The Madness Project (The Madness Method) (51 page)

Somehow, a little bitter voice in my mind whispered, it
didn’t really matter.  Because one day, if I survived this madness and didn’t
get disinherited along the way, I would be King.  I’d be expected to marry a
noble woman, if not some foreign royal, and Samyr and I had been paired off for
as long as we both could remember.  Maybe it was inevitable.  Maybe I had no
choice.

“Do you really care about me, Samyr?” I asked.  “Or do you
just care about the idea of me, because your whole life, that’s what everyone
told you to do?”

“What’s gotten into you?” she whispered, fierce, tears
trembling like rage on her lashes.  “Maybe I don’t care about you, if this is
what you are now.  You’re not the same person who left a month ago.”

“No,” I said.  “I’m not.”

Suddenly I wanted to comfort her, because she looked like
the world was collapsing around her.  But even as I reached out to touch her
arm, she batted my hand away and retreated into the palace without a word or
backward glance.

I sighed and leaned my elbows on the balustrade, not even
caring if it soaked the sleeves of my dress coat.  Maybe Samyr was right. 
Maybe I just didn’t care about anyone, or anything.  I had a hollow in my chest
where my heart should have been—and I didn’t even care about that.

“Did you fight with Samyr?” a soft voice asked behind me,
after moments or minutes had drifted past.

I turned and found my mother standing in the doorway,
watching me with a strange sadness in her eyes somewhere between pity and
rebuke.  I bit my lip and turned back to the railing, because seeing her made
me feel vulnerable in every way that I couldn’t afford to be.  When she came
beside me and laid her hand over mine, I shuddered and drew a long, unsteady
breath.

“She wants something from me I can never give her,” I
murmured.  “She’s right about me.  I’ve changed so much.  I don’t…”  My voice
trailed off, and I shifted to meet her gaze.  “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“You’re my son,” she said quietly.

I swallowed, hard.  “But not Trabin’s.”

Her eyes widened, just briefly, then she turned to face the
city.  “Ah.”

“Kor told me.”

“Oh, did he?  I’ll have to speak with him.”

“I know about him, too,” I said.

“And your father?”

I nodded, slowly.  “I didn’t understand why the rumors of
his death upset you so much before.”  I shifted my hand over to clasp hers. 
“I’m sorry.”

“Well, Kor probably only told you the part of it he knew. 
I’m sure he made it sound like I was quite the free woman, didn’t he?”

“No, he really didn’t,” I said warmly, frowning at the shine
of her eyes.

She sighed.  “I met Eyid long before he became Godar.  He
came to Tulay when I was a girl, about your age, as part of a diplomatic
envoy.  We were both young.  Young fools.  I fell in love with him.  So much in
love with him.”  She smiled, a rarer smile than I’d ever seen on her face.  “He
was wild as lightning, strong and determined, and so
foolishly
proud.” 
Her hand reached up and took my chin.  “You are so much like him, Tarik.  You
have his spirit.”

My cheeks warmed and I turned away.  I didn’t see anything
in myself that might have resembled him. 

“What happened, then?  Why didn’t you marry him?”

“I would have,” she said.  “We made promises to each other. 
But the Island Wars came, and Tulay entered a treaty with Cavnal, with my
marriage to Prince Trabin being a core part of the negotiations.  I vowed I
would try to love him, but…I loved Eyid first.  Before I left Tulay for the
wedding, Istia sent an envoy to my father’s Court to declare their neutrality
in the war.  And of course they sent their Godar’s second in command.  They
sent Eyid.”  She bent her head, her gloved finger running over the stone
balustrade.  “I wish you didn’t have to know my weakness, Tarik,” she
murmured.  “But I have you now, so I will never regret it.”

My throat felt strangely hoarse.  I tried to clear it before
asking, “And Trabin never knew?”

“We were wed three days later,” she said with a strange,
rueful smile.  “Before that day at Ridgemark, he never even suspected you were
not his son.  But then, you had the magery gene, which meant only one thing.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.  “If I’d understood one tenth of
what it would have meant for you, I would never—”

“I know, love.  I never blamed you.”  She glanced up at me,
drawn into a thoughtful silence for what felt like minutes.  Then she smiled
faintly and said, “If I could wish one thing for you, Tarik, it’s that you
might fall in love with a mage like you.”

