True Magics (17 page)

Eileen and Claudine took one couch, with Henry and Thomas flanking them in chairs on either end. Malcolm took the other couch and beamed at them all.

“Let me once more apologize for those three young men yesterday morning.” Malcolm said. “Had I known they were going to behave that way I would have never led them to the beach.”

“My father told me about their manners,” said Claudine. “I cannot believe they would spoil the Festival like that. Do you not have the same rules for it in the north?”

“The Festival of Rains isn’t celebrated in Frostmire,” said Henry to Claudine. “At this point there are still two months of winter. Calling for rain is viewed as wishful thinking.”

Claudine smiled at him. “Too bad. It works.”

Henry smiled back. “Now, do you really believe that?”

“It does seem to work,” said Malcolm, gesturing out the windows. “For we certainly are getting the rain, despite yesterday’s sun.”

“We are in a port town,” said Henry. “Rain is its natural state.”

Malcolm smiled. “But still, one must think that the will of all those people must account for something.”

“Not really, no.”

“I take it you do think that,” said Thomas, resisting the urge to kick Henry.

Malcolm smiled. “It is clear that the will of man may cause change in the natural order of things. Look at your experiences in Frostmire. Surely what you saw there was not what one could call a natural occurrence.”

“A son killing his father for his money and power?” said Henry, his voice neutral. “Happens all the time.”

“The magic, Lord Henry,” said Malcolm. “Surely you must admit that was not of nature as we know it.”

“We did see things we have never seen before,” Thomas said. “That doesn’t mean they’re not natural.”

“Was there really magic?” Claudine asked Eileen. “Did you see it?”

Eileen looked uncertain of how to answer. Thomas spoke up instead. “There was magic there and yes, Eileen saw it.”

Claudine’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“We saw men using stone rods that threw fire, and wood rods that made fog,” said Thomas. “And a man who drained the energy from my body to fuel their magic.”

“Oh, no!” Claudine looked shocked. “Did it hurt?”

“It just made me feel weak,” said Thomas, “as if I’d been struck ill.”

“Amazing.” Malcolm leaned back in his chair. “And what of the lightning?”

“What of the lightning?” Thomas repeated.

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed. “The lords said that the captain of the Student Company fought the fire of the raiders by shooting lightning from his fingers.”

“The lords were not present at any of the battles,” said Thomas. “So their accounts are suspect.”

“Even so,” Malcolm leaned closer, “they said that in the street battles, the Church’s troops and the students were ambushed by raiders who threw fire. And that the students killed both magicians with lightning.”

“Actually, one of them was thrown out a window,” said Henry. “By Eileen’s brother, Sir George, in fact.”

“Really?” Claudine was practically breathless with the thought of it.

“Really,” said Eileen. She shuddered. “Thomas had to go in and get George out.”

“What of the other magician?” asked Malcolm. “What happened to him?”

“He died,” said Thomas.

Malcolm leaned back in his chair. “You are afraid to speak plainly,” he said. “I understand. There are certainly forces working against magic in the world. But there all also forces working for it.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I’m sure you know who she is?”

Thomas looked up at the ceiling. “It looks like the Blessed Daughter,” Thomas said. “Giver of music, dance, and love.”

“And magic.”

Now Thomas was the one to lean forward with interest. “I have heard that before.”

“Of course you have,” Malcolm’s eyes lit up. “It’s uncommon knowledge, but some of us know the truth.”

“And which some would those be?” asked Thomas.

“Those who know that there are things beyond what is taught at the Academy or in the churches of the High Father. Those who see things as they truly are.”

“You’re talking in riddles,” said Henry.

“One tends to do that, when one talks of magic,” said Malcolm, smiling. “Tonight, after the party, there is a special ceremony to the Blessed Daughter. Will you stay?”

“Of course,” said Thomas.

“Then let’s return to the party.” Malcolm smiled. “I, for one, am not done dancing.”

9

They had two more hours of dancing and conversation before the midnight bell sounded and guests began to leave. Malcolm and his wife saw them out, thanking them for coming. Thomas and Henry had their hands shaken by many young men, and Eileen was hugged and had her cheek kissed by many of the girls. The merchants and their wives and families headed out into the night, leaving only fifteen people in the room. Most were older, though there was a pair of young men—twins by the look of them—that stayed behind. Those two were watching Henry, who had Claudine on his arm, with a fair amount of suspicion.

“It is time,” said Malcolm. “Let us take ourselves to the chamber.”

There was a murmured agreement. Malcolm took the small group out the courtyard door, past the kitchen which still had wonderful smells wafting out of it and into the building on the other side. He led them upstairs to a smaller, sparsely furnished chamber. There were benches here, and a small, covered table in the front. The walls were decorated with murals of the forest, and against the far wall, an image of the Daughter smiled down at them. The guests took the benches and Malcolm went to the front to stand beside the table. Claudine sat herself down beside Eileen in the back, and Thomas and Henry took places on either side of the girls.

Malcolm smiled at the group and said, “Let me begin by thanking our guests. I hope that the party was pleasant, and I am deeply grateful that they joined us for this, our true purpose tonight.”

The small group applauded lightly. Malcolm let it die down and continued, “Tonight, we mark the true end of the Festival of the Rains. For tonight is the night when the Blessed Daughter began to weep.

“It is said that the Great Mother was angered at how badly the people were using her creations. They would kill when there was no need, they would waste what they did not use immediately. For in those times there was always plenty and never hunger.

“And so the Mother called down the first snowfall. It blanketed the earth. The animals hid and the plants slept and food became scarce. Man, who was not ready for the winter, tried as best he could to survive, but he began starving, and many died.

