The Amber Legacy (34 page)

‘I’ll fetch one,’ Vale volunteered, and he headed for the library exit.

Meg sighed when he shut the door.
This is madness
, she thought.
How have I ended up in a room full of books with an old man who thinks that magic is real? Magic
is
real
, she told herself.
You’re the one who can heal with a touch.
She shook her head.
I’m turning into Vale
, she silently scolded herself.
What if I really can do magic? Then what? You already can
, she answered.
You chose a mending spell because Emma’s already taught
you the basics.
And it was true. She had chosen a spell that she already had mastered before coming to Port of Joy. So she wanted to prove to Vale that magic was real. She just didn’t understand herself. What was so confusing about accepting reality?
But magic isn’t real
, a voice inside her argued again.
Oh yes it is
, she thought.

Vale re-entered with a crystal glass. ‘I borrowed it from the Queen’s kitchen,’ he said, as he put it on the table.

‘It needs to be broken,’ she told him, ‘but all the pieces still have to be here in one place.’

He laid the glass on its side in between two books, picked up another heavy book, and slammed it down on the glass, shattering the crystal. Whisper leapt off the table and scampered under a bookshelf. Raising the book, he asked, ‘Will that do?’

As she reread the instructions, Meg felt unexpected anticipation tingling through her skin. She moved the books aside and carefully scraped the tiny fragments together around the larger crystal shards, until she was cupping the shattered glass beneath her hands. She glanced over the instructions again, closed her eyes and concentrated on the glass re-forming. There was a hiatus. She felt a familiar surging tingle along her spine that swept into her hands and made them unusually warm. She imagined the crystal glass as it was before it had been shattered. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The wonder etched across Vale’s face confirmed for her, without looking down at the crystal vessel, that her world had irrevocably changed.

S
he never imagined the pain would be so brutal. Squatting, her hands wrapped tightly around the birthing pillars, it felt as if someone was trying to split her open. Sweat soaked her forehead, her cheeks, her chest and back, and she panted for breath before the next surge of pain hit. If nothing else, she was going to research spells on pain prevention if she survived this ordeal. ‘You’re almost done,’ the midwife urged. ‘A little more and it’s over.’ The pain exploded through her groin as if her baby was tearing its way out. She gritted her teeth and bore down, but the pain overwhelmed her until she screamed. And the release came like a rush. ‘You’ve done it!’ the midwife cried. Meg’s legs wobbled. With a grunt, she collapsed and felt hands lay her back onto something soft. She heard the agonised squawk of a newborn and a bloodied, squirming lump was lowered onto her chest. ‘A boy, your ladyship! A healthy young man!’ the midwife chortled with delight. Meg wrapped a hand over the damp, warm infant and clasped her son against her breast.

Queen Sunset kissed Jewel as she entered before crossing to the bed where Meg was propped up, feeding
her baby, tiny chubby pink fingers pressed against her breast. ‘A delicious sight indeed,’ Sunset remarked, as she sat on the bedside and stroked the baby’s tiny cheek. ‘What are you going to call him?’

‘I don’t know,’ Meg answered. ‘I’d thought of several names, but now I can’t decide.’

‘You’ll call him Jon.’

Meg looked up through tired eyes. ‘That was my father’s name.’

‘I know. That’s why you’ll call him Jon—to honour your father’s memory.’

Meg smiled weakly. She hadn’t considered Jon. One of her choices had been Treasure, but how could she explain to the Queen why she’d chosen to name her son after the Queen’s dead bastard son? ‘How do you know my father’s name?’

Sunset smiled. ‘I’m the Queen. I’m meant to know everything,’ she said haughtily, and laughed. ‘In fact, Follower is meant to know everything. Among his many responsibilities is overseeing the keeping of the Royal records. I asked him to find out the name of any soldiers who came from Summerbrook named Farmer. Your father’s name, obviously, was the only one recorded.’

‘Why did you do that?’ Meg asked, as she shifted her baby to her other breast.

‘I wanted to know everything about you,’ the Queen answered. Her smile vanished into a frown and a pout. ‘But I don’t.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Your father—
Jon
Farmer? There were no other Farmers recorded in the Summerbrook region before your father. Farmer is a very common name, of course, and there are Farmers recorded in similar districts all over West Shess, but none of them named a son Jon. Your father, with a foreign first name, just suddenly appears on the records. Why is that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Meg replied, but her memory stirred with Emma’s explanation of her family history. ‘I grew up there. That’s all I’ve ever known.’

Sunset leaned forward and touched the amber necklet. ‘This I
do
know about. Where did you say you got it from again?’

Meg couldn’t remember ever telling the Queen about the crystal, apart from it being an heirloom. ‘It was given to me by an old man—a soothsayer.’

‘What was his name?’

‘Samuel.’

‘Samuel? Another strange name. Samuel who?’

‘He had no surname. He was only Samuel to me.’

‘You’re not telling me everything, are you?’

