The Mage of Trelian (26 page)

They made their way down to the dungeons, and a guard led them back to where the Lourin soldiers were locked away.

There were three of them. One looked surly, one looked terrified, and the other was asleep. The surly one smirked as the guard opened the door.

“Back again? Think you’ll get anything this time?” He looked at Calen and Meg. “Odd choice of reinforcements you’ve got there.”

“Quiet,” the guard said mildly. “Unless you need a reminder of what happens when you annoy me.”

There was a painful-looking purple bruise on the surly one’s face. He didn’t say anything else, but kicked his sleeping companion awake a little harder than he probably had to. The terrified one just kept right on looking terrified.

“We thought we’d give you another chance to earn some better accommodations,” Anders said.

“Good luck,” the newly awakened one muttered. He sat up against the wall, grimacing with the motion. Meg saw that one trouser leg was torn away to make room for a splint that was bound to his leg from the thigh down.

“I told you — I tried —” the terrified one began, but didn’t finish.

Surly slugged him. “Shut
up,
coward.” he said.

“
Not
a coward,” Terrified said resentfully. “I just . . .” But he trailed off, shaking his head.

Calen was watching them intently. Serek and Anders were watching Calen. Surly seemed to take this in and decide it wasn’t something he liked.

“Maybe you should let the pretty girl question us,” he said, leering at Meg. “I’ve got some things I wouldn’t mind saying to her.”

Meg recoiled, but before she could think of something to say, or decide whether she should say anything at all, the guard stepped forward and backhanded Surly across the face. His voice was still mild as milk. “You will be respectful,” he said, “or you will be silent. Or,” he added after a second, watching Surly wipe his bloody mouth with his sleeve, “you will be sorry.”

“Stop,” Calen said.

The guard stepped back again, and everyone waited.

“They’re definitely under a spell that prevents them from talking,” Calen said. “But it’s more than that.”

“How much can you see?” Serek asked.

Calen shook his head. “There are . . . layers. This is very complex.” He looked at Serek and Anders. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“Can you remove it?” Anders asked.

“Oh, yes,” Calen said, almost offhandedly. He turned back to look at the prisoners again, and so he missed the look that passed between Serek and Anders. Meg frowned. She didn’t like how unhappy they still seemed to be about his new knowledge. This was what they wanted, wasn’t it? It wasn’t fair to bring him here to help and then be unhappy that he could!

“I just wish I could see the other layers as clearly,” Calen went on. “Well, maybe I’ll be able to see more as I go.”

He focused on the terrified soldier, who instantly became even more terrified. “What are you going to do?” the man asked, trying to back farther away, even though he was already at the far wall of the cell.

“I won’t hurt you,” Calen said. “Just hold still.”

He held up one hand, palm out, fingers spread wide. From Serek’s and Anders’s reactions, he must have started doing some kind of magic, but of course Meg couldn’t see anything. Anders’s eyebrows kept rising farther up on his forehead. Serek just looked . . . more grim. Meg wanted to kick him. But she knew better than to interrupt.

After a moment, the terrified soldier blinked and looked at Calen in amazement. “You did it!” he said. “I can talk now. I —”

“Wait,” Calen said. “Don’t try to talk yet.”

“No,” the man went on excitedly, “you did it; I can tell you — please, I just want to get out of here.”

“Wait!” Calen said, more urgently. “It’s not —”

The man came forward, still talking. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “Your soldiers, I mean. We had help, we —”

He abruptly cut off, eyes wide.

“No, curse you! I said . . .
argh
!” Calen put his other hand out and seemed to be trying to — to
something.
. . . Meg had no idea what, of course. All this invisible magic was very confusing!

“Calen, what —?” Serek began.

“Oh,” Anders said quietly. “That’s not good.”

“No, no, no,” Calen said, still holding his hands out. “Don’t . . .”

The prisoner burst into flames.

Meg screamed and flung herself backward, away from the cell.
Oh, gods, the fire . . .

