Vixen's Magic

by Aron Lewes

  “Please don't blame yourself,” Kylin interrupted. “None of this is your fault.”

  Esha returned to Kylin and crouched beside her. “I want to try something,” he said, reaching for her arm. “I can't make any promises, and I don't want to get your hopes up, but it's better than trying nothing.”

  Kylin had no idea what he was talking about, so she only stared up at him, puzzled.

  “I have a sister. I believe I've mentioned her before,” Esha said. “She's extremely proficient in the healing arts. Seriously, her magic is unlike anything I've ever seen. Some years ago, when I was a reckless boy like Rai, she had to patch up all my scrapes and bruises. She can heal larger wounds too... wounds like this.” Esha tapped one of the arrows protruding from Wilhelm's back. “Perhaps... if she could fix Wilhelm's body, you would be able to bring him back?”

  Kylin perked up at the thought, but only a bit. She knew it was important to temper her expectations. “How far would we have to travel?” she asked.

  “We could probably reach my sister in a matter of hours, if we hurried... and if we went on horseback.” Esha ran to one of the abbey's windows and glanced outside. “Larien's carriage is still out there. We could use it to transport the body.”

  Kylin's jaw tightened as she considered the possibility. She didn't want to let herself get swept away by Esha's enthusiasm. Stoically, she said, “Usually, I have to bring someone back from the dead right away, or it won't work. However...”

  “However... what?” Esha urged her to continue.

  “If the departed soul has a strong attachment to this world, or to a particular person... I might be able to call them back after several hours, if not days.” Kylin scrambled to her feet and rubbed her cheeks, wiping away any lingering evidence of tears. “Esha... do you really think we could try it?”

  “Yes. I absolutely do. But again, I wouldn't get too excited. I can't promise anything.” Esha returned to Wilhelm and lifted him from the ground. The assassin was a larger man, but Esha was able to carry him. “We'll remove the arrows when we reach my sister's cottage. Is that alright with you?”

  Kylin nodded, whistled for Rai, and hurried out of the abbey with Esha. Her heart was pumping wildly, resisting her attempts to remain calm and realistic. As they climbed into Larien's carriage, she said, “I'm so sorry, Esha. I know you're supposed to be my Chosen, and this is a lot to ask you to do. I—”

  “You didn't ask. I offered,” Esha corrected her with a smile. “If I didn't do everything in my power to bring back the smile to your face, I wouldn't be a very good Chosen... would I?”

  Chapter Twenty

  WHEN LARIEN WOKE, HE was facedown in a moving carriage with his hands bound behind his back. He didn't have to see his face to know it was sticky with blood. He could feel it, smell it, and even taste the iron tang of blood on his tongue. He could barely recall what happened before he blacked out. He remembered the face of his imposter uncle, who was an excellent double, despite missing a few of his uncle's telltale scars and freckles. He remembered hearing a scream from one of his soldiers, right before he was tackled to the ground. Anything that happened after that was a mystery.

  Less than a minute after Larien opened his eyes, a voice in his head shouted, “Larien? Larien, are you conscious again? I thought I heard you!”

  The situation couldn't have been worse, but Larien still smiled at the sound of Esha's voice. “I'm here,” he answered. “Can you shed some light on what happened in the abbey? I feel very confused right now.”

  “I can, but you should brace yourself. You won't like what you hear,” Esha warned. “It was... a slaughter. Your soldiers were caught in a storm of arrows. Wilhelm died as well. I barely survived myself.”

  “The assassin died?” Larien took a moment to absorb the information, then continued, “What about his sister, Vala... and the boy?”

  “If you're talking about Rai, he's with me right now,” Esha told him. “We saw Vala briefly, then she took off after you.”

  “But she's unharmed?”

  “Yes.”

  A relieved sigh spilled through Larien's lips. “Good. Her safety matters more to me than most.”

  “It's strange that you would care so much about your assassin, but... I expect nothing less than strangeness from you,” Esha teased him. “My head's already pounding, so I don't know how long I can sustain the link. Is there anything else you'd like to know before I sever it?”

