Shadow Magic (18 page)

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Authors: Patricia C. Wrede

BOOK: Shadow Magic
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“Then you think that the Lithmern did
not
mistake Alethia for Isme when they kidnapped her from Styr Tel?” Worrel asked.

“What else explains their actions?” Maurin retorted.

“But why would Alethia be so valuable to them?”

“I cannot guess,” Maurin replied. “But I can think of no other explanation that fits.”

“Explanation?” Illeana said. “More like a fabrication! I do not find it convincing.”

“Nonetheless, this is the third time the Lithmern and their creatures have tried to capture Alethia,” Maurin pointed out. “That thing went straight for her as soon as it broke free of your circle. If the Shadow-born wanted Isme, why do they keep trying to recover her daughter?”

“And I still do not believe that it was entirely a coincidence that the janaver struck at Alethia,” said Worrel. “If it was not, that would make four times. I am much inclined to accept your theory.”

“In any case, I do not think we can remain long in the mountains,” Jordet said. Illeana frowned, and he went on, “I know that you were told to keep us from Eveleth, but the situation has now changed. None of us can heal him,” he nodded at the gloomy figure of Corrim, “nor adequately protect him for more than a brief time. Though the mountains may shield him somewhat from the Shadow-born, I do not think that the safeguard will last once the Shadow-born reach their full strength.”

Illeana still looked doubtful, but she nodded. “We must take Eveleth the news that the Shadow-born walk free once more, and that without delay. Very well, we shall all go. These winds blow too high for me.”

Chapter 12

F
OR THE REST OF
the day, the little group wound among the mountains. At twilight they had not yet reached Eveleth, but Jordet and Illeana assured them it was no more than two hours ride. No one wanted to spend another night in the open, especially with their destination so close, and they kept on. The path gradually widened into a well-trodden road that sloped gently upward past the shadowed cliffs on either side. The two moons rose almost together, giving the white hair of the Shee a silvery sheen and lighting the road before them with a clear, cold light.

A gentle breeze, barely a stirring of the night air, came blowing down the last rise to meet them. Below her, Alethia could dimly see the rolling woods, veiled in silver light like a woman of Rathane. Above towered the immovable mountains, dark and silent, up which the small black dots of the horses and ponies crept like ants. She felt strangely peaceful for the first time since leaving Brenn.

Jordet stopped at the top of the slope and the others rode up beside him. “There,” he said softly, pointing. “There is Eveleth.”

They were looking out over a plateau that seemed immense. Directly before and below them rose the white spires of a city, gleaming in full moonlight. From the windows, light shone in brilliant pinpoints; not the warm yellow light of candles or lamps, but a pure white light like that of the stars. The city lay within a circle of smaller lights, evenly spaced on the wall around it like beads on a necklace chain.

They looked in silence. Then, wordlessly, they applied themselves to the descent. When they stood before the gates of the city at last, Alethia was awed. Five times as high as her head they stood, yet still they seemed curiously fragile. The metal gleamed in the light of two lamps hanging from the wall on either side, and she could see carvings on the door posts that even in the uncertain light were obviously the work of master craftsmen.

Jordet rode directly into the pool of light before the gates. “Open!
Ri peri sikat
!”

“Who demands entrance to the City of Lights?” said a cool voice from the top of the wall above them.

“The Keeper of the South Ward demands entrance,” Jordet shouted back, with a smile.

Silent and slow as in a dream, the gates swung inward. Inside stood a Shee dressed in uniform, silver and black in the moonlight. The haughty expression on his face was belied by the warmth in his voice. “Jordet!” The warmth quickly vanished as he saw the Ward-Keeper’s companions just outside the gate.

“Prestemon, there is an explanation for this,” Jordet said quickly.

“Explanations must wait; we must go to the palace at once!” Illeana said behind him. She rode forward until she could be plainly seen by the guard.

“Have you run mad?” the Shee captain demanded, looking at Jordet. “Bringing humans to our city!”

“This is the Queen’s business,” Illeana snapped.

Jordet nodded. “These are my
cousins,
Prestemon. This is Alethia of Brenn and her brother Har—the children of Isme. The ban against humankind need not apply to them.”

“And the others? Can you claim Shee heritage for them as well, Jordet?” Prestemon spoke gently, but remained firm.

