The Fire Mages (38 page)

“I’ve explored a lot,” Cal said with a lift of one shoulder. “It’s safe enough, as long as you hold a vessel at all times.”

“We should do something for the Drashonor, too,” Landra said. “Protective spells and wards. Or a sudden illness, to keep him here, away from the fighting.”

After that, the discussion devolved into a heated debate on the merits of various arcane spells unknown to me, although Cal seemed to find it interesting. Before the meeting broke up, I agreed to be ready whenever they felt there was a chance to try something with Drei. I wasn’t optimistic, though. He was too astute to let the mages anywhere near him.

~~~~~

A couple of suns later, the news broke that there was trouble in the south. Reports were muddled; some said the guards of a port holding had attacked our border guards, some said it was a skirmish at a tavern which had got out of hand and some said a border guard had been mistreated and our troops retaliated.

It hardly mattered. There was fighting, a state of alarm had been declared, which was only one stage short of outright war, and suddenly Kingswell was in turmoil. The nobles and reserve guards were mobilised, troops marched around the streets and wagons were commandeered to transport equipment to the southern border. In just a few suns everything was prepared, and Drei, as High Commander, left with the bulk of the nobility able to bear arms. The only positive aspect was that the mages had succeeded in keeping the Drashonor at Kingswell, afflicting the poor man with a sudden virulent rash.

The city was horribly unsettled. The most outlandish rumours flew about, prices of basic goods exploded even though there were no shortages and there were a couple of near-riots. Because of the uncertainty, Krayfon insisted I stay in the mages’ house.

“We cannot let you wander about,” he said, his handsome face twisted with anxiety. “If we have an opportunity to do anything, we must take it at once. We have so little time. Besides, not all the mage guards are loyal to us. It is safer for you here.”

Cal was happier with that arrangement, too. “Drei can’t get to you here,” he said. “No one with ill intentions can get past the wards.”

It didn’t bother me. All my clothes and books were brought from the apartment, and although I had no servants of my own any more, there was no shortage of them to take care of cleaning and laundry and other basic chores. It amused me to remember that not so long ago I had helped in the laundry at the Ardamurkan scribery, and now my discarded clothes vanished and reappeared a sun or two later, washed and pressed in my closet.

I liked living among mages again. It had been one of the best aspects of my time as Cal’s drusse, belonging to that eccentric gaggle of mages’ house residents, and although Kingswell mages were somewhat grander and many of them regarded me superciliously, enough were friendly and welcoming to make my stay enjoyable. I was able to spend time with Cal, too, eating at board together and listening to the chatter afterwards sitting side by side and taking pleasure in that closeness. I wouldn’t have said I was in love with Cal, but I’d developed a fondness for him over time. He’d treated me badly for a while, but he’d been trying to protect me and at least he’d never locked me in a cellar or tricked me into pregnancy.

I still had my birthing nurse, who followed me everywhere now, leaving me only at the door to my rooms last thing at night. One evening we returned quite late, for the mages had talked for hours about the good news from the coast and the anticipation of Drei’s triumphant return. Outside my door sat a fancy wooden box tied up with ribbons.

“What’s this?” the nurse said. “Someone’s left you a present.”

“I expect it’s from someone I’ve healed,” I said, not much interested. “I hope it’s not another vase. There’s only so many of those a person needs.”

“No, it’s cakes, by the look of it. See? It’s got a rose engraved on top. It’s from that expensive bakery near the northwest gate.”

“Oh. That’s better than a vase. Better bring it inside then.”

She carried it through for me, for it was quite a large box and she was of the opinion that a pregnant lady should carry nothing heavier than a fan, and set it on a table.

“Don’t eat them all in one go,” she laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my lady.”

“Don’t you want one?” I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid, and we both peered in. I confess I was disappointed. In my experience expert bakers produced cakes that were uniformly beautiful, each one the same size and shape as its neighbour, a paragon of symmetry. These were not like that. They reminded me of the sort of cakes that my sister Alita and I used to make as children, perfectly edible but slightly lumpy and misshapen. But these had come from one of the best bakeries in the Keep, so I supposed it must be a new fashion.

