The Magelands Epic: Storm Mage (Book 6)

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Imagine seeing this every day,’ she said. ‘I would never tire of it.’

  ‘You heard what Bluebell said. Half of us will be getting on a boat and sailing to Rainsby.’

  ‘I’m going to volunteer,’ said Thorn.

  ‘But I thought you wanted to stay here?’

  ‘I do, but I want to earn it first. This is my chance to show the Empress what I can do. Did you see her smile at me?’

  Bracken frowned.

  ‘And did you notice the woman who was standing to the left of her Majesty?’ Thorn went on. ‘The one that looked half-Holdings, half-Kellach Brigdomin? She couldn’t have been all that much older than me, and she’s close to the Empress.’

  ‘We’ve been here two hours, and you’re already planning to be in the Empress’s inner circle? Sometimes your head gets so big I’m amazed you can stand up.’

  ‘Don’t be jealous; you’re my best friend.’

  Bracken snorted. ‘What? You practically abandoned me for the entire journey so you could cosy up next to Agang Garo.’

  ‘That was work,’ Thorn said, shaking her head. ‘I learned more from him that I did from reading every history book in Greyfalls Deepen. And he helped me practise my Holdings. Travelling is fundamentally boring, so I felt it would be more useful to spend the hours learning, rather than just staring out of the window like an idiot.’

  Bracken said nothing.

  ‘I hope you used your time well,’ said Thorn.

  ‘Um, I…’

  ‘Listen,’ said Thorn, ‘if we stick together, we can help each other through the next few thirds. My success is your success. Look at how far we’ve come already. Back in Greyfalls Deepen we were still girls, getting caught misbehaving. Today, the Empress addressed me directly. Tomorrow? But I can’t do it on my own. I need you to help me. Will you?’

  Bracken smiled and nodded.

  ‘Good,’ said Thorn. ‘Now I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I have a few suggestions about how you can best help me. First, you need to improve your language skills. No one will speak Sanangka in Rainsby, so I need you to be able to communicate. And I mean Rahain as well as Holdings.’

  ‘You don’t speak Rahain.’

  ‘I studied both languages for an hour each day in the carriage,’ said Thorn. ‘Agang tutored me.’

  Bracken’s mouth opened.

  ‘Next,’ Thorn went on. ‘Your hair. Please sort it. And I hear that the dentists in the city are marvellous. Perhaps you might want to think about seeing one. You’d feel more confident when you smiled.’

  For a moment Bracken looked like she was about to start crying.

  ‘I’m not saying any of this to be mean,’ Thorn said. ‘I’m saying it because I’m your best friend, and I want the best for you.’

  Thorn glanced around to make sure no one was about, then withdrew a stick of dreamweed from a pouch.

  ‘Are we allowed to smoke up here?’ said Bracken.

  ‘Maybe you’re right. What about one of those small huts?’

  They walked away from the railing and towards one of the brightly painted cabins. Thorn opened the door and glanced inside. It was filled with children’s toys and games.

  Thorn frowned. ‘Perhaps not this one.’

  They went to the next cabin, which sat under the spreading branches of a beech tree. She opened the door to an earthy smell coming from the assortment of gardening tools, and thick, leather aprons hanging from the wall. As she was about to step inside, she noticed someone sitting in the corner, a boy with brown hair.

  ‘Hello,’ she said.

  The boy looked up. His eyes were wet and he was wearing a deep frown.

  ‘My name’s Thorn. Do you want us to go away and leave you alone?’

  He gazed up at her and blinked. His mouth opened slightly; a male response she was used to. He shook his head. Thorn smiled and walked into the cabin. There was a wooden bench by the left wall and she sat, while Bracken came in after her and closed the door.

  Thorn glanced at the boy. He was handsome, but his age puzzled her. He was taller than her, but his eyes looked younger.

  ‘Are you Kellach Brigdomin?’ she asked. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘I’m Corthie.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ said Bracken. ‘Were you crying?’

  ‘No,’ the boy said, wiping his eyes.

  Thorn went over the boy’s name in her head, examining her memories for anything Agang had said.

  ‘I’m sorry about Lord Laodoc,’ she said. ‘Were you very close?’