“It was then that the Blessed Daughter came down to visit. She saw how unhappy man was. How miserable, bitterly cold, and how close to ruin he was. The sight of it made her weep. For a month she cried, and her tears washed away the snow, and the Mother relented and the summer returned. But, so man would not forget, every year the Mother makes winter return, and every spring, the Daughter weeps for us all.

“This winter, for the first time in two hundred years, we have proof that she has not wept in vain.”

Malcolm Bright smiled at Thomas. “For the first time in nearly two hundred years, we have heard of Great Magic coming back into the world. We have heard of invaders that throw fog and fire, and of a friend whose lightning defended a northern duchy and drove off the invaders.”

He held out his hand to Thomas. “Please, step forward, Thomas Flarety, Captain of the Student Company, and tell us what you saw and what you did in Frostmire.”

“Now what?” asked Henry, his voice quiet.

“Now, I talk,” muttered Thomas, rising from the bench.

“Better talk really fast.”

Malcolm Bright took a spot on the front bench, and with the others, waited in what Thomas was sure was near-breathless anticipation.

Thomas reached the front and took a deep breath, unsure of where to start. He turned and looked over the small crowd. Claudine’s eyes were wide, and the entire congregation seemed to be holding its breath in hope.

The king said I couldn’t tell anyone about my magic. He didn’t say anything about magic in general.
“There is magic in this world. True magic.” The small party practically bubbled with excitement. Whispers of “I knew it!” and “I told you!” went through the little room. Thomas waited until it quieted. “I have seen it. My friends have seen it. We have seen Great Magic, as Merchant Bright called it. It was created by stealing the magic of others, and used to cause harm and destruction.” Several people in the room looked dismayed at that. Others looked downright angry.

“We have seen small magics as well,” Thomas continued. “A person whose touch can heal; another who could make a ball of light appear. These small magics were not evil. They were not used to hurt or destroy. Rather, they were gifts.”

“Gifts of the Daughter,” said Malcolm, smiling now.

“Gifts,” repeated Thomas, hoping Malcolm thought he was agreeing. “Gifts that should be nourished and cherished. Not falsely called witchcraft or declared evil by those who have no understanding of them. Nor stolen by those who want them for no other purpose than to gain power.”

“Gifts should be shared,” said Malcolm, rising to his feet. “Especially the gifts of the Daughter. Thomas, will you share your gifts with us?”

What?
“I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your magic. Can you share your magic as the Blessed Daughter intended?”

“Uhhh…” Thomas looked back to Eileen and Henry. Eileen looked as confused as Thomas felt and Henry was looking speculative. “How does one do that?” Thomas asked. “How do you share magic?”

“It is in the Daughter’s teachings,” said Malcolm.

“Is it?” Thomas’s ears perked up.

“It is,” said Malcolm, his always-ready smile growing wide on his face. “All can partake of the Daughter’s gifts, though the sharing. So I ask you again: will you share your gift with us?”

Thomas looked at the fifteen eager faces in the room. Claudine was practically bouncing in her chair. The others were looking on expectantly.

And I have to disappoint them.
“I don’t know you,” said Thomas, trying to make his voice as gentle as he could. “I don’t know any of you by name, save Malcolm and his family, and they I know only from tonight. I don’t know who any of you are, what you do, or whom you serve. I don’t even know if you are all true believers in the Daughter, or if one or two or all of you are working for the Bishop of the High Father.” He paused for a moment, watching the accusation sink in. Everyone in the room looked outraged.

Of course, an agent of the Church would be perfectly capable of looking outraged, too.

Malcolm’s smile almost masked his disappointment. He spread his hands. “Then we have a problem,” he said. “Is it an insurmountable one?”

He really wants this.
“I don’t know,” said Thomas. “It requires some thinking.”

“Then let us call an end of discussions for now,” said Malcolm. He turned to his congregation. “I will ask all of you to respect Thomas’s wishes, and not enquire further tonight. Let us instead complete our rituals, in which all are welcome to partake,” he nodded toward Henry and Eileen, then to Thomas. “Please, be seated.”

Thomas went to the back and sat with his friends and Malcolm took the front. Malcolm led the group in a prayer to the Daughter, asking for her to bring in the coming spring. He sprinkled water on each person’s head, as a reminder of the daughter’s tears, shed for them all. Then he led the small congregation in a song whose lyrics Thomas had never heard before, but whose rhythm and tune was the same as one of the High Father’s hymns. All the while Thomas could see the many glances shot his direction. None of them were friendly, though only one or two seemed outright hostile.

At last, Malcolm drew the service to a close with, “May the Daughter’s blessings be upon us, her eyes watch over us, her arms protect us, and her heart guide us. Let us rejoice and leave this place.”

He led them out and back down to the banquet hall, where the buffet had been refreshed.

“Please,” he said. “Eat, relax, and enjoy. I shall return momentarily.”

The members of the congregation nodded and thanked Malcolm. Then they went to the buffet without a word to Thomas, Henry or Eileen.

“Now what?” asked Eileen.

“Watch and wait,” said Thomas. “See if anyone else reveals something.”

Claudine turned back from the line to the buffet and swept over to Eileen. “I wanted to say that I
really
have enjoyed talking to you this evening.”

Eileen blinked in surprise. “Thank you.”

“Would it be all right for me to call on you sometime? I think we could be friends, and it would be wonderful to have someone to share books with.”

“Yes,” said Eileen, smiling. “I think I’d like that.”

“May I borrow Thomas for just a moment?” Claudine asked. “I want to speak to him privately. And we’ll only be over there,” she pointed at a pillar on the far side of the room. “Do you mind?”