I blushed, fiercely, a little prickle of cold tracing over
me, and I had to clear my throat again to find my voice.  “What do you mean?”

“I’ve tried to love Trabin as I should,” she murmured.  “And
I am his wife and will be till I die, and I would want nothing else.”

She said it with a pain in her voice, though, and I marveled
at how strong she’d been, for so many years, loving a man whom she knew
despised her, all for the sake of the kingdom.  And…for me.  She was braver and
stronger than Trabin would ever be.

“I will be honest,” she went on, “there has always been
something so
safe
about loving Trabin, something…ordinary.  There is a
power and a force when two mages fall in love like nothing I could ever
explain.  You would have to experience it yourself.  It’s like the universe
itself can’t contain that love.”  She cupped my face in her hands, her eyes
searching mine.  “I want you to feel that someday.  We are mages, Tarik.  Don’t
hide behind a lie because you are afraid of the truth.  I don’t know what will
happen tomorrow or the next day, but I know you will find out who you are, and
will be that person with all your strength.”

“I find I’m rather afraid of the person I might be.  I’m
afraid of what I might do,” I said, my voice a scant whisper, threatening to
break with every word.  I leaned out over the balustrade, feeling the wind
tearing my hair.  “I have these headaches,” I said.  “They get worse and
worse.  Every time I do anything with my magic, it feels like my head is being
crushed.  Sometimes I hear things, but I know they aren’t real.  It must be my
magic is causing it, but I’m not sure why.”  I glanced at her.  “I was supposed
to ask you about Eyid’s magic.  And yours.”

“Well,” she said, studying me with some alarm.  “You should
know that being a mage is so much more than just having a gift.  A gift is an
expression of magic, but not the fullness of it.  Often a gift will show where
a person is proficient.  For instance, a Flint might excel in magic involving
the manipulation of matter.  A Mask is better at magic that controls people’s
perceptions of reality.”  She sighed.  “As for me and Eyid, well.  I’m only
what they call a Maven; I have two gifts.  I’m a Blood and a Knack…though not a
very good Knack,” she added with some chagrin.  “But Eyid was an Ace.  He was
the most powerful mage I’ve ever known, but he complained of the headaches,
too.  Feeling…broken, out of place.  He was also a Mask.  Maybe that is where
you got your gift.”

“My gift,” I echoed, the words sounding strangely lost in
the darkness.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what I am.”

“Darling,” she said.  “You’re a Mask.”

“Yes, and then came the day that I was afraid of being
discovered, so I became a Cloak.  And I nearly got sliced open by a pike and
became…I don’t even know what.  Something that could control objects I wasn’t
even touching.”

“A Telekine,” she whispered.

“What am I?” 

I gripped my hand into a fist, tighter and tighter, while
the silence dragged out.  Then she sighed and covered my fist with her hand.

“It seems you’re an Ace, like he was,” she murmured.  “Poor
darling.  I know how hard it was for him.  But you can bear it.  You’re strong
like him.”

“Sometimes I don’t feel very strong.  Sometimes I wish I had
no gift.  I wish I was just Tarik, with none of these lies…”

I jerked away, pressing my hand to my forehead.  To my
surprise, I heard her laugh softly.

“What?” I muttered.

“You would be bored sick in minutes,” she said.  “You are
nothing ordinary, Tarik.  Remember that.”

“But all I am is a lie.”  I leaned my arms on the
balustrade.  Then, for no reason whatsoever, I turned my head to grin at her. 
“One of Kantian’s girls is a mage.”

Her eyes danced.  “The one from the motorcar accident?”

I blushed and nodded.  “What would she do if she knew the
truth about me, Mother?  How I’d lied to her?  How many times I’ve betrayed her
family…”  I bowed my head, swearing.

She didn’t rebuke me, but laid her hand on my shoulder. 
“Does she care for you?”

