Shadow Magic

by Patricia C. Wrede

  The others were questioned in more detail, and it was some time before the Queen was satisfied. Alethia was beginning to nod when the Queen finally called in another servant to take them to their rooms.

  “We will speak more tomorrow,” she said as she left them, her smile cold and her thoughts unreadable. Illeana and Jordet exchanged worried frowns as they departed in the servant’s wake.

  Chapter 13

  MAURIN WOKE LATER THAN usual the following morning; the ride through the mountains had tired him more than he had realized. He tested his left arm cautiously. His side still ached a little, but it was the healthy ache of healing muscles. At this rate, he would be battle fit in another week, nearly a month sooner than normal. Rarn’s potion was truly remarkable. He wondered whether she would be willing to sell the recipe, or perhaps, if it kept well, trade for jars of the stuff…

  “I thought I heard movement in here,” Har said, poking his head through the doorway. “If you want breakfast, you’d better get your wheels spinning.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” Maurin said, and he was as good as his word. He found Alethia, Tamsin, Har, and Jordet eating breakfast in a small room a few doors down from his own.

  “I hope you haven’t been waiting for me long,” he said as he took his seat and reached for a steaming bowl of cooked grain.

  “No, but you’ll have to hurry anyway,” Jordet said. “The Council of Lords will begin soon, and we must all be there before it starts. It wouldn’t be wise to keep them waiting.”

  “Yes—but about the aid for Brenn,” Har said. “How many men do you think they will send?”

  “It is not at all certain that they will send any,” Jordet said reluctantly. “That is one of the things the Council must decide today.”

  “But Queen Iniscara said…” Alethia’s voice trailed off, and she frowned. “Well, she didn’t actually promise to send help, not in so many words. But it was clear what she meant.”

  “Sheleran is not ruled solely by the Queen,” Jordet said. “In fact, the Council of Lords holds the power here. Do not expect too much.”

  “Sounds just as bad as home,” Har said disgustedly. “A figurehead ruler governed by her council—like our Regent and the Nine Families.”

  Jordet flushed. “Few lords will see an attack on Brenn as a threat to Sheleran, and many of them will fight against renewed contact between our peoples. Some will be simply uninterested in your plight. I am sorry.”

  There was silence for a moment. “At least that man Queen Iniscara dismissed won’t be there,” Alethia said finally. “If he were in charge of the Council, we wouldn’t have a chance.”

  “Medilaw will be at the Council,” Jordet replied. “He is no longer High Minister, but as a Lord Advisor he has a great deal of influence. Do not underestimate him.

  “How can he be a Lord Advisor?” Har said. “I thought the Queen dismissed him?”

  “Lord Nember has replaced Medilaw as High Minister, it is true,” Jordet said, “but even the Queen cannot dismiss a Lord Advisor, except for treason or insanity. Medilaw has two years to go in his term of office.”

  “There’s nothing we can do about Medilaw,” Maurin said quickly as Har opened his mouth to speak again. “What else should we know about this Council?”

  “Medilaw isn’t the only Lord who dislikes humans. If you hope to sway the Council, you must ignore their intolerance, no matter how unpleasant they are.”

  Har snorted. “We would have been better off going to Lacsmer, the way I wanted to in the first place.”

  Alethia frowned at him. “If you could be polite to First Lord Orlin when he was in Brenn last year, I don’t see why you can’t manage to do the same for a Shee council. Particularly since it’s so important to Brenn.”

  Before Har could reply, a guard arrived to summon them to the Council. He led the little group through the palace corridors to a long hall lined with windows. Rows of low-backed benches took up most of the floor, many of them already occupied by Shee lords and ladies in colorful robes. At the far end of the hall, Queen Iniscara sat on a raised throne of jet black. On her head was a delicate silver crown set with black jewels. Her garments were silver, shading into black at her feet so that she seemed a part of the throne on which she sat. The throne itself looked as if it had been carved from a single block of stone. The back rose high above the Queen’s head, and a circle of runes was inlaid upon it in silver.

