Table of Contents
The Unconquered Mage
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Map
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Pronunciation Guide and Glossary
Bonus Scenes
About the Author
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I feel I should acknowledge the debt I owe another series, the Touchstone trilogy by Andrea K. Höst, which is also told in diary format. Convergence languished for over a year, not going anywhere, until I had the idea to use this format—and then it almost wrote itself. I’m pretty sure Touchstone gave me the idea, and I shamelessly ran with it. I strongly recommend reading Höst’s series, comprising the books Stray, Lab Rat One, and Caszandra; they’re truly excellent.
A glossary and pronunciation guide appear at the end of this book.
Chapter One
BOOK NINE
4 Hantar
This book is how I know my husband loves me. I didn’t see him at all today because he was riding with Mattiak to discuss the problem of bringing an enemy army into a more or less defenseless Colosse without terrifying and panicking the populace, and he was still gone at dinnertime. I was just working out whether to be angry or worried when he appeared with this book in hand. It’s fatter than the others and barely fits into my pocket, but I’m so touched I wouldn’t care if it were made from tree bark and bound with braided grass.
The last time he did this, I was surprised and happy but most of all mystified that he knew to bring me one just as I needed it (no real mystery; he was secretly in love with me and had no other way to show it). This time, I’d told him my problem, trying to work out how I’d get another one, and it never occurred to me he might do it for me.
It’s one of those things about love, and marriage, that I’m still learning—caring for each other’s needs without having to be explicitly told what to do. Not that I expect him to always know what I’m thinking and respond appropriately. That would be ridiculous. Just—paying attention, I guess. Having things matter because they matter to the other person.
Which is why I felt so bad about telling him I need to go back to Venetry.
It was something I was thinking about this morning, after the army started moving again and I was jostling along in my very own private wagon—private because Cederic is convinced I still need to rest after being wounded, and there’s no room in the mages’ wagon for a bed. Last night was overwhelming, what with Cederic becoming Emperor-elect (the main reason we’re going to Colosse) and all the things that go along with that, so that’s really all I was able to think about.
But this morning, my friends came by a few at a time, particularly the Darssan Castaviran mages, who were as stunned as I was by the development. (Sovrin teased me about losing the God-Empress’s diamonds in the ruins of the palace, since now it turns out as Empress-Consort I’d have a legitimate reason to wear them.) And I remembered how Cederic had risked capture to go back and get all the mages from the Castaviran camp before the Castaviran officers could learn General Regates had defected back to the God-Empress’s side.
(I know she’s neither God nor Empress, but it’s her aenemica now, for me, and it feels like a weapon when I write it.)
The more I thought about that, the more I thought of “my” mages back in Venetry, of Jeddan, and how they’re either going to be forced to serve the God-Empress or imprisoned (or even killed?) because they refuse to do so. And I can’t stop worrying about Terrael.
To Cederic’s credit, when I told him this at lunchtime (he spends about half an hour with me in the middle of the day so each of us won’t forget what the other looks like) he didn’t get angry, or tell me I’m insane, or forbid me to even consider it. He did go totally impassive, the way he does when he’s feeling a strong emotion, and sat for about a minute looking off toward the head of our procession while I waited for him to gain control.
I try not to be frustrated when he does this. I still don’t know why showing anger or fear or sorrow or even great happiness is so difficult for him, or what he thinks will happen if he does, but it matters enough to him I don’t push. Or maybe I do know, if his flying into a rage at me that one time represents what happens when he loses control. At any rate, I know he does feel things. He’s never afraid to let me see him happy, and he seems to find it easier to make jokes and tease me these days. Though I’ve still never heard him laugh in public. Little steps, I guess.
Anyway. I waited—I’m learning so much patience from being married—until he was done working through his initial reaction. He said, without looking at me, “Your argument has merit. But I am afraid it is impossible. You cannot risk yourself.”
“Is that because the Emperor-elect thinks his wife is too valuable, or because Cederic Aleynten can’t bear to see me go into danger?” I said.
“Both,” he said, “and also the fact that Renatha Torenz will certainly destroy you if she catches you. We cannot afford to lose the most powerful of the Balaenic mages.”
“You know she can’t hold me against my will,” I said.
“She has only to keep you hemmed in until you are too exhausted to work the walk-through-walls pouvra,” Cederic said, “and you cannot stay insubstantial forever.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t dangerous,” I said. “And I’m still not completely healed, which I know was going to be your next objection.”
“Since you never let your physical safety interfere with doing what you believe is right, I thought it irrelevant,” he said with a tiny smile. “But you are correct that even if all my other objections were eliminated, I would still think this excursion too much for you in your present condition.”
“It’s going to be hard, true,” I said. “But I still think it has to be done. And you know I’m the only one who can do it.”