  The boy broke down, thick tears dropping onto his cheeks as he sobbed. Thorn put a hand on his arm and squeezed it gently. She sent her healing powers into him, just enough to impart a soft glow of well-being.

  ‘I’m here if you need someone to talk to,’ she said.

  ‘Who’s Lord Laodoc?’ said Bracken.

  Thorn turned to her. ‘He was killed a few days ago.’

  ‘Killed? What do you mean? What happened?’

  Corthie looked up. ‘Someone came into our house and tried to kill everyone.’

  Thorn’s eyes widened.

  ‘He killed all the soldiers that were supposed to protect us, and then he tried to kill me and my sister. Laodoc died.’

  ‘How did you survive?’ said Thorn.

  ‘I killed him before he could kill us.’

  ‘But I thought you said he managed to kill lots of soldiers?’ said Bracken. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Thirteen.’

  Thorn raised an eyebrow. ‘You look older.’

  ‘It’s the Kellach part of me.’

  ‘How did you kill him?’ said Bracken, edging closer to the boy.

  ‘I bashed his head in with an ashtray. His brains came out.’

  The door to the cabin opened and the tall, dark-skinned woman from the Empress’s court entered.

  ‘Hello,’ said Thorn, taking her hand off Corthie’s arm.

  The woman gazed into Thorn’s eyes, then did the same with Bracken.

  ‘Come on, Corthie,’ she said. ‘It’s time for lunch.’

  ‘Who are you?’ said Bracken.

  The woman smiled, but Thorn could see it was forced.

  ‘I’m Karalyn Holdfast.’

  ‘Corthie’s brother,’ said Thorn.

  ‘That’s right,’ Karalyn said, frowning. ‘And you are Miss Thorn.’

  Thorn stood and extended her hand. ‘Yes.’

  Karalyn took her hand. ‘You certainly charmed the court today, but I know trouble when I see it.’

  ‘You misunderstand me,’ said Thorn. ‘I’m just a simple village girl, come to offer my services, humble as they are, to the Empress.’

  Corthie stood. ‘Why are you giving her a hard time, sis? We were getting on fine before you came in.’ He turned to Thorn. ‘She can read people’s minds.’

  Thorn choked back a gasp of surprise.

  Karalyn smiled. ‘My brother wasn’t supposed to tell you that, but it’s true. That’s what I do here. I protect the Empress by reading the thoughts of all who approach her, to ensure her safety.’ She gazed at Thorn, who shrank back a step. ‘I know what goes on inside that mind of yours, the wheels that turn, the plans, the hopes. I see it all. Now, the next cabin along is free. I suggest you go and smoke your dreamweed there.’

  Thorn said nothing, curtsied politely, and left the cabin. Bracken trailed along behind her, her eyes wide.

  ‘Close your mouth,’ Thorn snapped at her as she strode along the path. ‘Are you trying to catch flies?’

  Chapter 12

  Odd Jobs

  North-Western Plateau – 6th Day, Second Third Spring 525

  ‘How far is it to the nearest village?’ said Kelsey as they trudged along the country lane, each leading their mount by the reins.

  Keir shrugged, his mind on food, or the lack of it. ‘A couple of hours, maybe.’

  Kelsey sighed. ‘My feet are sore.’

  ‘And who’s fault’s that?’ Keir snarle
d. ‘Your stupid horse is the reason we’ve been walking for days.’

  ‘Don’t you listen to him, Fickle,’ Kelsey said to the young mare. ‘He has no sympathy for your sore leg, even after all the miles you’ve carried me.’

  ‘Right now, the most useful thing we could do with Fickle is eat her. If she can’t carry you, then she’s just a useless hunk of meat.’

  ‘You utterly foul beast; you wouldn’t dream of saying that if it had been Monty who had picked up an injury. And it’s a temporary problem. If there’s a blacksmith in the next village, we can re-shoe her and let her rest for a bit.’

  ‘And how are we going to pay for that? Our money ran out days ago.’

  ‘You’re a big, strong lad,’ said Kelsey. ‘You could work.’

  ‘What? Help out on a farm or something stupid like that? I don’t know anything about peasant work.’

  ‘You can lift heavy things, can’t you? You don’t need brains for that, which is just as well in your case.’

