A Shaper's Birthright

by Karen MacRae

  Behind the door marked ‘no entry’, Urchit was writing on a tiny piece of paper. The message, to be sent by bird, read ‘E+ Ion 5+. CM X.’ The carriage would indeed meet Elona and her team at Nestry’s house, but the boat would not have an easy passage. If they survived, they wouldn’t reach Ionantis until Fifthday at the earliest. As a bonus, he’d got them to take out one of their own, or as near as damn it. It had been only a matter of days before Cantry Millan had turned. Vixen would be pleased.

  In the lounge, Pyteor and Nijel avoided eye contact with Elona as Mystrim untied their bonds. They were mightily relieved she hadn’t already taken her revenge on their being stupid enough to be identified and captured by Urchit. They would be amazed to know that she hadn’t given it a moment’s thought after her initial anger. The businessman was way out of their league; they didn’t stand a chance.

  The two young men trailed behind their superiors as they walked back to the house in complete silence. Nijel nudged Pyteor. “She’s not angry?” he whispered. Pyteor just shrugged. He knew she’d use it against them at some stage. She wouldn’t be able to help herself.

  Midday and a carriage ride later, the spies and their slaves found themselves being pointed down a steep, rocky slope to an ancient fishing boat anchored just off a small, wind-beaten bay somewhere north of town. Mystrim told Pyteor to help Sifry and received a baleful stare in return before the young man did as he was told, muttering under his breath about the indignity of playing wet nurse to a cripple.

  He was still muttering when he finally got the gnarly old man onto the knackered old boat. He wasn’t paying a lot of attention but caught the skipper telling Elona and Mystrim they were to stay below and silent so shoved Sifry and the slaves towards the hatch into the hold quite happily, glad to be relieved of his task. His pleasure evaporated when he heard the sound of rusty bolts being drawn then heavy crates being piled on top and all around their only exit. Seriously?

  “This is madness,” Mystrim whispered.

  “I don’t trust him either, but what choice did we have? We couldn’t take the ferry,” hissed Elona, relieved at least to find her abandoned clothes and weapons were waiting for her Urchit had promised. She’d have kept them, if she’d been him and planning to stab them in the back.

  They were woken by the sound of another boat coming alongside. Loud, unintelligible shouts were followed by more muted conversation. Then, the sound they had feared: the crates being moved and bolts being drawn back long before they’d reached their destination. Sifry stifled a groan of pain as he made the slaves be silent while Elona drew her blades and Mystrim pulled heat from the air. Pyteor had an image of the hold ready just in time. The hatch opened and a face peered down from above.

  “Nothing there, Captain. Just cargo. About three quarters full. Shall I go down?” There was a muffled reply. “Right you are, sir,” the man said before closing the hatch.

  It was a good ten minutes more before the King’s Coastguard left the small boat. The skipper stuck his head over the hatch. “All clear. Sorry for the scare. They changed the rota. We’ll be putting the crates back now in case we run into another patrol. Is there anything you need?”

  “Nothing, thank you,” Elona shouted back. “But if it happens again, I’ll take great pleasure in slitting your throat when we get to Ionantis,” she added under her breath.

  The next twenty-four hours were uneventful. Nijel was the first to detect all was not well. “My blanket’s soaking. Light! There’s water getting in somewhere!”

  “Up and bang on that hatch, boy!” ordered Mystrim. Nijel was up the ladder in a flash. The knocks went unanswered. “They can’t hear through the cargo. Bang harder!”

  While Nijel was hammering on the hatch door, the others were trying to trace the leak. They finally found a hole in the hull near where the Healer had made a space for himself. It looked like the boat had caught a rock: water was gushing through a gap in the planks.

  On deck, the skipper watched the crew pull his daughter inside the small lifeboat. She waved a thumbs up to him. A fire would have been a more certain execution, but the smoke would have drawn the King’s patrols and possible rescue so a hole it had had to be. The skipper felt a bit sorry for the old boat, but he was perfectly happy to sacrifice it to get rid of enemies of The Kingdom. Plus, of course, Urchit would recompense him handsomely. He threw the rest of his things down to the lifeboat and left his old Bess to the waves.