The nurse wrinkled up her nose. “Maybe I’ll have one in the morning. If there are any left, that is. Good night, my lady.”

That decision probably saved her life.

I wasn’t hungry enough to eat anything just then, but I knew I’d be famished if I woke in the night, so I took the box through to the bedroom and went to bed. I slept a little, but I was getting too large for lying down to be comfortable so I woke again well before dawn. I lit a glow ball to light my way to the bucket room, then I remembered the cakes.

I took one bite, that was all it took. As I swallowed, I could feel something strange, a numbness spreading from my throat outwards, into every limb.

Then the floor rushed up towards me.

I lay on my side, my face pressed against the cold wooden floor. It was utterly dark, for the glow ball had popped out of existence as I fell. There must have been some paralysing agent in the cake, for I couldn’t move, not a finger or eyelash. It was very quick, for already it was squeezing my heart, slowing my lungs, making me struggle to breathe.

My magic sprang to my defence. I could feel it tingling inside me, a warmth fighting the cold grip of death. The pain in my heart lifted a little, my breathing eased, I could feel my toes and wiggle them slightly. I was quite calm, for panicking wouldn’t help and I knew I had only to wait patiently until magic released me from this prison. So I lay in the dark, concentrating on breathing in, breathing out, waiting while a battle raged inside my body. Little by little my magic pushed the paralysis back.

I don’t know how long I lay there, caught like a fly in a web, unable to do the least thing to help myself. I didn’t have much energy to spare for worrying, but I thought a lot about my baby, caught in the middle of this tempest. Could the poison reach her? And what would it do to her, tiny as she was? Perhaps already she was still and lifeless inside me. Then, as the hours passed and the sky began to lighten and still I was unmoving, a new worry; maybe my magic would be exhausted before the poison could be defeated. Perhaps it was not just my baby’s life at stake, but my own. I began to calculate how long it would be before the servants would arrive to clean. Or would I be missed at morning board, and someone – Cal perhaps – would come looking for me, bringing more magic to bear.

Perhaps I didn’t have to wait that long, though. I had another source of magic in the room, my stone vessel, still in my shoulder bag. It was lucky I wasn’t a tidy person; if I’d put my clothes away neatly in the closet it would be across the room and too far away. Instead it was still on the chair where I’d tossed it, not two paces away. All I had to do was get there.

I had some feeling in my arms and legs now, but was it enough? I shuffled myself a finger’s length along the floor. Not too difficult; I’d recovered more than I’d realised. Again I slid myself forward, then again. The bag’s strap dangled enticingly and I reached out, caught it, pulled. It crashed to the floor, almost hitting me on the nose, and then a cascade of discarded clothes fell with it, half burying me. But I had the bag.

With trembling hands I pushed the clothes aside and drew the bag to me. I fumbled with the clasps, fingers stiff as wood, lifting the flap. I reached inside – oh, the relief! Magical energy flooded into me and the sudden influx pushed the paralysing poison back and back. Was it gone? Gingerly I rolled onto hands and knees and levered myself to my feet. I could stand! I swayed a little, but for the moment I was free of my captivity. I took a step forward, then another. My legs felt heavy, as if I were moving through deep water, but I could walk.

The poison wasn’t defeated, though. I could still feel it around my heart, waiting patiently for my magic to be exhausted so that it could claim me again. I had to get help. I lacked the energy to get properly dressed so I threw a cloak over my nightgown and picked up my shoulder bag. I had used perhaps half the power in the stone, but I might need to take some more if the paralysis returned in full force.

I left my rooms slowly, creeping along like an old woman, every step an effort. Outside, the corridor was empty. I had no idea what hour it was, but there were no servants or morning bustle, and all was silence. At the stairs I hesitated. Cal was the only mage with enough power to help me, but his rooms were up two long flights of stairs and there was no assurance he would be there. He’d always been unpredictable, and I didn’t want to struggle all that way only to find he wasn’t even there.

Down was easier, so down I went, one stair at a time. The entrance hall was deserted, but perhaps that was a good thing. I wasn’t sure any longer which of the mage guards could be trusted, and which, like Morthan, were spies of Drei’s. Besides, if the guards had been there, I would have sent them to find Cal and then had to wait, and somehow I knew time was short. I had to find another source of magic before my own power and the stone were exhausted, and that meant the Imperial City.

