The Fire Mages' Daughter

by Pauline M. Ross

  And yet he seemed remarkably at ease in Kingswell. Partly that was my influence. I was instructed to accompany him on all his outings, and I think he would have refused to go without me. Zandara, Vhar-zhin and Axandor all went along sometimes, but I was the one whose appearance brought a smile to his face. He liked to hold my hand, and it seemed to soothe him, in some unfathomable way. While I was with him, and particularly while we were in direct contact, he had no fear of the high buildings, the press of traffic, the multitude of people, the noise. It was very strange.

  At night, I stayed with him in the King’s Chambers, although he never touched me unless he had to, when his need for me couldn’t be denied. Still, it seemed to keep his emotions in check, and there was less of the frantic urgency. It wasn’t quite as overwhelming an experience for me, but at least I was more in control of myself.

  Yannassia was never anything but composed in her dealings with Ly-haam, but I began to get irritated by his refusal to enter into serious discussions. After all, wasn’t that what he had come for? If he wanted mages to help his people, he had to be prepared to trade something for the privilege. Yet he said nothing of what he wanted, or what he might give to have it.

  One night, as we prepared for bed, I decided to push him a little harder. “You know, Ly, you are not being open with me.”

  He froze, one leg in his trousers, the other out, and stared at me. “What do you mean?”

  “You tell me nothing about your people, and yet I ought to know everything about you.”

  “I tell you what you need to know.”

  “Which is nothing. This connection between us, for instance… why?”

  He wriggled out of his trousers, and folded them neatly, not looking at me. “I do not understand that myself. I have told you this already. It is a mystery to me.”

  “Really?” I said, not sure I believed him. “And then…” I hesitated. My ability to enter the minds of rats and eagles was almost too peculiar to mention, yet perhaps he would understand it, given the connection to beasts the Blood Clan people were known to have.

  I took his hand and led him to a sofa near the window. “Ly, after the first time we were… together, something changed in me. There was a warmth inside me…”

  “That is usual. My seed is… special. I told you that, too, Drina.”

  “Yes, but… it’s hard to explain. But now I can see your eagles.”

  He shook his head a little, his hair bouncing softly. “They are not invisible. Anyone can see them.”

  “No, I can see inside them. I know where your eagles are, right now, and I can see through their eyes.”

  “No, no. That is not possible. They are bonded, you cannot… no one else can bond with them. I think you are making this up.”

  Now, I’d been in a thousand diplomatic meetings, and heard a million weasel words, and uttered quite a few myself. But no one had ever called me a liar to my face before. Rage flooded through me so fast I could hardly breathe. How dared he! Sitting there so smugly, disbelieving.

  I slapped him, hitting him so hard his head spun to the side.

  “Don’t you dare suggest I’m inventing this. One of your eagles is perched on top of the south-eastern tower right now, and the other two are up in the crags near the summit of Candle Mountain. And I can see rats, as well. There are several in the apartment just above this one. There’s a kitchen up there, and maybe the cooks are careless about dropped food. There are four… no, five, directly above us.”

  He was as white as his shirt. “No,” he whispered. “It is not possible… is it? But how?”

  I was instantly deflated. “I was hoping you would tell me. But it began after the business at your village. Not immediately, but slowly, over a moon or so.”

  He moaned. “Oh no! You were not… surely you could not be…? Oh, dear ancestors, this is far, far worse!” He wrapped his arms around his skinny body, and rocked gently.

  “I was not what?”

  “Did you bleed? Afterwards, I mean?”

  “Yes, of course. I don’t… oh.”

  “It was your first time, then?” he said, his voice low. I nodded, getting the point. “My seed, and your blood… You have my seed in your blood. Oh, ancestors! This is very bad.”

  “Is it?” I said in a small voice. It had seemed strange to me, but not necessarily bad. “You had better explain.”

  “I am not sure I can,” he said. “This is… very unusual. In fact, I have never heard of such a thing. I shall need to consult the elders, to see what must be done.”

