The Princess of Trelian (27 page)

“So then what do we do?” Calen hated how their enemies always seemed one step ahead. Why did the bad guys seem to have plans and courses of action all laid out, while the rest of them were just stumbling around, trying to keep up?

Serek and Anders exchanged another of those irritating glances. “Maybe you should try to go get some rest, Calen,” Serek said.

“No,” Calen said. “I don’t want to go get some rest. I want to know what’s going on. I want to help figure it out.”

“Calen,” Serek began in a slightly dangerous tone.

“You let me help with the dream magic, didn’t you? And I did, I
helped.
You even said I knew more about the link than anyone, and I was the best one to do the spell. Why won’t you let me keep helping? How can I prove —?” He heard his voice getting louder and tried to lower it again. Which was hard because they were making him so
mad.

He looked back and forth between the two mages. “Isn’t it supposed to mean something that I got my first true mark? You’re acting like nothing has changed at all.”

“I have already explained that we cannot risk —”

“I’m not going to betray anyone!” Calen shouted. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“I do believe you,” Serek said. “Which is why I don’t know how to interpret the signs we have been seeing. Mage Brevera and his friends believed you were already in league with Mage Krelig in some way. I know that you are not. But I cannot guarantee that you will not be in the future. I don’t believe for a second that you would willingly betray the Magistratum, but I have no proof to offer in defense of that certainty.”

“But —”

“But,”
Serek went on, “there is still a chance that something will happen to change things. Maybe you will end up involved with Mage Krelig in some other way, through some accident, some strange chance . . . in which case any knowledge you had about our plans to fight him could be dangerous.”

Calen just stared at him.

“It’s nothing personal,” Anders said brightly. “Just taking precautions. You understand.”

“No,” Calen said. “I do not understand. I would never,
never
—”

“Think about it this way,” Serek said. “Wilem probably never thought he would be involved with a villain the way he was. But someone he trusted lied to him and coerced him into actions he didn’t fully understand.”

“I am
nothing
like Wilem!” He didn’t like the way Serek’s words echoed Meg’s own thoughts about Wilem’s behavior. “I don’t care what his reasons were. He still knew he was going to kill an innocent person. Do you really think I am capable of something like that?”

“I think,” Serek said, “that none of us truly know what we are capable of in any given situation until we are in it. Certainly I would not think, right now, that you would kill someone. But given the right motivation . . .” Serek sighed. “I’m not explaining this well, I’m afraid. No one is calling you a potential murderer, Calen. And I do not believe you have any ill intentions. But if there is
any
chance that you will be placed in a position where your knowledge of our plans could be used against us, then I must take suitable precautions.”

Calen didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say. He was still trying to come up with a response when there was a knock at the door.

“Now what?” Serek muttered as he went to answer it. A castle guard stood there, looking apologetic and nervous. He murmured something Calen didn’t hear.

“What?” Serek exclaimed.

The guard started to speak again, probably to repeat himself, but Serek cut him off with an impatient wave of his hand. “Yes, all right, I understand. You can send them here, yes.” He closed the door as the guard hurried away.

“Trouble?” Anders asked.

“Probably,” Serek said. “Five mages, demanding to see me but insisting they are not here to arrest us.”

Anders cocked his head, considering. “Five of them together probably could have forced their way past the guards if they’d wanted to,” he said.

“That was my thought, too,” Serek said.

“What do you think they want?” Calen asked. “Or are you afraid to tell me?”

Serek gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t be difficult about this, Calen. Things are difficult enough already.”

Which didn’t actually answer the question, Calen couldn’t help but notice.

A minute later they could hear voices in the hallway, and then the door swung open. “Your . . . uh . . . guests, Mage Serek,” the guard announced. He gave a quick bow and hurried away.

Five mages walked in through the open door. Their faces were all moderately to heavily marked, and their expressions were serious. Calen didn’t recognize any of them.

