Read The Innocent Mage Online

Authors: Karen Miller

Tags: #Magic, #Science Fiction, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Adventure, #Epic

The Innocent Mage (18 page)

Dathne felt her heart leap; in Veira’s thoughts, a discordant chiming of alarm. ‘Basingdown? You said that problem was behind us …”

Perhaps I spoke too soon. Stay within reach of you Stone, child. I will call you when I can.

Before she could reply, the connection was broken, Tk severance was so abrupt, the echo of Veira’s alarm so jangling, that behind her eyes pain bloomed like blood in water.

Dizzied, adrift, she bumped from wall to wall like a bird encaged, unable to settle, nerves thrumming. She didn’t know the exact nature of the Basingdown trouble any mote than she knew the name of the Circle members who lived there. Only Veira knew each individual of the group. It was safer that way.

But something terrible had happened, she knew that much: every instinct she possessed was shrieking and her stomach clenched and unclenched like a fist.

Just when she thought she must go mad with waiting her crystal flared, and from its heart pulsed a soft white light, Deep in her mind, the insistent tug of Veira’s thoughts to her own. Dathne flung herself to the living room carpet and feverishly sought the connection. Three heartbeats and she had it, hot and humming with alarm.

‘What is it? What’s happened?’

Calamity and woe, child. One of our number is revealed.

If she hadn’t already been on the floor she would have (alb. Struggling for air she pressed her palm against her chest. ‘Revealed? How? Veira, what happened?

The link between them vibrated wildly with the old woman’s distress. Four months ago Edv—

Shocked, Dathne interrupted. ‘No names, Veira!’

Peace, child. It matters little now.

Dathne smothered her rising fear. Never in all their long years of friendship had she heard Veira sound so defeated. So heartsick, or afraid. ‘Sorry. Go on.’

Edvord of Basingdown judged the time was ripe to bring his son Titnon into the Circle. Edvord has a canker. He is iying. He was afraid to leave it any longer lest his failing wits desert him before what is needful could be completed. Tmon is talented, but proud and impatient. Edvord told him he must wait, be guided, and so did I, but wise words fell on deaf ears. An hour ago Edvord’s son was taken by the Town Magisters for the illegal practisings of magic.

Dathne knuckled a moan back behind her teeth. ‘He was seen?’

Yes.

‘In Jervale’s name, what was he thinking? Veira, we’re undone!’

Veira rallied; through the link, Dathne could feel what it cost her. Perhaps not. He was caught attempting Doranen magic.

‘Doranen magic? Why? Wasn’t he told —’

Of course he was told, child! Did I not say Timon is proud and impatient? He refused to believe it is a song we cannot sing. He thought to prove his father wrong and be a hero.

Dathne swallowed a fresh rush of bile. Shut her eyes tight and willed her hands to stop shaking. ‘At least there’s something to be thankful for. If he’d been caught castitj Olken spells it would mean the end of everything.’

Yes.

She smashed a fist against the floor. ‘Barl’s tits.’

Edvord swears his son will die silent.

‘Edvord is hardly unbiased.’ Another rush of bile.’Tl Timon must be dealt with, Veira. If he should attempt I save himself by betraying us …’

He hasn’t yet. Besides, he is beyond our reach now. 1 magisters are taking him to the City as we speak. Tfce/l!|J there by sundown tomorrow. A rider has gone on abmi,\ alert the king.

‘And the prince. As Olken Administrator he’ll be i his pretty green eyes in all of this. Which means that i will be too.’

Through the link, Veira’s mind echoed with sorrow and I dread. Once news of this disaster spreads, the people oflA will bay for Timon’s blood like hounds in the hunting fiM He has broken cardinal law. It will mean an executioth How will that affect Asher, child? He is destined for magic.’

Dathne chewed her lip. ‘I… don’t know.’

You must find out, then. And you must repair damage caused by Timon of Basingdown. Should tk\ Innocent Mage refuse his destiny we are all of us doomed,

Dathne felt suffocated. Hailstones of fire … ‘What if I can’t repair it? What if Asher himself leads the baying pack?’

You are Jervale’s Heir. You must.

Just like that. The old woman made it sound as easy as j sewing a new button on a shirt. It wasn’t … but she had no’ choice. ‘I will. But Veira, there’s a more immediate danga to consider. You know what will happen now.’

Yes, child. I know.

