Fireballs Among Friends: Part Nine

      Rasala snorted. "I lack the strength to transport or walk up to that dune. At least the sandstorm's stopped."

      Seradar nodded grimly. "Some small mercy – as what's left of my tower after that Fyora-blasted thing exploded wouldn't keep a sandstorm out."

      Miskal reached up and caught a couple stray papers that blew by on the wind. Thankfully, the ruins of the tower had scattered outward away from its foundations, keeping any stone from falling on their heads. Rasala looked over at the king and the twins – the twins were beginning to stir, but Jazan was still out cold. What had he been thinking, cutting the twins out of the spell and pouring his own strength into keeping the creature still? That was the reason mages worked together!

      Miskal said, worried, "We need to get shelter before nightfall. The borderlands are a bad, bad place after nightfall. Who can we call? We've barely got the combined power left to light a candle, let alone scry or communicate without even anything to use as an anchor. And we don't have the time to dig through the tower's ruins."

      He was right. The sun was westering – they had perhaps an hour until nightfall, no more. Who carried something that had been spelled to be a communicator around with them?

      Oh.

      Rasala said, pushing herself to her feet, "The ring! The king's wedding ring. Remember when he gave it to the twins and said they could use it to get back to Qasala?"

      Yvenya sniffed. "Irrelevant. Even all together, I doubt we have the power left to transport ourselves back to Qasala."

      Rasala said, "We don't need to transport. We just need to communicate. Get some of their mages out here to take us back." She stumbled over to Caspar, and shook his shoulder.

      He murmured, "Don't wanna get up. Go 'way, Jessa."

      "Caspar, it's me. Rasala the Bright. Can we use your father's ring? I'd like to call your mother and Qasala's mages to take us back there."

      Caspar blinked his violet eyes and sat up. "Let me wake Aldie. We can use it together. Father won't wake, though. When Aldie and I got scared, he powered most of that barrier himself. Mama says he does that a lot." He shook his sister, and without any visible explanation passing between them the two of them clasped hands around the ring. Rasala knew that most twin mages had telepathic connections, but she'd had no idea that it would be so simple, and yet so strange.

      Caspar said, "Mama, it's us. We're okay, and Father's okay. But there was a lot of magic, and we're all tired. There are more Order of the Red Erisim mages with us, too – two of them. Could you send Mirzah to us? We'll tell you the story later."

      He paused for a moment, and they both chorused, "Love you too, Mama." Then Aldie swayed, and Caspar collapsed back onto what remained of Seradar's kitchen floor. Rasala caught the boy before he knocked his head on the stone. Aldie murmured, "They'll be here soon." Then she curled up on the floor and went to sleep next to her brother and her father.

      Rasala went ahead and sat down as well, since the kitchen furniture was nowhere to be seen. Her borrowed robes had scorch marks – there was no point in attempting to keep them clean. Seradar sat beside her, groaning as he did, then asked frankly, "Did you mean it? Did you mean that you'd fight to have me reinstated in the Order?"

      She nodded. "You didn't deserve that expulsion in the first place, your behavior has been exemplary, and even if I can't convince King Jazan to join the Order, the references I have obtained from Fyora and Jerdana should be enough to allow him to vouch for you as well."

      Yvenya said, settling herself neatly, "I will second the motion. Miskal, will you join us?"

      Miskal asked tentatively, "What of Grimjon?"

      Yvenya's voice was ice. "He will remain silent, or I will choose to make a rather large issue out of his irresponsibility and cowardice this day."

      Rasala knew it was petty of her. But Grimjon had been her biggest opponent, and Yvenya had been his biggest supporter. If she'd lost respect for him, he was done for. He would never threaten her position in the Order again, and if she hadn't been so tired she would have stood up and cheered. She'd done it. Not how she'd intended it, and she wished there had been less destruction of property, but she'd solidified her position and she'd finally be able to get started on the real work.

      They didn't have to wait much longer before the sand swirled and the Qasalan mages appeared, accompanied by the queen. She went straight to the king, and she and a massive Elephante with a general's tunic helped him to his feet, though he was clearly still unconscious, his head hanging low. Rasala was aided by a tiny blue Acara with long amber hair. "I'm Mirzah. Head of the Qasalan Mages' College. You're Rasala, and you must have made a good impression if the king didn't turn you into a Scamander. Trying to talk him into joining the Order?"

      Rasala felt a little like she'd been knocked upside the head with something. She was normally capable of keeping up with fast talkers, but in her wearied state she had trouble keeping up. "That was the idea."

      "Well, he'll never do it, but come talk to me once you've had a good night's sleep. I've always wanted to learn about the Moltaran take on fire magic, and you've got some people working on that, right? Easier to go through you than to do it on my own. You've already got the apprentices doing the legwork and Fyora only knows our own can barely even lace their own sandals, it seems. Especially the nobles' children, some of them. Nothing's scarier than a spoilt child with magic and no common sense that we had to take on for political reasons. Do Order mages get to tell nobles to go kiss a Meepit?"

