A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (read this if txt) 📕

“I will remind you, Crater, that you are the head of state, now that you are regent,” Coosin said. “Maskumite magicians might be returning to Wistfall.

Trevor nodded. “Maskum has performed acts of war against the world, and it is now time to bring the war to them.”

Crater pursed his lips and nodded. “I am afraid that Queen Marta will never be the same after what that Maskumite magician did to her. Where are you off to next?”

“Kyria. Lister Vale has been in contact with their seer. Lissa and I will have to travel overland to their capital. In the meantime, the Viksarans are mustering and moving south, and the Brachians are approaching Argara.”

~

Trevor wished he rode Snowflake, but he had to sacrifice the comfort of riding his own steed for the ability to flit from capital to capital, putting together an international alliance. Lissa didn’t complain as they rode through the hilly country east of the mountain range that separated Kyria from Jarkan.

The ride was punishing since Trevor had to work with tight or uncertain time constraints. The armies were moving, and it was doubtful that Maskum wouldn’t respond. They were two days out of the Kyrian capital when a pack of magicians and swordsmen attacked them.

Ten people stretched across the road, and as Trevor looked back, more attackers filled the road behind them.

“I don’t know who has betrayed us, but we can’t fight all these people. Pull the bags off your horse as soon as we stop. I’m teleporting us out of here,” Trevor said.

Trevor looked past the brigands and took Lissa’s hand just as the attack began to take place. They appeared a few hundred paces farther up the road, and Trevor teleported in line of sight until they reached a town.

“We need to hire a few horses,” Trevor said, his head spinning from the transfers. He put his purse in Lissa’s hand. “I have to go outside.”

He turned as soon as he stepped in the stable yard and emptied the contents of his stomach. Trevor didn’t know if Lissa was in the same shape he was, but he began to wobble as he tried to make it back inside the stable yard office and collapsed as soon as he made it inside the door.

When Trevor woke up, he was tied onto the back of a horse, leaning forward. “Untie me!” Trevor called out to Lissa, who rode ahead of him, holding his horse’s reins.

She stopped and did as Trevor asked before helping him down.

“Are you feeling better?”

Trevor blinked hard, trying to repress the headache that he felt. “Better than what? I’m only feeling slightly better than being killed on the road.”

“Then let’s rest a bit. We are an hour past the town where you passed out.”

Trevor found a waterskin tied to his horse and took a few big gulps. “I think I’m good enough to continue as long as we go slow,” he said. “I won’t be trying that again. How do you feel?”

“Woozy and drained, but I’m not as bad off as you are. If we weren’t needed in the Kyrian capital, I would have had us spend the night, but as it turns out, we are only half a day away.”

“I can make it for that long,” Trevor said. He took another long pull from the waterskin and poured the rest over his head. “Let’s go.”

They mounted up, and Trevor fought for the energy he needed to keep riding. They reached the capital as the sun set, and Lissa kept them going until they reached the Dryden church. They entered the building, but Trevor stopped before he made it through the door.

“I’d like to see the seer. It is a matter of importance,” Trevor said.

Trevor and Lissa sat on a bench in front of a prayer stand and waited. A cleric in fancy robes walked up to him. A man walked at the seer’s side, but he didn’t wear a cleric’s robes. Trevor leaned over. “Is there a man next to the seer?”

Lissa furrowed her brow. “Man?”

Trevor stood, fighting a moment of weakness. He drew his sword and pointed it at the seer’s companion, a Maskumite magician. Now he knew the source of the assassins. A white bolt splashed against his Maskumite diving outfit, and that was all Trevor needed to run the man through

The seer backed up. “Help! This man has just tried to—” The seer looked down as the Maskumite magician began to appear. “What is this?”

“A little voice that persuaded you to do bad things,” Trevor said. “I am Trevor Arcwin, and this is Lissa Caspur.”

“Seer Caspur’s daughter?”

“I am,” Lissa said. “You’ve been ensorcelled by the Maskumites.”

The seer shook his head. “Perhaps.” He raised his hand as Trevor and Lissa were surrounded by clerics. A few brandished knives.

“Here,” Lissa handed the seer an invisibility charm. “We’ve been too late in getting these out,” she said.

“Take the body to the constabulary,” the seer said, looking disdainfully at the bleeding body. “You managed to evade the man’s attack. I wonder how long the leech has been sucking the vitality from me.”

Lissa gave the seer a sympathetic expression. “Whenever your people say you and your actions changed. The same thing has been repeated in other countries.”

The seer nodded. “Come with me,” he said, fingering the charm before putting it over his head. “I have heard of both of you, but from different sources.”

They followed the seer to his office and sat down. “I would offer you refreshments first, but after I’ve had the worst of my curiosity satisfied. I was told you would be coming north from Sirland, and I felt that you had nothing but ill will toward Kyria.” The seer put his head in his hands. “I’ve also been fighting with the