  To the Queen’s right was a throne of identical design, but made of polished wood. In it sat Murn, and above her head the same runes shone in milky jade. On Iniscara’s left was yet another throne made of crystal, with the runes inlaid in mother-of-pearl. The man seated there was robed in white and on his deep green hair sat a thin circlet of gold. His skin was pale and faintly iridescent, like the sheen of a pearl or a fish’s scales. Alethia leaned toward Jordet.

  “Who is that?” she asked, nodding at the man in the crystal throne.

  “He is Merissallan of the Neira,” Jordet replied. “And don’t ask me why the Queen invited him to be here, or Murn either! It has been a hundred years since there was a full council of all the Lords of Sheleran, and as far as I know there has never been one attended by representatives of the other races.”

  But there must have been others, Maurin thought. Those thrones weren’t made in a week or two. He wondered whether there was a fourth throne for humans hidden away somewhere, and whether any of the Shee would admit it if there was.

  “You are to be seated here,” their guide said in an expressionless tone. He gestured at a row of straight-backed chairs just inside the door. “Ward-Keeper, there is a place for you farther up.”

  “I’ll stay with my cousins,” Jordet replied. The Shee guard looked startled, then resigned, and went for another chair.

  Many of the Shee who lined the walls had broken off their conversations to stare unabashedly and somewhat rudely as the humans settled themselves in their places. Even some of those already seated in the rows of benches stopped talking and craned their necks to get a look at them. Har leaned over to Maurin. “It looks as if we are creating quite a sensation,” he whispered.

  “I’d be happier if we weren’t,” Maurin replied. “Traders have good reasons for preferring to listen first and talk later, but it is hard to do inconspicuously if one is the center of attentions.”

  “True, o fox. Jordet, who are all these people?” Har said.

  “The Council Lords of Sheleran,” Jordet replied. “They wear different colors according to their rank, and the five Lord Advisors wear purple, no matter what they are entitled to by birth. They should be arriving any minute.”

  Jordet had barely finished speaking when a chime sounded through the hall. As the sound died, five Shee in purple robes moved to seat themselves at a low, curving table just in front of the three thrones. All around the hall, those lords and ladies who were still standing found places among the benches. Then an unfamiliar Shee dressed in black and purple stepped out from behind the table and into the center of the floor. He was carrying Medilaw’s staff, and Jordet leaned toward Har and Maurin.

  “That is Lord Nember, the new High Minister,” he whispered.

  Maurin nodded. Medilaw’s replacement was a little older and thinner than the former High Minister. His expression gave no clue as to his thoughts as he raised the staff and struck the marble floor once. A second chime went ringing through the hall, leaving an abrupt and complete silence behind it

  “Lords of Sheleran!” Nember said. “You are come to decide what course we shall take; be therefore honest and thorough in your deliberations.” For the third time he struck the floor. “The Council is begun!”

  The new High Minister bowed and returned to the table. There was a brief hum of voices, which died as Nember raised the staff again. “Alethia Tel’anh,” he said in a cool voice, “step forward.”

  Alethia rose uncertainly and moved out into the hall. Despite himself, Maurin tensed. When she reached the center of the
floor, Nember raised his staff again, and she stopped. “Alethia Tel’anh of Brenn,” the High Minister said, extending the staff toward her. “You are summoned before the Queen and the assembled Lords of the Shee, to answer truly the questions we shall ask. Are you agreed to stand so?”

  “I am,” Alethia said, raising her chin slightly.

  “Then begin by telling us how you and these other humans came to our city,” Nember said.

  Alethia’s eyes narrowed, but her voice, when she began to speak, was controlled and betrayed no hint of temper. In a level tone, she told the story of her kidnapping and the events that followed. Several times she was interrupted by questions from one or another of the Council members before she finished.

  At last Nember waved Alethia back to her seat at the conclusion. He turned to the Queen and bowed, then faced the assembly again. “Har Tel’anh of Brenn, you are summoned before the Queen and the assembled Lords of the Shee…”

  One by one, Nember called each of the travelers forward to give an account of their journey. When Tamsin and Maurin had finished, a Shee guard brought Worrel, Rarn, and Corrim vin Halla into the hall. Worrel carried the Talisman of Noron’ri, which he handed to Nember before taking his place in the center of the floor. When Worrel finished his story, Nember placed the Talisman in the middle of the Lord Advisors’ table, where it could be seen by all the Shee lords, then called for Corrim vin Halla.