Meg’s eyes flickered and Sunset said gently: ‘People are willing to
kill
you for this trinket. My Elite Guards have stopped three separate attempts by assassins to get into the palace in the past cycle.’

‘Three?’ Meg gasped. ‘To kill me?’

‘I’m guessing it’s you,’ said the Queen. ‘I know I’m not the most popular person in Port of Joy since I defeated Future and locked him in the Bogpit.’

‘The what?’

‘The Royal dungeon, across the bay. My grandfather built it to lock away the city’s undesirables. It’s either that or publicly execute him,’ Sunset explained. ‘What would you have done?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I hope your son never puts you in that position.’ Sunset’s eyes watered, but she bit her lip. ‘Someone is determined to get your necklet. Vale has told me everything he knows about Conduits. He’s told me the extent of your magical power. And he’s told me that the Holy Order of Seers will rail against you as an abomination—a heresy. Because of your lack of faith, Seer Diamond and the others will want you executed or
incarcerated.’ Sunset held out her arms to take the baby. Meg lifted him away from her breast and wrapped him inside his shawl. Cradled in her arms, she smiled at the tiny sleeping face, before she handed him to the Queen. ‘You know the reasons,’ Sunset continued. ‘You’re a woman. You don’t obviously worship Jarudha. And they’re jealous because you’ve shown that you are a true Potential, not just an acolyte who might be able to create some minor magic like lighting a fire or creating an illusion to fool the simple-minded. But what I want to know is how you came to have this crystal in your possession.’

‘I told you. It came from Samuel.’

‘But who was Samuel? And how did he get hold of it?’

How much could she tell the Queen of Emma’s brief explanation of her genealogy? She sighed. ‘I don’t understand much of my family’s history,’ she began, ‘but I was told that Samuel was my great-uncle. And I was apparently named after my many-times-past grandmother, who Emma said had magical powers. My father’s real family name was Kushel. That’s all I know.’

‘Kushel. An eastern foreign name.’ Sunset shook her head. ‘It doesn’t mean anything to me, although it explains why your father’s name appeared on the register as Farmer. You are a mystery, then, Meg Farmer, and a mystery we have to unravel for your own safety. Seer Diamond has been demanding an interview with you, especially when he learned from Vale that your magical ability extends well beyond healing. I’ve kept him at bay to allow you to learn as much as you could, and, of course—’ she glanced down ‘—to give you space for Jon’s birth.’

‘So will I be meeting with Seer Diamond?’

‘You’ll be meeting with the Council of Seers in fifteen
days,’ Sunset replied, passing Jon back to Meg. ‘And I will chair the meeting.’

Whisper sat on the edge of the cradle, sleek black coat shimmering in the flickering candlelight as she peered at the tiny face. Meg sat beside the cradle, watching the rat. ‘So what do you think?’ she asked. The rat sat up and started cleaning her whiskers. ‘Not very interesting for you, is he?’ Meg remarked, and she lifted Whisper onto her shoulder. She checked that baby Jon was sleeping and securely wrapped, before she turned away and opened a book on her desk. The language was foreign, a strange, jagged style with dots and strokes above letters that complicated the translation, but slowly meaning formed. Called
The Code of Dreams
, the author, Hrashu Ekka, explored dream interpretation. Meg had found the title in the library and she hoped that it would give her insight into her dreams. They had not lessened in intensity in recent times, but they were far less frequent. While some were unique, she also seemed to be going through familiar sequences, and it was those that she wanted to clarify. Her traumatic experience with the visions about Treasure had scarred her to the point where she feared situations that looked anything like those she’d seen in the context of her dreams.

She read the text quickly, but her comprehension was thorough. Ekka’s thesis was that dreams were efforts of the mind to make sense of the jumble of knowledge that was siphoned through it every day. They were signposts insofar as they assembled the ideas that were considered important into an order, rarely a logical one, and the content reminded the sleeping mind of what was important. From this, Meg deduced that her dreams about Treasure reflected her fear for his safety engendered by her love for him, and that she’d seen his
death because she didn’t want it to happen to him. But how did she dream of the blue knight when she’d never known of such a thing? And how did she dream the forging of the sword of light? Ekka’s account couldn’t answer her questions.

Frustrated, she closed the book and opened another, checking on Jon before she commenced reading. Whisper climbed from her shoulder and curled up on her favourite section of sheepskin mat. This book was written in the same style as the one that described the city Yul Ithyrandyr, so her translation was almost instantaneous. She unconsciously touched her amber necklet as she began reading
The Ways of Light
, an instruction manual on the casting of light spells.

The candle flame flickered and wax hissed. Meg looked up from her reading and realised the candle had almost burned out. She rose to fetch another, but hesitated and glanced at the book she’d been reading. She flicked back several pages and reread a spell. Straightening, she shook her head, laughing quietly. ‘I must be overtired,’ she murmured. She closed her eyes, extended her arms and cupped her hands. Concentrating, she imagined a ball of white light forming in her palms. When she opened her eyes, a sphere of light floated exactly as she imagined. She stared in disbelief, overwhelmed by her own creation. Collecting her senses, she followed the text instructions and made the sphere rise slowly towards the ceiling, spreading its light wider across the chamber. Whisper stirred and sat up on her haunches, her tiny paws rubbing her eyes. ‘Impressed?’ Meg asked the rat, as she admired her handiwork.