  In the hold, everyone was shouting, but no one came to help. Curiously, Nijel was the only one keeping his cool. “We aren’t going to get through the hatch. We either have to make a new hole higher up to avoid letting more water in or widen the existing one and escape that way. Can everyone swim?”

  Only himself, the newer slave and Pyteor were competent swimmers.

  “Mystrim, can you control water at all?”

  “Not unless it’s falling from the sky.”

  “Right, we need to break up some of these crates so we can get some large pieces of wood through the hole. We can use them as floats. Boxes first, with as much rope as we can find attached to it, then the hole. Can anyone think of anything we can use to block it for now?”

  “I can,” Elona growled. She waded through the knee-deep water and stuck a knife through the heart of the groom who couldn’t swim. She tossed the scrawny woman over her shoulder and arranged her body so her back and buttocks covered the gash in the side. “She can’t swim and she can’t cook. She can at least save our necks.”

  The body was a surprisingly good fit and the water ingress slowed to a trickle.

  “There’s no need to go outside. The water’s stopped,” Mystrim exclaimed happily.

  “For now, but even if it doesn’t get worse, there’s no wind. We’re just drifting. Can’t you feel it?” Nijel asked. “They’ve abandoned ship. We could be stuck here for days.”

  “If it’s calm enough and we’ve stopped the leak, how about you and Pyteor go out the hole and climb on board? Move those crates up on deck.”

  “Make the hole big enough for us to get out without flooding the hold and sinking the boat with the rest of you in it?” the teenager asked in astonishment.

  “Oh, right. It’d be that quick, would it?”

  “Do you really want to risk it?”

  Mystrim turned away, embarrassed. He got back to prising sides off crates with his short sword.

  When there was a good pile of thick wooden pallets, the group looked for a weak spot above the water line. There was nothing; they’d have to use the existing hole. Nijel paired everyone up so each non-swimmer had help from a swimmer. He warned everyone to dump anything that might weigh them down and told the non-swimmers to carry water with them. Elona and Mystrim nearly rebelled at the idea of abandoning their valuables and weapons, but looming death persuaded them they’d best do as instructed.

  Pyteor and Elona shoved the slave’s body away from the gaping planks and began to prise them wider apart. By the time it was big enough, the water was waist deep. They shoved the wooden pallets through the hole and prayed they wouldn’t float too far away.

  As the best swimmer, Nijel was first through. He held onto the edges of the hole from the outside then pulled an emerging Elona to the surface. Once she was safely clutching a float, he began retrieving the other pallets which he left the Reader to tie together. Pyteor and Mystrim made it up safely just behind them and Pyteor helped to ferry more of the pallets to their growing raft. No one noticed that Sifry and the remaining slave were taking a long time to appear.

  In the hold, the accountant had panicked at the fast-rising water. He’d used his gift on the girl then taken a last breath of air. “You will save me, no matter the cost,” he’d told her. What he hadn’t foreseen was that she thought the best way to save him was to lift him higher in the hold so his face was almost touching the ceiling. She tread water holding the smaller man up, stopping him from getting to the hole. “Let me go, you idiot. Let me go!” Of course this instruction ha
d him sinking like a stone. With his breath running out, his fingers found the edge of the hole and he pulled himself out of the boat. He saw the moon above him and kicked his aching legs for the surface. He ran out of air long before he got there.

  CHAPTER 10

  En route to Theatis

  T he rain had made it a miserable two days. It seemed it would never stop so Anna was particularly relieved they’d woken to clear skies this morning. All this wet had her coming down with a cold or something - she’d been feeling increasingly off colour with each mile they’d travelled. She’d tried to Heal herself, but it hadn’t worked. Perhaps it would only work once the sneezing had actually started.

  She stopped outside the stables to admire the view of the morning sun lighting up Valteira and its foothills, feeling a strange affinity for the volcano. She shook it off and went to get Hope. She found her in with Blue, as per usual. No surprise there. Blue’s gorgeous emerald green aura mingled with Hope’s beautiful pale green as they nuzzled happily. They’d been separated while Finn had been pursuing the money ring in Alscombe and were still catching up.

