Daughter of the Disgraced King (6 page)

“Child! You’re exhausted. What your mother was thinking,
sending you alone—and on the public coach! Let’s get you home and get a warm
meal into you, shall we?”

Grandmama’s house was nearby in a very quiet part of the
city in the district immediately surrounding the Institute of Magical
Arts. The house itself was small, even cozy. The garden was twice as large as
the house and very lush. Ailsa could hardly wait until morning to explore it.
Just knowing it was there lifted her spirits. Grandmama was the rarest of all
mages—a green mage—but after the way King Ewart had treated her on her last
visit, she and all the other green mages had refused to return to Far Terra.
Think
how different things could be if the king had welcomed mages instead of
treating them so badly.

Grandmama sat Ailsa down at the small dining table and put a
bowl of hot soup in front of her. “Nothing better after a long trip than a
simple meal and a warm bed.”

Having eaten little all day, Ailsa applied herself to the
soup.

“Oh, yes,” Grandmama said, pulling a paper from her pocket
and handing it to Ailsa. “This came for you earlier. Someone’s anxious to
correspond with you. I don’t recognize the writing, though. I had one from your
mother, too, about all the opportunities she wants to make sure I provide for
you while you’re here.”

Ailsa took the letter and looked at the address. The writing
was Sav’s. Ailsa drew in a sharp breath. Her letter couldn’t have reached him
already, could it? The imperial couriers were fast, but she didn’t think they
were that fast. Even if he’d gotten her letter, there was no way an answer
could have reached her so soon. No. Sav must have written this the day she
left. In spite of her weariness, Ailsa’s lips twitched up into a smile.

“Looks like you know who it’s from,” Grandmama said with a
smile.

“Yes. It’s from my best friend, Prince Savyon.” Ailsa turned
the letter over and stopped. The seal had been broken and then resealed,
slightly awry. “It’s been opened.”

“I noticed that when it arrived.”

Ailsa looked up into Grandmama’s eyes. “My mail is being
read? By whom?”

Grandmama shook her head. “It looks like it. And if it’s
from whom you say it is, then I think we can both guess who’d have access to
that
letter.”

A chill went down Ailsa’s spine. The king. King Ewart was
reading mail addressed to her—and probably any mail she sent back home. She’d
grown up knowing that the king was paranoid about her family, but reading his
own son’s letter to her seemed to be taking it pretty far, even for him. Sav’s
mail! She tried quickly to remember everything she’d written to Sav and winced.
She’d have to be a lot more careful in the future—and find a way to warn Sav to
be careful, too.

She broke the seal—re-broke it—to find out what Sav had
written to her. Nothing, really. Nothing at least that the king could object
to. Sav wished her a safe and pleasant trip—again. And said how much he already
missed her. That was all.

“All right. Finish up your soup, girl. Tomorrow’s a big day.
I’ll be taking you to the Institute to begin your testing. You’ll want to be
well rested for that.”

Ailsa blinked. She’d been expecting a day or two to rest up
after her journey. She’d had no time to prepare. “Already?”

“It’s important to start you on the right courses as soon as
possible. The testing alone has been known to take days.”

Days? It sounds exhausting.
Ailsa wasn’t ready to
think about that. What she needed was as much rest as she could get.

Before bed, Ailsa took a few minutes to finish her letter to
her parents, just to let them know she’d arrived safe. She didn’t say anything
about what had happened the night before. It would only worry them and there
was nothing they could do about it now, anyway. She took out a fresh sheet to
write a quick note to Sav, too.

I’m at my grandmother’s, safe and sound. I feel much
better now. My testing starts tomorrow.

I miss you, too. I was glad and surprised to find your
letter waiting for me here. Thinking of home, my memories turn to the most
unlikely things. For example, I was thinking earlier of that silly game we used
to play to confuse our tutors when we wanted to pass notes to each other.
Remember that?

There. Hopefully Sav would catch the reference and realize
that their mail was being read.

~

Savyon tore open the letter from Ailsa and devoured it. He
crumpled the paper in his fist after reading about the attack. If only he could
have been there to protect her. He
should
have been there for her. He smoothed
the paper out and read it over again. Don’t tell her father? Who had a better
right to know? Ailsa had always been ridiculously careful not to cause friction—all
right, additional friction—between their fathers. Well, he’d honor her wishes,
but she hadn’t said anything about telling his father. It was the king’s
responsibility to see to the safety of all his people, after all. It wasn’t
enough—not nearly enough—but it was all he could do from here.

He charged down the hall to his father’s office and barged
in without waiting to knock.

Father looked up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. He set
his pen down. “This had better be important.”