  “Are you alright?”

  “Yes, but I'm more concerned about you,” said the Esha in his head. “You've been captured by Edmore, haven't you? Are you—”

  Esha went silent in mid-sentence. The telepathic link between them was disrupted by distance and distress. With nothing left to do, Larien tried to wiggle out of the ropes that held his wrists together. The braided fibers chewed into his skin every time he moved, and the ropes never budged. Whoever tied him up had done an exemplary job.

  Some time later, the carriage stopped, and its door was thrown open. Two armed guards dragged Larien from its interior and presented him to his uncle.

  “Larien!” Edmore exclaimed. “You're awake now, I see. I imagine you're more than a bit confused, so let me fill you in.”

  Edmore wrapped an arm around his nephew's shoulders and led him toward the villa. As they walked, Edmore rehashed what Esha told him, but he spared no gory details.

  “You should have seen your men,” Edmore said, “They had so many arrows in them, they looked like human pincushions. The entire floor was slick and red, as if a bloody rain had showered the abbey. I don't think anyone survived... except for you, of course. Your soldiers threw themselves on top of you, risking their lives to save their prince. I admire that kind of loyalty. It says something about you, Larien. I doubt I would get the same devotion from my men.”

  “Men would always be loyal to a good king,” Larien said. “I would be a better king than you, and you know it.”

  “Perhaps. And that's precisely why I have to get rid of you. You can understand that, right?”

  “I can, actually,” Larien said. “Who would accept a shit king while I'm still alive?”

  Edmore led his nephew to the villa's prison, where they passed many empty cells. Edmore explained its vacancy, “I don't keep many prisoners. I prefer to assassinate my enemies... they're a lot less likely to retaliate.”

  “So, why haven't you assassinated me?” Larien asked.

  “Well... I tried. As you know.” Edmore yawned, revealing his many missing teeth. At his age, it was almost impossible to keep them all. “Since that failed, I'm going to try something a bit more... clever, I guess you could say. Besides death, what do you think is the best way to get rid of someone?”

  Larien reluctantly shared his answer. “You Silence them.”

  “Exactly!” Edmore patted Larien's shoulder, as if he was proud of him for guessing correctly. “I'm having a special event at the villa tomorrow. You, as well as three other prisoners, will be Silenced in front of a small gathering of friends, family, and anyone else who cares to attend. Once your consciousness has been separated from its body, I will auction you to the highest bidder. What do you think of that?”

  “I think you're twisted,” Larien said.

  “Yes, I probably am,” Edmore agreed, then he whistled for one of his guards to open a cell door. “You know, some say a Silencing is worse than death. Can you imagine it? Your body still moves on its own, while your mind is... where, exactly? No one knows.”

  Larien said nothing. He ducked into his cell, stood against the stone wall, and glared at his uncle.

  “I wonder... who would be mad enough to buy a Silenced prince?” Edmore mused. “You could end up as the lover of some old lady who uses your body for all sorts of unspeakable things. You could be the slave of your worst enemy... but that seems unlikely. I am probably your worst enemy, and I'm eager to get you off my hands. As of this time tomorrow, you'll be off my hands and out of my life for good. I'm looking forward to
it.”

  Larien was still silent, even as the cell door closed and locked behind him.

  “Do you have any last requests?” Edmore asked. “Maybe you'd like something specific for your last supper? Or maybe you'd like it delivered by a whoreish serving girl with a pretty face?”

  Larien closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “No?” Mild disappointment lifted one of Edmore's shoulders. “Oh well. I'll think of something appropriate before the day is over. Try to enjoy your final hours, Larien. Believe it or not, I think you're a good lad... but you were too good, and that's why I have to say goodbye to you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  AS PROMISED, LARIEN'S last meal was delivered by a serving girl with a pretty face, but it wasn't the face he expected. Vala was standing on the other side of the bars with a plate of salmon and rice. Her lavender hair was hidden under a long, blonde wig, and she was wearing a dress for the first time in years.

