The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) (64 page)

THE MAGIC COUNCIL

SNEAK PEE
K:

“The Magic Council”

The sequel to “The Crimson League,” now available on amazon.com for kindle and in paperback.

CHAPTER ONE

Kidnapped

Vane Unsten, at age seventeen, was no ignorant boy. He not only could read and write; he had a passion for history, and his mentor Zacry had taught him the ways of magic. Both men were sorcerers, and after four years of study a fair number of spells had become second nature to Vane, almost commonplace. Ironically, Vane’s education was the cause of the stupid expression that had come over him as he stood in Zacry Porteg’s study with his auburn hair in his face and a letter in his hand. That letter was what had startled him; had he not been able to decipher its contents, he would not have appeared so muddled in his thoughts.

The emergency’s unexpectedness intensified the haunted air that Vane’s eyes, deep brown and too large for his face, customarily evoked. Some daunted-looking individuals get swallowed up by their surroundings, but Vane was not one of those people. First of all, he could not be called timid, though neither was he particularly bold; that first impression of him being overwhelmed was a lie of his physiognomy. Second, his apparent introversion was not one that pleaded, “Don’t consider me. Pass me over, please; I would rather be ignored.” Quite in contrast, the eyes Vane had never grown into drew attention when he was with others (he was alone just now). They screamed in silence to be noted. The strength of his voice, not as deep as some but resounding in tone, came as a surprise when one first heard him talk. One rather expected him to squeak, like a mouse.

“It can’t be. It just can’t be.”

Vane dropped into his mentor’s armchair. In the moonlight that filtered through the window and by the lamp he had set on the desk, Vane stared at the parchment in his hand. The letter was from the king of Herezoth, his home country, and quite short.

Zacry,

I need you in Podrar. At the Palace. Come discreetly, come quickly, and in the name of God, leave your sister behind—she’d be conspicuous, far too conspicuous.

One of my guards will be waiting for you at the servants’ entrance, on the west side. I hate to ask this of you, but I have nowhere else to turn. Please, come in haste. Transport if you can, but be discreet at all costs, even that of time—a rogue faction of the magicked has my children, and will kill them if it learns I sent for you.

Vane respected the king. Loved the king. It
had been Rexson Phinnean
to bring Vane to the small, quiet nation of Traigland in the first place, in order to learn from Zacry. Vane’s parents had been
a duke and duchess in Herezoth
and faithful to the royal family, even after Vane’s sor
cerer uncle, his mother’s twin,
executed a coup d’état mere months after Vane w
as born. Valkin, Vane’s father, had
died in the initial scuffle for the Crystal
Palace. Vane’s sorceress mother had
met her end in a later battle, the final battle to reinstate the legitimate monarch, who still ruled, a father who had now lost his three sons and perhaps young daughter with them. So Vane gathered from that letter.

Herezoth’s ruler was an honest man, with a streak of selflessness that Vane personally could confirm. “Selfless” was the word Vane thought, but “loyal,” perhaps, would have been more accurate; Vane’s parents had lost their lives for Rexson’s sake, and Rexson repaid them by watching over their orphan son. Admittedly, “watching over” meant little more than sending clothes, books, and tutors, and arranging for Vane to visit the Palace every third year when he had still been living in Herezoth with the woman who had raised him, an innkeeper named Teena whom the boy called his aunt. But then, Vane’s situation was delicate. Not only was he a sorcerer, a dangerous thing to
be at any time across the ocean;
he was also the dead dictator’s nephew. Vane’s visits to Rexson’s home had never been publicized.

Rexson could have involved himself to a greater degree in Vane’s upbringing, should have done more to make Herezoth s
afer for those with magic powers
: these were Vane’s principal criticisms of the monarch, especially the last. The king had never reached out to the empowered, a community that felt persecuted in general and even personally by Rexson, for Rexson had torn down Zalski’s rule. Zalski was Vane’s uncle, and he had proposed that the magicked not be persecuted. In fact, he had thought sorcerers should rule the kingdom.

