Obel met his stare. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
A wave of emotion hit Deckard, driving him to lean back in his seat. Amid confusion, elation, disbelief, wariness, and awe, one feeling rose to the surface: relief. After a month of worrying that he would be plunged into the Deep, his fears turned out to be unfounded.
Deckard let out a grateful laugh. “I’m not a Night Mage?” he asked again, desperate for confirmation.
“No,” Obel said.
“You’re sure?”
“You’re not a Night Mage, Jonn,” Auden said apologetically. “I misread your magic because—I saw what I expected to see. You were using Night Magic in Dunneshead, but...rarely again. It isn’t your primary.”
Deckard sat up, intrigued. “What kind of Mage am I, then?” he asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Obel said, gesturing to the mural above them and the woman surrounded by the void of black.
Deckard gaped at her, the sight of the glittering oblivion hitting him with its resemblance to the shard of magic he’d summoned a moment before.Space.He was a Space Mage.
He was a Space Mage?
He knew so little about the resource that he hardly knew how to feel about the revelation.
“I will grant Highlord Calder the allowance that Night and Space are strikingly similar at times,” Obel said, drawing Deckard’s eyes back to him. “Dark, cold, and mysterious. It’s easy to connect with Night when you meant to find Space. But you’re no Night Mage, Colonel. Trust me, I’ve been one for nearly two centuries.”
Deckard brushed a hand over his jaw, attempting to understand. “How is it I summoned Hewitt before I knew I was a Mage, then?” he asked.
“I take it Hewitt’s your ghost?” Obel asked but didn’t wait for confirmation. “There are a couple of possibilities, and being a Space Mage grants you some assistance in that matter. They are a rare breed for a reason.”
“They’re dangerous,” Auden said.
Deckard frowned. “You said that about Night Mages.”
Surprisingly, Auden smiled. “It’s a different kind of danger. Night is dangerous because it’s dark and can bring the Deep upon its wielder. Space is dangerous because it’s...vast.”
“By vast,” Obel said, “he means it’s limitless.”
The concept was impossible to fathom. “Meaning what?” Deckard asked. “That I have unlimited power and can’t deplete my energy?”
“Galatae’s Heavens, no,” Obel said with a chuckle. “Theresourceis limitless.Youare not. You very much have limits, as every Mage does, and I’d be careful about pushing them. But,” he angled toward Deckard, “it does translate to the way you use your magic. You see, all Space Mages are predisposed to focus. How are your abilities to draw on your concentration, Colonel?”
“Excellent,” Deckard admitted. “I thought that was why my abilities with Night manifested so easily. I’ve always been able to focus intently on whatever I turn my thoughts to.”
“Ah, so exactly as I said, then. It’s a quality all Space Mages share.” Obel nodded. “It has to do with the ability to open their minds to the boundless nature of the resource. Because of this, they are generally more apt to connect with all the resources, not just their primary.”
“Which explains why you were so quick to pick up your magic,” Auden added.
“And why you were able to summon a ghost without intending to,” Obel concluded.
Vayden, lounging on the far side of the couch, began to laugh. “Oh, Fishere is going to lose his bloody mind,” he said.
“Why?” Deckard asked, growing uneasy with the news.
The question seemed to catch Vayden off guard. He stared back blankly before finding his voice. “Well,” he glanced at Auden, “like Sirraus said, your kind are quite rare. There are only two known Space Mages in the world—now three with you—and while the Alliance managed to pull Lord Grenwoode from retirement, he’s over two centuries old. They don’t expect him to live more than a few more decades at the most.”
Deckard raised his chin in understanding. “And they need someone to carry the Relic,” he surmised.
Vayden shrugged as Auden watched Deckard carefully.
Deciding this was a fight for another time, Deckard turned back to Obel. “How do I release Hewitt?” he asked.
