Unguilded

by Jane Glatt

  “Behind me,” Reo said.

  She slipped behind him as he walked through the door.

  “That’s far enough, Assassin,” a voice said. A woman’s voice.

  Kara felt the sweat chill on her skin. The mage mist that had greeted them was a vaguely familiar purple. She peeked over Reo’s shoulder and sucked in her breath.

  “Reo, what have you done?” she whispered, horrified to see her mother, Arabella Fonti, staring down at them from the front of the room.

  Purple mage mist swirled around Arabella’s cloaked figure, and mage lights hovered overhead, creating a spotlight that shone directly on her. Arabella Fonti peered out into the darker end of the room. One hand gestured, and a mage light flew towards Kara and Reo.

  “Be quiet,” Reo whispered. “She doesn’t know I brought you.” The mage light stopped and hovered over them, illuminating the fury on Reo’s face. “She wants you dead.”

  “I know,” Kara said. And she had known, but this proved it.

  Her mother had never believed she’d survive long enough to find her way to another country—to live a happy, safe life. And Reo didn’t know who he was dealing with. Her mother wanted her own daughter dead—she wouldn’t hesitate to kill the Assassin she’d hired to do it.

  “What are you whispering about, Assassin?” Arabella Fonti asked. She made another hand gesture, and a wisp of mage mist flowed their way.

  Before it reached them, Kara stepped out from behind Reo and into the light.

  “What are you doing?” He grabbed her arm just as she swept the mage mist aside.

  “Making sure that the spell she just released doesn’t touch you,” Kara said. She shook his hand off and took a step forward.

  “Hello, Mother,” Kara said.

  From behind her she heard Reo’s sharp intake of breath, while at the front of the room, her mother glared down at her.

  “Why did you bring her?” Arabella said.

  “Reo’s angry with me and trying to prove a point,” Kara replied.

  Reo stepped up beside her, and she glanced over at him.

  “You once told me that when an Assassin starts their training they are dead to their family. But at least your family hasn’t tried to kill you. That’s twice now, isn’t it, Mother?”

  “I told you to never call me that,” Arabella said. “I may have given birth to you, but you are not my daughter.”

  “Yes, I’ve learned that the hard way,” Kara replied. Now that she was actually confronting her mother, she felt calm. “It was Noula, wasn’t it? She’s the one who told you I was alive and in the city.”

  “Noula, yes.” Arabella’s voice was full of contempt. “She’s pathetic. She’ll do anything for that brat of hers. As if Banio Fonti’s child is of any interest to me.”

  “Where is he?” Kara asked, worried. Her mother wouldn’t care what happened to Osten.

  “Why should you care?” Arabella sneered. “Oh, of course, he’s your half-brother.” She smiled a slow, dangerous smile. “That’s a nice touch. I’ll have to thank the Assassin for that. Your last thoughts will be about the horrible existence that child will have because of your failure. You should have died on the road, like you were supposed to.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t oblige you, Mother.”

  “I haven’t taken the commission,” Reo said. “Nor will I.”

  “I understand that,” Arabella replied. Her gaze swept over the two of them. “Well, that is interesting.” She leaned forward a little. “I suppose I must give the girl a tiny bit of credit for bedding one of Rillidi’s best Assassins. I’m not sure what you see in her, but it does not matter to me. You have saved me a considerable amount of expense and trouble. You don’t think you can walk out of here alive, do you?”

  “As a matter of fact I do,” Kara replied. She took hold of Reo’s arm. “Stay close,” she whispered. “Don’t take a step unless I tell you to.”

  “It’s sad, really,” Arabella said. “Killing you won’t even be a challenge, and the Assassin won’t get close enough to pose any real danger.” She eyed Reo. “A shame too. He is lovely.”

  Arabella formed a ball of mage mist and hurled it towards them. When it was close, Kara raised her arm and—as though she was ridding Santos of a curse—swept it aside. It spun towards the stone wall and hit it with a burst of sparks.

