The Queen of Mages

Damn that careless girl. Why didn’t she tell me I’d be separated from her all evening? Katin rubbed her hands together. The evening air had cooled quickly and she’d begun to wish she’d brought a shawl of her own. The best warmth to be had out here in the foreyard was beneath the tall lamps along the yard’s outer walls, but the space around them was already clogged with people.

  The foreyard had no fire-eaters, no jugglers, no fantastic foreign delicacies. Just hundreds of idle valai, supping on warm stew and bread from wooden bowls. At least there was the small group of musicians to entertain them, but after the third go-round of “Summer Starlight” Katin began to consider beating them to death with their own fiddles.

  As in the song, the stars twinkled brightly; there was no moon tonight. The low hum of conversation droned all around her. She turned a little to glance at Liam, who had shadowed her the whole evening as she drifted around the yard.

  Occasionally she spotted valai she had met before, while attending Amira at some masque or dinner party, but she was too worried about Amira to strike up conversation. Even with Liam. He seemed to know quite a few of the valai, but stuck close to Katin anyway.

  At least he was easy on the eyes; that was all she could say in his favor. Handsome men had an innate arrogance, and Katin was suspicious of him, even though they’d barely shared a hundred words since they met.

  He caught her gaze and smiled. She reflexively smiled back, then yanked her eyes away and increased her pace. He had tried to make conversation a few times, but she’d merely hummed noncommittally. She wished there were some other way to distract herself here.

  But there was none. The wine they were served was watered down, making it difficult to get drunk, though a few valai had managed. The palace servants overseeing these so-called festivities paid close attention to those who grew unruly, and escorted the offenders out before anything untoward could happen. Katin would have gladly watched dogs fight over a bone.

  Liam startled her when he came around to look squarely in her eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Quite.” When he held his gaze on her, she glared back. “Don’t stare.”

  “My apologies. You looked a little… extremely annoyed.”

  She almost snapped at him, but realized that would be playing right into his hands. Her throat felt dry, so she instead asked him if he would be so kind as to fetch her a cup of wine. He nodded and departed at once.

  As soon as his back was turned, Katin darted between two groups of valai and sat on a stone bench partly hidden behind a hedge. Maybe he’d take the hint and leave her alone. But no; she clenched her jaw when he found her only a few moments later. “Ah, here you are,” he said, not realizing she’d tried to ditch him—or perhaps pretending.

  Katin pursed her lips and took the wine. “Thank you.”

  “It seems one must move mountains to wrench a few kind words from you,” Liam said. His voice was light, and his eyes twinkled.

  “Do not presume to know me,” Katin said.

  “I presume no such thing. I merely speak from experience.” He glanced down at the bench beside her. “May I?”

  She wanted to tell him to go away, but could not bring herself to be quite so rude. She nodded, and he sat, out of arm’s reach. “I feel that I must apologize, Miss Berisha. I seem to have done something to displease you, though I haven’t the slightest notion what that might be. I suppose I ought to apologize for that as well.”

  “I am merely worried about my lady,” Katin lied. Well, she was worried about Amira, if not only that. “And about your master’s intentions.”

  “Intentions? What intentions? He was browbeat into this by his mother. I’d be amazed if your lady ever wanted to see him again after tonight. She’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trample her feet in the ballroom.”

  “You speak so poorly of your master for one who presumably received training on how to act as a valo.”

  Liam grinned. “The whole city already knows what an awful dancer he is. I spill no secrets of his, I assure you.”

  “Well it is poor form to speak ill of your master. Tell me about yourself. Where are you from?”

  Katin hoped he’d take the bait, and he did. Men loved to talk about themselves, and Liam was no exception. “Hedenham County, born and bred,” he began. “I’ve been in m’lord’s service, oh, four years now. I was in his father’s house guard before that, but his lordship the count picked me to be his son’s valo when he came of age, and sent me off for training. My father’s a wool merchant. I had the best tutors. No deprivations to speak of.”

  “How did the son of a merchant become a guardsman?”

  “I, um… ran away to join the king’s army when I was fourteen.”

  Katin laughed, then caught herself. It would not do to let him think she found him amusing. Which she most definitely did not.

  “Hardly an unfair response,” Liam admitted. “My father was significantly less amused when he found out.”

  “I thought the royal army only took men of age?”

  “Indeed, but I was big enough at fourteen to pass for sixteen, so they were fooled and let me in. Although in hindsight I suspect they knew better, and simply chose not to turn away a healthy young volunteer. I served for two years before my father tracked me down. The beating he gave me…” He shook his head. “Count Tarian knew my family, and heard of my story. He offered to train me as a guardsman, a fate which my father took to be some sort of punishment.” His grin gave the lie to that.

  “But not you, I take it.” Katin realized she was actually interested in his story, and no longer simply aimed to fill the silence. Damn it. When will Amira come out of that accursed palace?

  “No. Father assumed I’d follow him into the wool trade, but… numbers, finance, all that, I can’t stand it. I can do it, I just don’t like it. The chance to use a sword, that’s what my blood called out for.” He waved imaginary steel, then let his arm drop. “Alas, guards at a country manor have much in the way of idle time, and I ended up helping Lord Dardan with his studies. We grew attached, and when he came of age, his father made me his valo.”

