The Acolyte: Magicians of the Beyond

by Victoria Murata

  “Quite a few of the vendors are hoping the Countess will be interested in their wares. If she likes what they’re selling, she might contract with them for regular deliveries or invite them back to the castle. I’ve heard she’s a hard sell, though. She likes to dicker, and she needs to feel like she’s getting a bargain.”

  Danica nodded. “I think it’s a good idea to price high like Jimmu said. That way when we do sell to her at a lower price, she’ll feel like she’s put one over on us. If she feels like she’s made herself a good deal, her guard will go down and she’ll be more open. Then her mind will be easy to probe. Maybe I can get her to do something she otherwise wouldn’t.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like divulge information she should keep to herself. Or like giving me a tour of the castle.” Danica scoffed. “Maybe she’ll invite me to dinner with the family.”

  Emma said, “You’re so cool and calm about all of this. Is it that easy for you to get into someone’s head?”

  “It’s easy to get in. It’s not always easy to make sense out of the confusion unless someone is extremely deliberate.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Danica sighed. This is so hard to explain. “It’s easiest for me to describe it like this. I have my own way of thinking. Of processing information and experiences. Sometimes my thinking is linear, but most often it’s random. Memories, images, projections, expectations, worries, impulses, emotions—all of that is a jumble, but it’s my jumble and I’m comfortable with it. I’m used to it. If I would stop to analyze it, I could probably predict how and when my thinking would be taking a specific direction. When I’m aware of how I’m thinking or what I’m thinking about, I can direct it.”

  “Like if you’re worried about something and you want to stop worrying.”

  “Right. So, I have control over my thoughts if I put my mind to it—so to speak.”

  There was raucous laughter from a nearby table and Emma had to speak up. “So, what’s difficult about reading someone else’s thoughts?”

  “Mostly because I’m in foreign territory. I’m not comfortable there. It’s like listening to an orchestra tune up. All the different instruments playing different notes. It’s haphazard and erratic. Unless the person has some thought uppermost in his mind, I end up having to sift through all the debris. It takes a lot of concentration to filter all the chaos, and if I do it too much, it makes my head hurt.”

  “Does your head hurt now?”

  “Yes. After a couple of hours of concentration, I’ve got a good headache.”

  Emma reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. You have the hardest job, Danica.”

  “Food usually helps unless my headache is really bad. Then I get nauseated if I eat. It’s not too bad right now.”

  Emma frowned slightly. “Don’t people usually have a goal or intention they’re thinking about. Something they’re doing or want to do?”

  “Sometimes. I’ve gotten practiced at finding the primary thoughts more quickly. Nella was easy. She wanted to come to Crown City because she’s sweet on a man and she’s tired of working for her parents. Her mother wasn’t easy. She had lots of thoughts colliding together with some memories, a few worries, and some expectations. It was all jumbled up.”

  “How do you influence someone to do something? Do you steer their thoughts somehow?”

  “I put a thought into their head, and I impress it until they believe it’s their idea. Sometimes it’s easier if the person is tired or drunk or young or not smart.”

  “Are there people whose minds you can’t get into?”

  “Most of the time I don’t want to read minds. I don’t like intruding into someone’s privacy, and it can be exhausting for me. I can’t get into the Coverts’ minds, or Phil’s unless they let me in. I’ve tried to read Jimmu’s mind because he’s so closed and I never know what he’s thinking, but it’s like knocking on a door made of smoke.”

  Emma colored slightly as she asked, “How about Beau? What does he think about?”

  Danica smiled. “I haven’t read his mind. He’s pretty transparent.”

  “He’s so handsome!” Emma sighed.

  “He is, and he’s a good dresser, too.”

  The young women giggled, and Danica reached out and took Emma’s hand. She looked at her friend fondly. “I think Beau has a partner, Emma.”

  “Are you talking about Casmir?” Emma said.

  “Yes. They seem pretty close.”

  “I know. But a girl can always hope.”

  They laughed again. “Here’s Jimmu,” Emma said as she spied him coming through the doorway.

