not giving me a chance to answer any of her questions. Maggie was giggling beside me and nudging me in the side with her elbow.

“Yeah, Hank, don’t be rude, answer the lady!” she teased, earning a glare from me that didn’t even begin to phase her.

Turning back to the girl in front of me, I grinned and nodded. “I guess I am that guy, all of those things you said.

“That’s so cool! I just got, wait, what did she say? Oh yeah! I just emerged a week ago and Melissa, Ms. Gordon, explained what was happening. She gave me a spell book and everything! I am going to be her apprentice!”

“Well, um, congratulations on being a Mage and on finding a mentor. I’m Hank Lambert, by the way, and I, um, emerged, I guess, during the summer. I specialize in power, seeing, sensing, manipulating, and stuff like that. Any idea what your specialty is going to be?”

“Oh, sorry! I’m Wendy Peters and I’m from Oregon! I’ve been fascinated by the ocean and by fish and whales and stuff, ever since I could read. I can already do stuff with animals that Melissa can’t; it just, kinda, came natural. I even got an otter to bring me a fish for lunch, how cool is that? I think my specialty will be anything having to do with the water ... like, aquatic animals or something. Melissa says we will know more as I progress.”

Wendy blushed and leaned in closer, her eyes darting at Mags for a moment. “Um, are you his, I mean, are you and he...” she broke off, her face bright red and she started to step back again.

“I’m Hank’s older sister, and yes, we are lovers. I came with him because the other four girls would have a harder time getting away.” Maggie said, a puckish expression on her face as if she was hoping to shock and dismay the girl.

“Whoa! That is so majorly cool! I wish I had a cute brother, I would have ... um, well.” She broke off, realizing what she was saying, then laughed at how absurd this conversation was. “I finally talked my boyfriend into doing the deed. I had been wanting to, you know, for months and stuff. I have always been very sexual.” She admitted, then stared right into my eyes as if daring me to say something.

“My first was with Maggie’s best friend, with Maggie watching!”

“On top of a waterfall, too!” Maggie chipped in.

“You guys are the best! I was so worried that everyone here would be old, ancient even, but you guys are great!”

Maggie and Wendy seemed to hit it off and were talking a mile a minute about stuff that was way over my head. Bangs and dresses and makeup and ... lord knows.

Instead of confusing myself by trying to follow along, I was watching people. It seemed that a lot of folks were strolling by, most of them taking at least a little bit of time to look us over. It wasn’t ... predatory, not really, more as if we were a curiosity, a mystery that needed solving.

When a tall brunette with a determined, yet not unfriendly, expression started to approach us, I took a wild guess that this would be Ms. Melissa Gordon. She was dressed from head to toe in shades of green and brown, earth colors my mother would say, and she walked up to stand by Wendy’s side.

When the woman laid her hand on Wendy’s shoulder, Wendy smiled up at her but kept talking to Maggie for a moment longer, finishing her comment before turning to her Mentor.

“Ms. Gordon, may I introduce the apprentice Wizard Hank Lambert and his sister, Maggie? Guys, this is my boss, Melissa. She’s really smart, and she is teaching me so much!”

Melissa Gordon grinned at the young girl, pulling her in for a one-arm hug while reaching out with her free hand to shake ours.

“So, you are the Wunderkind that everyone is talking about, eh? You are cute enough, but you don’t look ten feel tall, and you certainly don’t breathe fire,” she said teasingly.

“No Ma’am, no fire here. Am I supposed to be a bad guy or something?” I asked, concerned about what people might think.

“Oh, only to that ... to that woman, Abigail Anders. She is telling everyone how she was sipping tea and delivering presents to orphans when you viciously attacked her with no warning at all, stripping her of much of her magic. Why, according to her, you are evil incarnate. That jackhole Newell who is sniffing around her is no better, claiming you are a charlatan.” She paused and gave me a searching look.

“Frankly, Hank, if those two hate you, I am inclined to like you without even knowing you,” she finished with a grin and a wink.