The mending of the broken glass under Vale’s instructions had been her turning point. Before then, while she knew instinctively that she could work feats of magic, she refused to believe in magic. Now, she
knew otherwise. It wasn’t whether or not magic was possible—it was a question of her limitations. How much could she learn? Bathed in the pure light from the sphere, she returned to reading
The Ways of Light
, utterly intent on memorising the instructions.

Nine people were waiting. Meg stood at the entrance, attended by Smallone and six Elite Guards. The elongated meeting hall in the palace was new to her. The nine people sat on high-backed, black padded chairs on one side of a long mahogany table. A solitary wooden chair awaited Meg on the opposite side. ‘Smallone? You and the Guards may leave,’ Queen Sunset announced from her position at the centre of the assembled group. Her blonde hair was braided and curled, and on it was a precariously perched thin silver emerald-studded coronet. ‘Lady Amber, please sit.’

Meg recognised individuals. To the Queen’s left were the Seers in their blue robes: Diamond, Light, Onyx and Vale. On the Queen’s right, she recognised the Intermediary, Follower. Beside Follower was a man in black, presumably another of the Queen’s Counsels, although Meg couldn’t recall seeing the dark-bearded man. There were two more Seers who were strangers.

‘Welcome, Lady Amber,’ Queen Sunset said, as Meg took her seat. ‘Most of us you already know. I will introduce those whom you do not.’ The Queen looked to her left. ‘Beside Follower is Tithe Lord City Protector. He is responsible for the security of Port of Joy and its immediate regions. And then there is Seer Pathway. And Seer Knowledge. They have just returned from a diplomatic journey.’ She paused, and then said, ‘The purpose of this meeting is quite simple—to determine your status in the kingdom. All members of this council are familiar with the events surrounding your situation. There will be an opportunity for them to
ask questions of you, and for you to ask any questions of the council. Then the council will adjourn and you will be informed of the decision as soon as it is reached.’ Queen Sunset sat back, saying, ‘First, gentlemen, does anyone have questions to ask of Lady Amber?’

Seer Light spoke first. ‘My question is simple,’ he said, as he gave Meg his customary unfriendly glare. ‘Do you believe in Jarudha?’

She knew what her answer should be, but she met Light’s gaze and replied, ‘I don’t know.’

Light snorted and folded his arms. ‘I have all I need,’ he stated bluntly.

‘They say you can make magic at will,’ said Seer Knowledge. ‘Is it true?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, assessing the mood and nature of the stranger. His hair was long and grey like his colleagues’, although darker, suggesting he was younger. ‘I can.’

‘I’d like proof,’ Knowledge said.

Queen Sunset looked at her. ‘Can you show him proof?’

Meg stood and held out her arms, palms cupped, and created a ball of light that she sent floating towards the high ceiling, accompanied by gasps of astonishment. She clapped her hands and the light sphere vanished. ‘Extraordinary!’ said Knowledge.

‘An illusion!’ Light snapped contemptuously.

‘You witnessed the
illusion
of healing as well, didn’t you?’ Queen Sunset retorted, glaring at Light. ‘Are there other questions?’

‘I want to know about the Conduit,’ Diamond said.

‘You’ve been briefed,’ Sunset reminded him.

‘I want to hear it from Amber,’ Diamond insisted.

Meg repeated what she’d previously told the Queen. ‘That’s all I know,’ she ended.

‘What does the name Erin mean to you?’ Light asked.

‘You know I know who he is.’

‘And the Immortals?’

‘Apart from what’s recorded in the scriptures?’

‘Yes,’ Light said.

‘Nothing.’ But she remembered Emma had said that she was a descendant of the Immortals.

‘Nothing at all?’ he persisted.

‘I was told once that there were Immortals,’ she told him, trying to assemble the fragments from Emma’s conversations. ‘I heard of someone called Erin. He had a sister with a strange name. And someone called Alwyn, who’s called The Prophet in
The Word.
But that’s all I know.’

Light’s expression told her he didn’t believe her, but he sat back, feigning satisfaction. ‘Any other questions?’ Queen Sunset asked. ‘Diamond?’ He shook his head. The others followed suit. She looked at Meg. ‘And questions from you, Lady Amber?’

Meg looked along the table. Summoning her courage, she asked, ‘Why are you all afraid of me?’

Diamond’s eyebrows rose, while Light simply snorted and turned away. Curiously, it was Onyx who answered. ‘No one is afraid of you, Amber. In all my years as a Seer, and before that, as an acolyte, I have never seen someone with the range and strength of a Potential that I witness in you.’