  “Have they always been like that?” Malik asked, paused in the doorway behind her.

  She smiled. “Since the beginning. It’s the reason I’m here. I’d decided to leave Spider and Sy, but Blue was desperately unhappy without Hope. I couldn’t do it to him.”

  Malik nodded. “You do breed some remarkable horses here.” Almost to himself, he added, “Gifted galore and horses who can outwit the average soldier. No wonder Nystrieth wants to wipe you off the map.” He watched Anna lead Hope out of the stall and gave her a hand to lift her saddle into position.

  “Why does he hate the gifted so much, Master Brewcherrion?”

  “Malik, please.”

  The Mastran smiled and his purple aura shimmered, almost taking her breath away. “Malik,” she said shyly.

  The spy pretended not to notice her reaction. “In answer to your question, no one seems to know for sure. I’ve heard it said that something from his childhood turned him against us, but others say it’s because of the way Shapers have been persecuted. Maybe it’s both. Or maybe it’s something entirely different. Who can know the mind of a madman?”

  Finn arrived to get Blue. “Less chat, more hustle, Cherry. The next Post is a long way off.”

  “Says the man who’s last in the stable.”

  “I’ll still beat you outside.”

  “Ten silvers on it!”

  “You know I don’t gamble, you miscreant. Honestly, you and…”

  “Done!” came a voice from outside.

  “Spider,” finished Finn, shaking his head in amusement.

  A few minutes later, Malik was complaining he was going to be broke before they finished the mission. “It’s got to be cheating to have a horse that actually helps get his kit on.” Blue shook his head and neighed loudly. Malik laughed. “Yes, I know, Blue. It’s my own fault. I should have bought a horse as smart as you.”

  “Is there such a thing?” asked Sy.

  Anna saw the quiet appreciation in Hope’s aura as her beau was praised. She thought, perhaps, that yes, yes there was.

  The rest of the morning was spent in relative silence. The rain had returned, albeit as drizzle, but it was the kind that seemed to find its way into every gap. Anna was feeling tense and headachy with what felt like bees having taken up residence in her limbs. She tried once more to Heal herself, but she had no more luck than on the previous attempts. If anything, it made her feel worse. She looked around for someone to talk to, to distract herself, but tightly drawn hoods prevented conversation. Not for the first time, she found herself going over the things she’d learned in the past week. She wondered if Finn had been ordered to put her above the others in the group. She wondered if his number two, Seleste, had been told likewise. Seleste… the assassin. She thought of the rare occasions she’d been tempted to use her power simply because it felt good rather than it was the right thing to do. Was this the first step to Black? Was that why Seleste had been her companion since arriving at Alsham? Did the King think Anna might still turn? Unlike the others, Seleste would see it happening and Anna wouldn’t see a friend’s blade before it was too late, if at all.

  The very idea of being Black made Anna feel sick. If she was turning, she wouldn’t stop the knife. She’d welcome it. A small internal voice laughed at her. No you wouldn’t, it said. What Black would kill herself rather than another? Suddenly, the King’s reasoning seemed sound. Was that her oath, she wondered? Did the King’s gift mean she couldn’t even question his thinking?

  What a jumble, she thought. She was to be protected at all costs but killed if she turned. Her oath meant that she might even help them do it, if she hadn’t actually turned. But could a Black Shaper even be sworn to the King? Would turning break her oath or would the oath prevent her turning? Hold on… would they be able to use the King’s oath against Nystrieth?

  She took Finn to one side as soon as they stopped for the night. “Is something wrong?” he said, his strange mirror effect switching his sea green aura to her white as he looked at her.

  “I need to try to break the King’s Oath,” she told him.

  “You what?” he said, shocked.

  Anna saw anxiety flush her reflected aura as she realised she’d made a mess of broaching the subject. She rushed to explain. “What if it can’t be broken? What if it’s enough to stop Nystrieth? I know I can impose it on him if I can get close enough.”

