The Irregulars

Chapter 3

Later that night, Alec found himself tossing and turning in his bunk. At first he couldn't figure out why he was so restless, and then it dawned on him. Save for a night or two in a hostel when he could gather the funds together, this was the first time he'd slept in a real bed in six months.

Eventually, he gave up the effort, slipping out of his bunk and walking out through the hallways. He put his hand along the walls of the bunker, feeling a familiarity with the stone. He closed his eyes and listened until his ears tuned into the pound of machinery and ventilation thrumming up from deep underground. Almost immediately, he felt at ease.

Alec walked along the passageways until he came to a large chamber lit solely by candlelight. In the center of the room was a stone tablet on which was inscribed a phrase in Latin. Alec walked over to the tablet and traced his fingers over the letters.

Ne paveas carmine damno alieno trahentis.

"Let no spell be cast that draws harm to another."

Alec turned around to see Rathbone walking into the chamber.

"The motto of the Versailles Society," he said, then smiled slightly. "I thought it had a nice ring to it."

"It's nice," said Alec. "Maybe a little overly optimistic."

"Isn't that the whole point of magic?" Rathbone. "To inspire one to dream of better things?"

"I guess," said Alec. "I suppose I never really thought about the point of it all. It's always just kind of been there."

Rathbone chuckled. "You young magicians," he said. "You never change."

"You've seen a lot of young magicians in your time?"

"In my time," said Rathbone, taking on a faraway look. "I have seen quite a lot."

"So, what, you don't die?" said Alec, realizing how crass the question sounded immediately after he uttered it. But if Rathbone took any offense, he did not show it.

"Death is an illusion," said Rathbone. "There's only...transition."

Alec gave a small snort and looked back at the tablet. "Tell that to my mother."

Rathbone walked further into the chamber and took a seat nearby.

"You were close to her?"

"We both were," Alec said. "My brother and I. Our father, he was often...not around. She took care of us, raised us. Taught us how to use, how to conjure."

"Your father?" asked Rathbone. "Was he...?"

"No," Alec shook his head. "He was never really much of anything, to be honest. He was always in and out of work. Always trying to find a quick way to get rich. A few years ago, he said he had a lead on a big opportunity and that he would come back and get us all when it paid off. I'm guessing it hasn't paid off yet, because we haven't seen him since."

"And your mother?"

"She drowned," said Alec. "Last spring."

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

"She was visiting a friend," said Alec. "In Cauville-sur-Mer. She went swimming one morning...and now she's gone."

Rathbone did not say anything, but simply nodded in understanding.

"Since then, it's just been Ethan and I," said Alec. "Ethan was never the same after that. He was so angry. He felt like the world had taken something from him, and he wanted to take something back."

"And you?" asked Rathbone.

"Me?" said Alec. "I just wanted my mother back."

Rathbone stood up and placed a hand on Alec's shoulder.