“Wow! That is a relief! That woman is so maddening! Pat calls her ... um, never mind what Pat calls her, but I have only ever talked to her one time, and she was a real bitch!”

Melissa was laughing at my comment, nodding her head. “I can just imagine what Pat calls her. Anyway, she has been a bitch as long as I have known her, a hundred and eighty years or more. She is nowhere near as strong as she likes to pretend and protects her so-called domain like a territorial Chihuahua that slipped the leash. She is all yap and no bite.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then her expression changed. “You might want to be careful of Mike Newell though, he’s a Warlock, Council muscle, though I don’t see how Reggie puts up with him. He has the Council backing. and that comes with some pretty potent magic and power.”

I debated saying anything for a moment, then just settled for a shrug. “I have run into him before, and, well I wasn’t all that impressed by him or his magic.”

Melissa’s eyes went wide, then narrowed as she studied me all over again. A slow grin seemed to spread, tugging at the corners of her mouth until it broke into a full-fledged smile.

“That is ... fascinating, Hank. I think you are going to be a very interesting fellow to watch over the next few years. Very interesting!” She nodded, then turned to look down at her charge. “Come on, Wendy, we have to get dressed. We are having dinner with that Mage I told you about, the islander, and his friends. We have to get all gussied up!”

We all said our goodbyes and split in two different directions. Wendy did turn to wave one more time before they disappeared into the rear of the manor house, and we turned toward the front.

“I like her! She reminds me of the Lynn, Bernie, and Alicia. I bet she would get along great with them. Hey, if the big honcho can have a Mage as a wife, then you could too, you know.” Maggie said, nudging me with her shoulders as we walked.

Married? Me? I was fifteen, for heaven’s sake! I wasn’t getting married for a long time, until I was much older. Maybe when I was too old to have fun anymore, like thirty.

Dinner was in a small, private room and it included Reggie and Janice, Pat with Victoria and Natalie, and to my surprise, David Drummond and a very distinguished older woman who he introduced as his wife, the Lady Elizabeth Drummond.

Once introductions were made and we had ordered drinks, a soda for me, drat it, Reggie got serious.

“Hank, Abigail Anders has leveled charges against you, and they are being supported, in principle if not in fact, by one of the two Council Warlocks, Michael Newell. Because you are a Wizard, you are, technically, not subject to the Council edicts except where they intersect with the rules of secrecy. That is why we have invited Sir David, to sit in as a proxy for the Wizards.”

“Sorry, but you said I am not subject to Council edicts, then something about rules of secrecy. Can you explain those bits?” I asked, not sure I understood what was happening here.

Reggie nodded but waved to Mr. Drummond, letting him take this one.

“My boy, as we discussed in November, Wizards are rare birds indeed. Because there are so few in the world, we hold ourselves apart. While some think we take on airs and think we are better than the rest, the truth is that the magical world would not long survive without us, so there is some precedent.

“You see, this ruling was agreed to by the whole of the magical world to keep the rarest among us safe from petty squabbling, politics, and harassment. While we are not subject to the normal rules, we also cannot run for office, sit on the council, or take on apprentices. We felt it a fair trade-off.”

“And the secrecy thing?”

“There are three inviolable rules, Hank.” Reggie said, picking up where Mr. Drummond left off. “You may not act in a manner that makes magic known to the world at large. You may not hold public office in the mundane world. You may not work for, with, or in conjunction with those who work for or with, the military of any nation. Those rules, when broken, lead to pogroms like the Salem witch hunts.”

I nodded my head to show I was listening and understood. “So, what rules do the Council and regular Mages have that I am not subject to? I mean, I am still not sure I get that.”

“If you were a regular apprentice and Abigail could prove that you deliberately attacked her or could at least get a majority to take her side, you could be punished by the Council. Your mentor would be punished as well for failing to instill proper controls on you during your training. Since Abigail has been a member of our magical society for more than four hundred years, and since she has the support of a Council Warlock, a very powerful position, the onus of proof would be on you, Hank.”