  “You get ten minutes with the girl,” croaked the guard who accompanied her. “Edmore says you can do whatever you want with her.”

  The cell door opened with a sharp, metallic scrape, and Vala was shoved inside by her armed escort.

  “No one will interrupt you for the next ten minutes,” the guard promised. “Share your meal, shag her, have a chat... whatever you want to do, it's up to you.”

  Neither Vala nor Larien spoke until the cell door was closed and the guard's footsteps could no longer be heard. As soon as it was safe, Vala threw down her plate and embraced the imprisoned prince.

  “I've got to get you out of here,” she said. “That man plans to Silence you. Trust me, you do not want to be Silenced.”

  “Vala... how did you even get here?” Larien asked.

  “I'm an assassin. It's a trick of the trade. I'm good at slippin' in and out of various places.” Vala released him from her embrace and crawled to the cell door, inspecting its lock. “Hmm... this isn't the sort of lock that I can usually pick. I can give it a try, though.”

  “I don't know if you could do that,” Larien said. “Even if you can pick the lock... what then? Are you going to fight your way through a dozen guards? You don't even have a sword.”

  “I've got knives on me, hidden under my clothes. As much as I hate dresses, they're good for concealing weapons. Look at this!” Vala tore off her wig and showed him the lock pick hidden beneath it. “Give me a few minutes. I'll see if I can get it open.”

  “Vala...” Larien let out a heavy sigh as he watched her tinker with the lock. “I don't think you should do this. I don't want to put you at risk.”

  Vala's lips sputtered at his reservations. “You're not putting me at risk. I'm putting myself at risk. And... I have to do this. If I lost you and my brother, I...”

  “Esha told me about Wilhelm,” Larien said. “Vala, I'm so sorry.”

  Vala clearly had no interest in discussing her brother's death, because she quickly changed the subject. “I had a hard time getting down here, you know. Edmore said he was looking for a pretty lady to entertain the prince. At first, he didn't think I was pretty enough. Even with the wig, it took some convincing.”

  “Well, I thought you were a sight for sore eyes,” Larien said. “Perhaps my uncle has no taste?”

  Vala growled so loud, she missed his reply. The clunky lock was resisting her attempts to crack it. “Maybe we could break the lock? It doesn't look that sturdy.” Vala reached under her skirt, freeing one of her hidden knives. “If I struck it at a certain angle, maybe it would just... fall off?”

  “Vala... don't,” Larien said. “As soon as you start banging on the lock, the guard will come back, and we'll both be jailed. I wouldn't want that.”

  “At least let me try!”

  Larien grabbed her arm before she could make a sound. “Vala, stop. I don't want anything bad to happen to you while you're trying to rescue me. Please.”

  “But I like you, Larien. I like you more than you realize.” Vala dropped her knife and brought her hand to Larien's cheek. “If I focus on getting you out of here, I don't have to think about...”

  “Wilhelm?” Larien guessed.

  Vala squinted hard, squashing away the tears that were building in her eyes. “Don't say his name. I can't stand to hear it right now.”

  “But it's not healthy to keep your emotions bottled up. You'll have to confront them eventually.”

  “Maybe. But not now,” Vala insisted. “Can I at least try to break the lock?”

  Larien shook his head. “No.”

  “Then... I'll rescue you before the Silencing,” Vala said. “It'll be broad daylight. I can see what I'm up against.”

  “Vala...” Larien whispered. Her hand was still on his cheek, so he pushed it to his lips and kissed her fingers. “I like you too. I like you more than you realize. I would let myself be Silenced before I would put you in harm's way.”

  “M-Maybe...” Vala stuttered when she felt his lips floating across her hand. “You, uh... K-Kylin brought back a Silenced once. If the worst happens, maybe she could do it again... if I could even find the girl.”

  “Esha's with her. The next time he reaches out to me, I'll ask him where she is.”

  “And that information will be no good, because you'll be Silenced,” Vala reminded him. “Please... please. We can't let this happen! We have to think of something. We—”

  Larien's mouth suddenly crashed into Vala's. Their allotted time must have been over, because the guard returned. Larien didn't want to miss his chance to steal a final kiss.

