*

-5 years prior-

The dark veil obstructed Lady Iris’s vision as she was handed down from her carriage by her bodyguard. The winter day was clear and frigid. A thin crust of snow from the night before dusted the road and the yak pastures to either side. Afternoon sunlight reflected off the white expanse and pierced the delicate black lace of her veil, forcing Iris to squint to see through it as she took the arm of her bodyguard and, together with him, started trudging up the road. Their bootsteps crunched in the snow, leaving a fresh trail of prints.

There was nothing particularly noteworthy or impressive about the Southern Gate of Moonfane Forge. It looked like any town’s gate, little more than a wider gap between two buildings that had been fashioned into something of an arch above the main road. The town itself, however, did have a certain majesty to it, she had to admit. It rose behind its gate in twisting roads and close-set buildings that wound up and up through the foothills of jagged Mt. Moonfane. Iris had studied up on the place before making the trip. The merchants and artisans who dwelled in the buildings highest up in the hills, nearest to the mountain, controlled great quantities of silver that had been mined here for generations.

The silver made them rich, but, surprisingly, not as rich as did the malodorous animals lowing in the surrounding pastures. That a town’s fortunes could rest so heavily on the shoulders of shaggy, wild beasts that were notoriously difficult to keep was laughable. The textiles made from their dirty hair was prized all over the kingdom. But what would happen if disease ran through the herds? Or the nobles in the capital suddenly decided that yak hair was no longer in fashion?

Iris sniffed. Much as she wanted to dismiss this town as inferior to her precious Black Crux, she could not deny its influence over the crown. King Caiside V had loved his silver and yak hair-producing jewel of the north. Now that he was dead, would his son continue to shower the same favor upon it? Iris’s mind wandered to how she might entice the newly coronated king to visit her seat of power and favor it instead. The last time she had courted Caiside VI’s favor, he had been but a bashful little princeling shadowed by a fussing tutor.

It was Marigold who had ruined that moment for her. Iris had only been demonstrating magic for the boy, showing him something he might remember when he ascended to the throne one day. But staunch, principled Marigold had to arrive and launch into one of her diatribes about how magic should or should not be used, as if it did not belong to each practitioner who could wield it, theirs to decide what to do with.

Memories of her teacher drew Iris back to her present mission. Over the course of the previous two years, she had written personal letters to Marigold, then sent official missives from her court, and finally even dispatched messengers to the heads of Moonfane Forge, first requesting, then demanding, that Mage Marigold return to Black Crux and resume her old duties as Lady Iris’s instructor in magic. Not a single reply had come back from Marigold. Only once did Iris get a response from the town’s head silversmith—as if that were some station of significance—stating shortly that, apologies, but Mage Marigold refused to treat with her. That had been all.

For years, Iris had spared no expense quietly searching for Marigold’s whereabouts without success. Yet, now that her old master had finally seen fit to come out of hiding, she refused to even acknowledge Iris’s summons. It was unconscionable. How dare she force Iris to make this trip. It was hardly appropriate for the ruler of an entire hold to have to call upon a commoner like this in person. But it seemed the only way, necessitating this bit of subterfuge with a rented carriage and face-concealing veil, so tongues would not wag. She also had to maintain the appearance that she had given up practicing magic since her husband’s death. That’s what she had told her subjects at the time. It was a more comfortable explanation for why her teacher had left than the humiliating truth of it—that Marigold had refused her commands and abandoned her.

It would all be righted today. Iris would find the old woman and bring her to heel. Then she would have all the Barrier-Casting techniques bestowed upon her, as was her right. She would become the master mage she was always meant to be, then reemerge as a powerful practitioner of Barrier-Casting. Not even the new king could ignore her then.

From outside the town’s gate, Iris could sense the powerful old mage’s presence within. That, however, was an afterthought compared to the sensation of the impossibly large Barrier that surrounded all of Moonfane Forge. Even in its presence, Iris found it difficult to accept that such a spell was feasible. It was not simply a Barrier of enormous size, but one that supposedly would last for months, imbued with a Condition allowing only residents of Moonfane Forge to pass through it both day and night. All other people could only pass in and out of town during the day. This was the kind of power Iris desired to possess. No more would her old teacher be allowed to selfishly withhold it from her.

At Iris’s approach, from underneath the gate arch, a woman stepped into the light. She was dressed in soldierly livery of silver and black, and wore a proper sword on her belt. So, they placed soldiers at their gate, rather than common town guards. Iris stored that bit of information away.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Afternoon,” said the soldier, and stood with her gloved hand resting on her sword’s hilt. “What’s your business in Moonfane Forge?”

“Visiting an old friend.”

The soldier yawned. “Fine then. But we’ll be having your bodyguard’s sword and dagger while you’re in town. And mind you that you’re arrivin’ kind of late in the afternoon. This town’s got a magical Barrier that visitors cannot pass through at night. The inns are—”

“So, I’ve heard,” Iris said tersely. She nodded to her bodyguard. He unbuckled his scabbard and dagger and handed them over to the soldier.

