The Mage of Trelian (27 page)

Meg looked at him. He was someone who knew about change, all right. He’d realized not that long ago that his entire life, or nearly so, had been based on a lie. That his own mother was deceiving him in order to get him to go along with her evil plans. He’d done some terrible things based on those lies. He’d lost everything and started over — not just in a new place, but as a prisoner, surrounded by people who hated and mistrusted him. And now . . .

“How do you do it?” she asked him finally. “How do you just go on, when your whole world has shattered around you? You seem . . . you seem almost content, and yet . . .”

“I am more than content,” he said. “I’m being given a chance to try to atone for my crimes, to live a better life than the one I was living before. The world that shattered was not one that I would ever wish to return to. It wasn’t even real.” His mouth twisted at this, and he plucked a few blades of grass before looking back up at her. “Now, for the first time, I’m certain that my actions are my own, that my goals are my own . . . that I’m living as my own person, not the pawn of another. I have food and shelter and all the comforts I could want, and I have a place here now, with the army. I’ve made friends; there are people I care about. . . .” He trailed off. “I have regrets, of course. For the terrible things I was a part of. For the terrible things I was willing to do. But I can’t be sorry that I’ve ended up where I am now.”

Which was very similar to what Calen had said, Meg thought.

He studied her for a moment. “But your world isn’t shattering, Princess. It’s coming back together. Your friend has returned; Kragnir’s forces are coming to join us . . .”

“But everything is different!” She sounded like a child, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “I know things change, that they
must
change, but I thought . . .” She sighed. “I suppose I thought that once Calen came back it would be . . . like before. But it can’t be. He’s different. I’m different. The world is different. We can never go back.”

“No,” Wilem said. “You can’t go back. But you can go forward. Sometimes forward is better. I think . . . I think most of the time it is.”

“They’ve asked me to fight full-time with the army for the duration of the war,” she said abruptly. “Starting tomorrow.”

He looked . . . not surprised, exactly. Thoughtful? “Will you do it?”

“Of course. It’s where I belong. I think everyone kept hoping the war would somehow just end on its own, and they wouldn’t have to put me in danger. But of course it didn’t, and then they did let me fight, and then I almost died. . . . I don’t think it was easy for my parents to agree to send me back out. But they understand that no place will ever really be safe if we don’t win this war. And we have the best chance of winning if Jakl and I are part of the fighting.”

Which suddenly reminded her forcibly of what had just happened in the dungeons. She sat up. “It’s even worse than we knew, Wilem. We just learned that Mage Krelig is conspiring with Lourin.”

“What?”

“It’s how they were able to get inside our walls. And that means . . . well, all kinds of things. Gods, I should go report in. The mages are telling my parents now.” She was a little ashamed of herself for coming here at all. But she’d been so thrown by the interrogation and then by Calen’s
strangeness.
“I just . . . I just needed a few minutes before facing up to everything again, I think.” She didn’t know if she was explaining to Wilem or to herself.

“I think you’re allowed to give yourself a few minutes now and then,” he said. “It’s why I come here, too. You can’t give your all to something else if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“That sounds very wise,” she said. “But it’s probably just what I want to believe right now.”

“Can’t it be both?” he asked, smiling.

Meg smiled back. “Maybe it can.”

They were quiet a moment, smiling at each other.

“I like your hair that way,” Wilem said.

“Oh,” Meg reached up to touch it. “I keep forgetting. I mean, thank you. It was — well, you saw.” She laughed before she could stop herself. “Pela was horrified.”

“That your hair had burned away, or that I saw it?”

“That you saw it. She took the burning in stride. It was the being seen in such disarray that she had trouble with. She was very embarrassed on my behalf.”

“Battle scars are nothing to be embarrassed about,” Wilem said seriously.

“I know. I feel the same way. It’s important to remember what we’ve been through, I think. What we’ve accomplished, and what we’ve survived.”

“Yes. Well said, Princess.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Will you not call me Meg? We’re both going to stay in Trelian for the foreseeable future, it seems. We’re fighting in the same army! You might as well call me by my name.”

“Are you certain? I didn’t wish to . . . I know, before, it was . . .”

“Things change,” Meg said. “I think . . . I think they’ve changed again.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. Thank you, Meg.”

She grinned at him. “You’re welcome, Wilem.”

Meg got back to her feet and headed toward the castle to find her parents. She looked back once and saw Wilem watching her as she walked away. He lifted his hand in a wave, and she waved back before she continued on. She thought she might have moved beyond not-hate with regard to Wilem. Moved on to . . . something else. She didn’t know what. Something far less cold and distant. Whatever it was, she couldn’t deny that she rather liked it.

And maybe that was okay.

Wilem was right. They couldn’t go back. But they could go forward.

And sometimes forward was better.

C
ALEN’S DAYS IN TRELIAN HAD FALLEN
into a strange and distorted reflection of the time he’d spent with Mage Krelig.

In the mornings, he had private lessons with Serek and Anders. Although in this case, he seemed to be the one doing most of the teaching. Or at least, they weren’t attempting to teach
him
anything. Mostly Calen just continued to demonstrate all the new things he could do.

And despite their assurances that they were not, the mages mostly just continued to seem rather horrified.

Even Anders, although he did have occasional moments of bright interest when he seemed to forget how horrified he was. “Face melting! I’ve never seen that,” Anders said when Calen described (but did not demonstrate) the terrible spell that Cheriyon had sent at him but ended up enduring himself. He did demonstrate a lot of the other spells, though. And the techniques — slowing down another mage’s spell or turning it back against its caster. Most of these things Anders and Serek could do perfectly well themselves, of course. They just weren’t prepared to see how easily Calen could do them.