  “Does a valo get into more fights than a guard?”

  “Many fewer,” Liam said. “Although I do eat better.”

  “You try so hard to amuse.”

  “You’re smiling,” Liam shot back, with his own grin for accompaniment.

  Katin realized he was right, and wiped the grin from her face. “Well. A remarkable story.”

  “Remarkable?” he laughed. “Hardly. There are a thousand more like it. Where are you from, that such a story would be considered remarkable?”

  This irritated her. “Somewhere just as interesting as Hedenham County,” she said defensively.

  “That would be no great trick,” Liam replied, leaning toward her just a little. “And where would that be?”

  She sniffed. “I do not wish to blather about my past.” Nor will you ever learn about it.

  “Ah, so you wrest my life’s story from me with your feminine wiles, and leave me out in the cold.” He shivered.

  “I did not—!” She caught herself, feeling hot around the neck. She raised her cup to drink again, and found it empty. Maybe the wine wasn’t watered down quite as much as she’d thought. “You are rude, Mister Howard,” she said.

  “I consider a day wasted if I haven’t offended a lady by its end.”

  “M’lady is the lady. I’m just a vala.” She looked at him again. He seemed to be enjoying this. She wondered if he could take such jibes as he handed out. “Does it not reflect poorly on your lord to have such a lout for his valo?”

  “It’s to balance m’lord’s sobriety. Too much dutiful restraint will kill a man just as surely as a dagger.” Suddenly he frowned, as if he’d gone a step too far.

  “So you can stop talking,” she said. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible.”

  “The company of an intriguing lady loosens my tongue,” he admitted, smiling again. It was a lovely smile. To
o lovely.

  “There you go, calling me a lady again. I see your game, sir. I suppose next you’ll compare my beauty to that of a swan.”

  He touched her hand. When had he crept so close? “Beauty is weak coin,” he said softly. “I’ll take interesting over beautiful any day.”

  She jerked her hand away and laughed. “Do such lines usually work?”

  His mouth worked soundlessly. Clearly he hadn’t expected that response—

  A voice calling out caught her attention. After a moment she recognized her name: Katin! Katin! shouted over and over. Liam noticed as well, and they both stood up at once, glancing about.

  At the palace door stood Amira, with Lord Dardan at her shoulder. Amira searched the crowd, clearly trying to find them. “Katin!” she shouted again.

  Katin gathered up her skirts and rushed toward her lady. Something is wrong, something is terribly wrong. There had been a warm glow around Katin, which she only realized when it fell away to let the darkness close in again. Please don’t let her have used that terrifying power of hers…

  She pushed through a group of half-drunk valai, one of whom tried to grope at her as she passed. She heard a slap, and glanced back to see the man tumble to the ground, with Liam’s hand raised above him. He stopped for a moment, giving the reprobate a glare that froze him halfway to his feet, then continued on, taking Katin’s arm. She wanted to jerk away but could not make herself do it.

  Dardan saw them first and pointed them out to Amira. Moments later they came within reach. “M’lady, are you all right?” Katin asked, a little breathless from rushing across the foreyard.

  “Lady Amira is feeling, uh, unwell, I believe,” Dardan offered. He looked confused and a little flushed himself.

  Amira stepped forward, taking Katin’s hand. “I feel very warm,” she said, and Katin did not miss the emphasis.

  “Oh dear!” She put a hand up to Amira’s forehead. “Oh dear, we must get you home at once. M’lord, forgive me, but would you please summon the coach?”

  Dardan looked further confused, but nodded and moved off. Liam hesitated, his eyes on Katin, then followed his master.

  As soon as they were beyond earshot, Amira grabbed Katin’s arm and pulled her to a nook beside the archway. “Something happened in the throne room. It was Prince Edon. He had… I don’t know, some sort of light coming from his head.”

  Katin stared. “From his head? I don’t suppose you confused the prince with a stand-lamp…” She was relieved that Liam was gone for the moment. Something about him unnerved her. She shook it off. “Was there trouble? A fight, or something?”

  “No, no. We were in the receiving line, and when my turn came, I looked at Edon, standing next to his father. There was a line of silver light glowing along the side of his head.” She traced a finger down to her ear. “Then he looked at me, and… I think he saw the same thing in me.”

  Katin glanced around, checking that no one had come near. “Are you certain he was not just taken by your looks? I’ve seen that reaction in men before. Dardan nearly fell over when you met.”

  Amira shook her head frantically. “This was different. He had turned aside to speak with someone, and that’s when I saw the light. And when we left the throne room, he looked at me, and—” She cut herself off when she saw Liam trotting up.

  “M’lady, the coach awaits.”

  Their old gray driver stood waiting at the stone steps. Katin helped Amira into the coach, but when Dardan made to follow, she held up a hand. “M’lord, I beg of you, stay and enjoy the ball. It is likely no more than a woman’s troubles.” She caught Liam’s eye, hoping he’d get the message.