  Corrim’s story sent a ripple of dismay through the audience. He was followed by Illeana, regal and imperious in the Crown of the Veldatha, who confirmed what he had said and added some speculations on the strength of the Shadow-born. Finally the Lords finished their questioning, and the High Minister rose.

  “Members of the Council, you have heard the testimony. There is yet one thing lacking before your knowledge is complete.” He gestured, and a black-and-silver clad guard carrying a sheet of paper came forward. “This message was sent to the Queen yesterday from Firivar the Seer,” Nember went on, and nodded at the guard. The guard cleared his throat and began to read:

  “To Her Majesty Iniscara, Queen of Sheleran: The Runes of Change have spoken, and these are their portents: ‘An old darkness comes from the west, and if it move unopposed it will still the wind and flood and tree. Fire opposes and wind scatters; the mountains are cast down and the child of fire holds the source of power. In the end one will sit above the four once more, or all will lie in darkness.’ In Service to the Queen, Firivar.”

  Nember nodded again and the guard bowed and left. “Lords of Sheleran!” the High Minister said. “Now it is for you to speak, and choose what course we shall take. Shall we send aid to the humans of Brenn, against the Lithmern? And what shall be done with the Talisman of Noron’ri?” The silver staff rang once more, and the High Minister seated himself.

  After a moment’s silence, a Shee woman robed in blue rose and bowed to the Queen. “I see no reason why we should help one set of humans against another,” she said. “We have kept apart from their affairs this long; what reason now to change?”

  “My lady, the Lithmern fight with magic,” a young Shee lord in green said diffidently. “Is that not our concern?”

  The woman in blue shrugged. “If the Alkyrans have neglected the study of sorcery, that is their affair, not ours. Are we to spend our hard-won knowledge for them?”

  “Were that the only question, I would agree,” said a lord robed in white. “But Firivar’s prophecy speaks of an ‘old darkness out of the west’; surely this refers to the Shadow-born. I think, my lords, that the Shadow-born should be our first concern, and not the human city.”

  “I agree,” said a Shee woman robed in red. “Yet the two matters seem intertwined. Lithra has unbound the Shadow-born. Lithra is attacking Brenn, almost on our doorstep. I think our course is obvious.”

  “The Shadow-born are the true danger,” said another lord.

  “Yes, and the sooner we strike the easier they will be to deal with,” said the red-clad lady. “Or would you wait until their power reaches its full strength?”

  “There is strength in numbers as well as time,” another lady said pointedly. “When they reach Brenn, the Shadow-born will be together and able to support one another. If we wait until Lithra has conquered Alkyra, the Shadow-born will be spread out, and we can deal with them one at a time.”

  Har shifted angrily in his seat, and leaned over to Maurin and Alethia. “They talk as if nothing mattered but their own convenience!” he whispered.

  “Hush!” Alethia said. “I want to hear what he says.” She nodded at the floor, where Medilaw Robal was rising to speak.

  “My lords and ladies,” Medilaw began, bowing. “In so grave a matter, let us take time to consider. The Dark Men cannot cross the Kathkari; there is no need for us to hurry. We have sat through wars among the humans before; what need to leave our land now?”

  “The Shadow-born cannot cross the Kathkari, but their army can,” a Shee halfway down one side of the hall said loudly.

  Medilaw shrugged. “An army of humans. How should we fear them?”

  “Swords do not care whether the hand that wields them is Shee or human,” one of the other Lord Advisors said.

  “True indeed, my lord Herre,” Medilaw said. “But if you fear the humans so greatly, let us use the Talisman of Noron’ri to seal our borders against them.” He waved a negligent hand at the table where the Talisman lay, and some trick of light made the iron glint ominously.

  “Is it wise to keep a thing of such power that has been tainted by the Shadow-born?” one of the other lords asked.

  Medilaw looked annoyed. “It would be folly to destroy what we no longer possess the knowledge to make,” he said. “Besides, it is no danger to us. So long as we keep it in Eveleth, the Shadow-born cannot reach it.”