  They reached the banks of a small stream that flowed down from a ridge of low hills to the north, dividing the green countryside in two. Patches of woodland and wide, grassy meadows lay on either side, and insects buzzed over the flowers by the water’s edge. It was warm on the Plateau, though not as warm as it would be on the Holdings. Keir and Kelsey led their mounts to the water to let them drink. Kelsey sat on the grass, picking daisies.

  ‘I could strangle someone for a cigarette,’ Keir said, wiping sweat from his brow.

  ‘Do you think they’re still looking for us?’

  ‘Of course they are,’ said Keir. ‘We’re the children of the First Holder; I imagine there will be troops out searching every main road.’

  ‘It was a good idea I had, admit it,’ she said. ‘They’ll never think that we‘d travel west first, right across the whole of the Holdings, and enter the Plateau from the other side. They’ll be looking in all the wrong places.’

  ‘Yeah, but it took ages, and we’ve run out of everything that we need. It’s not much of a “good idea” if it starves us to death.’ He glanced at Fickle. ‘Unless, of course…’

  ‘If you touch her, then I’ll wait until you’re asleep one night, and slit your throat.’

  Keir laughed, but felt a twinge of uneasy fear at the same time. He knelt by the stream and splashed his face, then cupped his hands and took a long drink.

  ‘We could sell Monty,’ said Kelsey. ‘You know, if we’re walking anyway.’

  Keir spat out a mouthful of water and turned to her. ‘What? Let some dirty peasants get their hands on one of the best stallions the estate has produced in years? Are you mad? Stupid question – this is Kelsey Holdfast we’re talking about. The mad prophet of the Holdings.’

  Kelsey smiled. ‘We’ll see if you feel the same way after a few more days of no food.’

  Keir threw her the empty water-bottles. ‘Do something useful and fill these.’

  ‘Yes, master,’ she said, rolling her eyes.

  He watched as his sister knelt by the river bank, her tangled and messy hair spilling over her shoulders. He knew that if it weren’t for her, he would most likely have found some face-saving reason to go home, but with her there it would be like an admission of failure. He missed the estate, the house, his friends, and even his father and Aunt Celine, but there was no way he was going to tell his sister. Why had he ever listened to her? His stomach rumbled, and his eyes started to tear up. He shook his head, banishing any notion that he was about to cry in front of Kelsey. No way.

  ‘There are fish in the river,’ she said as she filled the bottles.

  ‘Yeah?’ he said, gazing at the waters. He hated fish, but his hunger didn’t care.

  ‘Do you know how to catch them?’

  He frowned. ‘Do you?’

  She squinted at him. ‘Of course not.’

  He put his hand into the water and tried to grab the closest silvery fish, but it slipped away with ease.

  ‘I’m pretty sure that’s not the way,’ she sniggered.

  ‘Shut up,’ he scowled. He tried again, and Kelsey laughed.

  He stood, put his foot on his sister’s back, and pushed her into the river.

  ‘Think it’s funny, eh?’ he said as Kelsey flew into the waters shrieking. Her arms and legs flailed about wildly as she hit the muddy bottom. She sat up and glared at him, the water coming up to her waist.

  Keir stood on the bank and forced himself to laugh.

  ‘When did you become an arsehole?’ she said. ‘I remember when you were all shy and awkward, and too nervous to even look at a girl. Now, you’re nothing but a thick-skulled bully. I want you to think back to how you used to feel, back when you still had your stutter.’

  He frowned.

  ‘You remembering, aye?’ she went on. ‘Good. Now, in a few thirds you’re going to meet a very beautiful young woman, more beautiful than any of the girls you dated in Hold Fast. She’ll smile at you, and your knees will go weak, and you’ll stammer and splutter and make a right arse of yourself. The young woman will look at you with a mixture of pity and scorn, and when that happens, I’ll be standing by your side, laughing at you the same way you just laughed at me.’

  Keir’s anger flared. He stared at his sister as she scrambled to the bank and pulled herself out onto the grass, her clothes and hair soaking. She stood and, without looking at her brother, walked over to the packs slung on the flank of her mare, Fickle.

  ‘Did you make that up?’ he said.

  She smiled.

  ‘Brat.’

  ‘Oh, I think you’ll find I’m the mad prophet of the Holdings. Now, bugger off and leave me alone to get changed in peace.’

