The Royal Wizard (2 page)

“I wish you would be serious,” she chastised. Even after all her time in study, even at her age of ten and nine, Nico had more faith in her than she had in herself.  “What of the prince?” She asked, tracing circles in the snow with her toe.

“What of him?” Nico returned.

Nia sighed as the wind picked up, ruffling her rebellious hair. She brushed it back and readjusted her hood as she spoke. “The king will not be king for much longer, you said so yourself. I will be in the service of Prince Saeran, and I know nothing about him.”

Prince Saeran’s accomplishments were commendable, but what should she expect from a man raised in war?

“Who is to say he will heed my word when…when you’re…” She looked away. Her greatest fear was not for herself but for all of Wilderheim if its ruler and wizard were always at each other’s throats. This land thrived because of the balance of justice and magic. If that balance became disturbed, everything would suffer, and that weakness would call to those hungry for its secrets.

Nico patted her hand. “Prince Saeran is a good man. I have sworn to provide counsel to the rulers of this kingdom, and I will bring them someone whose judgment I trust and value more than my own. But by that same token, Nia, I swear to you that I would not bring you to a king unworthy of his crown and your magic.”

“You have great faith in him.”

“As I do in you.”

She smiled. “Tell me about him.”

Nico sighed. “It has been a long time since I’ve played games with the young prince. He used to love seeing me weave illusions. I would show him pictures of heroes and horses when he was a child, and he would laugh in delight and say that one day he would grow up to be just like them.”

A gust of wind snatched Nia’s hood off her head. Pulling her cloak closer around her, she helped Nico to his feet and led him back inside the castle.

“Once,” he continued, “there was a great celebration and the castle was filled with foreigners. They came from faraway lands, bearing gifts that dazzled the king and his son. The prince walked among them, looking at everything and asking hundreds of questions about them until the merchants became unsettled, fearing the prince’s displeasure. Then an old woman with a veil hiding her face beckoned to him and placed a simple wooden box in his hands. ‘What is it?’ he asked. The woman waved her hands over the box and opened it. It was empty. The prince laughed and thanked her, then returned to his seat at his father’s side.”

Nia frowned. “I don’t understand. What was the box for?”

Nico chuckled as he lowered himself into a chair before the hearth. A fire sprang to life and he sighed in pleasure as its steady warmth seeped into his old bones. “It was only a box. But as she waved her hands over it, she slipped a colorful stone into his hand. Saeran spent the rest of the night trying to learn the trick.”

“I assume there is lesson to be learned from this story,” Nia encouraged. She filled a basin with hot water and placed it on the floor for Nico to soak his aching feet.

“The lesson is, child, if you keep searching for answers about the obvious, you will miss the true treasure. There is no point to worrying about the prince’s reaction to you. What you should be worrying about is what sort of king he’ll make.”

The way he looked at her as he said it, Nia knew he’d seen that very fear in her mind. Rather than confirm her insecurities, she said with confidence, “A good one.”

Nico raised a brow in question.

“He will have me to advise him, will he not?” She grinned with humor she didn’t feel.

Startled by her answer, Nico laughed, shaking his head at her impudence. His apprentice had grown into a unique woman. Though she hid beneath her cloak most days, she was beautiful as few women were. She had the easy charm and playfulness of a child, yet her mind was as ancient as his own. She worried, at times too much, about things that rarely plagued even the king himself. Nia had become like a daughter to Nico, and she was more than worthy to serve as Saeran’s advisor.

But would the prince be worthy of her advice?

Nico had glanced into the future, and what he’d seen troubled him.

Nia poured wine into two goblets and gave one to Nico. “It’s strong. I think this should be a day of celebration.”

“Wisely said,” Nico praised, bringing the goblet to his thirsty lips. He ached. In his body as well as his mind. For Nia’s sake he had stayed longer than he should have. He wanted to be there to present her at court as his successor. Nia should not have to face that on her own. But the effort was taking a toll on him. It wouldn’t be long now.