  Arabella frowned and sent another spell, and Kara deflected it, too. Her mother’s spells came faster, but Kara waved her hands and sent them spinning away from her and Reo.

  “What are you doing?” Arabella asked.

  The mage mist was less and less dense—the power of each spell weakening—until a wisp of magic she sent their way dissipated even before it reached them.

  “You’re tired, Mother,” Kara said. “Your spells are losing power.” She squinted and frowned. A thin band of dark grey and purple mage mist trailed away from her mother and out under a closed door.

  “I have more than enough power to destroy you,” Arabella said.

  “No,” Kara said. “Someone is draining your power. Can’t you feel it?”

  “No one would dare,” Arabella said. “Not from me.”

  “I can see it,” Kara said. “I have a talent after all—I can see magic.”

  “That’s impossible,” Arabella said. “And even if you can, it doesn’t sound very useful.”

  “You’d be surprised how useful it is,” Reo said.

  “You believe her.” Arabella settled back against the desk. “Do you think avoiding spells is enough to get you off Mage Guild Island safely?”

  “I can do more than see magic, Mother,” Kara replied.

  Reo tightened his grip on her hand, and she winced. What was he doing?

  “I can tell whose magic it is. I met the person who’s draining your magic when you both came to Villa Larona. Valerio Valendi is siphoning off your power.”

  “He would never,” Arabella said.

  Kara could see the doubt in her mother’s eyes even from where she stood. Then Arabella laughed.

  “If Valerio’s magic is near me, it’s no doubt because I’m carrying his child.” She pulled the fabric of her robe tight across her bulging belly. “We already expect our child to have great power—perhaps it will also be able to see magic.”

  “Were you jealous of me?” Kara asked. Santos had admitted to being curious about her—their—bloodline. Was that something Valerio Valendi shared?

  “Jealous of you?” Arabella laughed. “An insignificant, untalented, villa girl? Not likely.”

  “Yes, you were,” Kara said. “That’s the real reason I was a problem, wasn’t it? Why I was your problem. Valerio Valendi thought I might have some latent talent that I could pass on to a child—his child—but you wanted to be the one to bear it. When I had no magic, you didn’t think enough about me to care whether I lived or died. Until you thought I would be in your way.”

  “Now that won’t matter,” Arabella said. “You’ll never leave here alive.”

  “Do you want her to die?” Reo asked.

  Kara paused. Did she want her mother to die?

  “You, kill me?” Arabella’s laugh rang out in the room. “You realize where you are, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Reo replied, his mouth tight. “But Kara has said that your magic is weakening.” He turned to Kara. “I am truly sorry. I will do everything I can to get you to safety, though I fear even giving my life won’t be enough.”

  “How touching,” Arabella drawled. “I didn’t realize Assassins were so dramatic. You should die just for that.” She flicked her fingers, and a wisp of mage mist sped towards him.

  Kara stepped in front of Reo and waved it off.

  “How are you doing that?” Arabella asked. Another smaller cloud of mage mist left her hand and trailed behind her, then drifted under the door.

  “Who have you sent for?” Kara asked. “The spell you just sent off, who are you hoping will respond?”

  “How are you deflecting my spells?�
�� Arabella asked.

  “Kara,” Reo said. “Tell me now if you want her to die. Otherwise we must leave—now—before more Mages come.”

  Kara studied the woman who had given birth to her, but had never wanted to be her mother. She was mean and vindictive and jealous, and she’d tried to hire someone to kill her own daughter. Did Kara want Reo to kill her? She shook her head.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “She’s not worth your life, Reo.” She turned and pulled him with her through the door.

  ARABELLA WATCHED THE two slip out the door.

  “You will not get away!” she called after them. She clutched at the table and gasped. She’d exhausted her magic—she could feel it—and the girl had not even seemed tired. Was it a new form of magic? She could not trust anyone with this knowledge.

  Not Valerio—because despite what she’d told the girl she did believe her. She’d put it down to the pregnancy, but her exhaustion wasn’t natural—it hadn’t responded to any spells from the healer, and no matter how much rest she got she never felt recovered. She had to admit that Valerio was most likely stealing her power—making her weaker—even while she carried his child.