Savyon brandished Ailsa’s letter in the air. “Ailsa was
attacked at the third coach stop.”

Father waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing I can do about
that.”

Savyon’s eyes narrowed. “You knew about it? You knew and you
didn’t tell me?”

Father stood up from his desk, voice rising with anger. “What’s
the meddling girl to you, anyway, eh? And since when am I required to carry
your messages?”

Savyon stood his ground. “How did you know?”

“I’ve had a report,” Father answered steadily.

“From whom?”

Father stared back at Savyon. “Sources. I have agents along
the coach road—and elsewhere.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Savyon asked.

Father sat back down and picked up his pen. “I told you,
there’s nothing I can do. It happened across the border, out of my
jurisdiction.”

“That road exists only to link Far Terra with the rest of
the empire. You could at least complain to the emperor, insist on better
security for the coaches and their passengers after they cross the border.”

Father didn’t look up from his work. “I’m sure the emperor
has better things to do. And so do I. You’re dismissed.”

Savyon stared at the top of his father’s head for a long
moment. “All right.
I’ll
write to the emperor, then.”

Father set his pen down and looked up again. “You’ll be
wasting your time. What makes you think that a letter from you would even reach
the emperor?”

“Well, I’m going to try, anyway. It’s better than doing
nothing.” Savyon turned on his heel and stormed back to his chambers. He threw
Ailsa’s letter down on his desk and paced across the room several times, his
fists balled so tight that his nails bit into his palms. He threw himself into
his desk chair and slammed his fist on the desk before taking out a clean sheet
of paper.

The sharp nib of his pen cut right through the paper before
he even finished the address. The pen snapped in his hand. Savyon blew out a breath.
He’d better calm down a little before he attempted to write to the emperor,
anyway. He’d write to Ailsa first. That’d help. He sharpened another quill with
quick, jerky strokes.

Dearest Ailsa,

I am very distressed to hear of your trouble. In fact, I’m
so angry that I just broke the first pen I tried to write with. You should
never have been subjected to that—or forced to take the public coach just to
keep from arousing my father’s suspicions. I should have been there to protect
you and comfort you. I’m glad, at least, that you felt you could write to me
and that it helped a little.

I’m going to write to the emperor about the security of
travelers on that coach line since my father won’t do it. But I don’t want you
to worry about the return trip. When you’re ready to come home, I’ll come
myself and bring you back safely. I promise.

It can’t be soon enough for me. I miss you.

Your Sav

Savyon blew out another breath feeling his heartbeat slow to
something closer to normal. Writing to Ailsa had helped. He folded that letter
and sealed it. Then took out another fresh sheet to write to the emperor. If he
hurried, he could get them both into the courier pouch just in time.

Ailsa walked with Grandmama the short distance to the Institute of Magical Arts, trying not to be nervous. She had a strong desire to chew on the
end of her braid, but was prevented by the rapid pace Grandmama set. She smoothed
down her dress for the fifth time. She didn’t like taking any test, especially
not the most important one of her life, while she was still tired from four
days of travel. She didn’t like feeling unprepared, either. No one had told her
what she was supposed to do or how to study for this test.

Grandmama smiled. “Don’t worry. The testing doesn’t hurt. It
just takes a while sometimes.”

Ailsa cleared her throat. Her mouth was unaccountably dry. “How
. . . how exactly is the testing done?”

“That depends on what we’re testing for,” Grandmama replied
unhelpfully.

Ailsa would have asked more questions, but they’d already
arrived at the Institute. She stopped to take it in. The Institute of Magical
Arts was huge. She could see at least twelve buildings from where she stood.
Each structure exemplified a different architectural style, as if they’d been
built over hundreds of years. She smiled inwardly. They probably had been. The
Institute and its companion Academy were even older than Far Terra.

Nearly everything in Far Terra was made of stone or brick.
Some of these buildings were, too, but others were made of wood—a resource too
rare and precious to be used for construction back home. Rather than squatting
close to the ground, many of these buildings soared as if trying to touch the
sky. One even had a metal dome on its roof. The surrounding lawns, fountains,
gardens, and patios dotted with statuary that separated the buildings kept the varying
styles of the buildings from clashing as they might otherwise have done. There
seemed to be more open than enclosed space at this Institute. Just looking at
the expanses of green eased Ailsa’s nerves.

Grandmama tugged her forward. “You’ll have plenty of time to
explore later. The master is waiting for us.”

Ailsa swallowed, nervousness returning at the reminder. “Who
exactly is the master?”