The las,t breaking of cardinal law had been over a century before. Trial and execution a matter of one day’s examination and five minutes with the royal headsman … but the seeds of suspicion and mistrust sown that day had taken root to flower and poison the air with an ill-smelling perfume equal parts fear, anger and blame. The aftertaste had lingered for months, years, the lifetimes of those who had seen the head fall.

A repeat of those unfortunate days was the very last thing they needed. Doranen eyes, woken from trusting sleep, would be newly sharpened by this violation of cardinal law, would look twice and more than twice at every harmless Olken gesture, every blameless Olken gathering, every thoughtless Olken laugh. Even on a good day the Doranen were apt to be jealous of their magics… and the days ahead promised to be anything but good.

Worse still, the Olken of Lur would be twice as vigilant, twice as suspicious as the Doranen. Eager to prove their devotion to Barl, to the Law, to their own preservation, they’d report the smallest doubt to show the world they could be trusted. And in their midst the secret Circle … and Asher, the Innocent Mage.

Damn this wretched Timon of Basingdown and damn his dying father, too, for putting them all in danger, for risking the Circle and everyone in it and all that it meant for the future of Lur. What fools they were, like father like son, and did this now mean the end of all the Circle’s hopes and lans and painstaking sacrifices?

The end of Lur?

Reading her mind, perhaps, Veira spoke. There is yet ‘ope. Hopeless though things appear. This is not the first storm the Circle has weathered. And I have known Edvord ,...jer than you’ve been alive, child. If he says his son will kid true to his oath I believe him.

‘Well, you know him, Veira. And you know I trust your judgement,’ Dathne replied. ‘But if this fool does look like talking out of turn then I’m well placed to hear so. Asher is in the habit now of confiding most things to me. I swear I’ll pluck Timon’s wagging tongue from ^between his teeth before he can do us damage.’

Vengeance will not serve us, child.

Dathne took a deep, rib-creaking breath. Let it hiss oil again between her clenched teeth. ‘Our survival, Lufs survival, rests on the nerve of an idiot whose arroga recklessness has brought us to the brink of disaster.’ hang by a thread, Veira. At all costs, the damage mustk contained. Vengeance has nothing to do with it.’

Perhaps not. But anger does. Do not let it lead you astray.

‘Are you saying I have no right to be angry?’

Of course not. Nor should you think yourself alone ii your fury.

Which was true. Through the link, beneath the muffling pain for an old friend’s agony, she could feel Veira’s rage, Though frightening it also gave her a strange measure of comfort. Allowed her to step away from her own feeling and focus on what was most important.

‘We can’t allow this to distract us from our purpose, Veira. No matter the public outcry, the increased scrutiny, the fear and doubt this will rouse in the rest of the Circle,,, we must hold firm. Tonight’s vision was sent to me for a reason. It’s a warning, a harbinger of the evil yet to come, We ignore it at our peril and the ruin of every man, woman and child in this kingdom. Nothing can be allowed to sway us from the path upon which we toil, or failure and death are certain.’

You speak wisely, as befits the Heir ofjervale.

Dathne didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse, All she knew for certain was she could easily fold flat to the floor, crushed by the increased weight of her responsibilities, ‘As soon as I know anything, Veira, I’ll contact you so you can keep the Circle calm and focused. That must be out priority if we’re to survive the coming days.’

Indeed, child. I shall await your sending.

The connection between them broke. Exhausted, Dathne wrapped her Circle Stone once more and replaced it at the bottom of the blanket box. Though her empty belly was growling she had no heart for food. All she wanted now was sleep. Her mind and body cried out for it. Even Matt would have to wait; she’d tell him about Timon and his mad foolishness in the morning. There was nothing he could do about it tonight. Nothing he could do at all, so why worry him?

Stripping herself naked in her tiny bedroom, letting her skirt and blouse and stockings and underthings fall where they liked, she crawled between cool cotton sheets and closed her eyes. Her last conscious thought was a prayer:

Please, Jervale. Let me not dream.

CHAPTER
NINE

Asher stood in his underclothes and stockinged feet in front of his open wardrobe door, filled to the gills will the fine breakfast he’d shared with Gar in the Tower sola Washed and shaved and smelling faintly of spice, he stared at the clothes dangling from their hangers. What to weai, what to wear? Not the blue shirt or the black britches, since he’d worn them yesterday. The green was good, a sa colour, reminding him of home. But on the other hand tk bronze was a fine strong shade for a man. And it would go well with the chocolate-brown britches, snug and soft and cut to fit him like a second skin.