  Keir remained where he was for a moment, then turned and walked away, following the banks of the river towards where the path forded the waters. The flowers reached up to his knees, and birds were singing in the branches of trees. He swatted an insect from his cheek and gazed out over the landscape, trying not to think of the words that his sister had spoken. She had shown him many proofs that she could see the future, and he knew she shared some of the same powers as his other sister, but she was also a lying little brat who loved to mock him. She was making it up, he decided. It was exactly the kind of thing she would do.

  ‘Come on, Fickle,’ she said behind him.

  She led her mare across the ford without glancing in his direction. He shook his head and went back to collect Monty.

  Three hours later, as the sun was reaching its zenith, a small village appeared in the distance. Keir saw the smoke first; thin tendrils rising from a few chimneys, then the houses and other buildings came into view. They passed fields on either side of the path, some with crops, others with cattle and sheep. A shepherd watched them from a low rise, three large dogs by his side, as they reached the first buildings.

  ‘Is that a tavern?’ Keir said, pointing at a low structure.

  ‘Might be,’ Kelsey said, ‘though it looks too small to have rooms for rent. Let’s go there first, to see if they have any jobs needing done. And remember, let me do the talking.’

  Keir frowned but said nothing. His sister had proved her powers of persuasion on more than one occasion during their journey. They tied their mounts’ reins to a fence post and walked up the lane to the low building. Kelsey knocked once on the door then pushed it open.

  ‘Hello?’ she said, peering into the dark interior.

  Keir followed her into a small room, laid out with a few tables and chairs. An unlit hearth stood by one wall, while an open door to their left led into a kitchen. An aproned Holdings man walked in, wiping his hands on a towel. He glanced at them both, his eyes widening a little when he noticed Keir’s height.

  ‘What can I do for you two?’ he said.

  ‘We’re on our way to the imperial capital,’ Kelsey said. ‘My brother has a job waiting for him there. We were hoping you might have some work for us, in exchange for supplies for our journey.’

  ‘What kind of work?’


  ‘We’re not fussy,’ she said. ‘Whatever will put food in our bellies.’

  The man narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re a little young to be travelling on your own.’

  ‘My brother’s eighteen.’

  Keir remained silent as the man eyed him up and down.

  ‘Does he speak?’

  ‘I speak,’ said Keir, ‘but I’ve learned it’s easier to let my sister do the talking.’

  The man smiled.

  ‘Does the tavern do much business?’ said Kelsey, glancing at the empty tables.

  ‘It’s not much of a tavern,’ the man said. ‘The villagers come here for their evening meal every day, and in return they give me a share of their produce. We don’t get many visitors.’

  ‘I can cook,’ Kelsey said, ‘and serve tables, and do the cleaning up; whatever you need.’

  ‘And him?’ the man said, nodding at Keir.

  ‘Do you have any heavy things that require lifting?’

  The man laughed. ‘Take a seat, and we’ll sort something out.’ He turned towards the kitchen. ‘Tilda, come and see our new workers.’

  ‘Our what?’ said a woman’s voice from the kitchen.

  Keir and Kelsey sat at the closest table and watched as the woman entered the room. Her eyes fell upon the new arrivals.

  ‘Workers?’ she said.

  ‘Odd-jobbing their way to the city.’

  ‘He looks strong,’ said Tilda.

  ‘Yeah,’ said the man. ‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’

  Tilda nodded. ‘I surely am. Fetch the wheelbarrow.’

  Keir had never carried out so much physical labour in his life. For hour after hour he toiled; loading rubble and stone from the backyard of the tavern, wheeling it all the way to the far end of the village, and unloading it there. Back and forth, again and again, until his shoulders, back and arms were aching, and sweat had saturated his clothes. Every time he returned to the tavern, Kelsey would pop outside with refreshments for him, and he would sit for a minute, eating a bread roll, drinking water and smoking a cigarette. At first, no one in the village had seemed to notice him, but as the afternoon drew on, more and more people began returning from the fields, and several stopped their conversations as he passed. A small group of young women stood and watched him unload the wheelbarrow, smiling and giggling at him until an older woman ushered them away. He wondered what Kelsey had told the tavern-keepers about their heritage. In a settlement that they had passed several days before, she had insisted he was just a freakishly tall Holdings lad, but the locals had seemed doubtful.