Illeana frowned. “This is the
Queen’s
business, captain,” she repeated. “It is not for you to judge. Do you question the Veldatha?”

“Prestemon,” Jordet said, “you must trust me.”

Prestemon turned his gaze slowly from Jordet to Illeana, and back again. “All right. I will escort you personally. But on your
life,
my friend, this had better have a good explanation.”

Jordet grinned as he swung back into the saddle. “That’s fair enough.”

Prestemon shook his head and turned back to the gates. “Taterek! Close the gates and mind them well!”

The Shee in the gate house nodded his acknowledgment. The captain seized one of the horses tethered just inside the gate, and indicated for the party to follow. “Pull your hoods up at least,” he said, without turning back to them. “The less attention we attract, the better.”

The buildings were clearly visible in the white light of the lanterns that hung at intervals along the streets, but none bore any resemblance to the solid stone houses of Brenn or to the wooden ones of other Alkyran towns. These were made of the same smooth white stone blocks that paved the street, and they shone ghostly amid gardens and groves of trees. From time to time, the riders heard the music of fountains.

The party turned a corner and moved slowly down a wide avenue that led directly to the palace. Ahead of them rose the silver spires of the castle, gleaming in the moonlight. The towers were visible from every part of the city, even over the tops of the tallest trees, reaching for the sky like tall, white fingers.

As they drew nearer, the rolling grounds and trees around the palace became more clearly visible, and soon they reached the foot of the long sweep of stairs leading up to the main door. On either side of the carved door-panels stood a Shee uniformed in black and silver, and as Prestemon rode up they snapped to attention.

The captain mounted the stairs two at a time, giving orders to the guards almost as soon as he had dismounted, and disappeared through the carved doors.

One of the guards whistled as Alethia dismounted; two youths appeared in answer to the summons, and they took the reins of the horses and ponies and led them out into the shadows.

“If you will, please follow me,” the second guard said politely as he swung the doors open. Illeana stepped forward at once, and the rest of the travelers followed.

Inside they were hurried down a long marble hall lined with pillars to a small chamber hung with silks and tapestries. Here the guard left them, but they did not have to wait long. Barely had they entered when they heard the sound of rapid footsteps approaching. The door opposite was thrown open, revealing Prestemon and another Shee wearing a black cloak lined in dark purple silk and carrying a silver staff. Jordet and Worrel immediately bowed; Rarn and Illeana curtsied. After a moment’s hesitation, Alethia and the men copied the others.

“Lord Medilaw Robal, High Minister to Her Majesty Queen Iniscara,” announced Prestemon as the second man entered the room.

“You may go, but stay outside in case you are needed,” the High Minister said as he passed the guard captain. His voice was deep, clear, and cold. Prestemon bowed and went out, closing the door behind him. “Now,” Medilaw continued, “you will explain this to me, Jordet.”

“My Lord,” Jordet said formally, “I would first present Alethia and Har Tel’anh, Worrel n’Grath and Rarn s’Mural, Journeyman Maurin Atuval and Minstrel Tamsin Lerrol, and Corrim vin Halla.”

The High Minister acknowledged the introductions with narrowed eyes and looked expectantly at Jordet.

“We traveled together from the South Ward in answer to the summons of the Queen,” Jordet said.

“Yes, but why did you come all the way here?” asked Medilaw with a frown. “I thought your instructions clear enough.” He looked pointedly at Illeana.

“The Wearers of the Crown are not slaves, to complete a task without questioning,” Illeana replied coolly. “It seemed best to me that they should come to Eveleth, and I have brought them. Will you question my judgment?”

“I must,” Medilaw replied angrily. “Things have not changed since this morning, that you must amend my orders. There is no reason to trouble our people with humans and half-breeds.”

Har’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Is it your people that will be troubled, or yourself, my Lord?” he spat. “In Alkyra at least we have the manners to give strangers a hearing before we dismiss them.”

“Among yourselves you may do as you like; it is no concern of mine,” Medilaw answered. “I do not see—”

Illeana interrupted him before he could finish the sentence. “It is plain indeed that you do not see,” she said. “I am Veldatha; I am no tool for your use, my lord. Next time perhaps you will think better of it before you seek to use me as such.”