Well fuck me; that sounded like an easy way to railroad someone!

I swallowed the lump in my throat and self-consciously checked my shields.

“And now?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

“And now, they are powerless against you. The best they can hope for is a judgment against your mentor. That you have, in a very short time, become a powerful Mage in your own right, not to mention an officially recognized Wizard, well, let’s just say she has her work cut out for her.”

“How can I prove I didn’t deliberately attack her? Pat told that Newell knob that he was going to send you his memories so you could see how he attacked me, tried to kill me. Could I do the same for my one interaction with the ... um, with Ms. Anders?” From the corner of my eye, I could see Pat look chagrined at something, slapping his hand against his forehead, then he had to cover a smirk when I almost slipped and called Anders a cunt!

“Wait, Michael Newell, Council Warlock, attacked you? With intent? When was this? Why was this not reported?” Reggie was on his feet, leaning over the table now, his face set in a hard mask and his eyes boring into Pat’s.

“Hell, Reggie...” Pat started to say, but changed his mind when Reggie’s expression got harder. “Mage van Houten, I simply forgot. Other events overshadowed the fight, and I simply forgot.”

Reggie loomed for a moment more, then slowly sat down in his chair. When Pat would have spoken again, Reggie held up a hand and closed his eyes for a moment, then held up one finger indicating we should wait.

Seconds later a man appeared at Reggie’s shoulder and bent over to whisper in his ear. Reggie nodded and snapped his fingers, getting the attention of the wait staff that was standing outside the door to the room. A chair was produced, and we all shuffled a bit to make room for the newcomer.

He was introduced to all of us as Peter Gill, the second of the two Council Warlocks who worked for the Mage Council of the Americas.

“Pat, tell us what happened, from the beginning, please,” Reggie ordered, his voice calm again.

Pat went through the entire affair, from Newell contacting him about the complaint and how he, Pat, had blurted out something better kept secret. When Newell picked up on the secret ... Here Reggie interrupted.

“Secret? If Warlock Newell knows, you can be sure several others know, and it is simply a matter of time. Spill it, Patrick.”

Pat looked over at me apologetically, but I just shrugged and nodded. Closed barn door and all that.

“Hank is my apprentice. I admit I took him on because I needed a favor from him, not because I wanted an apprentice, and I performed poorly as a mentor in the beginning, ignoring him and not even giving him the background he needed to be a Mage today. I was tied up with other things, and frankly, I was an idiot.

“I learned things that were a major kick in the ass to me and drove home how very stupid I had been. For one, Hank is a Wizard, and he has a very strong affinity for power.” That comment earned me a hard, searching look from the new Warlock, but he didn’t interrupt.

“What Newell learned was that Hank can raise multiple shields. Not like Newell does, or like I do or even like you taught me, Mage van Houten. Hank can raise five or six at one time, have them rotating and feeding on one another, and regulating one another.”

That earned him several gasps and got me just as many searching looks. I could feel my face heating up, but I refused to look away, meeting each of their gazes directly.

“In addition, he has such control over them, that he can open portals in the shields and cast out of the shield from within, something no other Mage I have ever heard of can do. Now, he is not all that strong in a lot of areas, so he is not some super Mage, but spells that intersect his specialty, and that is a lot of spells, he can manipulate and change, alter at his whim, and make them do things you never thought possible.”

“You are the apprentice that does the gemstones.” Peter Gill said, speaking out loud for the first time. There was surprise in his voice, as if this bit of info filled in some blanks for him. “I heard about you, filling a twenty-Joule stone in a day when most would take a month or more to do the same.”

Into the silence, David Drummond cleared his throat and spoke.

“I have a theory,” he said, humor in his voice. “He lived for years, playing, swimming, and sleeping right on top of a point where a very powerful ley line breaches the surface. He was using a ley line scrying lens to see energy types ... before he emerged.” That earned a couple of sharp intakes of breath.