The great wooden doors were locked and warded, but they opened at once to my touch and I descended another broad flight of stairs to the lobby of the Northeast Tower. The massive doors were closed but a small door to one side stood open to the morning air. The guards, seeing my mage mark, bowed and let me pass without hindrance, although they must have thought me odd, walking about at that hour, barefoot with my hair loose. I didn’t care what they thought as long as they didn’t stop me.

I made for the nearest gate to the Imperial City. The inside of the Keep was in shade, for the sun was still low, but even so I felt better for being out in the open. My breathing was a little easier, even if my legs still fought every step I took. The bare ground should have been hard on my unshod feet, but I could hardly feel them, and with each step they dragged behind me. The little shops and stalls that lined the interior walls were still closed up, but here and there an early shopkeeper, busy setting out wares for the morning, turned to watch me go by.

“You all right, dear?” a woman called out, but I daren’t stop to explain, so I just nodded and passed on. When I was not poisoned, I could reach the Shining Walls in under half an hour, and a lot less than that when pursued by guards. This time my progress was painfully slow, and long before I reached the Keep gate, I realised I was losing the battle. The slow creep of paralysis had begun again.

By the time I reached the gate I could barely walk, but I was terrified to stop in case I never moved again. I leaned against the wall for a moment, fumbling in my bag for the stone. Thank the Moon Gods, another infusion of energy helped, although I dared not take too much.

But my staggering progress had attracted the attention of the gate guards. I was lolling against the wall, waiting for my breathing to return to normal, but I heard their suspicious voices.

“She’s drunk.” “No, a mage – look at the mark.” “Is it a spell?” “What’s the matter with her?” “Even mages drink, you know.” “Keep away, she’ll spell you.”

Then another voice, stronger, overriding the others. “She won’t hurt you, you moron. It’s the Fire Mage Lady. Stand aside, Drenks, will you? Let me get close.” Then, close to my ear, “Lady? Are you hurt? May I help?”

“Need to—” Gods, my voice! No more than a hoarse whisper, numb from the poison. Try again. “Need to get—” Such an effort! A long pause. “The walls.”

“The Shining Walls? You want to go to the Shining Walls?” I nodded. “Urgent?” A stronger nod.

“Here, Drenks, take this.” Some clinking. He was unclipping his sword, by the sound of it.

Then, bless the man, he picked me up in his arms as if I were a child, and set off at a steady jog. In no time, we were along one street, round a corner, down a narrower alley and out into the big square which looked up to the Imperial City. His breathing became laboured – I’d never been exactly dainty, and pregnancy and a fondness for cakes hadn’t helped – but he didn’t slow until we drew near to the walls. He’d brought me right to the main gate, I realised.

“This . . . all right?” he puffed.

“Yes.” Then, with an effort, “Down.”

He deposited me gently within a handspan of the wall, and I reached out to it, placing the palm of one hand flat against it. The Shining Walls were not really a source of power, but there was so much magic in them that it spilled over into me and I felt the effects immediately. I wondered if I could replenish the stone vessel, but when I tried, nothing happened. There just wasn’t enough magic for that. But I was at the Imperial City, and all I had to do now was get to the tower with the pillar in it. Surely there was enough magic inside the walls, emanating from buildings, in the air itself, to get me there?

I wasn’t sure, but I had to try, even though I barely had the energy left to put one foot in front of the other. I shuffled along the wall to the mark and pressed on it to open the gate. There was the broad road leading to the library, with the ceremonial arch in between. For a moment I hesitated, quailing as I remembered how far away the pillar tower was, and all uphill. But it had to be done. I took a deep breath.

“Lady.” I’d almost forgotten the guard. “Lady, I’ll carry you wherever you want to go, if you can protect me from the birds.”

My heart lifted. He would carry me! All I had to do was touch him – a hand, his face – to keep the birds away from him.

“Thank you.” It was all I could manage.