  Must be done? That sounded ominous. But he would say nothing more about it.

  That night, he slept on the floor again, and when I woke in the morning he was gone, and the eagles too.

  ~~~~~

  Yannassia wasn’t visibly angry, but she gave the guard commanders an uncomfortable time of it. She was not tall, and her chair was plain wood, but her dignified bearing on the dais made her seem very queenly at such moments. The commanders stood in a line, helmets held under their arms with ceremonial precision, uniforms spotless, and trembled before her.

  “How is it possible,” she said, her voice icy, “that every entrance to that apartment was watched for the entire night, yet no one saw him leave? How can that be, Commander?”

  “I cannot answer you, Most Powerful,” the senior commander said, her voice wobbling a very little. “Although there are windows from which perhaps he might have climbed—”

  “From the fourth floor? Really? Is that the best you can offer?” The commander bowed low, smart enough not to argue the point. “But if, by some miracle, he managed to climb to the ground, he could hardly leave the Keep. I take it you have checked with the gate guards?”

  “Of course, Most Powerful. The gates were closed all night, and no one passed through after the curfew. I have ordered the gates to remain closed while we search the Keep, Most Powerful.”

  “Ah. That is something. Go, then, and keep me informed.”

  The commanders marched out in synchronised precision, but I suspect the performance was more for their own spirits than to impress the court.

  Yannassia turned to me. “Axandrina, you heard nothing?”

  “Nothing at all, Highness. He was gone when I woke up.”

  Zandara turned her blank gaze on me. “I am surprised his departure did not wake you, sister. You used to be a very light sleeper.” She turned back to Yannassia. “There is a concealed passage leading from that apartment to the roof. Perhaps—”

  “Nonsense!” Yannassia snapped, brows lowering ominously. “The roof would be no help. He would still need to reach the ground, and the outside walls are sheer. And I hope you do not dare to suggest that Drina helped this boy to escape. She has already done a great deal more than anyone could have asked, in order to keep him happy. I am perfectly content with her actions.”

  Zandara said nothing more, lowering her eyes demurely.

  “Maybe he flew from the roof,” Axandor said with a grin, arms making flapping motions.

  Yannassia ignored him. “Well, it is most disappointing. He seemed quite content here, in his way. I was hopeful we would get something out of him in time. Now I suppose the prospect is quite lost.”

  Zandara coughed, her affected little dry cough to draw her mother’s attention. “Not necessarily, Most Powerful.”

  “Really?” Yannassia’s eyes gleamed with sudden interest. “What do you have in mind?”

  Zandara fluffed her skirts, and sat up a little straighter. “I have been making a study of this byan shar while he has been here. He is not a particularly imposing specimen. I do not think we need to fear him. He has no special talent or ability. He has no army to call upon, and his people are primitive herders and hunters. I believe we could take what we want without fear of retribution.”

  “You want to start a war?” Yannassia said, her tone as mild as milk.

  A good question, but Zandara didn’t flinch. “There is nothing to fear from a well-judged milita
ry campaign, and everything to gain, as my father well understood. We have benefited greatly from our alliance with the Port Holdings over the years. I see no reason why we should not benefit even more from a foray into the Clanlands. Not a war, so much as a small campaign to secure access to the black-bark forest. The profits from that would fund a larger-scale incursion to the rich inner lands, should we wish to follow that course.”

  The mask of restraint slipped from Yannassia’s features, and she actually smiled. “The idea has merit. But I do not know if we have the army strength for a major campaign, while still maintaining the rest of our borders.”

  “We have the Icthari as settled allies to the north,” Zandara said. “The east is quiet just now, since the Vahsi have not troubled us much for a generation or more. The south we already control. I do not consider it a problem.”

  Yannassia nodded. “It is too late in the year for any movement, but perhaps a spring campaign… Zandara, you may consult with the High Commander about the possibility. Come back to me with a detailed plan a moon from now. If I like it, we will put it to the Nobles’ Council.”

  The court dissolved into excited twittering, like a flock of birds. Axandor made swishing noises with a pretend sword, and Zandara was trying very hard not to appear triumphant at this unexpected success.

  I felt sick. I had no greater respect for Ly-haam and his people than Zandara, and I had far more reason to dislike them than she had. Yet I hated the thought of the army marching down the hill from the fortress and trampling those people and their simple way of life into the dust. We had endured any number of conflicts with them in the past, but most of the time they were peaceful neighbours, even if their ways were strange. And just now, it seemed to me that Ly-haam was stretching a tentative hand of friendship towards us. It seemed foolish to push him away so peremptorily.

  Creeping away as soon as I could, I found Vhar-zhin following me.

  She took my hand. “You must be exhausted, dear. Come back to the apartment and have a long soak in the bath. I shall scrub your back for you, if you like. You know that always helps you.”

  The tension between us since my ill-fated scheme with Lathran had eased, but this was her friendliest approach for some time. It was good to be back to our old closeness, even if her idea for a bath was an odd one.

  “I’m not tired, Vhar,” I said, mildly. “Besides, I would feel strange lounging in the bath at this hour.”

  “Nonsense! It will do you good.”

  She wouldn’t listen to my protests, so into the bath I went, to be oiled and scrubbed and massaged. I had to confess, it felt good to be cosseted by someone who wanted nothing at all from me. She asked me no questions, and I don’t think I could have told her much of what had happened with Ly-haam, anyway. I didn’t understand it myself, so how could I explain it to anyone else?

  But I don’t think she wanted me to talk at all. When I made some comment about the prospect of war, she hushed me at once. “Do not think about it. Let Zandara follow her silly ideas.”

  So I lay, half-dozing, while she tended me. When she deemed me clean enough, she laughed and said, “There! You will do. Ah, Drina, it is so good to have you back, dear one.”

  Then she leaned over and kissed me full on the lips, almost as a lover might.

  She was strangely emotional, sometimes.