Cederic sighed. “Sesskia—”
“Just listen,” I said. “From where we are now, it will take me nine hours to return to Venetry by flitting. That’s going slowly and taking lots of breaks. I don’t want to injure myself. The longer we wait to do this, the longer that trip will take and the longer it will be for all of us to return. I’m convinced we need those mages just as much as we can’t leave them in the God-Empress’s hands.
“And Terrael…Cederic, it’s not just about friendship. He might be the only chance we have of figuring out how to bring our two magics together. You’re not going to be in a position to do any of that research yourself, not anymore. Now is the time to go after him. If we wait until we’ve won this war” (I carefully didn’t use the dreadful phrase “if we win this war”) “he could be dead, or worse. We have to think past the short-term problems, and I know those problems are serious, but at some point it will all be over, and I don’t want us regretting not taking steps to make that eventual future something we can all live with.”
Cederic looked off into the distance again. “We will have no way of communicating with you,” he said. “It will be days before we know if you have succeeded.”
“No, see, that’s the wonderful part,” I said. “Once everyone is free of Venetry and headed in this direction
, I’ll flit back and tell you how it went. I’ll be gone no more than three days. Then I can go back and forth if I have to, make sure they’re on the right path to join us. It’s not as if Jeddan can’t lead them. And they’ll travel faster than we do, so it won’t take very long. I think they’ll catch up to us just as we’re reaching Colosse.”
Cederic bowed his head and said, “You have given this much thought.”
“You know I don’t take unnecessary risks,” I said. “I always—almost always—think things through. I wouldn’t suggest this if I didn’t think it was important. And you know I wouldn’t volunteer myself if there were anyone else who could go.”
“I know,” he said. “I th
Later—That conversation ended with him saying “let me think about it” and going away. He left again after giving me this book, which is why I was writing, and he just now came back and said I should leave at first light. So I’m finishing this quickly so we can go to bed together. I’m still not well enough for anything but sleep, but I think keeping me close on this night is all he really wants.
5 Hantar
I almost changed my mind when I saw how unhappy Cederic was when I woke this morning. It felt…I don’t know what that feeling was. Guilt at hurting him, probably, when we both knew this had nothing to do with the two of us.
The journey was tiring but not as exhausting as I’d feared. I haven’t been totally honest with Cederic about my condition because I don’t like him fretting over me—it doesn’t make me recover faster and it’s a burden on him. So I don’t complain much even when the healing wound twinges. I took plenty of long breaks and ended up here about an hour before sunset, which is why I’m writing; I’m going to wait until near-dark to enter the city. No sense taking risks. Well, more risks than I have to.
The Castaviran camp—there’s only one now—looks semi-permanent to me. Maybe what Mattiak said about them not coming after us until spring is true. The Venetrian defenders are gone, sent back to winter quarters I guess. But there’s still a heavier guard presence at the gate, so things are not entirely amicable between the allies. I wonder if they let the Castavirans come into the city sometimes?
Putting this away now. Time for the first part of the plan, which is to enter the city and make my way to Fianna Manor. I hope the mages are still there, because I don’t know how I’ll find them if they aren’t. I hope they aren’t hurt. I hope they have some idea of where I can find Terrael.
6 Hantar, early
I’ve got about an hour before we can get the mages out. They have to pack, and even though Jeddan and I both said “pack lightly” they all have strange ideas about what “lightly” means. So he’s supervising, and I’m bringing this up to date.
I got through the gate just fine. Really, I can’t believe I ever bothered to wait in line to get into Venetry. Then I sneaked my way through the city center and up to where the manors begin. I don’t really have a home, since Thalessa has so many painful memories attached to it, but Venetry comes close because I’ve spent so much time here and infiltrated so many of these manors. I remember what I took from each one, gems and coins mostly, but I also took some jewelry and a couple of curios and—oh, the silver mink statue! I haven’t thought of that in years. I had to get it to trade for the Pearl of Remembrance, and I needed that for…I forget what, but it ended with me acquiring Marssik’s Primer.
I put more effort into getting that book than any other and it was the last one I got semi-legitimately, tracking down all those objects to trade for other objects until I finally got the one the book’s owner wanted. It was worth it, but it took me most of four months. So much easier just to steal what I need—or borrow, I suppose, since I only needed it for a couple of days. Four months in exchange for two days of reading. What was I thinking?
But that’s irrelevant. The streets of Venetry were far better trafficked than they’d been the last time I was here, even though it was nearly sunset. I think martial law wasn’t in effect anymore. It had been a nice day, clear and warm for early Hantar—I’d appreciated it during my journey.
It certainly didn’t look like a city on the verge of war. I’d bet for most of these people, the Castaviran-Balaenic conflict was a distant…not even a worry, more like a possibility on the horizon. Which makes me wonder if the Fensadderian wars are going to spill over into our country. Venetry’s not that far from the border, so it’s not impossible that we could see refugees coming our way…and now I feel guilty, because my second thought there was “if the refugees cause enough trouble, the Castavirans will be too busy to come after us.”