  “Arabella. I came as soon as I received your summons.”

  “Rorik, good.” She let him lead her to the chair. “There are enemies of Mage Guild on the island, but we need to be discreet. One of them is an Assassin, and I asked him here . . . you know how that causes questions.”

  “Of course,” Rorik replied. “I will send for a few trusted guards.” He waved a hand towards the door. “They should be here soon. Who is the Assassin with?”

  “A girl—a Mage Guild runaway,” Arabella said.

  “Does she have magic?”

  Arabella shook her head. She wasn’t going to tell him that the girl had somehow managed to evade the many spells she’d tried to kill her with—or that it was her child. No one needed to know that. And once the girl and the Assassin were dead—no one would.

  A guard slipped into the room, and Rorik whispered instructions to him. He bowed quickly, then left.

  “A tracker will be set on them,” Rorik said. “They won’t get far.”

  “Who won’t get far?”

  Arabella turned in time to see Valerio shut the door. He strode up to her and Rorik.

  “My dear, you look a bit . . . tired,” he said.

  When she met his eyes, there was a hint of humour in them. Had he noticed the decline in her power through his feed from her? She nodded, but didn’t smile. She wouldn’t accuse him—there was no way she would win that battle even though it was a serious offence.

  “And you look very vigorous,” she replied. She continued to meet his eyes until his humour dissipated, and he looked away. Not a victory—but he knew she knew.

  “I repeat my first question,” Valerio said. He turned to Rorik. “Who won’t get far?”

  “An Assassin and a runaway.”

  “A girl?” Valerio asked.

  He glanced at Arabella, and she dropped her eyes to her lap.

  “Yes,” she replied. “A female Mage Guild runaway.” She felt it when his insolence turned to anger. She met his gaze and slowly nodded.

  “How is it possible?” Valerio said.

  “Arabella brought the Assassin in,” Rorik interjected. “Although we want to keep that quiet. For some reason the girl was with him.”

  “For some reason,” Valerio replied. “How?”

  “I don’t know how!” Arabella said. “It shouldn’t be possible—is in fact impossible—yet there she was.”

  “I’m sure she came with the Assassin,” Rorik said.

  “I will take care of this,” Valerio said.

  “I’ve already assigned guards,” Rorik said. “They are efficient and will keep this to themselves. If the Secundus joins in the search, it will garner far more attention than we want.”

  “I will go alone,” Valerio said. “They will not elude me.” He nodded to Arabella and left.

  She heaved herself to her feet. She needed food—and rest—some way to recover some energy. Valerio would find them—but she wanted to be there, too. She needed to see the girl die—needed proof that it was finally done.

  ARABELLA FONTI’S SHOUT followed them as they hurried down the hallway, away from whoever was approaching, away from their boat, away from the only way out that Kara knew. Mage lights twinkled all along the hall, and Kara squeezed Reo’s hand, trying to reassure him.

  “Stay close,” she whispered. “I need to keep the mage mist away from us.”

  He nodded and settled in next to her, his body almost pressed against her side. Step by step, she tried to hurry through the eddies of multicoloured mist that writhed along the hallway. Another turn, and then another, and she had no idea which direction they were heading in, but they were further away from any sounds of pursuit. A passage intersected the corridor they were in, branching off in two more directions and she stopped, unsure of which way to go.

  “What’s wrong?” Reo asked in her ear.

  “I don’t know the way out,” Kara said. “Should we go straight, left, or right? I’ve gotten us lost.”

  “Right,” Reo said. “That’s south. They’ll be less likely to look for us that way.”

  “South,” Kara repeated. “How do you know?”

  “I always know.” Reo shook his head and grimaced. “Assassins are trained to always know which direction we face. And they won’t expect us to go south because it’s the most unlikely choice—straight through the heart of Mage Guild Island.” He laughed bitterly. “A lunatic’s choice.”