      At that point, Rasala could only let the talk wash over her – she was too tired to do anything but step into the spell, follow someone back to her rooms, and throw herself directly onto the bed, sand and all.

***

      When Jazan woke the next morning, he still felt a little weary and incredibly sore, but he was also ravenous, and decided that filling his stomach would be worth the pain in his limbs, especially since he could smell both coffee and bacon.

      He pushed himself out of bed and dressed gingerly – each movement pained him, especially in his arms and legs. He'd need to get a potion from the healers to tend the muscles. He was still weary enough that he had to rest for a minute after he'd finished clothing himself. He'd felt worse than this before – a few fights with rogue Fire Faeries came to mind – and reminded himself sternly that the very fact that he'd wakened and was able to rise from bed was worth a small celebration.

      In his family's private dining room, an extra table had been brought in so that Rasala, Seradar, Yvenya, and Miskal could join them for the meal – they were all nursing their cups of coffee and appeared to feel about as well as Jazan did. His own mages Mirzah and Zann were there as well, looking considerably more cheerful.

      "Father!" Jessa rushed him first – Jazan picked his youngest girl up and hugged her despite his protesting limbs and back. Neera hugged him next, and Caspar and Esmeralda followed, and he carefully hid that the enthusiastic embraces hurt. Nabile knew – she merely smiled at him and took his hand for a moment as he took his place at the table. His coffee was poured and his plate was full – and the helping of bacon was generous. He smiled at her. "You are beautiful and brilliant." She smiled and laughed in return.

      Once he'd gotten a chance to drink his coffee, Rasala said, "Jazan, I've talked with Seradar, and we're going to press forward with reinstating him to the order. With Yvenya supporting me and Grimjon shutting up if he knows what's good for him, I have every expectation that it will succeed, and I am within my authority as First Mage to return to Seradar his full seniority and accolades."

      Jazan nodded. "And, Seradar, I'd like to offer you rooms in the Qasalan Mages' College if you would like to accept them. You're a teacher, and I could use more of those. Mirzah scares the apprentices."

      Mirzah scowled and Zann snickered. Seradar nodded. "I'll take you up on that, Your Majesty. If this whole venture taught me anything, it's that I'm too old to man my own tower anymore. I need some other people around to fetch my tea and slippers for me."

      Esmeralda commented, "I have a feeling this is going to be another apprentice joke."

      Seradar laughed. "The little miss is quick, it seems!"

      Nabile grinned. "You can order Caspar and Aldie around, Seradar. Most of the Qasalan mages won't do it."

      Rasala said carefully, "And this leads to my other question, Jazan. Will you join the Order of the Red Erisim?"

      Jazan replied, "No."

      Esmeralda cried, "But, Father! She needs you to join to make them change the stupid rule!"

      Caspar warned, "Aldie!"

      Jazan shook his head. "No, Esmeralda. Reinstating Seradar will be what causes the change in the bylaws. They don't need me." He looked up at Rasala and the other Order mages, who looked a little dumbfounded by his abrupt refusal. "I have my oaths to my family and my city, and those duties must come before all else. I can accept no commitment to any other body that could cause me to forswear myself.

      "But Seradar will be a member of the Qasalan Mages' College as well as the Order, now. I will not stand in the way of any of my own mages who wish to swear to you. And should they need aid, I will not stand idle." He remembered what Rasala had said to him upon their meeting two days ago and smiled slightly. "After all, what are a few fireballs among friends?"

      He still wasn't completely sure of the Order. He'd keep half an eye on them. But Rasala seemed to have her heart in the right place, and she'd keep the arrogant idiots like that Grimjon in line. And with Seradar returned to his place in the world, they wouldn't all start screaming about black magic when they saw him as they had at Seradar's tower.

      He had to admit that he was glad most people didn't think of him as an evil maniac waiting to happen anymore. He wasn't the sort of mage who needed an Order, who wanted a group at his back at all times – as prince and then king, he'd fought alone too often for that to come easily to him.

      But even a mage-king used to standing alone could appreciate the camaraderie around his breakfast table this morning. Seradar was beaming and happily answering Esmeralda's and Caspar's questions about magic. Rasala was fielding Neera's questions about the Bori charms that she was wearing – the little girl thought they were pretty jewelry, but seemed to understand that if it was magic she couldn't have one. Jessamine was humming, though she'd always had a happy nature and he hadn't been worried, and even Yvenya and Miskal looked content in their weariness.

      He'd thought that Rasala appearing in the path of Esmeralda's fireball had been a straight path to disaster – and, as far as Seradar's tower had been concerned, he hadn't been wrong. But it seemed that a few fireballs among friends had turned out for the best after all on this bright day.

The End