  ~~~~~

  Two suns later, my mother arrived, and the world was a little brighter. Typically, she sent no word ahead, so I had no idea she was even on her way. There was just a note one afternoon, delivered to me as I emerged from a Nobles’ Council meeting, that she was in the mages’ house, and would be happy to see me whenever I could spare the time.

  I think I must have grown wings, because I positively flew down the King’s Way, Cryalla pounding along in my wake, her armoured leather creaking, and sword clasps jingling. The mage guards smiled when they saw me.

  “Where is she?” I called as I sailed past.

  “Room Blue Four,” one called after me.

  Then I was bounding up the stairs and along the narrow corridor, throwing open the door without knocking. And there she was, turning to meet me with happiness lighting up her face, throwing out her arms to receive me, clasping me so tightly I could hardly breathe.

  We cried over each other for a while, but eventually she dragged me to a window for a close inspection.

  “It’s true,” she said, touching my face gently. “You really are well here, aren’t you? Cal said you were quite different here, but somehow I didn’t quite believe it. Now I can see it for myself. Your eyes are so bright and clear. It’s astonishing. It’s the magic here, I suppose.”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps it is. But I still miss your magic.”

  Her face clouded. “Yes, dear, and that’s why Yannassia sent for me. You know that, don’t you? She wants to understand you.”

  I pulled a face. “I suppose. But I wish she would just let me go home.”

  Mother sighed. “She will never agree to that, so you might as well get used to it. But… Yannassia is very practical. A diplomat. You could make a deal with her.”

  “Trade something, you mean? You think she would? She doesn’t have to. She has every legal right to keep me a prisoner here.”

  “No, she doesn’t have to, but she wants you to be her heir, or at least to play along with the idea, without destroying the Keep or doing any of those other foolish things.” But she smiled as she spoke, and I was holding her hand and feeling her magic ooze into me, so I didn’t feel at all scolded. “If there’s something you want in return for that, she’d listen. She’s very good at making practical deals to get what she wants. That was how she came to be your custodian.”