  “Sometimes they work,” Kara said, thinking about her own choice to run away from Villa Larona. A lunatic’s choice, yes, since she’d been so badly prepared. “Sometimes they have to since the alternative is worse.”

  Reo laughed again—this time with genuine pleasure.

  “Then let’s be lunatics,” he said. “And make the choice no one would expect.”

  “I do count the mad mage among my friends you know,” Kara said. “South it is.” She tugged on Reo’s arm as she headed down the corridor.

  Chapter twenty

  REO LED THE way at a quick pace, and Kara did her best to keep up, but she tripped over her skirts and stumbled into him. He gently steadied her before they rounded a corner. She grabbed him and stopped.

  “Stay still,” she whispered. “And keep close. There’s mage mist ahead.”

  Reo nodded, stepped behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. Facing forward, she had to admit that she welcomed his warmth—the amount of mage mist that swirled and coiled in the corridor ahead of them frightened her. Slowly she walked them forward.

  Like the day the clammers had chased her small group, she concentrated on letting the mist eddy past. But on that other day, the mage mist had been benign—these spells were malevolent, purposeful, and searching for them. Most of it was the familiar dark grey of Valerio Valendi.

  Kara continued to inch them down the corridor until they were finally out of the mage mist. She nodded to Reo—he grabbed her hand, and they trotted down the hall.

  “I DON’T SEE anyone,” Reo said as he slid down the wall to sit beside her. “What about magic?”

  Kara grabbed the stone sill of the window, pulled herself up, and peered outside. It was dark, well after midnight, and the grounds of the little park were shadowed. Mage mist lit up the odd flower or tree, simple spells to make them grow and bloom, she supposed. None of the crawling grey-black clouds of Valerio Valendi or the purple swirls of her mother.

  “It seems clear,” she said and sat down beside Reo.

  “Good. The building on the other side looks like a school of some sort. Let’s hope it’s empty at this time of night.” He crouched, but kept his eyes on the park. “We’ll wait an hour before we cross the park. That should be long enough for any guard to come by.” He glanced down at her. “Why don’t you try to sleep? It may be a while before you have another chance.”

  “Wha
t about you?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he replied. He gazed out the window again. “This time of night is when I usually work.”

  She shivered as she lay down on the floor. Reo was an Assassin—she shouldn’t forget that, ever. He was dangerous, yes, but he wasn’t infallible. Why had he brought her here to confront the woman who wanted to hire him to kill her? Why had he allowed himself to be so angry that he’d walked them both into danger? Her mother would never have let him leave alive. How had he not realized that? Had he expected her to get them out safely? Or had he even thought that far? When they were safe, if they were safe, she’d ask him.

  “Kara.”

  She felt her shoulder being shaken, and groggily she opened her eyes. In spite of the thoughts that had been running through her head, she had actually fallen asleep.

  “We need to go,” Reo said.

  She sat up and stretched. “I’m ready,” she said and stifled a yawn.

  “Good. There’s been no sign of a watch or guard. Can you check again for magic?”

  She poked her head up past the window sill.

  “Nothing’s changed,” she said.

  “Let’s go.”

  Reo edged over to the open window, and Kara followed. The night was still warm, but the air was slightly damp, and she was chilled from sleeping on the stone floor. She rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to warm herself up.

  “Keep low,” Reo said. He swung his legs over the sill and eased through it.

  Kara leaned out, and Reo grabbed hold of her waist and pulled. Her skirt snagged, and she heard the fabric tear, and then she was out and in Reo’s arms. She breathed in his scent—clean and musky with an undercurrent of salt air, then he dropped his arms and turned away. Kara wrapped her arms around herself. She was angry with him, and hurt by what he’d done tonight, but she still felt safe in his arms.

  He was willing to die for her. He’d made that promise many weeks ago, but tonight, when he’d told her that in front of her mother, she’d felt it in her soul. He was willing to die for her. It was a huge responsibility—she could make a choice that would send him to his death. She hadn’t been willing to make that choice earlier, didn’t think she’d ever be able to make it.