  Danica turned to see him walking towards them and she felt instant relief. He nodded to them and pulled up a chair. Resting his forearms on the table, he glanced around and then said quietly, “I found Wolf Wood. It’s an hour’s ride from here. It may be harder than you think to find your mother’s grave, Danica. The woods are pretty thick.” He looked at them both expectantly. “What did you discover today?”

  “Our plan to sell our silk high tomorrow is a good one. I’m sure we’ll be invited into the castle,” Emma said. “No one I talked to is selling fine fabric.”

  Jimmu nodded and looked at Danica, eyebrows raised. “I saw the blacksmith from Master Stefan’s cards. He’s going to a secret meeting tonight at midnight. It’s some kind of planning meeting to overpower the Count after Bacchanal. I’m going to be at that meeting.”

  “I’m going with you,” Jimmu said.

  “Me too,” Emma echoed.

  “No, Emma. It’s too dangerous for all three of us to be there. If something goes wrong, we would all be in trouble. If you stay back and something happens to me and Danica, you’ll be free to find a way to help us.”

  Emma nodded grudgingly. Just then Ansa walked up with a large tray. She set mugs of ale and bowls of stew on the table, and a loaf of coarse dark bread. She looked at Emma. “I saw your friend join you and figured he’d want stew too.”

  “Thanks, Ansa.” She grabbed the girl’s wrist as she turned to go, drawing her close and speaking softly. “We’re new here. I’ve heard Crown City is divided in its support of the Count. Is that true?”

  Ansa paused, and a moment went by while she decided whether to trust Emma. “Yes, it’s true. The city’s divided because many are paid in different ways to be spies and informers. But if truth be told, no one likes Count Gurdyn. He’s an imposter and everyone knows it. It’s his Magician everyone is afraid of. There’s the real power behind the crown.”

  “Are you talking about Dumone?”

  “None other.”

  “How is he powerful?”

  Ansa leaned in and spoke quietly. “Some say he can turn himself into a fire-breathing bird that flies over the city and perches on rooftops. He overhears conversations and reports back to Count Gurdyn. I’ve heard tell he has a magic globe that lets him see into the future. No one is safe from his eyes and ears. And he has a wild cat as a pet.” She straightened and looked at them appraisingly. “I hear things from Wolksey and Rone and some of the guards. They get to drinking and their tongues get loose. I know things, but it’ll cost you. I’ve already said too much,” and she turned and went back into the kitchen.

  “I’ll have a talk with her while you’re at your midnight meeting,” Emma said. “I’ll pry her lips loose with some coin and see what I can learn.”

  They dug into their stew and before they were finished, Emma looked up at someone with bright red hair entering the pub and said, “Here comes Nella.”

  Nella spotted them and walked over and found a chair. As she sat down, she said, “Nice pub. Did you get a room?” Her hair was riotous, and her freckles stood out in a pixie-like face.

  “Yes. You?” Emma asked, motioning for Ansa to bring another mug of ale to the table.

  “I’m staying with a friend.” Danica could see the image of the dark young man in Nella’s mind.

  “Nella, we’ll have a table set up in th
e courtyard early tomorrow for the Bacchanal. Are you going to be around?”

  “Yes, I’ll be helping Danyl’s mum sell her biscuits and jam. He’s the guard I told you about.”

  Ansa set a mug in front of Nella who tipped it up and downed nearly the whole thing.

  “You mentioned tunnels connecting many of the public buildings in Crown City. Are there tunnels in the castle?”

  “My friend Danyl told me about them, but he said they’re not used any longer.”

  “Do you think you can show them to me tomorrow? There’s coin in it for you,” Emma said.

  “How much?” Nella asked slyly, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

  “Twenty cretars.”

  Danica sensed Nella’s mind calculating whether she should try to get more. Finally, she said, “I’ll be free in the afternoon and I’ll find you. Danyl can get us into the castle dungeon. From there you can travel through tunnels in many directions. People will be distracted with the Bacchanal so we shouldn’t be noticed.”