As she took possession of the weapons, she rolled her eyes in plain view of Iris. “Well, then, I’m certain you know more about it than me,” she muttered, and took her time in stepping aside.

If only she knew who she was speaking to, she would be rushing to apologize. Iris took note of the woman’s face, then commanded her bodyguard, “Come.”

Iris brushed past the gate guard, with her man-at-arms following behind her. She did not relish having to walk up the steep, snow-crusted streets, but her carriage horse would not be able to follow. Animals could not pass through a Barrier, only humans granted a Permission by the casting mage. In fact ...

Abruptly, Iris halted. She stood stock-still just short of the gate’s yawning arch and tentatively lifted her hand to where she sensed the Barrier. She touched it ... and met resistance. There was still daylight in the sky, though. That meant ...

“You said visitors could pass through the Barrier during the day.” She spoke over her shoulder to the gate guard.

“They can.” The woman didn’t even look up, too busy picking at her thumbnail.

“Then why cannot I?” Iris demanded. She pressed harder against the transparent Barrier to demonstrate. The only reply the gate guard offered was an indifferent shrug. Iris turned to her bodyguard. “Have you ever lived in this town?” When he shook his head, she commanded, “Walk through it.”

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Just walk through the gate.” He obeyed, walking directly through the gate and partly up the street before Iris called for him to stop and come back. Iris knit her brow and touched the Barrier again, pressing harder and harder. It was more than a physical denial; the Barrier seemed to resist her very self specifically. “Intent ...” she whispered.

“Guess you’re not seeing your old friend today,” snickered the gate guard.

Iris clenched her teeth behind tight lips and took in a series of slow, deep breaths. She turned on the spot. “Move,” she said, shoving her bodyguard out of her way. Positioning herself a few steps away from the gate, she rounded to face it again. Taking more slow breaths, she calmed herself. With purpose, she raised her arm and swept her hand across the gate. She felt magic surge and course through her, an ocean wave to pound a wall into sand.

The strength of the magic she worked made her stagger back and she was only prevented from falling by inadvertently stumbling into her bodyguard. Had it worked? Had she dispelled it? Shrugging her bodyguard off, she stomped to the gate and reached out again. Again, her hand met a solid, invisible wall.

“The hells are you doing?” the gate guard asked. She appeared as if she were debating whether she should step in and intervene.

Iris ignored her. She had to concentrate. Marigold’s Castings had always been strong ones, but Iris could dispel this one if she concentrated hard enough. Once more, she composed herself, focused the magic within her, and swept her arm across the gate. She put everything into it, all the power and precision she could muster.

Nothing happened.

Again, and then again, she waved her arm at the town gate, and each time that she sensed no change in the masterful Barrier before her, her frustrations grew, until she could do nothing but stand and utter an inarticulate shriek. She marched forward and shoved against the Barrier with her hands. The empty space resisted her.

Suddenly, from above her came the sound of laughter, followed by someone asking, “What on earth is she doing down there?”

Iris stepped back and looked up. In her fury, she had failed to notice the elevated guard post above the gate. Peering down at her from it were additional soldiers, all of them guffawing. Behind her veil, her cheeks burned hot. They could not even fathom the skill and concentration they witnessed. They thought she was making a fool of herself. They were the fools!

At the same time, she could not deny she had been bested by her erstwhile teacher, and the worst part of it was that she didn’t even know how. How had Marigold done this? Iris had never conceived that a Barrier could defy her like this, that one could resist her every attempt at a Dispelling, yet still permit other people through, with Conditions of daylight and time and location. How? How did Marigold do it? These were the techniques Marigold denied her, denied the student she was supposed to share all with! Instead, she hid away and hoarded the magic that was Iris’s by right!

The laughter up on the high gate post continued, until one man broke into a coughing fit so that his fellow had to clap him on the back. The woman before her only made it worse by declaring, “If you’re not going into town, then take a hike, lady.”

Years it had been since Iris had turned her Barrier-Casting upon another human being. The temptation was so strong. She practically gagged at not giving in to it. But she couldn’t. The other soldiers would see. Then it would not be long before someone deduced who she was. She would never again have her chance at putting Marigold back in her place. On top of that, Slumber was creeping in. She already felt her legs becoming wobbly, and feared to slip and fall in the snow. At a complete loss, Iris turned and trudged unsteadily back to her waiting carriage, the sounds of mockery blurring into the buoyant and ethereal sensation stealing over her.

She had come all this way for nothing.

No. Not nothing. In this humiliating incident, she had gained some valuable insight. This was a Barrier Imbued with Intent. There was no other explanation. Marigold must have anticipated that Iris would one day find her. But as livid as Iris was at this continued defiance, it only confirmed that Marigold possessed skills and techniques that Iris would do anything to attain. What she sought was here. One way or another, she would solve this lock that was Moonfane Forge, reclaim her teacher, and take back her rightful magical inheritance.