The Princess of Trelian (18 page)

“Or three at a time,” Anders said agreeably.

Serek finished his cookie and brushed some crumbs off onto the grass. “You know from the meeting that Mage Brevera thinks that you present a danger to the Magistratum. He also thinks you helped to cause that attack at your marking ceremony, but that, of course, is ludicrous. In any case, he and the others have been trying to determine exactly what kind of danger you pose and how it might be averted before it’s too late. He had also suggested taking some rather drastic measures to attempt to nullify this alleged danger even if they couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.”

Calen didn’t like the sound of the word
nullify
in this context. He was afraid to ask exactly what that meant.

“Others, including me,” Serek went on, “believe that you are involved in the danger in some way but not as the cause. It’s a matter of interpretation.”

“I’m still on the fence,” Anders said.

Calen frowned at him.

“Well, it’s the truth,” Anders said, seemingly unruffled. “But even if you are the cause of the danger, I don’t agree with the idea that you should be locked up or —”

Serek cleared his throat.

“Or, uh, anything like that,” Anders finished. “If we went around taking drastic action on every single evil omen some fool mage thought he saw foretold in a deck of cards, we’d never get anything else done.”

“I think you came just in time,” Calen said. “Mage Brevera was getting angry. He said — he asked me how long I’d been in contact with Mage Krelig. He thinks I’m working with him somehow! He seemed about to . . . about to do something. Thomil was trying to get him to wait.”

“Ah,” said Anders. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?” Calen asked.

Serek answered. “When I realized Brevera and the others were blocking us from communicating — I had tried to reach you with a summoning spell, to make sure you were all right — well, that was sufficiently ominous that I decided to go to the council masters and demand that you be released. But Anders thought . . . um . . .”

“Oh, just tell him,” Anders said.

Serek raised his eyebrows at Anders, and the older mage nodded in confirmation. Serek shrugged and said, “Anders, ah . . . sees things. Every once in a while.”

“Sees things? Like things that aren’t there?” Calen asked. This would not actually surprise him.

“Sort of,” Anders said. “But not the way you mean. I see things that are going to happen. Sometimes.”

“Like prophecies? You have the Sight? Like Mage Krelig does?”

“To a degree. I don’t get them too often, although lately they’ve been coming a bit more frequently than I’m used to. And they’re usually more about current events, or the very near future, than about far-reaching, prophecy-type things. I’ve always thought of them as glimmers. Little glimpses of the future. Or of possible futures, I should say. Often there’s some choice to be made, and I can see glimmers of both possible outcomes of a given decision.”

“And you had one about me?”

“I had one that suggested we should go and retrieve you at once, without trying to get the council’s approval.”

“Did you — did you see what Mage Brevera was planning to do to me?”

“I saw enough that I knew we should get you out of there before he got to do it. Luckily, Serek knows about the glimmers and trusts them, as I do.”

“But the other mages don’t know, do they?” Calen asked, looking back and forth between Serek and Anders. “That’s why you had to give Serek permission to tell me. It’s a secret.”

“It’s . . . just something it seemed better not to advertise. For many reasons. So I will thank you to keep this information to yourself,” Anders said. “Assuming, of course, that we live long enough for it to matter. Depending on who catches up with us first, we may find ourselves the victims of some mysterious accident before we can be brought back to the Magistratum for questioning.”

“Yes,” Serek said, rising. “We should get moving.”

“But — but why couldn’t we just go to the council and tell them what happened?” Calen hurried after Serek toward the horses. “Why did we have to run away?”

“Because,” Serek said, “we have no proof other than Anders’s vision, which is a secret, and your own testimony, which Mage Brevera and the others would no doubt deny. And Anders’s vision also suggested that we might be best served by leaving the Magistratum for the time being. Your part in all of this is very controversial, Calen, and if we stayed, even the council might have seen fit to keep you confined until they felt they knew more about what was happening. There were . . . several meetings while you were being investigated, and there were many conflicting opinions on what was to be done about you. I thought it was best to look into matters on our own. It’s my hope that we’ll come up with something concrete we can bring back to the council and convince them of some other course of action.”

“How will we do that?”

Serek and Anders stopped walking and exchanged another look. “I . . . do not think that is something we should discuss with you,” Serek said.

“But . . . you said you don’t believe what Brevera does, about me being a danger —”

“No,” Serek said. “I said I don’t believe you’re the cause of the danger, but I cannot doubt that you are going to be involved. Some of the fortellings were very specific, Calen. Which makes me think it is best
not
to involve you in our efforts to sort this out. I am also suspending your lessons for the time being.”

Calen stared at him. “Suspending . . . but
why
? That makes no sense at all! Shouldn’t you finally be teaching me to defend myself if I’m going to be involved in some kind of danger? This doesn’t seem like the time to
stop
teaching me!”

Calen expected Serek to be angry at the outburst, but his master only shook his head. “I am sorry, Calen. We can’t know how you are going to be involved. If you are somehow . . . compromised, your knowledge could be used against us.”

“Compromised?”

“He means —” Anders began.

“I know what he means,” Calen said. “I just can’t believe he would think that I would ever, ever help Mage Krelig.”

“Not willingly, perhaps,” Anders said. “But Mage Krelig is more powerful than you can imagine, Calen. He might be able to . . .” He trailed off, a strange expression on his face. He was looking past Calen, up at the sky.

Serek and Calen both turned to look.

An enormous shape was flying straight at them. It was dark, and fast moving, and very large.

Serek dropped his empty plate, red energy building at once between his palms. This seemed to jolt Anders back to himself as well, and he started casting something of his own, red and orange together.

“Wait,” Calen said suddenly.

“Move aside, Calen,” Anders said. “Go farther back into the trees, but don’t run.”