They were still uneasy about the early-colors thing, too, he thought. He could see the early colors all the time now.

Calen still hadn’t told them very much about how Krelig conducted his lessons. He didn’t tell them about the various punishments — the burnings, the cutting, the slicing off of the tips of ears. He wasn’t sure why. Partly he just didn’t want to talk about it. He also didn’t like the idea of how they might react. He already felt somewhat . . .
tainted,
he supposed was the word. For how he’d learned what he’d learned. And from whom.

It doesn’t matter,
he tried to tell himself.
The important thing is that you learned so much. Enough to make a real difference.

He thought that was true. He just wished Serek and Anders could get past feeling horrified and start focusing on how they could use Calen’s abilities to fight Krelig.

He also wished, very much, that the other mages had spent more time learning and preparing while he’d been away. From what he’d seen so far, they were nowhere near ready.

And Krelig would surely be coming soon.

Now that they knew he was working with Lourin, that probably meant a physical attack as well as a magical one. Serek’s time had been divided between working with the mages and meeting with the king and the commander to discuss how the mages could help now that they knew other mages were involved in the war. That changed the rules, concerning what and how much the mages (the
good
mages) were allowed to do. Of course, since the group here had already set themselves up as separate from the Magistratum, Calen thought they could just make up their own rules, but he could see that Serek was trying to walk a careful line.

And Calen could see the sense in that, too, of course. They didn’t want to be like Krelig, abandoning all rules in order to achieve their ends. But he still thought Serek could stand to bend a few more.

Serek
had
taken charge, though, and the other mages were listening . . . but Calen was afraid many of them still didn’t understand how ruthless Krelig was. How he was teaching the other mages under his command to be just as ruthless. That they wouldn’t hold back. When the time came to fight, Krelig’s army wouldn’t be constrained by any rules or conventions or even morals. They would be driven by terror of Krelig and by the knowledge that, if they didn’t win, there would be nothing left for them afterward. They could never return to the Magistratum after joining forces with the enemy. There was no way the other mages could ever forgive them for what they’d done.

In the afternoons, when they joined the other mages for group practice — there were more of them now, a little over sixty, with others still on the way — Calen struggled to hold his tongue. They were so
slow.
And so polite. There seemed to be more time spent discussing whose turn it was to do what than actually casting spells. Finally Calen pulled Serek aside and told him how Krelig organized his group practices. “They’re ready for anything,” Calen said. “He’s made them ready for anything. And our side . . . they’re too
nice,
Serek. Can you get them to be less nice?”

Serek seemed to think this over. “Maybe,” he said at last. He strode to the center of the hall.

“Mages!” he said. “My apprentice thinks you’re all a little too soft to face Krelig’s army, based on what he’s seeing right now.”

Calen winced. He hadn’t wanted Serek to say
that
!

All the mages looked at him. They didn’t seem to appreciate the criticism.

“Calen and I are going to demonstrate the kind of practice Krelig is holding with his secret army,” Serek went on. “As a motivational exercise.” He beckoned Calen forward.

“Serek? I don’t —”

“Don’t use that face-melting spell,” Serek said under his breath. “But come at me full strength. Maybe we do need to wake these people up a little.”

They moved into the center of the room. Calen started with a fairly basic lightning spell. Serek blocked it effortlessly and raised an eyebrow at him.

All right, then.
Calen started again, this time sending a double-edged shock spell that flew out from both hands simultaneously and came at Serek from two different directions. Serek still blocked them, but he nodded at Calen encouragingly.
Better. Keep going.

Calen kept going. Serek began firing spells back at him. They circled each other, throwing spells and blocking and deflecting and shielding. Neither of them landed anything on the other, but everyone could feel the intensity of the magic energy, and they were all watching with full attention. After a while, Serek gestured to Anders, and then Calen was fighting both of them.

And holding his own.

Of course, he had the early-colors advantage, but he and Serek and Anders had agreed that that should probably stay a secret among just themselves, at least for the time being. And if it gave the others the idea that
all
Krelig’s mages would be just as fast . . . well, so much the better.

The others watched, all scornfulness and mistrust gone at this point. They were finally starting to see how Krelig had trained — was still training — his mages. Calen kept going, even when Serek brought another mage, and then another, into the circle to face him. It wasn’t until there were five of them that they finally began to get past his defenses. Even seeing the colors, even seeing them early, it was hard to keep track of what all five of them were doing at the same time. Serek finally hit him with a painful but brief spell that slammed him back against the wall and onto the floor.

“Enough,” Serek said, holding up a hand to stop the other mages, some of whom had seemed more than ready to continue casting things at Calen while he was down. They were all breathing hard, but they were also all very aware of the fact that it had been five against one. And that Calen had held out for a very long time.

“If every one of Krelig’s recruits is able to take on five of us at once, we’re in for a very difficult time out there,” Serek said. “We need to improve quickly. You must not underestimate your opponents in this battle. Krelig is the most dangerous by far, but the rest of his mages are apt to be a great deal more powerful than when they first left to join him.”

The truth of this finally seemed to be getting through to the others. Serek set them back to work and then asked Calen and Anders to follow him out. The other mages were going at each other a bit more seriously by the time they left. Calen was cautiously hopeful. It wasn’t enough, not yet, but at least it was a start.