Mageborn The Line of Illeniel by Michael Manning (top novels of all time TXT) 📗

and a few well-placed words. “There’s something here, but I’m not sure what or who.”

Who or what, what or who, he hears us no matter what we do.

It was mental, not a voice at all. That gave me some concern; nothing should be able to speak directly to my mind while my inner shield was up. I stretched out my senses, expanding them to find whoever was playing these tricks.

“Mort, what’s going on?” Penny said.

“Someone is talking to me. Give me a moment; I’m trying to find them.” I couldn’t concentrate and answer her questions at the same time. We stood in the street for several minutes while I searched the area with my mind. I found nothing. Finally I gave up and we started walking again. I explained what I had ‘heard’ but neither of them had any better idea as to what it might have been.

The fact that I hadn’t been able to find the person responsible had me worried. I immediately thought of the creature Penny and I had fought that night two weeks ago. I had been looking for ‘holes’ though. I should have been able to spot the empty place even if it was one of them. I really needed a name for whatever those creatures were.

Whatever this had been, it managed to speak directly to my mind, despite my shields. That shouldn’t be possible. I remained watchful for the rest of our walk, not that it did any good. Soon enough we reached my father’s house.

“This is it,” Rose said, but I already knew that. The large stone mansion fairly glowed in my sight. Unlike the rest of the city it was constructed of grey granite and every part of it was enchanted. Each stone looked to be individually worked with runes, making them stronger and linking them together. No mortar was in evidence, none was needed. The gaps between the stones were so tiny I doubt I could have slipped a fingernail between them.

The house appeared to be three stories tall; which made it stand out among the shorter buildings in the neighborhood. “The house is not warded,” I stated simply, but the fact was hard to comprehend. Enchanting each stone must have taken a lifetime.

“Are you sure?” Rose questioned, “The stories about this house make it sound as if it is guarded by a thousand magics.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t being clear. The house isn’t guarded by anything as simple as wards; rather the entire structure is enchanted. How could my father have done this? It would have taken most of his life to build.” My awe was evident in my voice.

“He didn’t build it. This house was built not long after the founding of Albamarl, some seven hundred years ago. It was built by one of your great-grand-sires,” she clarified.

That gave me pause. What would it have been like to be raised here, surrounded by magic? Guided by a father who knew magecraft and the history of our family; life would have been very different. For a moment I felt the loss, the knowledge that could never be regained. I was a stranger to my family’s past, picking at the threads of a long frayed tapestry; trying to reconstruct a story of men long gone.

Nothing would be gained standing in the street, so I stepped up to the door. It was a massive oak construction, wide enough for two men to stand abreast. The timbers were so wrapped in runes and symbols that they looked almost gold in my sight. Reaching out I attempted to touch the door-handle, but my hand came up short, stopping several inches from it. An invisible barrier prevented me from even contacting it.

Since that day in Lancaster when I had struggled to get into Devon Tremont’s room I had not met a door I could not pass. One of the first things I studied when things calmed down was the art of spelling locks to open. This was not a lock however, it was a magical barrier. Using a few words and a mental push I tried to force my way through the barrier but it resisted me. It felt as though it were as hard as the granite the house was made of, resolute and unyielding.

Penny spoke up, “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get in. It seems my father forgot to put a key under the doormat for me.” I redoubled my efforts, seeking to pry apart the magic that held me at bay. The air began to crackle with static discharges as I put more and more effort into forcing the barrier aside. I tried subtle tricks to slip past the protections, I tried clever spells to hide my presence, and I tried brute force. Nothing worked. “Goddammit!”

It was frustrating to be so close to such a major part of my past, yet be unable to enter. The thought of the secrets and knowledge my parents might have left inside filled me with yearning. The door didn’t seem to care. I lost my temper and attacked it, driving at it with a wedge of pure force, attempting to batter the door down. The house didn’t like that. Lightning enfolded me, wrapping me in blue light, burning through my shield and setting my nerves on fire. Screaming I collapsed in the doorway.

I came to in the middle of the road; Penny had dragged me, still twitching back from the door. “Dammit Mort, if you’re going to do something stupid at least warn me first!”

“Let’s just assume I’m always doing something stupid. It’s quicker and easier for both of us,” I replied as I tried to stand up, but my legs had turned to jelly. Penny steadied me.

We can rend it asunder son of Illeniel. Let us tear it down.

“Who is that!?” I yelled, looking around me.

“What’s wrong Mort?” Penny had a worried expression.

“They’re talking to me, but I can’t find them!” I was staring around me; paranoia was beginning to take hold.

“Who? There’s no one