Glancing at his apprentice, he felt at peace. Not because his worries left him, but because Nia exuded serenity. She was the calm in a raging storm. She would do the same for the prince and help him lead the kingdom. Nico had chosen well when he’d brought her under his care. At the age of nine, small and starved, an orphan with no recollection of where she’d come from, she’d proven herself capable of much more than either of them had anticipated.

“They’ve not yet hung the mistletoe,” he remarked absently.

“They will do it before the prince’s arrival,” Nia told him. “Would you like to see?” As with any ritual at Midwinter, the hanging of mistletoe would be a celebration all on its own.

Nico shook his head. “Not tonight,” he said, closing his eyes to hide his sorrow. “I think I will rest awhile before the prince’s banquet.” Before he would present Nia. As much as it pained him, he could not wait any longer. After tomorrow, Nia would no longer be his charge and he would no longer be needed.

Nia kissed his brow. “Sleep now,” she said, covering him with a blanket. “I will wake you when the time comes.”

* * *

“Stable the horses,” the cloaked rider said, and without waiting to see his orders obeyed, he ran up the stairs into the great hall. The guards changing shifts grew wide eyed when they beheld him. He smiled in greeting and held a finger to his lips to silence them.

It was good to come in from the cold. The sun had set not long ago, but when it did it took all warmth and comfort with it. Stripping his gloves and cloak, he paused by a hearth to warm his hands. The journey had wearied him. He glanced at the chair nearby, wanting nothing more than to rest awhile, but he knew he’d be asleep the moment he sat down and there was important business to attend to.

Shaking off some of the winter’s chill, he continued on his path, up the stairway and to the royal wing. A long hallway stood dark before him, all the torches extinguished for the night, but he could see well enough by the light of the moon. He traced the tapestries with a reverent hand as he passed, recalling fond memories of hiding behind them. The servants always pretended they couldn’t see his feet poking out.

At the very end was a set of double doors. The guards who stood watch before them during times of war and unrest were gone, no longer needed now that peace had been restored. He grasped the handles and shoved the portals open.

As he’d suspected, the chamber was lit with candles and the king himself paced before the hearth, tugging at his beard.

“What weighty business troubles your mind, my king, to furrow your brow this late at night?” he asked, deepening his voice and biting back a grin.

King Manfred started and spun around to stare at him, but the moment recognition dawned, the ruler of Wilderheim rushed forward to embrace him. “My son,” he cried. “My boy!”

Ceremonies were for kings. There would be time enough for them tomorrow and the next day, and the next. After ten years, this was all Saeran had wanted. To embrace his father without crowds of witnesses watching their every move and gesture.

“I’m home,” he said as his father wept with joy.

CHAPTER 2

It was late. Nia was exhausted, but she couldn’t sleep. Tomorrow the prince would arrive and Nico would present her at court as his apprentice. He would expect her to stand tall before them and be worthy. Worry gnawed at her. What if they turned her away or shunned her? Women, as all mothers, shared a connection with the earth, and female witches with gifts of foresight, truthsense and the like were common enough. But it was rare for any woman to carry raw magic like Nia did, let alone so much of it.

She would have to prove herself, if the king deigned to allow it. If even one of her spells went awry…

Nia set aside the scroll she’d been studying and took another tome from the shelves. Yawning, she read spell after spell, committing it to memory. She wiggled her fingers, playing with magic while she read. Not enough to work the spells, only enough to create sparks in the palm of her hand. It helped her concentrate. The ancient language was no longer a mystery to her. The words were clear, and she understood their meaning no matter what dialect they were in.

To learn magic is the same as learning anything else
, Nico’s voice guided her,
You need only open your whole self to it. Open your mind and let the words in. Their meaning will follow.

She immersed herself in her studies, allowing nothing else to distract her. She read the spells and repeated them to herself, letting her voice echo softly all around her. Once she knew she’d not forget one incantation, she moved on to the next one, and the next.

She shifted in her seat when it became uncomfortable; stood to walk back and forth. The words came faster and faster as she chanted with her eyes closed, her concentration absolute.