“Wait,” Calen said again. “I think —”

He saw Anders preparing to strike and reached out abruptly, pushing the mage off balance. He saw the spell dissipate with relief.

“Hey!” Anders said, whirling to face him and showing the first hint of real anger Calen had seen. “Don’t
ever
—”

“It’s all right, Anders,” Serek said, releasing his own half-formed spell.

“It is not all right!” Anders objected. “It is most certainly —”

“You were about to cast at an ally,” Serek said.

“I — what?”

Calen didn’t stay to hear the rest of Serek’s explanation. He ran forward, waving his arms. “Jakl!” he cried. “Jakl, here! What is it? What’s wrong?” Because something must be wrong. Something must be very, very wrong.

What was Jakl doing all the way out here — without Meg?

C
ALEN STOOD THERE WAVING HIS ARMS
like an idiot, wondering why Jakl hadn’t landed already. Then he realized he was probably standing in the only possible spot where Jakl could touch down, and he moved back hastily. Jakl landed at once, narrowly missing the trees on one side and actually breaking a few branches on the other.

Calen ran forward again immediately. “What is it? What’s wrong? Where’s Meg?”

Jakl just looked at him.

“I’m guessing the dragon hasn’t learned to speak since we saw him last,” Serek said, coming up beside Calen. Anders was a step or two behind, looking a bit unnerved.

Calen shot his master an irritated glance. “This is not the time to be sarcastic!” he said. “Something must be really wrong.” He turned back to the dragon, searching for signs of . . . he didn’t know exactly. A recent fight? A clue? A note from Meg strapped to his back?

Jakl flattened himself farther down on the ground. That message seemed pretty clear. Calen started to climb up.

Two pairs of arms pulled him right back down.

Calen rounded on the mages angrily. Serek put up his hands in a placating gesture. “Calen, just wait for a second. Let’s think about this.”

“There’s nothing to think about! Meg must be in trouble. I have to go help her. Right now.” He swallowed and looked at Anders apologetically. “I’m sorry about pushing you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No,” Anders said. “You should not have. It’s incredibly dangerous to interfere with another mage’s spell in progress. But I understand why you did.”

“I really didn’t even have to,” Calen admitted. “I forgot. Dragons are pretty much immune to magic. You couldn’t really have hurt him.”

Anders looked somewhat skeptical at this but said nothing. Calen decided that Serek could be the one to explain. He needed to get going.

“Calen,” Serek said again.

“What?” Calen said impatiently. At Serek’s darkening expression, he made himself take a breath and added, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. But Meg . . .”

Serek nodded. “Yes, I know. But we need to be smart about this. At the very least, Anders and I should go with you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Anders said, turning to look at Serek.

“We need to get ahead of the Magistratum. The dragon can move a lot more quickly than horses can.”

“Yes, certainly, but where exactly would he be taking us? Is it possible to, ah, steer this creature?”

Jakl turned his head toward the older mage.

“No offense intended, Mr. Dragon,” Anders added politely.

“His name is Jakl,” Calen said. “And he’ll be taking us to wherever Meg is. After that . . .”

“Can he carry all of us?” Serek asked.

“I don’t know,” Calen admitted. He turned to look at the dragon. Jakl was pretty big. It seemed like he could fit four people on his back. The three of them, plus Meg when they found her.

Jakl threw himself back against the ground, with what seemed obvious impatience. “I think that’s a yes,” Calen said.

“All right,” Serek said. “Jakl, please give us just a moment to collect our things.”

“Can he understand you?” Anders asked as the two men hurried back toward the picnic and their packs.

Calen couldn’t hear Serek’s response and didn’t really care. He itched to get moving, to find Meg. He leaned forward and stroked Jakl’s long neck. “You’re itching to get out of here, too, aren’t you?”

Jakl cocked an eye at Calen but otherwise didn’t move.

“Don’t worry,” Calen said. “We’ll help you. Everything will be all right.” He said that last part several times, for both of them. His mind was spinning with all the possible things that could have happened. All the recent talk about big, terrible events and dire predictions and his personal involvement in whatever danger was approaching was not helping. If anything happened to Meg . . . but no, she had to be all right, at least for now. Maybe in trouble, but not . . . not really hurt or anything. Certainly not . . . certainly still alive. Otherwise Jakl wouldn’t be here, seemingly okay. He held on to that thought and tried to feel better.

Anders’s voice rang out suddenly from where they’d left the horses. “Good-bye, Franny! Good-bye, Posy! Good-bye, Killer! Be nice!” Calen turned to see Anders looking after the horses as they trotted back along the road, back toward the Magistratum.

“That should confuse our pursuers, at least for a little while,” Anders said to Calen as he walked back over to where the dragon waited. Serek was still putting a few last items into his pack.

“How did you get them to head back home?” Calen asked.

“Oh, horses always want to head back home. I just helped by creating a little illusory carrot to start them on the way.”

“Illusory carrot?”

“Just what it sounds like. A fake little image of a carrot, dangling just out of reach. It will fade fairly quickly, but by then they’ll be well enough on their way that they’ll be dreaming of their stalls and fresh hay and whatever else horses like about being home. And I imagine they’ll run into whoever’s been sent after us before they get all the way back, anyway.”

“How do you do that? With your magic? Your spells before were like that, too, weren’t they? The ones you sent at the door and back down the road behind us. Like you tell them where to go and what to do.”

Anders considered him with interest. “You really can see what mages are doing when they cast, can’t you? That’s very impressive, Calen. My goodness. Well, in a sense you’re right — that’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s a bit like casting a series of spells that I want to happen in sequence, and then sending them off in a little bundle. I can show you more about it once we’re done running through the woods and flying through the air and all of that.” He turned his gaze to Jakl. “So what’s it like, riding a dragon?”