Unguilded

by Jane Glatt

  “I know,” Kara said. “But I hadn’t meant to kill him.”

  “You reacted,” Reo said. “And that was a good thing for us.”

  “If you hadn’t charged him, I wouldn’t have had to react,” Kara said.

  “Perhaps we’d both be dead,” Reo replied calmly. “Or I would be dead, and you would be a prisoner.”

  She shivered. The man who had cursed Santos would have kept her captive and forced her to bear his children—unless her mother killed her out of jealousy.

  “I’ll always remember?” Kara whispered.

  “That is not a bad thing,” Reo said.

  She opened her eyes and looked up into his gaze.

  “Taking another’s life should not be a casual act, there should always be a cost.”

  “Even for an Assassin?” she asked.

  “Even for an Assassin.”

  She closed her eyes again and let the steady beat of Reo’s heart lull her to sleep.

  ARABELLA WORRIED THAT it had been too easy. Rorik had believed her—even defended her against other council members who had asked a few too many questions. Like why an Assassin was even on Mage Guild Island.

  She stepped into the tub and let the warm water seep into her. She sighed and sank lower.

  Rorik had insisted that she take care of herself. She’d objected of course, but the Primus had insisted. She wasn’t going to against his wishes—at least not yet.

  And the others! How they’d fawned over Rorik. But she hadn’t—she’d acted as his equal, his collaborator in the search for justice for Valerio, someone strong who he could count on.

  A few of them had understood—two had even been solicitous of her—because they knew what she knew. At this moment she was Rorik’s choice for Secundus. All she had to do was have him formally select her.

  She rose and let the water sluice off her, and grabbed the cloth that hung beside the tub.

  Once dry, she padded into her bedchamber and threw open her closet.

  What to wear . . . not black. She wasn’t in mourning—at least not officially. Ah—there. Purple—a powerful colour—a strong colour.

  A few minutes later, she headed down to the corridors that crisscrossed the island.

  The halls were busy—Servers and Mages hurrying to complete their tasks before the formal ceremony to mark the passing of the Secundus.

  Arabella strolled, taking her time. Rorik had promised that the ceremony would not start until she was ready. She breathed in a deep breath. They were waiting on her—they were all waiting on her.

  She knocked at the door to Rorik’s estate, and a Server opened it.

  “The Primus is in his salon,” he said and bowed. Arabella followed him up a set of stairs to an open set of double doors. Quiet voices—male voices—drifted out into the hall.

  “Master Mage Fonti,” the Server announced before stepping out of the way.

  Rorik hurried to her side. “My dear, we didn’t expect to see you so soon, I trust you are rested?”

  “Primus, I am refreshed, but I could not sleep. There is so much to do, and I wish to help.”

  “Yes, of course,” Rorik said. “Your help will be greatly appreciated. Inigo has also offered his help.”

  Arabella looked past Rorik and met Inigo’s gaze. As a council Mage, he had been fully bound to Valerio. She smiled wanly.

  “How kind of you,” she said. She stepped past Rorik and sat down on the settee beside Inigo. Was he maneuvering for Secundus? He wasn’t simply offering to help—no one in this room believed any of them were here for that, despite what they said.

  “We are all shocked at Valerio Valendi’s sudden death,” Inigo said. “It must be doubly wretched for you. You were very close to him, I hear.”

  “Yes.” She patted her belly, and Inigo’s eyes widened. In a few hours, the whole council would know she was carrying Valerio’s child. “As was Rorik.”

  “Yes,” Rorik agreed. “In the past few months, we three became a good team.”

  “And now we are two,” Arabella said sadly. “But we must set aside our grief for the good of the guild.”

  “Are you sure you are well enough to do this?” Rorik asked her.

  “I have to be—I have no choice.” Arabella folded her hands in her lap. “And being active will keep me from dwelling on my loss.”

  “All of Mage Guild mourns the loss of Valerio Valendi,” Inigo said.

  “Of course,” Arabella replied. “I did not mean to imply that my loss was greater than yours.”