  “Thank you for coming, Vala,” Larien whispered. “The fact that you wanted to save me... it means a lot to me.”

  Vala adjusted her wig, hid her knife and lock pick, and murmured into Larien's ear, “I'm still going to find a way to save you. I swear it.”

  When she tried to kiss him again, the guard hoisted her up and dragged her through the door.

  LARIEN AND THREE OTHER prisoners were led to an ominous wooden scaffold on the front lawn of Edmore's villa. A small crowd, guarded by three dozen soldiers, had gathered around the makeshift stage. The soldiers outnumbered the spectators, which made Vala easy to spot in the crowd. When their eyes met, her hand was drifting to the hilt of her sword. Larien shook his head, reminding her to stay her hand.

  The prisoners were joined by Edmore and a hooded executioner. A Silencing was a sort of beheading, as it separated the mind from the body, but the executioner wielded no blade. Instead, he carried an oaken staff with a lapis lazuli tip.

  Edmore didn't introduce the prisoners, nor did he make any effort to distinguish Larien from the others. For whatever reason, he wanted the spectators to believe his prisoner wasn't a prince.

  “Welcome, guests, to my monthly Silencing,” Edmore greeted the crowd. “These prisoners have been charged with heinous crimes against me and my family, and will henceforth have their souls unseated from the body. Afterward, there will be an auction, and each prisoner will be handed off to the highest bidder.”

  Edmore gave a nod to the executioner, who moved soundlessly across the stage. He looked like a phantom, dressed in black rags, his face hidden entirely by his robe's dark hood. He approached the first prisoner and tapped his staff against the wooden floor. The staff's crystalline tip was engulfed in soft light, which was sucked into the prisoner's forehead. A moment later, the executioner swung his staff upward, and a smoky white wisp was wrenched from the prisoner's head.

  “Did you see that?” Edmore asked. “That was the soul leaving the body. What's left behind is a mindless, pliable servant. Watch.” He turned to the prisoner and commanded, “Raise your hand.”

  The Silenced prisoner complied.

  “Get on your knees,” Edmore said.

  The prisoner dropped and bowed his head.

  “Bark like a dog.”

  The crowd laughed when the kneeling prisoner yipped like a scared puppy.

  “Well done,” Edmore said. “Now rise, and let's proceed with the ceremony.”<
br />
  Larien was next in line, and he already knew there was no way to escape his fate. He clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and awaited the inevitable. Not even a final glimpse of Vala's face could ease his fear.

  A moment later, he felt nothing. He was nothing.

  When every prisoner was Silenced, they were instructed to remove their shirts and breeches. Edmore wanted his buyers to know exactly what they were purchasing, but he let them keep their undergarments. The starting bid for each prisoner was twenty gold.

  “For a prince, that's quite a bargain...” Vala whispered to herself. Her pockets were filled with gold, pinched from Edmore's coffers. Assassination wasn't her only talent—she was a skilled thief as well.

  She could have used another random, Silenced crewman, but Vala focused her attention on Larien. No one else seemed to know his worth, so the bid stayed low. For a mere forty coins, she purchased a Silenced prince.

  At the end of Edmore's auction, Larien was delivered by one of his uncle's guards. He was half-naked and collared like a dog.

  “Be careful with this one. He's a feisty one,” teased the guard who delivered him. It was an obvious joke, because the Silenced were anything but feisty. They were mute, docile slaves.

  “Larien...” Vala whispered. “Larien, is there anything of you left in there?” She stared into his eyes, unblinking and glassy. His mind was a vacant space, and his face showed no emotion.

  “Larien, I-I'll find a way to fix you,” Vala quietly promised. “I'll find Kylin. She might be able to help. I didn't think it was possible to bring back a Silenced, but the girl's got talent. She...”

  Vala's voice cracked as she studied the prince's lifeless face. His lips, still and unsmiling, made him look like a different man.

  Vala finally lost it.

  She threw her arms around the Silenced prince and sobbed against his chest.