  “What… what do you mean?” I whispered, as the world dropped away from under me.

  “I did a deal with her. She got to claim you, and I got to be a law scribe. Or a mage, as it turned out, but I didn’t know that then.”

  I was on my feet, my breath rasping in my throat. “You gave me away? How could you? You sold me into slavery, so you could be a stupid scribe!”

  “Drina, don’t be so dramatic. I felt at the time that it was the best thing for you, and I still believe that. Although…” She patted the seat next to her on the sofa. “Do sit down, dear, or at least stop pacing about as if you’re going to explode. There, that’s better. You have to understand the position I was in. I was very young – not much older than you – and I absolutely did not want a child. Not at all. But then your father— Well, let’s just say that I didn’t intend to be pregnant, but it happened anyway, and it was such awkward timing. So I did a deal with Yannassia. But then when you were born, I changed my mind completely, and I hoped every sun that she wouldn’t send for you.” She sighed. “But there we are. What’s done is done, and it can’t be undone now, however much we may want it to be.”

  I sat, hunched in misery. The logical part of my brain acknowledged the sense of it, but the less rational part was steadfastly sure that it was a betrayal of the darkest kind. My own mother gave me away to feed her ambition.

  The world had shifted under me, and I wasn’t sure it would ever go back into place.

  11: The Imperial City

  Yannassia sent for Mother and me within an hour. We were summoned to the Drashona’s private apartments, where she was changing for a formal reception that evening. She sat in a loose robe, calmly sipping wine and nibbling pastries, while a score of waiting women fussed about with gowns and lace and slippers and jewel boxes, and two more arranged her hair. Yet she talked as placidly as if we were quite alone.

  “Well, Kyra, how delightful to see you again. Do sit down. Yes, the green, Lucia. Would you like some wine? Dorinna, some wine for Lady Mage Kyra and Highness Axandrina, if you please. Did you have a comfortable journey?”

  But she was never one for small talk, so she soon got to the point. “Now, Kyra, I explained my concerns in my letter. I should very much like to understand Drina a little better. I do want her to
be happy here, you know, quite apart from any considerations of her becoming my heir in the future. Besides, she is so well here, I do not see how she can leave, not permanently. Drina thinks it has something to do with your magic. Do you agree?”

  Mother sipped her wine, and then set the glass down on a side table. “It seems very likely. When I was pregnant with Drina, there was a great deal of magic swilling about inside me – more than normal, for I was withdrawing magic from people who’d been wrongly spelled, and I had no idea how to manage that amount of power. Not then. I was just overflowing with it, and I suppose it got into her, when she was growing inside me. She must have got used to being bathed in magic, I suppose.”

  “Ah!” Yannassia said, standing to allow her women to help her into a gown. “So she missed it when she was born?”

  “I think so. I didn’t notice at first, not while she was still suckling, but as soon as she was weaned, she drooped and became terribly clingy. She wanted to hold onto me all the time. I could feel her draining magic out of me. Well, I was getting exhausted with it. She was leaching away all my power. So I tried not to touch her, but even then, I could feel her, somehow, pulling at me. I always know where she is, you know, from that little pull. It’s slight, but I’m always aware of it. And then she was just so weak and sick, and she cried all the time. It was frightening. We found that she was better in sunshine or in direct contact with the earth – they’re both sources of magic, too, although weak ones – so we encouraged her to be outside a lot. We hoped she’d grow out of it, but… it doesn’t seem that she has. Not entirely.”

  “What about the younger children?” Yannassia said.

  “I knew enough by then to reduce my magic levels while I was pregnant,” Mother said. “Markell and Sallorna showed a little of the same tendency, but they got over it very quickly. But even so, we decided not to risk having any more children.”

  I listened with growing horror. So much had been talked about and guessed, yet no one had ever explained what was wrong with me in such bald terms before.