  “But it is,” Rorik interjected. “You’ve lost not only a friend and mentor, but the father of your child.” He clasped her shoulder briefly before stepping away.

  “Inigo,” Rorik said. “While I appreciate your offer, I do think that Arabella and I can handle any tasks still to be done.”

  “Of course, Primus,” Inigo said. “I will leave you to them.”

  Arabella nodded as Inigo made his farewells. As he left the study he glanced over at her—his face was blank, but there was fury in his eyes. She ducked her head to hide her smile. Had Inigo petitioned Rorik to become Secundus? He had been Valerio’s ally—had he really expected that to be enough to secure the position? He had underestimated her, but she doubted he would make that mistake again. Once Rorik named her Secundus, she would have to be careful. It seemed she had made an enemy.

  “Shall I order something to eat?” Rorik asked when he returned.

  “Something light would be nice,” she replied. “I fatigue so quickly these days and now with . . .” She let her voice trail off. In truth she had more energy now that Valerio was dead—but Rorik would never know that.

  He called his Server, and she smiled, trying to portray a sense of gratitude.

  “Thank you. I do not know what I would do without such a good friend.” She paused as Rorik sat down beside her. “But I worry about my child,” she said. “Mine and Valerio’s child.”

  “That is natural,” Rorik replied. “A mother is always concerned about her children. How can I help?”

  “I feel vulnerable, exposed politically. I will have some protection since I am on the council, but I fear that Valerio’s enemies will harm our child. You know what happens to the offspring of dead Mages.” It wasn’t an idle worry—even now Valerio’s children were probably being eliminated. No one wanted children with potential to grow up and exact revenge on their parent’s enemies.

  “I do.” Rorik’s face darkened. “It’s a horrendous practice.” He clasped her hands in his. “Again, how can I help?”

  “Make me Secundus. Not for me, but for my child. No one will dare touch him if I am Secundus to your Primus.”

  Rorik dropped her hands and leaned back. “What will you give me in return?”

  Arabella dropped her eyes. Based on Rorik’s response, Inigo had been lobbying to be appointed Secundus. “I will give you what I have always given you,” she said. “Loyalty, friendship, and someone you can trust.”

  “Can I trust you?”

  “Yes. You know my secrets.”

  “Ah yes, the daughter and the Assassin.” He paused. “I’ll do it. Gyda knows I can’t trust any of the others. I will make you Secundus—but only if you tell me what really happened.”

  “It’s all true,” she said, meeting his eyes. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone—but somehow Rorik suspected. And becoming Secundus was worth anything, including this last secret. “Except I did not see them drown. They were picked up by a Seyoyan vessel, which makes me suspect that Warrior Guild is behind this.”

  “Warrior Guild!” Rorik exclaimed. “If they were responsible for the death of a Mage Guild Secundus, they will pay dearly.”

  “Once I am Secundus, I can help,” Arabella said.

  “Yes. I will make the announcement today and arrange the official appointment as soon as possible.”

  He left her just as her meal arrived. Arabella picked up a fork and speared some salad. She’d known that Rorik disliked Warrior Guild�
�that was why she’d blamed them—but she hadn’t realized how much he hated them. He’d been so focused on them that he hadn’t even asked her why she’d lied to the council. If she could keep Rorik focused on Warrior Guild, she could manage the council.

  “KARA, WAKE UP.”

  Her arm was being prodded, but she was too tired to open her eyes. She sighed and burrowed deeper against the warmth.

  “Kara.”

  That voice again. She frowned. Couldn’t they leave her alone?

  “Kara.”

  She opened her eyes. She was pressed against Reo and she edged away from him. Nervously she looked at him—what must he think of her, sleeping curled up against him? He met her gaze with a tenderness that made her heart falter.

  “We need to get moving.” He eased his arm out from between her back and the wall and stretched.

  Kara smoothed her green shirt down over her ill-fitting trousers and stood up. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and certainly not in Reo’s arms, but she’d been warm, finally, and she’d felt safe. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He smiled at her shyly, and she smiled back.