She fought for control of herself. Jakl was reaching toward her, concerned, and her first thought was to calm him so he didn’t try to come in there after her.
I’m fine,
she told him.
I’m fine, really. Just — just startled.
That was an understatement. She realized that she was on the ground when the guard knelt down beside her.

“Are you all right, Princess?”

“Yes,” she said shakily. “That was . . . just unexpected.” That wasn’t all, of course. She was mortified that she’d screamed that way, but the sight and heat of the flames had made her feel as though she were back in the middle of the battle, not just remembering but actually
there,
about to be burned, about to fall, about to go through all of it all over again. She made herself take a deep breath and try to at least
act
composed as she let him help her back to her feet. “Thank you.”

Someone had already put out the flames. The other two prisoners were wedged against opposite sides of the cell, staring in horror at the blackened body of their former companion.

“I
told
him to
wait,
” Calen was saying. He looked at Serek desperately. “Serek, I didn’t mean to let —”

“It’s not your fault,” Anders said. “I could sense what was in there.”

“Not his fault!” Surly cried, even surlier than before. “He killed him!”

“No,” Calen said. “That wasn’t me.”

“What
happened
?” Meg asked.

Calen swallowed. “I think . . . I think I shouldn’t say anything yet. Except that there was a sort of — trip wire. Under the silence spell.” He sighed. “At least now we know what it does, I guess.”

He turned back to the cell, hesitated, then focused on the injured soldier.

“No!” the man cried. “Not me!”

“I won’t hurt you,” Calen said.

“That’s what you told Jenner!” he yelled, indicating the corpse. “Don’t you touch me!”

Calen smiled a strange, cold smile. “I don’t have to touch you. Just hold still.”

The man started shaking his head vigorously. “I will
not,
you’re not going to —”

He stopped abruptly, and Meg gasped and tried to brace herself for more fire; she didn’t want to embarrass herself again . . . but this seemed to be something else.

“Uh, Calen . . .” Serek said.

“I’m just holding him still,” Calen said, his eyes still on the prisoner. “You keep an eye on the other one.”

Anders shot a glance at Surly, who abruptly became very still as well. Then Anders went back to watching Calen, clearly fascinated and not wanting to miss a second of whatever he was doing.

“Now,” Calen said to the man, whose eyes stared back at him in terror from his motionless face, “I won’t let you move until I’m finished, but just to be safe, don’t even think about telling me anything. Think about . . . I don’t know, anything else. Think about how much you’d like to kill me right now. Or about cabbages. Or whatever you like. Just don’t think about anything related to how you got here.”

Then he slowly raised his hand again. Meg held her breath. She thought Serek and Anders were holding theirs, too. The prisoner still seemed to be breathing, she was relieved to see, but was otherwise completely frozen in place.

After several minutes, Calen stepped back. He looked at Anders, who Meg was starting to guess was better than Serek at sensing magic. “Do you sense anything else at work?”

“No,” Anders said. He looked at Serek, but Serek just shook his head.

“All right, then,” Calen said. Meg didn’t see him do anything, but the prisoner suddenly sank back against the wall with a strangled breath that sounded more like a sob.

“Please,” the man said. “Please, I don’t want that to happen to me.”

“It won’t,” Calen said. “You’re free to talk now.”

The man looked at Surly, who glared at him but still seemed to be held in place by Anders’s spell. Then he seemed to come to a decision.

“It’s like Jenner started to tell you. We had . . . help.” He paused, and when nothing happened, went on. “Said he was Lourin’s new mage, and he had those marks you all wear, so I guess he was. Anyway, our captain seemed to know all about it. The mage did something to your guards before the shift change, and let us pass through the gate like we were invisible. We just walked right in behind your own men.”

“We would have known if he cast something through our wards,” Serek said, “but not if he cast something on the guards outside, and then . . .” He shook his head in apparent disgust.

“It won’t work again, at least,” Anders said. “Not now that we know.”

Serek gave him a look that seemed to suggest that this was little comfort, but didn’t say anything else.

“But I thought Lourin didn’t have a new mage,” Meg said.

“I guess they have one now,” Anders said. “But I can’t imagine that the Magistratum would have assigned anyone to a new post, under the current circumstances. . . .”