  Danica nudged Emma’s foot under the table and looked at her pointedly. She placed a suggestion in Emma’s mind and Emma turned to Nella and said, “If I can’t get away, then you’ll take Nica,” nodding toward Danica. “She understands some of the common tongue but she’s shy about trying to speak it.”

  Nella gave Danica a once-over. “It’s all the same to me.”

  “Good, then we’ll see you tomorrow in the courtyard. Do you want some stew?”

  “No thanks, I’ve eaten, and I need to go. I told Danyl I wouldn’t be long.”

  Again, the image of the young man was prominent in Nella’s mind, and Danica had to admit he was handsome. Nella stood up and quickly finished her ale.

  “Thanks for the drink.”

  Before they went up to their room, Emma questioned Ansa about the location of prominent buildings in Crown City, including the mill, and she arranged to meet with the girl later when Ansa finished working. Jimmu suggested they all try to get a few hours’ sleep, and even though they saw the wisdom in that, no one could even think about sleeping. Jimmu paced the few steps back and forth across the floor. Emma sat in the only chair at the table, preoccupied with her thoughts, and Danica sat crosswise on the bed, her knees drawn up and her back resting against the wall. She closed her eyes and tried to relax.

  Ansa had spoken the truth about the division in the city. When Danica had been in the streets earlier, she had probed many minds and found much anticipation about the Bacchanal, and thoughts of treachery, greed, treason, fear, and cunning. She was exhausted. She knew she should sleep but her mind was racing with all they had learned, and all they had to do.

  Where is the young girl with the amethyst eyes from Master Stefan’s cards? How will I find my mother’s grave? What’s going to happen at this meeting later? How can I gain the trust of the blacksmith?

  She willed herself to breathe slowly. After every in-breath she held it and counted to four, and after each out-breath she counted again. Deliberately she let go of every distracting thought, one by one. Her meditation practice had taught her that often answers would come if she cleared the clutter from her mind, and so she did this now. Every time a thought came, she gave it wings and sent it on its way. Soon her mind was empty, and she was peaceful. She concentrated on her breath. Just breathe.

  “Danica. Danica wake up,” Emma said softly. Danica opened her eyes and found herself stretched out on the bed. It was dark outside the window. She sat up and looked at Emma.

  “It’s late,” Jimmu said from the chair at the table.

  Danica rubbed her hands over her face. She looked at Jimmu. “We need to go now. The meeting has been compromised and many could die.”

  “How do you know this?” Jimmu asked.

  “I heard it this afternoon in the jumbled thoughts of the man who was in the pub with the blacksmith. It didn’t make a clear impression until I fell asleep. The blacksmith is in danger and we must protect him.”

  “The blacksmith?”

  “The man I saw in the cards at Master Stefan’s. I feel he’s important.”

  Jimmu didn’t question her further. “Let’s go,” he said. He grabbed a length of rope from his pack and tied one end to a metal ring in the heavy door. He looked out the window to the narrow alley below. No one was around, and he threw the remaining rope out the window. “We don’t want to be seen leaving the inn, so we’ll leave this way and return the same way.”

  Danica removed her dark contact lenses and tied her hair back. Then Jimmu used the rope to slide down the side of the inn, and Danica followed. When they were both on the ground, Emma untied the rope and threw it down. Jimmu collected it and the two moved off, melting into the darkness.

  Thirty-One

  Jimmu and Danica planned to arrive at the mill early. They couldn’t pass through the gate because the guards would want to detain them since it was past curfew. Even though it would be easy for Jimmu and Danica to overpower them, they didn’t want to raise an alarm and have the castle guards on high alert. That would only make their mission more difficult. Jimmu told Danica and Emma that when he went on his ride earlier, he had seen an orchard between the east gate where they had entered the city and the smaller south gate. This is where they would be able to get over the wall.