“To top it off, he lost his virginity and emerged on a broad, flat stone, warmed by the sun on one side and the very center of the ley line eruption on the underside. He absorbed more power during his emergence than most Mages absorb in their entire lives.”

Well, that set off a round of comments, jokes, and outright laughter ... and not a few questions to Maggie too! It took several minutes before we could get back on topic.

“I am telling you, sir, and I am not some wet-behind-the-ears journeyman, you trained me yourself! Newel threw everything but the kitchen sink at a kid who had just emerged a couple of months before. He hit him with so many lightning bolts that I was seeing spots behind the RV. Fireballs, spells to knock him out, to cause pain, nausea. He even tried to start a tremor to knock him off his feet,” Pat paused and shook his head, his face white at the memory.

“Reggie, Mentor, if he had attacked me like that, there would be a wet spot in the road where I once stood. I could not have withstood a fraction of what Hank took. Then, with what looked to me like a wave of his hand, he flattened Newell. Not once, but twice! Take the memory from my head yourself so you know it is a true memory. You do it, Gill, you Warlocks have that ability, right?” Pat pleaded, lowering his head as if offering it to them.

I saw Reggie and Peter Gill, no, I saw Council President van Houten and Council Warlock Gill exchange a meaningful glance and nod to one another. Together they reached over and laid hands on Pat’s head, the room quiet and still for a couple of minutes.

Then, with a look at me, I just nodded and said, “While you are in there, take my one and only conversation with Mage Addison too, please. I don’t want to have to do this a second time, I am scared enough for the first one!”

Once that was done, the President and his Warlock spent several long minutes in silent conversation before Gill, with a last nod to everyone present, stood and teleported out.

We had spent so much time with this that we had to rush through our meals, unfortunate because the food was excellent, and it deserved more time than we gave.

The Council meeting was held in the grand ballroom, an open area about the size of a basketball court. There was a long table set up along the one of the narrow ends and row after row of smaller, four and six person tables.

The noise in the room was considerable, and mostly, it seemed people were just milling around talking to friends and acquaintances. You could tell, however, that most of them were waiting for the President to come in, because as soon as our group walked through the door, people started moving towards their tables and taking seats.

Janice whispered something in Pat’s ear, and then he led us towards the rear of the room to a six-person table almost in the corner. As we took our seats, he explained that the seats were assigned by seniority, and we were some of the newest Mages, all except David Drummond’s wife, Lady Elizabeth.

When I looked around, I saw that Wendy Peters was sitting with her mentor, about a third of the way up the length of the room and figured that her mentor, Melissa Gordon, was a bit more senior than Pat.

The table at the head of the room began to fill up as well, with Reggie seated in the middle, Janice to his left, and another woman to his right. Then, moving outwards from each side were a pair of men, and, finally the two men I knew were the Warlocks, Mike Newell and Peter Gill, sitting in the outside seats. David Drummond was seated in a chair behind and to the left of Reggie, not actually at the table.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you will finish taking your seats, we can get started. I now call this conclave to order. Welcome to the two-hundred and thirty-second annual conclave of the Council of the Americas. I know most of you, but for the few newcomers, I am Reginald van Houten, President of the council.

“To my right is our Vice-President, Kathy Peele and to my left, my wife and our Secretary, Janice. To Kathy’s right is our Treasurer, Martin Bujold, and to Janice’s left is our Foreign Secretary, Jorge Montoya. The gentlemen in the two outermost positions are our Warlocks, Michael Newell and Peter Gill.”

The Secretary read the minutes of the last meeting and then the various committee heads presented their information, reports on activities during the previous year and so on. The treasurer spoke about the health of the war chest, and the diplomat spoke about discussions and exchanges between the various world councils.

It was not until the topic of New Business was raised that things started to go downhill.