  “Are we leaving the ship?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Reo replied. “Javan came by a few minutes ago. We’re off the coast of Old Rillidi. Just a little north of the old docks where I found those two boys you knew.”

  “Harb and Lowel,” Kara said with a nod. “We’re close to Santos’ estate. How long was I asleep?” What she wanted to know was how long he’d let her nestle against him.

  “A few hours—it’s around midnight. There’s enough moonlight to let us find our way.”

  Reo stood up, and suddenly she felt crowded in the little cabin. She moved towards the door. There was a sharp knock, and she jumped.

  “We’re ready,” someone called softly in Seyoyan.

  Kara followed Reo out into the narrow hallway. A single lamp hung from a wooden beam, the flame sputtering as it swung. She hadn’t noticed the rocking of the ship, but now she had to steady herself by trailing a hand along each wall of the passageway. She climbed a short flight of stairs to the deck where a salty breeze whipped her hair around her face.

  Reo leaned in. “Come,” he whispered, taking hold of her arm and steering her towards one side of the ship.

  A Seyoyan scrambled over the railing and disappeared from view. Another one waved her forward. Kara took two unsteady steps and grabbed a thick rope that trailed over the side. A rope ladder led down to a dory that bobbed in the moonlight. She slipped over the edge and stepped down two rungs—then hands reached for her, gently guiding her into the prow of the boat. Soon Reo huddled beside her, and two Seyoyans rowed them away from the ship.

  She peered forward—the shore was faintly outlined in mage mist. Light green—Santos’ colour.

  “Santos has a spell in place,” Kara said softly to Reo.

  “Do you know what it does?” he asked.

  Kara shook her head. “No.” She turned to the rowers. “We need to stop here,” she said in Seyoyan.

  The Seyoyans looked at her before digging their oars in the water—the dory lurched and slowed. Water slapped against the wooden sides of the boat, and a cool wind blew them towards the mage mist that swirled a few feet away.

  “We need something to throw.” She stared at the mage mist. “I can get us through it, but it I would like to know what kind of spell it is.” She paused. “Whether it just keeps intruders away or is something more dangerous.”

  Reo leaned over and grabbed a rope that was coiled in the bottom of the boat. A knife flashed in his hands, and he handed her a six inch length of rope.

  “Do you think they’ve been attacked?” he asked her quietly.

  Kara took the rope. “I hope not. That would mean my mother and Mage Guild know I lived here.” And that would mean she’d put her friends at risk.

  She leaned out over the prow and tossed the rope through the mage mist—it arced halfway through the green and then it disappeared. She heard a splash behind them.

  “It’s a relocation spell,” she said, relieved. “It’s a basic spell to keep anyone from landing here. It probably pushes them out into the bay. I’ll make it go around us.”

  “Is it to defend against attack?” Reo asked.

  “No.” She focused on the mage mist. “Santos can create this type of spell in his sleep.” She glanced at Reo. “If they were attacked I’d expect something stronger than this—something more damaging.” She looked at the Seyoyans. “We can land,” she said to the Seyoyans.

  The boat moved forward, and the mist parted to let them through. She still didn’t like that there was a spell. Why had Santos cast it?

  “You’re worried,” Reo said.

  “Yes,” Kara replied. “Santos didn’t want anyone to know that he was sane and capable of magic again.”

  Reo nodded. “That spell reveals that there’s a practicing Mage close.”

  The boat slowed as it got close to the rocky shore. One of the Seyoyans crept past them to the prow and scrambled over the side with the rope in his hand. Half walking, half swimming, he towed them until a rock scraped against the bottom of the boat.

  Reo stepped out first, motioning for Kara to stay back.

  “They might know someone is here,” he said. “I’ll take a look.” He waded towards shore, the moon glinting off the ripples he made in the water.

  Kara gazed out to sea. The mage mist swirled unbroken just off the coast. The only thing that comforted her was the knowledge that it was Santos Nimali’s spell. What had changed that he felt the need to safeguard his estate? She looked in the direction of the buildings—the damaged estate and the small cabin she’d felt so at home in. Even though the trees were mostly bare she was still too far away to see any lights.