I’m so distractible right now. I think it’s because I don’t want to think about having to get all these mages out of the city, and then go back for Terrael, which has its own problems. But the only way out now is forward, so that’s where we’re all going.
When I got to Fianna Manor, I was surprised to see it guarded. Not much surprised, because one of the possibilities had always been the mages would be imprisoned because they wouldn’t obey the king anymore, but I hadn’t believed that would be the case. At least it meant they hadn’t all been executed or transported to Solwyn Manor.
(It occurs to me now that Jeddan might have spirited them all away before I got there. I’m glad he didn’t. If Terrael really is in Solwyn, Jeddan’s right that I can’t get him out without help.)
I went all the way around the manor at a safe distance and saw there were guards posted at every entrance point, even the large windows of the dining room. The King, or the God-Empress, wasn’t taking any chances. This was a problem, because there was snow on the ground and even if I were concealed, the least alert guard would notice footprints appearing in the snow. I’d have to do this while concealed and insubstantial.
So I circled around, very carefully, looking for the best approach: the shortest distance between where I stood and the manor wall, farthest away from the guards. Naturally there was no perfect place, so I chose what I hoped was the safest of several bad options, took a deep breath, worked the walk-through-walls pouvra, and ran.
The dangerous part of this maneuver was going through the wall, because I couldn’t remember what was beyond it. I could have walked right into a guard, or one of the mages, or anything. But it turned out to be a pantry near the kitchen—part of a pantry, anyway. I managed to embed myself in its wall, or would have done if I’d been stupid enough to go substantial immediately upon entering.
I took a few steps to one side, let the walk-through-walls pouvra go, and stood for a while to catch my breath. I heard people moving around next door, and the faint rattle and clank of pots being washed or put away. So the kitchen staff, and probably the rest of the servants, were still here. That combined with the presence of the guards was curious: the mages couldn’t leave, but they weren’t being treated as dangerous prisoners? Jeddan explained it all, but that came later.
So I sneaked out and went all the way up the servants’ stair to Jeddan’s room, only he wasn’t there. His things were, though, so I retraced my steps and went looking for the mages on the lower floors. I’d expected them to be doing what we always used to do in the evenings—gather in the games room or the library, talk and play and generally relax after a long day of work. But both those rooms were dark. Eventually I tracked them down in the ballroom, which was a surprise, because they were practicing pouvrin even though it was, by now, full dark. I was surprised enough that I stood, concealed, in the doorway and watched them.
And they’d changed. They’d gotten better, of course, but there was a determination about them I hadn’t seen before. They reminded me of our warrior mages, but where the warriors had focused on a couple of pouvrin and become exceptional at them, the defenders of Venetry had become versatile. My spies were in a corner teaching the walk-through-walls pouvra to a handful of mages I knew for a fact had shown neither inclination nor talent for it when I left. Jerussa was supervising another woman in flitting in ten-yard hops from one side of the ballroom to the oth
er. And Jeddan stood with five or six other mages flicking ropes of fire at the walls and trying to overlay each stroke on the first mark. Every one of them was intent on his or her pouvra to the point I think I could have dropped concealment and walked into the room without being noticed.
And that turned out to be true. It was almost a minute before someone happened to glance my way. “Sesskia!” she exclaimed, which got everyone looking at me, then Jeddan grabbed me in those massive arms of his and swung me around, making me squeak in surprise (and pain).
“What are you doing here?” he said. “Where’s the rest of our mages?”
“I’ll tell you my story if you tell yours,” I said. After a bit of wrangling over who should go first, I told what had happened (very briefly) since the Army left Venetry. I knew they had learned focus and self-control when none of them bombarded me with irrelevant questions. When I wound down, I said, “Your turn.”
“Wait,” Jeddan said. “You came back to get us out? Just you? That’s an awful risk.”
“How else could we do it, short of besieging the city and getting torn to pieces by the Castaviran Army?” I said. “I would have been sooner, but I was injured during the fight in the audience chamber. Why weren’t you there?”
“I was there,” Jeddan said. “They summoned a few of us to attend on the King and his ‘bride’, but I wasn’t included. I don’t think the King ever understood anyone but you was the leader of the mages, which was fine by me. So I sneaked in.”
“I recognized your voice,” Kurkis said, “and after a bit of milling around, and once Jeddan got involved, we realized who we were supposed to be attacking. Then we tried to escape with your friends, but the guards collared some of us and we couldn’t get away without them being hurt. And we’d have had to leave the rest of the mages who were still here.”
“So they marched us all back here and put guards on the house,” Jeddan said. “I think the God-Empress wanted us killed, but the King is too afraid of us to try that. He might also hope we’ll change our minds and fight on his side. He really is an idiot. It’s clear the God-Empress is unstable—clear to us, anyway—but he’s letting her make all sorts of decisions for him.”
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