Rexson was wrong to ignore the magic problem, but he did the best he could. He had suffered much to reclaim the throne as the only surviving member of the Phinnean line. Vane’s heart broke to learn the king was suffering again, and shame filled him to think how the pains came, as before, at the hands of people with powers like Vane’s own.

Zacry had already left home. He had probably gone to his sister, the sister referenced in the king’s letter. She was older than her brother and had been a major player in Rexson’s bid to retake power.

Vane turned invisible
with a whispered magic word
. He forgot his lamp, leaving it alight, and a second phrase transported him to Kora Cason’s family room. The place was all aclutter: dolls, whittled toys, and wooden swo
rds covered nearly all the space that Kora’s mother’s loom left free
. A shelf on the wall held a small collection of books, most of
them grammars for the children.

A
s straight and strong of body as any man of twenty-six
,
Zacry was there with his
dark hair and gray-green eyes. H
is rugged face
looked
more severe than usual. His brother-in-law Parker, red-faced from the fires of the smithy where he passed his days working, had taken to pacing the floor, as much as that was possible with all the mess. Only the house’s mistress looked pale, though the ruby that had spent the last fifteen years fixed to her forehead provided even her a splotch of scarlet. Her chestnut curls were pulled in a loose bun, and her skin had a gray tinge. The baby’s dress she was stitching shook in her hand.

“I’m going with you,” Kora told her brother.

Zacry protested, “You have five children.”

She shook the dress in his face. “You have an infant of your own! This is for your daughter, not mine. Tressa wouldn’t fit in this.”

Parker stopped his roaming to put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Zacry has to go. The king sent for him.”

“And specifically wants you to stay here,” said Zacry. Kora’s grayness deepened.

“I don’t believe you. Where’s the letter? Why didn’t you bring it?”

“You shouldn’t go,” said Parker. “You belong here, and I don’t say that for the kids. It’s because of who you are, because the king had to banish you last time just to s
ave your life. After
those papers printed
your letter
, the whole kingdom knows about your ruby. They know you’re the Marked One.”

Kora swore. “That ridiculous legend
. I don’t care if it’s about me.
I still say it’s absurd. A hero to save Herezoth with a mark on his face…. I didn’t put the ruby there, and if I did
save Herezoth, I most certainly had help.”

Parker told her, “If anyone over there caught the gem glinting, well, this time Rexson would have to kill you. You know that, Kora. He wouldn’t have a choice, and you wouldn’t be the only victim. If people saw t
hat ruby, word would get around
and the king’s own sons would die. The magic folk would kill them. Tha
t’s what
Zac said. You want to be responsible for that?”

Kora threw an empty glass against the wall, where it shattered dangerously close to Vane’s head. He ducked to avoid it, but did not blame her. It must be hard to live in exile, to see your brother going home when you yourself never could. Kora had already spent fourteen years in Traigland, and she was young, thirty-two or thirty-three. Traigland was far from horrible, bu
t it was quaint
. Vane could not imagine spending a lifetime here.

“What do they want?” she demanded. “The kidnappers, what do they want? Are they blackmailing the royals?”

Zacry said, “I haven’t a clue why they did this. I don’t know what makes Rexson think I can help him, but it’s clear he does think that, so….”

“The king needs us both,” Kora insisted. Not only her forehead, but also her eyes looked red, gleaming with passion, with determination. With envy. “I know him. He’s planning a rescue attempt, that’s why he wants you. Who knows how many are in this faction that took his kids?”

Vane cancelled his invisibility. The others jumped as he appeared in their midst.

“Rexson will have me,” said the boy. “I came of age two years ago, and I want to go with Zacry. Kora’s right, the king’ll need more than one sorcerer to get his sons back, and the man’s done a lot for me. I have a debt to him…. I found his letter,” Vane explained.

Kora’s expression softened a bit, but she told him, “You aren’t going. Your mother would kill me if I let you do this. Her first priority was always protecting you.”