He picked me up again and strode through the open gate and up the paved street. His hands were lost in the folds of my cloak, so I raised one hand to his face, resting it against his cheek. The effort of so small a thing was almost more than I could manage. Every muscle in my arm burned with fire, and gradually my hand slipped until it lay on his shoulder, just one finger pressed against his bare neck. It was lucky he was not better mailed, or it would have been impossible.

My head rested against his chest, and I had no power to move it, so whenever we came to a junction he stopped and revolved until I could see all the ways and direct him accordingly. And finally we reached the pillar tower. We had a bit of trouble opening doors, because the great metal rings were too stiff and heavy for my useless fingers. He slowed as we climbed up and up the stairs, his breath rattling in my ear as he struggled on, but he never once stopped. The final door was warded and I had only to touch it to hear the lock snick open.

And then we were there, and the power thrummed around me, invisible but potent. The guard set me down, and I walked slowly across to the pillar and set my hands against it. There was a sudden wash of energy into me, then a dwindling, then another rush of it before it settled down to a steady flow. It wasn’t the usual ecstatic experience, perhaps my body was too battered and exhausted for that, but I felt better at once. Gradually, in minute steps, the poison was driven out of my body.

When at last I felt completely well and unsullied again, and lowered my hands, I found the guard still standing exactly where he’d set me down, his face a picture of terror. What must he make of all this? The pillar, indeed the whole process of renewal was a huge secret amongst the mages, so the poor guard would have no idea what he’d just seen. Just as well the effect was muted this time, otherwise he would have had a huge surprise when I tore his clothes off. I smiled to reassure him.

“Thank you for your help. You saved my life.”

He relaxed then, and smiled a little himself, wiping his sweaty face with one arm. “Then my debt is repaid, Lady.”

That was a surprise. But looking at him properly for the first time, I realised I knew him. “You’re one of the guards who followed me through the gate when I was running away.”

“Yes. You kept the birds away from me when the commandants were – taken. Are you well now?”

“Yes, I’m completely better.” A frown. “I think so, anyway.” I could hardly believe it, but I could detect no trace of the poison.

“What—? But I have no right to ask what happened. It’s not my concern.”

“I was poisoned.”

“Deliberately? Someone tried to kill you? By the Gods! But that thing—” He waved at the pillar. “It cured you?”

“Yes. It’s full of magic.”

“Is it safe for me to move? Without you touching me, I mean?”

I reassured him, and he walked slowly round the room, half awed and half puzzled.

“Can you feel it?” I said. “The magic?”

“No. The air is warm in here, but nothing unusual in that. It just looks like a plain marble pillar.”

I laughed. I could feel it beating down on me, and the whole air was charged and tingling. I could feel the power of the pillar from scores of paces away. Yet he felt nothing. I couldn’t quite imagine it. Maybe it was like being blind, and hearing people talk about colours and clouds and butterflies.

I led the guard – Killin, his name was – back to the gate behind the vegetable market where I could let him out inconspicuously. I gestured for him to go through.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Go back out there, where anyone with a box of cakes could try to kill me? “No, I’m safer here.”

“In case they try again? Do you want me to notify the authorities? The mages?”

Would that help? Not really. “Can you get a message to Lord Mage Cal for me? I can write something for you to take.”

“Better not write anything. In case it gets intercepted.” I hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll tell him you’re here. Where will you be – at the room with the marble pillar?”

“Yes. Can you get into the mages’ house?”

He blushed. “Yes, I’m – erm, friendly with one of the laundry workers there. Right, Cal, you said?”

He turned to leave, but I caught his arm. “I haven’t told you
my
name.”

He grinned, looking very young. “Everyone knows
your
name, Lady Mage Kyra.”

I went back to the pillar tower and waited for Cal. Then I wished I’d said I would be at the house we’d stayed in before. At least then I could get dressed and have something to eat. I was famished. But I’d said I would be here, so I didn’t like to leave in case Cal came looking for me and I missed him.

I ended up going back downstairs and into the little two storey house next door to the pillar tower. I guess that in the era when the tower was a proper scribery, the house was where the Masters lived, for it had bedrooms and sitting rooms and something more comfortable to sit on than the floor. When Cal came, he would have to pass through the central corridor to get to the tower, so I moved a long chair to a position where I could watch for him, and sat with my feet up, waiting.