“Even the Veldatha wizards must bow to the Queen’s orders,” Medilaw said.

“How could the Queen have known that you sent me to keep these folk from Eveleth, when she was studying Firivar’s prophecy undisturbed from midnight on?” Illeana demanded.

Medilaw’s lips tightened. “The High Minister speaks for the Queen,” he said. “I am still waiting for an explanation of your actions.”

“My actions were in the interests of the Queen and of Eveleth,” Illeana said. “I think it would be as well if the Queen and the Council knew that the Lithmern sorcerers have loosed the Shadow-born once more. Do you not?”

The High Minister paled. “The Shadow-born?”

Jordet and Illeana nodded.

“I… You could have sent one of your number with proof, rather than bring all,” he said uncertainly. Then he looked up. “That is, if you have proof of this improbable assertion.”

“Medilaw, for once you act the fool,” said a calm voice from the doorway. Turning, they saw a Shee woman apparently of middle age, her pale hair bound back from her face by a silver circlet. Unlike all the other Shee the humans had yet seen, her eyes were a hazel brown flecked with green.

“Your Majesty!” Medilaw bowed deeply. The others followed suit. As his head rose, Medilaw began to speak, but the Queen cut him short.

“Have a care; do not compound your error, Medilaw,” she said. “Why were these humans not brought to me at once? Why was I not even notified of their arrival? Have I not told you that the matter of Brenn is of gravest importance?”

“Your Majesty has been much occupied with preparations for the Council tomorrow,” Medilaw replied austerely. “I did not wish to disturb you without cause, and so I chose to see first whether there were any need for you to be concerned.”

“And was it that same concern that prompted you to send Illeana to persuade them to go elsewhere without consulting me?” the Queen asked gently.

“I wished only to relieve you of the burden of dealing with them,” Medilaw replied.

“This is not the first time you have chosen to… relieve me of the burden of sovereignty,” the Queen replied softly. “This time, however, you might have done more damage than you realize. Still, there must be somewhere such devotion may be put to proper use. Somewhere, I think, besides the position of Minister to the Queen. Have you any suggestions? No? Think on it, then, but leave your staff with Nember. He will direct the Council tomorrow.”

Medilaw turned white, but bowed and left without attempting to say more. Having summarily dismissed her over-ambitious minister, the Queen turned to the ring of people who had been watching this interaction with interest, and smiled graciously—though the smile did not reach her eyes. “Tell me what brings you here.”

The Queen listened closely without interrupting while Jordet told the tale. She did not question him at first, but turned to Illeana. “You are sure that Corrim was controlled by the Shadow-born?” she asked.

“Madam, he was briefly possessed. I could not be mistaken; we were fortunate that the distance was too great for the Shadow-born to exert his full power through this one,” Illeana replied. “In addition, the creature was overconfident; it was still too soon after his waking, and he was weaker than he thought. Even so, he nearly defeated us. Had we not been in the Kathkari where his power is weaker, I think he would have won.”

Iniscara’s eyes narrowed, but she only nodded briefly before turning back to Jordet. “Do you concur?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” said Jordet.

Iniscara nodded again and turned to Alethia. “The Shadow-born seem to be exceptionally interested in you, daughter of Isme,” she said. “I am surprised you have managed to arrive here in safety.”

“I think I have been very lucky, your Majesty,” Alethia replied.

“That, certainly,” the Queen said thoughtfully. She looked sharply at the girl for a moment. “Were you holding any object of magic when the Shadow-born attacked?”

Alethia frowned in concentration. “No, I was just tossing pebbles.”

The Queen turned abruptly to Jordet and Illeana. “Why did you not inform me?”

Illeana looked startled. “What possible importance could it be?”

“Have you forgotten all the magic you know?” the Queen asked sharply. Turning back to Alethia she asked, “Do you still have the stones?”

“I don’t… no, I do still have one,” Alethia said. “I put it in my cloak pocket; I’d forgotten about it until now.” She reached into the pocket as she spoke and dug for a moment, and brought out a small stone, about the size of a cloak button.

Her companions stared at it for a moment. It was a very ordinary looking rock. The Queen, however, did not seem disturbed by its unexciting appearance. “Do not lose it, child; you may find it useful some time,” was all she said.

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