“So,” Serek said. He nodded to two of the men. “Edgard, Porlin. I don’t believe I know the rest of you. Welcome to Trelian. Are you really not here to arrest us, or was that just a lie to get past the guards without causing a scene?”

“It’s the truth,” the one Serek had called Edgard said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. We’re here to join you.”

For the first time in possibly ever, or at least as far as Calen could remember, Serek was momentarily speechless.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “You’ve quite lost me. Join me in what, exactly?”

“Join your faction,” one of the other mages answered. He offered his hand. “I’m Charlack, by the way.”

At Serek’s continued blank stare, the first mage spoke again. “I see that you are perhaps not aware of the events that have taken place at the Magistratum since your departure.”

“You cannot possibly have come from the Magistratum since we left,” Anders said suspiciously.

“No,” the other mage Serek had recognized — Porlin — said. “We were not there. We received messages from colleagues regarding the situation, and made our decisions accordingly. We are the first to arrive only because we happened to be closest; more will follow, over time, as quickly as they can.”

“More!” Serek looked utterly bewildered. “You must explain yourself. Right now.”

Porlin nodded and began, “The mages have become . . . divided. There are some who now believe that you and Mage Anders and your apprentice are all in league with Mage Krelig and are plotting to aid in his return. There are others who believe that you were simply misguided in your attempt to release your apprentice from Mage Brevera’s detainment, and who expect you to return once you receive assurance that Mage Brevera won’t carry through his plans to, uh . . .” He hesitated, seeming to notice Calen for the first time. “To . . . neutralize him via possibly overaggressive means,” he finished somewhat awkwardly.

“What does
that
mean?” Calen demanded.

“Quiet,” Serek said. “And yourselves?”

“We believe you are best suited to lead the efforts to prevent Mage Krelig’s return and to capture or kill him if he does manage to come back.”

“What?” Serek asked. “That’s — that’s out of the question. I’m not leading anything. I’m certainly not participating in some kind of uprising against the council, if that’s what this is. Where do they stand on all of this?”

“They are still trying to maintain some kind of order,” Edgard said, “but more and more mages are declaring their intentions to join one or another faction despite that.”

“We are also of the belief that your apprentice might be the key in bringing down Mage Krelig, rather than Krelig’s ally against us,” one of the other mages added.

Suddenly Calen liked these mages a lot more. Not everyone thought he was the enemy, at least.

Serek ran a hand through his hair. He seemed as out of sorts as Calen had ever seen him. “Are you really standing there calmly informing me that the Magistratum is dissolving as we speak?” Serek asked.

“Not necessarily,” Edgard said, at the same time that Charlack said, “Yes.”

Edgard looked at Charlack and sighed. “Not necessarily,” he said again, a little louder. “At least some of us believe we can convince the council to support our side, in which case we could try to win back some of the other mages and reclaim a majority. After that, even those who don’t agree might be more likely to return to the fold.”

“All right. Just — just hold on,” Serek managed. “We need to sit down and discuss this and stop it before things get entirely out of hand.”

“Sounds like it’s a little late for that,” Anders said.

Serek ignored him. “There’s a meeting room on the second floor that can hold all of us,” he said. He turned to Calen. “You stay here.”

“What? No —”

“Calen!” He was practically growling. “Do not test me on this. Trust me that I’m trying to do everything that I can to protect Trelian and the Magistratum.”

When Calen opened his mouth to object further, Serek cut him off. “Or don’t trust me, curse you, but obey me anyway. Once we are past this crisis, we can go back to full training. For now I have to keep you ignorant of certain things. That’s just how it must be.”

With that, Serek turned and led the other mages out and down the hall. Anders paused before following them. “I know it’s frustrating to be kept in the dark,” he said. “But Serek really is doing what’s best. Try to accept it, eh?”

He clapped Calen on the shoulder and went out after the others.