  When they reached the orchard, they easily scaled an old apple tree growing close to the castle wall. Jimmu tied one end of the rope to a thick branch before he leaped to the top of the wall. Danica followed. The height of the wall on the outside was quite a bit more than on the inside. He threw the other end of the rope over the wall, and once it was near the ground, they wasted no time using it to climb down.

  “We can leave the rope here to climb back up, but we need to be back before first light. We don’t want anyone noticing it.”

  Danica nodded and they set out through a wide meadow, avoiding the road where the Count’s guards patrolled. The mill was outside of Crown City on the river, and it took them a quarter hour of mostly running to get there.

  Silvery moonlight played over dry stalks of wheat and corn as they jogged through fields that now lay barren, their harvests having been collected. The air was frigid, and frost was forming. The moon, a crescent in the dark sky, afforded little light. After a while they heard the river and knew they were close. Jimmu stopped suddenly and pointed to a large structure barely discernable in the darkness ahead. A massive wheel churned up water adding to the cacophony of the river as it plummeted southwest on its course. He pointed to the right and they soundlessly walked around the mill to the back of it. They stopped, listening for any sound, but all was silent. They spied the copse of trees where the meeting would take place.

  Jimmu motioned for Danica to follow, and they stepped into the trees. What little light they had grown accustomed to disappeared, and the dark was absolute. They moved stealthily, senses alert to any sound or movement. Danica kept her hand on Jimmu’s tunic, and after a brief time, she pulled on it. He stopped and turned to her. She drew him close and pointed to the southeast and then to her ear, and he understood that she had heard something. They both remained still until the sound Danica had heard repeated. A man’s voice softly broke into the silence and then was quiet. Jimmu moved in the direction of the sound with Danica following.

  As they drew nearer, they discerned a faint light ahead and voices became more distinct, speaking assertively. Soon Jimmu and Danica came to a place where the trees thinned, and they could see two forms ahead. They moved closer and hid behind a tree to watch and listen. Two men were conversing quietly in the small clearing. One held a torch that barely gave off light.

  “The others will be arriving shortly, Lucas. Let’s go over the plan,” one said.

  “Day after Bacchanal, your men will be stationed in the courtyard. My men will enter the castle dressed as priests. It will be early, so the Count and his family will be inside at their breakfast. Kemmet’s men will be inside, in the kitchen. Bess will let you in through the s
cullery door.”

  Even in the dark, Danica recognized the second man’s voice as the blacksmith she had heard in the inn. She probed their minds and found they were old and trusted friends.

  “What about the guards inside? How will you get past them?” the first man asked.

  “We’ll be on our way to the chapel for Lauds. The priests have prayers inside, so we’ll be left alone. And the guards will most likely be hung-over from Bacchanal.”

  “What about the real priests?”

  “They support us. They were only too happy to give us the robes we need for the disguises. The Countess allows the priests in six times a day. She used to allow the whole lot of them in, and over the years she’s reduced the number. Only four go in now.”

  Danica touched Jimmu’s sleeve. He turned and looked at her and then nodded. They stood up and stepped quietly out from behind the tree and walked into the clearing. When the two men saw them, they drew their weapons.

  “Who are you and what’s your business?” the blacksmith said menacingly.

  Danica stepped in front of Jimmu and drew the glass pyramid from her pocket. She held out her hand and it glowed with a blue light in the middle of her palm. The light steadily increased until it illuminated the four of them and they could see each other clearly. She moved the pyramid close to her face, and her blue eyes seemed to glow preternaturally.

  “Don’t be afraid, Lucas. We are friends,” she said in Lymonian.

  “Astrid!” the blacksmith cried. He fell to his knees and took her hands.

  Danica knelt in front of him so he could see and hear her clearly. “No, I am not Astrid back from the dead. I am Danica, daughter of Astrid, and I am here to tell you and your friends that you are in grave danger. You have been betrayed, and your friends will be killed if you don’t act quickly.” Her eyes never left his and when she probed his mind, she found he trusted her.

  “You are the answer to the prophesy,” his voice broke.

  She drew him up. “Yes. This is Jimmu. We’ve come from far away to help you save your city.”