He’d never given much thought to clothes before, except as useful coverings for bare skin. Never considered himself much above average-looking. But now, buttoned up in his whispery silk shirt and his lined wool britches, stamping into shiny black boots that came right up to his knees, he thought he looked mighty fine. In fact, once he’d finished tugging his forelock to all the fancy lords in the Privy Council Chamber he just might wander down to town and see if there was some kind of book or other he could bring hisself to buy from Madam Hoity Toity the bookseller. Not that he wanted to spend any of his precious trins on books … but what other reason was there to j into Dathne’s bookshop?

A pity none of the weskits was ready yet. A fine brocade weskit would finish him off just perfect.

Downstairs, waiting for Gar in the Tower’s ground floor foyer, Asher winked at a scurrying chambermaid, what was her name again? Cluny? A blush tinted her cheeks, and he grinned. Oh yes indeed. Mighty fine.

‘And what do you think you’re doing, loitering about the place like a reprobate?’ a snippy voice demanded.

He turned. Darran, all sour lemons and spite, coming down the Tower’s spiral staircase. Experimenting, Asher discarded his first, instinctive response and smiled instead. ‘MorninY he said expansively. ‘As it happens, I be waitin’ for Gar. We’re off to see the Privy Council any tick.’ – Darran crossed the foyer’s gleaming tiled floor silently, like a cat who’s lost its collar and bell. ‘You are attending a Privy Council meeting?’

‘Seems so,’ said Asher with exaggerated cheer. In truth he felt as incredulous as Darran sounded, but he’d not be admitting that any time soon. Off to the Privy Council to hobnob with the king … could his strange life get any stranger?

Darran sniffed. T see.’ From the way his adam’s apple bobbed furiously in his scrawny throat it looked like Gar’s secretary wanted to say a lot more than that, and none of it complimentary. After a short, silent struggle the ole crow nodded. ‘Well. I’m sure you’ll find the experience educational. Have you ordered the carriage?’

‘Carriage?’ echoed Asher. ‘To go from here to the palace? Why would we be wantin’ a carriage? Our legs ain’t broke. We’ll walk.’

Darran’s lips curved in a thin smile. ‘Oh dear. You do have a lot to learn, don’t you? His Highness does not walk to official duties. He travels in a manner commensurate with his position.’ Crossing to a marble-topped display table he picked up a small shiny hand-bell and tinkled it sharply. ‘If you can’t arrange even this small matter without supervision, I don’t imagine) be remaining as His Highness’s assistant anything! long. Observe.’

Seething, Asher watched as a young boy dressed in [ and green livery darted out of an adjacent room, skidded! a halt before Darran and bowed. ‘Sir?’ he piped.

His Highness shall be leaving the premises shorii, Kindly repair to the stables and —’

‘No, don’t bother,’ Gar called out as he descended till staircase. ‘Off you go, Remy. I won’t be needing a carmgi this morning.’

The lad Remy bowed again and scuttled back into | messenger-boy bolthole. Scandalised, Darran turned to ( prince, offered a punctiYiousVy correct bow of his own a protested. ‘No carriage? But, Your Highness —’

Gar had changed from his casual breakfast attire oil shirt, loose trousers and bare feet into a gold-beaded tuniti of stiffened dark green brocade, dull black silk britches anil black leather half-boots. His hair was caught back fromkis face in some kind of gold and green enamel clasp, and a gold and emerald circlet bound his brow. To Asher’s eyes be had the air of a man preparing to ride into battle. That wasn’t a good sign …

Smiling, the prince touched one hand lightly to Damn’s shoulder. ‘It’s a fine morning for a walk. Besides, after the copious amount of bacon Asher ate for breakfast he i the exercise.’

Ha. Very funny. But then so was the look on olc Darran’s face.

‘I see, sir,’ Darran said limply. ‘You know your own mind, of course. Shall I send a carriage to fetch you then, once your business at the palace is concluded?’

‘Let’s see, shall we? If I want one I’ll let you know.’ Darran bowed. ‘Certainly, sir. You can send Asher with’ a message.’ ,

Asher held his tongue, just. Gar sent him a sidelong

:, brimful of repressed hilarity. ‘I might just do that, an. Now don’t \et me ketp ^o\x feova yow: business.’

In other words, buzz off. Asher sent the secretary on his way with a wide, wide smile, and was rewarded with a venomous flash “of temper, swiftly smothered.

Tknow, he really don’t like me at all,’ he said happily. , ‘But I don’t mind. I don’t like him neither. Starin’ down his [snooty nose at me just ‘cause I ain’t all flash and folderol.’

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