Calen looked at the prisoner again. “Can you tell us anything else about what the mage looked like? Did he mention his name?”

The man thought a minute, then said, “Young, not especially tall . . . light yellow hair. One of his tattoos made him look like he had cat’s whiskers on one side of his face.” He looked at them, seeming slightly embarrassed. “I only remember that because some of the men were laughing about it. He never said his name, but Captain called him . . . something. . . .” They waited, letting him try to remember. “Sorrel? Something like that?”

“Scoral,” Calen said. It wasn’t really a question.

“Yeah! That was it, I think.”

Calen looked sick. He turned to Anders and Serek. “He’s one of Krelig’s.”

“Are you certain?” Serek asked. He looked a little sick himself.

Calen nodded. “He was there. One of the first to arrive, in fact.” He added after a moment, “He does kind of look like he has whiskers.”

Meg stared around at all of them. “What are you saying? Are you saying . . . are you saying that
Mage Krelig
helped them get inside? That he’s in league with Lourin?”

“I swear I didn’t know anything about this,” Calen said. “He never mentioned anything to me.”

“Well, of course not,” she said, but she didn’t like the way Serek hesitated before nodding.

Neither did Calen, apparently. “Do you really think I would have kept that information to myself?” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “What do I have to do to prove to you that
I’m not on his side
?”

“Nothing,” Serek said, holding up a placating hand. “I know you’re not on his side, Calen. I’m just . . . I guess I’m just still adjusting. To — to everything.”

“Well,
hurry up,
” Calen snarled. “We don’t have time for you to keep adjusting. He’s coming, soon, and we have to be ready. And we can’t be ready if you still don’t trust me.”

Then he turned and walked out.

Meg glared at Serek, who sighed. “Go on,” he said. “Anders and I will take this news to the king.”

She started to go, then turned back and spoke to the guard. “See that the one who talked is moved to the upper level before Mage Anders releases his companion,” she said quietly. Then she ran to catch up with Calen.

She found him on the path leading away from the dungeon doors.

“Hey,” she said when she got close. He didn’t stop walking.

“Hey,”
she said, closing the distance and grabbing his arm. “Don’t you do that. Not to me.”
Not ever again.

He stopped, but he didn’t look at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not mad at you, of course. I’m not even mad at Serek, really. I — I don’t know who I’m mad at.”

“Krelig,” Meg said at once.

He shook his head. “Not . . . exactly. I mean, I
hate
him, but that’s different. I can’t regret what happened, Meg. If I hadn’t gone, if I hadn’t learned all that I have, I don’t think we’d have even a chance of defeating him.” He raised his gaze to meet hers, and she had to fight the urge to step back from him. His eyes were hard and . . . closed, somehow. He looked like a stranger. The Calen she knew, his eyes had been like open windows to the person he was inside. These eyes belonged to someone else. Someone she didn’t know at all.

“I just need some time alone right now,” he said. He was looking at her strangely, and she didn’t know if he could tell what she’d been thinking or was just distracted by his own secret thoughts that she no longer knew anything about. “I’ll see you later, Meg.”

He pulled his arm gently from her grasp, and this time she let him go.

Without really thinking about it, Meg headed back to the gardens and that quiet corner near the stone wall. But she wasn’t really surprised to find herself there when she arrived.

And she wasn’t really surprised to see Wilem sitting beneath the tree near the wall, either.

“Princess!” he said, getting to his feet. He looked at her in amazement. “Pela told me you’d been healed . . . but this is incredible.”

She’d almost forgotten. “Yes,” she said. “Calen . . . learned a lot while he was away.”

Wilem seemed on the verge of leaving, but didn’t. Meg sat down against the wall and waited to see what he would do.

He hesitated a few more seconds, then returned to his place under the tree.

“Calen has certainly become very skilled,” he said after a moment.

“Yes,” Meg said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ah. Sorry.”

She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. “No,
I’m
sorry. I don’t know what I want to talk about, I guess. Calen’s new ability . . . it’s — it’s a good thing, of course. It just takes a little getting used to.”

“Lots of changes are like that.”