Reggie had no sooner gotten the words, “Do we have any new...” out of his mouth before a very beautiful woman in the very front of the room leaped to her feet. Her voice was one I would not soon forget and did not match her appearance at all!

“I have new business, you hack! You have put me off for months, even your pet warlocks couldn’t get you to act on this heinous crime! An apprentice, backed by his master, attacked me without provocation and without warning! Together, they managed to catch me by surprise, and they have grievously wounded me! I demand justice! I demand satisfaction! I demand they be punished!”

The room was eerily silent, heads turning to scan the rear of the room where people knew I must be seated.

“Ms. Anders, please have a seat and try to maintain a little decorum. I will forgive your breach of manners because you are obviously distraught, but you will not demand anything in this conclave. You may ask, you may petition, and if the subject is of sufficient severity, you may even challenge another Mage, but you will not demand.” Reggie’s voice was as cold as ice and the last two words were like whips, staggering The Cunt.

“You will not browbeat me!” she screamed angrily, shaking her fist at Reggie. “I have been a member of this conclave for two hundred and thirty years, since two years after its creation and no one, not even you, you jumped up little toad, are senior to me since that senile fool Phipps died!” Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, causing some people to edge away from her and some to even cover their ears!

“I challenge the stripling who attacked me like a coward. I challenge the boy who stripped me of my ability to talk to others in my mind, to control my slaves without having to sully my voice with their names. I challenge him, and when he falls, he will be my slave for as long as he lives! It is my right!”

Into the deathly silence that swept the room came an incongruous sound, the sound of a chuckle. That chuckle became a laugh, and that laugh a belly-laugh that grew and grew until it could not be contained. Some joined in, finding the laugh enough reason to laugh!

From behind the sitting officers of the Council, David Drummond stood up, and still chuckling and wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, he walked forward until he stood facing the conclave.

“I am Sir David Drummond, the Earl of March, and I am five-hundred and eighty-seven years old. I was among those who debated the creation of the Council system of conclaves, and I was the deciding vote, a mere two hundred, and thirty-two years ago, to approve the creation of a Council of the Americas. I am the senior Wizard extant and an Advisor at Large to every Mage Council in existence today. Does anyone dispute my claim to seniority?”

The silence, once oppressive, was now one of surprise mixed with more than a little reverence!

“Good, good. Now, as the second most senior magic user on the planet, I have a few small prerogatives, and among them, is the right to weigh in on, and even vote on, any Council issue. I am invoking that right tonight. Hank Aaron Lambert is a Wizard.”

While I was pretty sure that most knew it, it was still a surprise when it was announced openly. Things like that usually took time, and it was exceedingly rare to have a Mage’s specialization officially announced before he or she reached journeyman status. The last time a Mage was officially named a Wizard, the person in question had been a master rank for years!

“He is a Wizard, with all rights and responsibilities of that title. As such, he is not required to submit to the barbaric practice of forced dueling, a practice, mind you, that has been outlawed in every conclave save ... one.”

His eye traveled over the assembled crowd, and it seemed that very few would meet his gaze. He seemed to find what he was looking for, however, and waved towards us.

“Hank, dear boy, do come up here, please.” He asked, waving to me. He asked, said please even, but no one in that room, least of all me, thought it was anything other than an order.

The feel of all those eyes on me made my skin crawl, and that moment, I wanted nothing more in the world than to turn and run like hell! So, what did I do? I walked up to the front like a good boy, hoping I could make it without peeing my pants.

I was only a couple of steps shy of my goal, a spot in front of the Council table when Pat whispered in my head.

“Don’t react to me ... When you get there, extend your shields to cover Sir David if you can, and pray to whatever god you follow that they are strong enough.”

I think I passed beyond scared at that moment. Why I didn’t freeze and break down crying, I’ll never know. Instead, I took those last couple of steps, and by the time I stopped in front of Sir David, he was cloaked in every shield I could raise. I had my watch, my worry stone, and the internal stores ... I was as ready as I could be.