“The oldest and most experienced mage at the Institute, of
course. He’s available for consultation, and he tests new students, but his
main job is coordinating the various mages who’ve graduated from the Institute
to help see that they get to where they’re most needed. Most contracts for
mages come through the Institute.”

Ailsa stopped. “
He
coordinates the contracts? The why
doesn’t he stop mages from taking contracts with the worst of the Far Terran
barons? The ones who really mistreat their mages? Couldn’t he discourage that?
Maybe even influence the way mages are treated in Far Terra by withholding
mages from the very worst barons?”

Grandmama slowed down, but she didn’t stop. “I suppose he
could, if he knew which barons to disallow.”

Ailsa hurried to catch up. “But . . . I
know
Mama
sends letters to the Institute regularly—almost every month. Surely she tells
him which barons are good to their mages and which aren’t.”

Grandmama stopped and turned to Ailsa. “Yes. That’s exactly
the sort of thing your mother
would
tell him. And no one would be in a
better position to pass that information on, either.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll
talk to the Master after your testing. But now we have to hurry.”

Ailsa paused while another thought slotted into place in her
brain. “If my mail is being read . . .”

Grandmama nodded. “Yes. As I said, I’ll talk to the Master
about it later. After your testing.”

Grandmama made for the first building on the right. It was
one of the smallest, measured by length and width, but also the tallest, going
up and up until it ended in a thin spire. An odd mixture of building materials—stone
at the bottom, then brick, timber, and the spire was either metal or
metal-sheathed. Each level ornamented in a different style, as if the structure
itself had grown along with the Institute. Ailsa squared her shoulders and
followed Grandmama up the broad marble steps and through the huge, brass double
doors.

She blinked as the doors clanged shut behind her. The only
windows were high up, so the interior was dimly lit, all but a square in the
exact center where the light of all the windows combined. Ailsa blinked again
as she realized that the interior was one big room. There was space outside of
that square of light for dozens of people on each side. A slight rustling in
the dimness made Ailsa think that there might be some people already there,
invisible in the shadows.

The square of light revealed a colorful tile floor and five
ornate cast-iron benches, one on each side of the sunlit area and one in the
exact center. Ailsa had a sinking feeling about where her place was going to be
in all of this. Sure enough, Grandmama led her forward into the sunlit square.
She stopped at the edge and gave a small bow, nothing so distinct as a curtsy,
to the elderly man sitting alone on the bench at the far side. Ailsa made the
same curtsy she was used to making to King Ewart. The old man remained seated,
but he nodded to Grandmama before indicating the center bench to Ailsa. Just as
she’d feared.

Ailsa closed her eyes briefly, then strode forward with as
much confidence as she could muster. She stood in front of the bench, unwilling
to sit until she was invited.

The old man across from her—and he was without doubt the
oldest person she’d ever seen—smiled and gestured for her to sit. “I am the
master of the Institute of Magical Arts. It will be my task and my pleasure to
test you for magical talent and determine your special gift. As Malina might
have told you,” he nodded toward Grandmama, “the testing mainly consists of
seeking resonance with the various fields of magic. Since there are literally
hundreds of types of magic, the testing can sometimes take a long time. We will
try to minimize that time by testing for the most likely first. As your mother
is a heat mage, we will begin there.” He waved his arms to the sides and a pair
of mages wearing orange-red robes stepped forward to the benches on either
side.

Ailsa resisted the urge to look behind her, sure that there
was now a red-robed mage on that bench as well. She licked her lips and closed
her eyes. She didn’t even know what it was she was supposed to do. No one had
explained anything. She tried to focus on something, anything. A single thought
drifted through her mind.
At least, if I’m a heat mage, it will make the
decision about Sav easy. Far Terra has no need for heat mages.

 Her skin prickled at the sense of magic swelling around
her. Was it nerves that made sweat pop out on her forehead? Or was the room
getting warmer? The temperature in the room dropped again and Ailsa released
the breath she hadn’t been aware that she was holding. She opened her eyes so
she could see the master’s response.

The old man shook his head. “No resonance was detected. You
are not a heat mage.” He waved his hands again and the red-robed mages rose and
faded back into the shadows. “Very well. Your aunt is a water mage. We’ll test
for that next.” He raised his arms and two more mages, women this time and clad
in dark blue robes, appeared from out of the shadows.

Ailsa swallowed hard. Her hope that she might be a water
mage was about to be tested and might easily be dashed as quickly as her
potential as a heat mage had been. She’d always had the knack of sinking into a
calm, quiet place when her tutors tested her knowledge. She sought that mental
space now, but it eluded her.
Maybe that’s the difference between knowing
the answers and having no clue at all what I’m supposed to be doing.
She
wished someone would give her a hint.
Or maybe I’m just tired.