“Oh, hell, I don’t even know,” I said.  “I treat her so
terribly sometimes…but it’s just because I can’t…”

“My sweet boy.  I understand.  Listen to me carefully a
moment.”  She lowered her voice, drawing me closer to her.  “There are things
going on in this palace that worry me.  I’m a Tulian mage who sympathized with
Istia, understand?  Cavnal is my home now, and I wish no harm to come to
her…but I’m afraid that there are wheels in motion here that will threaten
everything else I hold dear.  And I fear for the mages in this city.  Trabin
won’t let them stay free for long, and I’m terrified of what the scientists are
doing in their Ministry.  You have to find out what is going on.  And,
darling,” she said, fixing me with an intense gaze.  “I’m afraid you might have
to make a choice, and it won’t be easy.”

Chapter 7 — Hayli

The Kalethelia festival was a riot of purple and gold and
golden noise, but all I could think about was how the last time I’d been in
this plaza, Prince Tarik had gotten in a fight for me and chatted with me like
we were chums.  Anuk made a smart comment early on about keeping eyes out for
the Prince, but Jig just laughed and dared the sky to send Tarik his way. 
Coins bought me a Kalethelia cake and we sat together on the wall, watching the
crowds.

“Wonder where Derrin’s got to tonight,” I said after a bit,
munching all around the edges of the cake where the sticky glaze was the
thickest.

“Reckon Kantian’s got him off pulling the old peek and
speak,” Coins said.

“The old what?”

He winked at me.  “Spy and report, right?  Keeping an eye on
that crazy bird Rivano.”

I turned to him, puzzled.  “What d’you mean?  Rivano’s not
crazy.  Least, I dan’ think he is.  Not much, anyhow.  He’s been nothing but
good to me.”

“Well, I like him for that.  But you have to admit, he’s a
strange critter.”

“They’re all like that,” I muttered.  “The Clan.”

“Heard you and Jig might be signing up,” he said, with a
strange glint in his eyes.  “True?”

“Dan’ na,” I said.  “Jig says yeah, but I just want to be
useful.  Learn more about my magic.”

“Can’t fault you there.” 

He claimed a half-burned cigo from the ground by his feet
and brushed it off on his waistcoat.  I made a face as he examined it.

“That’s foul,” I remarked.

He just grinned and held up a hand, calling, “Scorch!”

I winced.  The mage was crouched on the wall a bit down from
us, like a carved devil-stone.  He turned his head, slowly, and peered at us
through the shadows.  My blood chilled.

“Coins!” I hissed.  “Dan’ talk to him!  He gives me the
heebies.”

But I was too late.  Scorch had already slipped from the
wall and was striding toward us, dark and elegant despite the scar twisting his
face.  I shivered and edged closer to Coins.  These powerful mages, they were
elemental
. 
If Shade was wind and lightning and the wild edge of the storm, Scorch was
shadow and fire and the pit of the night.  Next to them, I felt so, so small.

“What do you want with me?” Scorch asked, voice low.

“Gimme a light, mate?” Coins asked, grinning, and held out
the cigo.

Scorch snorted and flicked a glance at me.  I must’ve looked
bird-scared, because he kind of smirked and took a step closer to me.  “You’re
not afraid of me, are you?”

I swallowed and tossed my head, trying to stand a little
taller.  “Not afraid of aught,” I said, and blushed, because everyone was
afraid of something, deep down, and my lie only made me weak.

“I’m sure,” he murmured.  “You’re one of my kind, aren’t
you?  The little Shifter?”

I almost denied it.  Almost.  But instead I said nothing at
all.

He kept his eyes locked on mine, but his fingers came up
between us and he snapped them, once, sending a little tongue of flame flicking
into the sky.  I jumped.  I couldn’t help it.  I grobbing jumped like I was
afraid of him, and he just laughed like he knew it.

“Cut it out, Scorch,” Coins said, eyes narrowing up. 
“You’re not impressing anyone.”

The laugh died on Scorch’s lips and he turned a withering
glare on Coins.  “You know my name,” he said.  “Somehow I can’t seem to recall
yours.”