Calen stared after them. How did Serek expect him to just sit here after hearing that the Magistratum was coming apart and Calen himself was part of the reason for it? Maybe the
whole
reason. Could this be the danger everyone had been worried about? Only that would mean that the trouble was caused by the warning that there would be trouble. He supposed prophecies could work that way, but he still doubted this was really what everyone was so afraid of. Not that it wasn’t terrible that the mages were taking sides against one another, but surely the real danger had to do with Mage Krelig. Everything kept coming back to that.

He started pacing, trying to think. And almost immediately tripped over something and went sprawling. A yowl followed by a painful swipe of claws revealed the something in question to be Serek’s gods-cursed gyrcat.

“Argh!” Calen shouted, grabbing for the hateful creature. But Lyrimon had already faded back into near invisibility, blending in and becoming less there than whatever was around him. Which was why Calen never saw him until it was too late. Gods, but he hated that stupid cat!

At least now he knew enough about healing to be able to do something about the cuts. He caressed his aching calf with soft golden energy, adding a bit of blue to ease the sting. He glanced around, still trying to see where Lyrimon had gone. He thought longingly for a moment of casting something to make the cat visible against its will, like whatever Serek and Council Master Renaldiere had cast to reveal those magic-creatures, but it wasn’t really the same situation. Lyrimon was a real animal, flesh and blood, that had the ability to blend and fade. There was probably still something Calen could figure out to counteract the cat’s ability; he was sure that if he spent enough time thinking about it . . . but Serek probably wouldn’t like it. And now didn’t seem like the best time to make Serek angry. Angrier.

Calen’s eye fell on Serek’s desk. In the top drawer, he knew, was Serek’s set of spirit cards.

Maybe if Serek wasn’t going to tell him anything, he should try to find something out for himself.

The idea of doing something made him feel infinitely better. He hated just waiting here in ignorance. Surely it couldn’t really hurt to see what he could find out. Serek had taught him more about divination since his first use of the cards, back when he’d first met Meg. And Serek was always saying that Calen had a real talent for divination. Of course, he was also always saying that divination was difficult and unreliable, along with a whole bunch of other warnings, but still, it wasn’t like Calen had to
act
on whatever he saw. He just wanted to get a better sense of what was happening, what kind of danger he was supposedly so involved in. Maybe if he knew more about it, he could avoid doing whatever terrible thing everyone was so afraid he would do.

He glanced at the door. Serek and the others would be gone for a long time. He certainly had time to do at least one quick reading of the cards.

All right, then. Before he could change his mind, he got up and took the cards from the drawer. He sat in Serek’s chair, shuffling the cards and focusing his mind on the question of the portal mage and what his own involvement with him might be. He decided to use one of the most basic patterns for the cards: a simple three-card spread representing past, present, and future.

When he felt he had shuffled them enough, he lay the top three cards down in front of him. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and relaxed. It was important to stay focused and not let anything he saw distract him from the reading.

The first card represented the past. It showed a baby in a cradle, and as Calen looked at it, the familiar feeling of
connection
came over him, the cards seeming like living beings, as if they were trying to touch him, to tell him important things. The message in this card was instantly clear: innocence. That must refer back to the time before any of this started, before Sen Eva and her evil plot and maybe even back before he’d met Meg.

The second card, the present, showed a small boat caught up on rocks in the middle of a river. The boat wanted to move, to get off the rocks and flow freely along in the water toward its destination, but it was stuck. Stuck like Calen was, unable to do anything because of the suspicion hanging over him.

The third card showed the future — or what the future could bring, if the present did not change. The image on this card was of a king, smiling from atop his golden throne. But it was upside down, which made the smile look like a frown. And it didn’t represent a king, not literally. It meant a person who had reached some pinnacle of achievement, some place of fulfilled destiny or ambition. Or it should have, but because it was reversed, it signified the opposite: a person unfulfilled. Who never became what he should have been. Never did what he was meant to do. And along with that, there was an echo of a larger disappointment, a larger sense of things not being the way they were meant to be.