“It seems to me,” noted Zacry, “that Laskenay’s first priority was helping Rexson. She didn’t have to fight, you know. Knowing what her decision cost her, I’d say what would pain her now would be you leaving your children without a mother like she did, like she felt she had to. You don’t have to. Rexson didn’t send for you.”

Kora spoke with a clenched jaw. “You have an infant daughter,” she reminded him a second time.

“I haven’t forgotten that! I’m not the one exiled under penalty of death, and look, the king
did
send for me. I can’t well ignore him. That would be callous. You’re not suggesting I ignore the man?”

“Have you talked to your wife about this?”

“I spoke with Joslyn before I came here. She’s not happy, obviously, but she sees the clear obligation I…. I’m worried about her, Kora. She’s not been having an easy time of it, with the baby. It’s her first, so naturally she’s scared, and now I’m leaving. Will you help her? Let her know she can turn to you, if she needs anything?”

Kora took a deep breath, to gain some measure of control. She folded her brother in her arms. “Of course Joslyn can come to me. She can come to me in the dead of night if she needs to, or to Mother. You just worry about yourself and those poor boys.”

Zacry pulled away from her. His eyes grew hard, his face rigid. His hand balled into a fist. “They’re younger than I was,” he said. “Every one of them is. The oldest is.”

“I know,” said Kora. “I know they are.”

“Whoever those monsters are, they’ll pay. I’ll make them pay. No one uses children as pawns.”

Kora bit her lip. “Watch yourself, Zacry. Don’t make this personal.”

Vane said, “It is personal, for all of us. We know Rexson, and he doesn’t deserve this, let alone his kids.” He caught Kora’s eye. “I know his kids, and I’m going back to help them.”

Kora grabbed Vane’s hands. “I wish you wouldn’t,” she said. “I really wish you wouldn’t. But I won’t try to stop you. For one, I’m not your mother, I know that all too well. Forgive my forbidding you earlier. It’s not my place to forbid you anything. I was no older than you are now when I joined the Crimson League, and much greener. Much too green.”

The Crimson League was what the organized resistance movement against Zalski had named itself.

“Vane’s ready,” Zacry asserted. “He’s ready to return where he belongs. I’d tell him in no uncertain terms if I thought otherwise. He’s growing restless here.”

Kora still had her fingers wrapped in those of Laskenay’s son. “He is,” she agreed. “I mentioned that to him last week, and we talked the situation over. Discussed him maybe getting on a boat sometime next year.” She pleaded with the boy, “Just promise me you’ll follow Zacry’s instructions. And the king’s.”

Vane promised. He said, “I won’t forget those stories about my mother. I feel like I’ve gotten to know her through you. When my aunt gave me her letter, it was hard to imagine she’d been a decent person. It was hard to imagine her at all. All I could think was that man had been my uncle.”

Vane’s voice fell away. Kora kissed him on the cheek, holding back tears. Parker put an arm around her waist, a well-toned arm thanks to his work, to remind her that he, at least, was going nowhere. The gesture bolstered her. “When are you leaving?” she asked her brother.

“Tonight. We’ll transport. I can make the distance to the coast.”

“To Herezoth’s coast?” said Parker.

Traigland was an island, and a good two thousand miles from Herezoth across the straight sea. The journey by boat, however, would have taken at least a month, as the crags and cliffs of an unfortunately placed marine mountain chain meant the water route had to cut far from any kind of direct path.

“Godspeed,” Kora told the men.

* * *

After visiting his sister, Zacry returned home. He found Joslyn in the long, narrow, and unexpectedly clean kitchen. She had straightened up and swept in his absence, he suspected out of nerves, to give her hands something to do. He told her that Vane would travel with him, and neither her coffee-tinted face nor her deep, dark eyes, both typical of Traigland natives, revealed any emotion. She had expected Vane would join his teacher, one way or another, as soon as Zacry had shown her the king’s letter. In fact, she had made them both sandwiches of salted beef and fresh rye bread to take with them for a midnight snack, so they would waste no time heading off. “No use dallying,” she said.