  Dardan hesitated, and Liam stepped into the gap. “M’lord, she will be all right.”

  His master furrowed his brow, but nodded. “My lady, I will visit on the morrow to see that you are well,” he called out to Amira. Then he turned to the driver. “Take them to her manse, then return here.”

  From within the cabin, Katin could not see the driver, but felt the coach shake a little as he shifted his weight. “Ah, yes, m’lord,” came his voice. “But, ah, the custom was for a single round trip…”

  Dardan smacked his hat against the side of the couch and shouted. “You will be properly paid, fool! Now go!” The old driver needed no more encouragement. He whipped the horses, and the coach lurched into motion.

  Amira had slouched against the back wall of the cabin, feigning distress. Once they were out of sight, she sat up straighter. “I feel bad for ruining his evening. He’d finally started to enjoy himself.”

  “Amira! The prince?” How could she even think about Dardan at a time like this?

  “Calm down, there’s no need to panic.” Amira reached up and started untangling the golden net from her hair.

  “Tell me everything that happened. Quietly,” Katin added. “The driver can likely overhear.”

  Amira told the tale of her evening: the ballroom, the courtyard, entertainments and cuisines from faraway lands, dancing in the ballroom… Katin tried hard to retain her focus, but she felt envy creeping in.

  When Amira described the throne room and the receiving line, Katin interrupted to ask for details, but Amira shrugged. “I don’t really remember. There were dozens of people about, but once I saw that light… It’s all a blur.” She snorted. “They say the prince is dim, but he seemed bright enough to me.” The girl seemed overly pleased by her jest. Katin wanted to slap her.

  Instead she sat back and thought. This must be related to Amira’s ember, but how? Did Edon have it too? “Show me again where you saw the light.”

  Amira turned her head and pointed. Katin leaned in close, pulling at Amira’s hair to see better. Amira squeaked and slapped her hand away. “Stop that!”

  “We must know if there’s any visible sign of it!”

  “Well at least wait until we arrive home. My hair is in enough disarray as it is. The servants will gossip.”

  “They’ll already gossip, with you coming home so early.” The ball often lasted till dawn, Countess Besiana had said. But Amira glared at her, so Katin let her be.

  Coach and horse traffic was virtually nonexistent this late, but crowds of men and women roamed the streets, dancing and drinking and singing. The commoners made their own ball on summer’s eve, a ragtag celebration that spread through much of the city. Last year, not yet nobles, Amira and Valmir had taken all their servants out onto Willbury Street and set up a table with food and refreshments for the neighbors. Katin had fallen asleep on the steps of their manse some time after midnight, and had awoken later to find Amira still dancing and smiling and laughing.

  Tonight, the crowds slowed the coach some, but before terribly long they arrived home. Katin rushed Amira inside, declaring that her lady was feeling quite ill and taking her up to her bedchamber at once. She called for broth and bread and commanded the other servants to keep their voices down, so as not to disquiet their mistress.

  Once alone, she helped Amira out of her gown and into nightclothes, and then examined her scalp. She could see nothing unusual at all beneath Amira’s hair. If there was something amiss, it was invisible to her.

  Sara brought in a covered tray bearing warm soup and bread for Katin and Amira both, although Amira protested that she was still full from the delicacies at the ball. Katin’s envy sprouted fresh thorns at that.

  “We should leave,” Katin said once Sara was gone.

  “Returning to the ball would seem very odd,” Amira said.

  “Be serious. I mean leave the city.”

  “What? Why?”

  “If you aren’t simply going mad, then Prince Edon likely saw in you what you saw in him. He does not have a reputation for gentleness. What if he comes here, looking for you?”

  “What, show up on our doorstep with a regiment of royal soldiers?” Amira laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I am not being ridiculous! Do you think these walls will protect you if the royal family decides you’re some
kind of threat? Do you think the king will hesitate to strip your peerage, if they investigate you and your true history is uncovered?”

  Amira blanched. “He can’t do that. Peerage is irrevocable.”

  “Unless obtained by deceit.” Katin forced her voice into a harsh whisper. This discussion could not go beyond the walls of this room. “Do you think anyone would leap to your defense, if it were discovered that you are the daughter of a madam, with a whore for a vala?”

  “Stop it! Why are you trying to frighten me?” Amira’s face was red and she seemed close to tears.

  “Because this childishness is going to get us killed. After they take your title we’ll be lucky if they don’t hang us both!”

  Amira trembled. But Katin had to make her understand. The shield of her title, of Valmir’s wealth, was nothing but paper and wind.

  She opened her mouth to speak again, but Amira interrupted. “Go to bed. I have no more need of you tonight.” Her voice was acid.

  “Amira—”

  “Go,” Amira repeated, and turned her back.

  Katin felt chagrin settle upon her. “Yes, m’lady,” she whispered. She waited a handful of heartbeats, but Amira did not say anything. Katin went off to her own cell, feeling a hollow in the pit of her stomach.

  She lay awake in the darkness for a long time, fearing that their safety had come to an end.

  CHAPTER 7

  DARDAN