  Finn nodded his understanding. “It’s a good idea, but he broke my oath in Alscombe the other night as if it needed no more effort than squashing an ant.”

  “But he could see your oath. He wouldn’t be able to see his own.”

  “He doesn’t need to see to Shape. Or not well, at least. The light was terrible in the meeting room and it could hardly have helped to be seeing through Sesi’s eyes, but he managed to kill a man and make another fall into ecstasies with no problems at all.”

  Anna’s head went down, disheartened. “I could kill someone without seeing, but I couldn’t do the other things. He’s better than me.”

  “No, not better, just different and more experienced. From what we’ve learned from Bojek, he can’t Heal himself or others. That gives us an edge. And you’re still learning what you can and can’t do. Perhaps you won’t need to see either, once you’ve got more experience?”

  Anna shrugged. “I can’t Heal myself properly unless I can see my aura and that’s only when you’re around. The rest of the time, I have to flood my entire aura with energy. I can’t even begin to think how I could Shape a tiny part of someone’s aura when I can’t see the right place to do it.”

  Finn put his hand on her shoulder. “There’s still time, Anna, and you’re not on your own. We’re a team.”

  She wasn’t listening. She looked back up at him, excited. “It doesn’t remove the King’s Oath.”

  “What doesn’t?” he asked, amused.

  “When I Heal myself, it’s still there afterwards. The oath. My aura must accept it as a part of me that’s supposed to be there. Bits that don’t belong are burned away.”

  “And?” asked Finn, not following her logic.

  “Perhaps he can remove a King’s Oath from someone else, but not from himself? Perhaps he won’t be able to detect it’s even there?”

  Finn looked thoughtful. “Interesting,” he murmured. “So what do you propose, King’s Shaper?” he asked formally.

  “Let me look at my aura for a while, please?”

  The others noticed Finn and Anna staring at each other, but only Seleste could see they both had the same aura: white, with an almost undetectable, tiny, golden badge over their hearts. Nothing seemed to happen for several minutes, but then she saw the badge begin to unravel. Her mouth dropped open. Anna was breaking the King’s Oath. And Finn was helping her. She looked closer and saw the thinnest of golden threads looping from the badge to the crystal hanging around Anna’s neck. As the las
t of the light disappeared, Anna cried out as if stabbed. The white auras were awash with grief.

  Finn remembered his overwhelming sense of loss when Nystrieth had broken his oath and felt guilty for not warning the girl. She might not have tried it, though, had she known. “It goes away, Anna. Hang on,” he told her.

  The Shaper drew in several slow, deep breaths, fighting to get herself under control. “How did he not see what you felt, Finn? How could he not tell you were a spy?”

  “I tried to hide it, but I’m sure my mother would have seen through the act in a split second. He’s either not too hot at Reading or he didn’t bother to look. He left straight afterwards so we have to assume the latter, in which case he can’t possibly understand its true nature. He must look upon it like any oath: to his mind, something to be broken when it’s no longer convenient.”

  “In which case, his own oath might not be as strong as the King’s,” added Anna, thinking of the intricate black mark hidden behind Mistress Manson’s King’s Oath.

  “I doubt anything is,” Finn agreed.

  Seleste sat beside them. She’d worked out their purpose without being told. “Can you break it without seeing it?” she asked.

  “I’ll let you know in a few minutes.” Anna put her hand around Lady Braxton’s medallion and closed her eyes. “My life for The Kingdom. My life for the King,” she whispered. Almost instantly, she felt the familiar comfort of belonging and love return but sent her gift into her own aura to destroy it. Despite the fact she knew the golden badge hung over her heart, she couldn’t feel a thing out of place. “It’s not there. I can’t find it!” she said excitedly.

  Seleste frowned. “But you said it willingly, Anna. Would it feel so benign to Nystrieth?”

  Anna opened her mouth to argue against the assassin’s negativity but had to concede she had a good point. “You’re right. I felt Mistress Manson try to impose Nystrieth’s oath on me and the King himself trying to impose his oath on me when we first met during that stupid pretence of a battle.”