  “May not the Shadow-born have others?” said a Shee in yellow. “Worse, what if they discover the lost Gifts while we sit waiting? I do not like this plan of stopping and considering. Wisdom sometimes must make haste.”

  “I do not seek to keep us from action,” Medilaw said. “Only to prevent us from acting too quickly and making a grave mistake. You need not worry about the Talismans; the Lithmern can have no more of them, or the Veldatha would have detected them. Is this not so?” He turned toward Illeana, who nodded reluctantly.

  “As for the Gifts,” Medilaw went on, “they were lost two hundred years ago, by the same humans who now beg our aid.”

  “You forget, Medilaw, that we now have ties of blood in Brenn,” said a Shee in blue, looking significantly at Har and Alethia. “Shall we abandon our own?”

  “One who willfully abandoned her people may not expect aid from them in return,” Medilaw replied. “Yet you are right; they have some claim on us despite their human blood. We should offer them sanctuary among us until this matter is resolved.”

  Alethia leaped to her feet, eyes blazing. “What makes you think we want your sanctuary?”

  All along the hall, heads swiveled away from Medilaw toward the rear seats where the humans sat. Har rose to stand beside his sister, his agreement evident in his expression. Maurin hesitated, then remained in his chair. The Shee had not offered him shelter and Brenn was not his city; his support would matter little under such circumstances. He noticed that the minstrel, Tamsin, had remained seated as well, and looked no happier about it than he felt.

  “We didn’t come to ask for sanctuary,” Alethia continued angrily. “And we will not beg for help that is not offered freely. Keep your magic!”

  Around the hall, Shee murmured in approval, and Medilaw went pale.

  “A city of humans has no chance against the Shadow-born!” he said. “Without our help, you will die.”

  “Then we will at least die trying to do our duty,” Har said.

  Another approving murmur swept the hall. Medilaw, though plainly enraged, seemed to realize that he was losing the ground his earlier reason had gained. With visible effort, he shrugged and said coldly, “If you refuse our a
ssistance, there is no more to be said.”

  “Perhaps we will surprise you,” Alethia retorted. “Courage is no bad weapon against spells, or so I have learned.”

  Someone chuckled. Medilaw glared about the hall, white-faced and trembling. Then he snatched up the Talisman of Noron’ri from the table in front of him. “Half-breed human!” he cried, raising it aloft in both hands. “What good is your courage now?”

  Alethia stepped backward involuntarily. Maurin leapt to his feet and threw himself in front of her; an instant later Har joined him. Medilaw’s eyes never left Alethia. His lips parted in a grimace that might have been intended as a smile, and he spoke a single word.

  As the Shee councilors stared in frozen disbelief, a muddy little cloud formed above Medilaw’s head. Medilaw’s harsh grin widened, and he raised the Talisman higher and pointed at Alethia. The muddy cloud thickened and began to move forward.

  Automatically, Maurin reached for the sword he was not wearing. Cursing the rules that had forbidden him to carry a weapon, he started down the hall toward Medilaw. If he could get the Talisman away from him…

  One of the Lord Advisors seemed to have been struck with the same thought. Leaping to his feet, he wrenched the Talisman from Medilaw’s hands. The dark cloud quivered and evaporated. Medilaw howled, and in blind and unthinking rage attacked the purple-clad figure that had thwarted him.

  It was quickly evident that the other Lord Advisor was both younger and faster than the former High Minister. He had no trouble holding the enraged man for the brief time it took the palace guards to close on the table. Medilaw quickly vanished behind a wave of black and silver uniforms. A moment later he was led away, cursing hoarsely, and Maurin returned to his seat.

  In the shaken silence that followed, Iniscara spoke for the first time. “My thanks to you, Lord Advisor Herre,” she said quietly. “You will not find me ungrateful.”

  Lord Herre bowed. He laid the Talisman of Noron’ri on the Lord Advisors’ table once more, then returned to his chair. The silence continued while the Shee lords and ladies stared at the Talisman. Then Iniscara rose to her feet, and her voice rang clearly in the still room.