Then, all of a sudden, a strong wind whirled around her, raising her hair and making her cloak billow. Just as quickly, it was over. Nia opened her eyes to total darkness and sighed, listening for the sound of all her scrolls and parchments fluttering to the floor. But she couldn’t hear the rustle parchment. All she heard was the walls whispering in rushed words she couldn’t quite catch.

At the very least, their voices assured her she was still inside the castle. Scowling, she clicked her teeth together, trying to remember what incantation she’d been saying to make all the torches and candles go out.

It made no sense. Recalling the symbols in the scrolls, she tried to match them to the words she’d chanted. She couldn’t. The spell she’d chanted wasn’t the one she’d read. One small mistake in pronunciation and something like this happened. “Bah,” she whispered. This was precisely what she was trying to avoid!

Something stirred in the darkness, and she turned her head toward the sound. Had she conjured something else besides the wind?

It stirred again and this time, Nia was certain she heard cloth swishing.

“Who’s there?” a male voice demanded and Nia started. The man sparked a flame on one of the candles and brought it around to look at her. Without thinking Nia blew lightly and the candle across the room went out.

But it had been enough for her to see she was no longer in her study and for the man to catch a glimpse of her. She was in someone’s bedchamber!

“I wish Father had told me he was sending someone to me,” the man said, a grin in his voice. “I would have been better prepared.”

Nia drew back a step.
What?

He was moving again. He’d risen from bed and was coming toward her in the darkness. His step was somewhat unsure, but he seemed to know which way to go. Nia had no such advantage. She didn’t know where she was, or what was around her, and she didn’t dare conjure light. It would make it too easy for him to find her.

Closing her eyes, even though it was dark in the chamber, she tried to create an incantation to take her back. Nico had said something about reversal spells a fortnight ago, but she couldn’t remember his exact instructions. Frantic words slipped over her lips in a hushed whisper. A transportation spell needed words to be voiced, not thought. Nia needed a place to appear and a way to get there, and neither of those would help if she didn’t know where she was in the first place!

He must have followed her voice, for she suddenly sensed he was in front of her, so close her nose almost touched his chest. His breath stirred the hair at the top of her head and she could hear his heartbeat. Gasping, she took a step back, but encountered a wall. The contact threw her off balance. Nia began to tip to one side, her hands flailing for something to grasp on to.

The man caught her waist and turned her so she was trapped between the wall at her back and him.

“Release me,” she hissed, funneling a small thread of magic into her voice to charm his compliance. It didn’t work.

“My, aren’t you in a temper,” he said with a chuckle. “Not to worry, my girl, I’ll take good care of you.” As his lips brushed her temple, his hands slid up from her waist until they were level with her breasts.

Nia slapped his hands away and shoved as hard as she could at his chest. It didn’t make him fall back as she’d intended, but he did move to give her room. She sensed he only did it to humor her, which only frustrated her further. Anger made her magic boil, and she gritted her teeth to keep it contained. “Don’t touch me.”

Silence answered her. Nia felt the moment he sensed a threat like a charge in the air. His alarm, however muted, sparked her own, and she felt along the wall, moving sideways to get away from him while racking her brain for something to help her get out of here.

What came to her was nothing so structured as a spell. It was a sloppy invisibility cloak she’d used as a child. It never lasted long, and it took more magic and concentration than she’d had back then, but it was something. Reaching deep inside her, she called up her magic and drew darkness and silence around her.

Completely cloaked, she moved another step to the side and winced when her hand struck a rickety table. The water jug and wash basin on top of it rattled together and in a blink the man was in front of her again, caging her in. “If you aren’t here to warm my bed, girl, then why are you here?” His hand braced on the wall next to her head, but it was his other hand that worried her for in it he held a dagger which scraped along the stone wall, making her cringe. Her cloak dissipated.

“By mistake,” she said hoping the man didn’t decide to stab that dagger into her heart. Nia could hurt him if she needed to, she could even kill him if he forced her hand. Magic filled her palms, ready to be used, but caution kept her still.