  “Clear,” Reo called in a hushed voice.

  A Seyoyan helped her step out of the boat. Her foot slipped on a wet rock as she scrambled up to Reo. Absently he pulled her close.

  “Any magic?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Good. I’ll have the men wait for me. Hopefully Santos will help, and I can leave before dawn.”

  Reo turned to talk to the crew, and Kara stared into the dark woods. A few months ago it had been her home, but now, with mage mist hugging the shore, the island felt foreign. Would they want her back? Had she become so different that she’d no longer fit in? She’d killed a man—a Mage—was she too dangerous to live here now? It had been her safe haven once—she wanted, needed, it to be that again.

  Reo touched her arm and nodded. She took the hand he offered and followed him into the woods. A few minutes later they emerged from the trees into a small clearing.

  Kara frowned. She hadn’t spent much time roaming the woods, but the estate wasn’t that big. This clearing was new. She tightened her grip on Reo’s hand.

  “Stop!”

  The voice came from their left. She sucked in her breath and froze. Reo’s shoulders tensed for a moment, and then he relaxed, ready to fight.

  “Stay there, where I can see you.”

  A light flared, a torch with flame, and Kara squinted in the glare.

  “Kara? Is that you?”

  She tried to peer past the torch. The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

  “Vook, get that light out of her eyes, the poor girl’s blinded.”

  “Sorry, Mika.”

  “Mika,” Kara said. “I didn’t expect you.”

  She stepped past Reo and wrapped her arms around the trader.

  “And Vook. I’m so happy to see you.” She ruffled his hair. She had to reach up to do it—he’d grown a few inches since she’d last seen him and put on a few pounds.

  “Reo,” Kara turned around. “This is Mika Giannetti, the trader I traveled with in the summer. You know Vook.”

  Mika eyed Reo and nodded.

  “I can’t believe it’s you!” Mika said. “We heard just today that you were dead.” Mika squeezed her against
her side. “I’m awfully glad it’s not true. Come on up to the house. Santos will be so relieved.”

  “He’s awake?” Kara asked.

  Mika nodded.

  “We need his help.”

  Kara and Reo followed Mika through another small stand of trees to the house. Lights glowed in a few of the windows, and it looked warm and inviting.

  “He fixed it,” Kara said. “The damage.” The house was magnificent now, truly befitting the Mage Guild Primus that Santos had been.

  “Yeah,” Vook said. “Santos hired folk down by Shantytown. Dozens of men and boys have been crawling all over this place for the last month. Said the house was built without magic so it shouldn’t be repaired with magic.”

  “People know about him?” Kara asked.

  “Santos said it was Mage Guild that wanted him kept a secret,” Mika said. “But he got worried when we heard you’d been killed.” She looked at Reo. “And that you were in trouble with Mage Guild.”

  “That’s why he put a spell along the shore,” Kara said.

  “Yeah,” Vook replied. “Just in case Mage Guild knew you’d come from here.”

  Light streamed from the windows of the kitchen along the rear of the house. Mika pushed open the door.

  “Look who we found,” Mika called.

  “Kara?” Santos said. He was standing in the doorway to the hall, a puzzled look on his face. “Kara.” He smiled. “It is you.”

  She rushed to him, and his thin arms encircled her.

  “It’s good to be back,” she said.

  Santos pulled away and studied her. “You’re home for good?”

  Kara glanced at Reo, who nodded, his mouth tight.

  “Yes,” she said and then she smiled. “I’m home.”

  “What about Reo?” Santos asked. “I thought . . .”

  “I have released Kara from any further obligations,” Reo said. “Considering what I’ve put her through, I’m grateful for any good will she has for me.”

  “What you put her through?” Santos asked, frowning.

  “I’ll tell that tale later,” Kara said. “Right now I need a favour.” She looked at Reo again. “We need a favour.”

  IT WAS ALMOST dawn. Reo had left with the Seyoyans, and Kara was exhausted, but she needed to tell Santos everything. She wanted him to make his decision tonight—she didn’t think she could endure being asked to leave once she’d settled back into the cabin.