The tingling sense of building magic tickled her skin again.
As she watched, a tile in the mosaic floor in front of her slid aside and a jet
of water rose from the depths. Ailsa emitted a small squeak and scooted back on
her bench. The fountain disappeared. She looked up at the master. She was
pretty sure that wasn’t the reaction they’d expected, but she’d really thought
that her reactions during the journey here would mean she was a water mage.

He shook his head. “No resonance.”  The master studied Ailsa
for a long moment. “Yet you are surprised by this result. Suppose you tell me
why you thought you might be a water mage. Aside from wishful thinking.”

Ailsa clasped her hands in her lap to keep from wringing
them.
Not a water mage, after all.
“Coming here, I noticed that I always
felt lethargic while we were crossing the desert, in spite of the green
corridor. But I always felt better when we reached an oasis. And when we came
over the Ring Mountains and reached that lake, I felt like I could have danced
into the inn.” Ailsa’s shoulders sagged. “I suppose that was just the reaction
of a desert girl seeing that much water for the first time.” She frowned as she
thought about what had happened later and bit her lower lip.

“What else?” the master asked. “I can tell that’s not all of
the story.”

Ailsa’s eyes darted from side to side. Sitting in this
square of light, she could see nothing in the darker areas surrounding her. No
telling how many people were there, listening to all of this. She really didn’t
want to tell this story to a hall full of strangers. She looked up at the old
man, but there was no reprieve there. His eyes compelled her.

Ailsa drew a deep, steadying breath and focused on the
mosaic pattern of the floor in front of her. “It happened later that evening,
at the inn.” Once she started, she rushed forward, trying to get through the
story as quickly as possible. She heard gasps and exclamations from the shadows
around her. She didn’t look up until she’d finished.

The master looked grim. “I will certainly bring this to the
attention of the emperor.”

Ailsa gasped. “Oh! Please don’t. It will only cause more
trouble.”

The old man looked at her and his eyes softened. “I have no
interest in the internal politics of Far Terra, except as they impact the mages
under my care. An attack on a student coming to this Institute is certainly
within
my
sphere
and
the emperor’s. Anyone, king or commoner, who
questions that is playing a fool’s game.”

He sat back and studied Ailsa for a long moment. “Hmm.
Perhaps.” He looked into the shadows behind her. “Hmm. It’s a rare gift. So
rare it’s usually among the last things we test for. Still . . . Skipped a
generation, eh? Well, stranger things have happened.” He looked back at Ailsa “It
occurs to me that there is more than water at an oasis or lake. More than one
kind of mage might have had the reaction you describe. A green mage, for
example, would react to the increase and decrease in live, growing things.”

A
green
mage?
It was not something Ailsa had
ever dared dream of. A grin spread across her face and her heartbeat seemed to
thunder in her chest, but her hands curled into fists and she hid them in the
folds of her skirt.
Sav.
If she was a green mage, how could she give that
up for Sav? Her throat ached at the thought.

This time when the master raised his hands, Grandmama
stepped up to the bench on Ailsa’s left, but the right-hand bench remained
empty. Was this gift so rare that even the Institute of Magical Arts didn’t
have three of them? The master looked around, clearly better able to see the
people in the shadows than Ailsa was. “Someone send for Jathan, please.”

“I’m here, master,” a voice called from above. “Father asked
me to observe.”

Ailsa looked up for the first time to see a balcony ringing
the room. Even more people must be watching her from up there. She swallowed
hard.

“Of course he did,” the master said. “Very fortunate, too.
Come down and take your place, there.” He pointed to the right-hand bench.

Two servants carried in a large planter filled with soil.
One dropped a single seed onto the dirt before scurrying back into the shadows.
After a few moments, a young man, not much older than Ailsa, stepped out into
the light and sat on the right-hand bench. An unruly thatch of red-blond hair
was his main distinguishing characteristic. Apart from that, and a cheerful
expression, he was quite ordinary in appearance—neither tall nor short, heavy
or slim. He grinned and winked at her.

Ailsa held her breath as the magic began to build around
her. She closed her eyes and tried again to find that calm place. She had to
stifle a gasp as the serenity of it engulfed her, feeling like the most natural
thing in the world. She opened her eyes to find that a vine was already growing
from the planter, coiling as it climbed upward. At every turn, it leaned a
little farther toward Ailsa. A slow smile spread across her face. Surrounded by
the surging green magic, she stood and reached out to the seedling. She touched
the vine as it swung toward her. It coiled loosely around her wrist and burst
into bloom. The large pink flowers suffused the air with perfume.