Free My Path to Magic by Irina Syromyatnikova Page A

Talk started that there were no sand gnats on the island or they were apparently not associated with Capetower.  Mrs. Clements categorically disagreed with that view.
    "We need to expand the boundaries of the excavation," her eyes burned with fanaticism.  "The commission's report talks about ruins five kilometers to the south.  There we will surely find something!"
    More ruins and uninhabited at that.  Magnificent!  Intuition told me that we might find something there that we did not expect.
    Mr. Smith took Pierre as an assistant for the initial examination of the new place, and the fool was terribly proud of it.  Strangely enough, they both returned safe and sound.  Mr. Smith was carrying a chest, the contents of which he did not show to anyone but Mrs. Clements.  There was something important in it, no doubt, because all discussions had come to an end, and our redeployment was scheduled for the next day.
    Uncle Gordon and I, and Pierre and one of the guards, Gerick, volunteered.  I noticed that the base camp remained without any dark mages, but I thought that Mr. Smith knew better where we were needed most.
    "What, they didn't take your bootlicker?" Uncle remarked venomously.
    It took me some time to realize who he had in mind.
    "I never thought that you would have such a thirst for power, nephew!  I would never be tempted to lord over that pale worm."
    Was he talking about Alex?  I hadn't noticed any ass-kissing in the white—it was just his admiring nature.  Of course, I was flattered that the guy only a year older than me recognized my authority.  The point was not in lording over him, but rather in my Big Brother complex, an attitude that awoke in me after visiting home.  I hadn't previously known how much I would like the feeling of being in charge of the family.  But why was Uncle sticking his nose into my business?
    "Jealous?" I asked innocently.
    Ha!  He was jealous and even blushed!  Yes, Uncle, you used to be the first guy in the village, but it won’t stay that way forever: young people are nipping at your heels.  Call me wicked, but to be an object of envy is an awesome feeling!  Uncle, realizing his mistake, did not touch this subject any longer, but harm had been done already: for the first time I clearly realized that we were the dark too, which meant that a time would come to sort things out between us.  Not yet; right now my Source of Power, threats of the King's Island, and the ever-present money shortage problem were on the agenda.  No time for rearranging our hierarchy!  I needed to figure out how to divert Uncle from thinking about it.  Maybe I should confront him with Mr. Smith again?
    As it turned out, I worried for nothing—the King's Island found a way to distract us.
    The new excavation site was located in the most inaccessible part of the shore.  How the notorious commission had managed to discover it remained a mystery.  Nevertheless, it had been found, identified on maps, and even given a name: Cape Solitude.  We landed there almost as a real military unit, on a dinghy from the main ship, literally squeezing through the coastal cliffs.  I was a little worried that we would have to commit such a feat every day.  Behind the rocks there wasn't even a bay, but just a shallow lagoon, where remnants of an ancient road began.  Nobody could guess when, why, and by whom it was built; it would have been impossible for a cargo ship to access that place.  Our goal was located well above sea level, on top of a mountain with a cut-off summit where geometrically proportional heaps of sand and gravel signified the remains of three or four large buildings.  By size they resembled Capetower, the steel fortress; apparently, that was the reason why Mrs. Clements liked them.  For about twenty minutes we clambered up to the top like beasts of burden and quietly swore.  After I dumped my first cargo load on the ground, I allowed myself to breathe and wander through the ruins.
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