Thief's Magic

by Trudi Canavan

  The air was colder here, and now that they were at rest she began to shiver a little. Breca emerged with three plates of steaming food. On each was a generous serving of bread, baked meat and root vegetables. Sa-Gest frowned when he saw that Rielle had been given the same as he and Sa-Mica, but the scarred priest said nothing and began to eat, not even pausing when Breca returned with three mugs of iquo.

  Nobody spoke as they ate. The meat tasted wonderful, though perhaps that was because she had craved it so long. Narmah … as the name entered her mind Rielle was pierced by guilt and sadness … Narmah had told her when she had her first bleed that regular servings of meat would help ease the weakness that could accompany it. That sent a twinge of concern through her that rapidly expanded to apprehension as she counted the days on the road. They had travelled for so long that she was overdue. Lack of good food and unaccustomed exertion could cause such a delay. Rielle drank the iquo quickly, trying not to consider the other possibility.

  All too soon Sa-Mica had them walking out of the hamlet. The other effect of travelling for so long without sustaining food was that the iquo had affected her more than usual. Maybe that was the intention. Maybe it was meant to keep her so relaxed or off balance that she wouldn’t attempt to escape at the last moment. But as the effects slowly wore off she realised that was not the case. Even in her weary state, she would sober up before she arrived.

  The road wound back and forth as it climbed the end of the valley, then plunged through a crack in the left side to emerge into another, deeper valley. She could see it continuing on, carved into the undulating side of the steep right-hand wall, disappearing into folds then emerging again. Looking even further beyond, she could see where the wall was vertical, extending further out into the valley. The jagged shape at the outermost point was too regular to be natural.

  The Mountain Temple, she thought, shivering at the sight. The gloom expanded within her until she was sick and bloated with it. Where I’ll spend the rest of my life.

  Something inside her rebelled and she had to resist a mad urge to run back down the road. There’s no point, she told herself. I wouldn’t make two steps before Sa-Mica stopped me. The chain around her neck felt heavy. She made herself look down and count her steps. She tried to keep her mind blank. When she failed at that, she tried to recall all the stories that Sa-Mica had told her. She imagined herself painting the valley from the hamlet, choosing colours, grinding pigment, mixing it to Izare’s formula, combining colours, preparing the board, applying it …

  A call shattered her concentration. Sa-Mica stopped and looked back. Turning, Rielle saw a young man hurrying towards them and felt an irrational pang of hope. A rescuer? Don’t be ridiculous. She didn’t recognise him, but he wore similar clothing to the man who had served them their meal. They waited in silence as he caught up with them.

  “Sa-Mica,” he panted. “A man named Dorth arrived soon after you left, and asked for you. He says he has a message for you. He’s waiting at Breca’s.”

  Sa-Mica frowned. He looked at Rielle, then at Sa-Gest, then at the messenger. Finally he sighed and nodded.

  “I will go back.” He waved towards the hamlet. “Please return and tell him I am coming to meet him, but can only stop briefly.”

  The man hurried away.

  Sa-Mica faced Sa-Gest. “Wait here. I will be back as soon as I have received the message.” He added something else in a murmur.

  “I will.” Sa-Gest held the scarred priest’s gaze, his expression all respect and obedience.

  Satisfied, Sa-Mica set off after the messenger, his pace faster than before thanks to the downward slope. Rielle watched him until he turned a corner and disappeared. At the edge of her vision she could see Sa-Gest watching her, but she ignored him. Her heart was racing. Was this the opportunity she had hoped for?

  The prison lay ahead. A cliff lay to her left and a sheer wall to her right. The only other way open to her was the road back to the hamlet, on which she was bound to encounter Sa-Mica.

  “No sense standing around in the sun if we don’t have to,” Sa-Gest said, then removed his pack, walked over to the rock wall and sat down on a natural, if narrow, shelf shaded by an overhang. It was wide enough for two. He patted the space beside him.

  Taking off her pack, she walked over to the wall a few strides from him and found a relatively smooth area to lean against. She stared out over the valley. Since it meant twisting around to look at her, the priest left off staring after a while and did the same.

  The opposite wall of the valley was as steep, but without a road slicing into the rock it was featureless. She found herself wishing Sa-Mica had picked somewhere with a nicer view to leave them. Birds dipped and soared overhead and out in the valley. She had no idea what kind they were. A large one circled above, then swooped and plucked a smaller bird out of a flock. It then glided across the valley, shrinking to a tiny dot before landing on the opposite wall. Looking closer, she realised it had built a nest there.

  “Not far to go now,” Sa-Gest said. He was tapping his fingers on his knees in a quick, impatient rhythm.

  Her stomach sank. He was bored, and whatever he thought up for entertainment was likely to be unpleasant for her, even if he did heed Sa-Mica’s warning not to touch her.

  “Not long before you know the truth,” Sa-Gest continued. “Then you’ll regret you didn’t take my advice.”

  She ignored him. It would not dissuade him from taunting her, but if he wanted to bait her she would make it as hard as possible.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” He chuckled. “Oh, you’re in for quite a surprise.”

  He looked out over the valley for a while. Just as she began to think he had found something else to distract him, he stood and turned to her.

  “It’s not too late, you know. It’ll take Sa-Mica a while to get back to that village and return again. If you follow my instructions we can be done before he gets back.”

  She looked away. Sa-Gest chuckled. He walked a little way past her, then back again. His gaze fixed on the prison. “We’re so close,” he said quietly, as if to himself. Then he turned and strolled downhill again. “There’s really nowhere for you to go now. The road ends at the Mountain Temple. I doubt you can climb that wall behind you and the only other option is to throw yourself off the cliff. Which I won’t let you do – and I’d enjoy having an excuse to restrain you.”

  He stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “So I can see no reason to keep the truth from you. After all, you ought to have a chance to ready yourself for your new life.”

  He took a step closer. Rielle kept her gaze averted and steeled herself for whatever lie he had come up with to taunt her.

  “You want to know what happens to the tainted?” he asked. “It depends on your sex. If you’re a man you can pledge your life to the Angels and become a priest. There’s a long and unpleasant cleansing ritual, of course, and they keep an eye on you. But they want tainted men to become priests. It keeps the magical ability in our bloodlines strong.”

  He took another step towards her. “But, of course, women can’t become priests.”

  A step closer. “They can strengthen our bloodlines in other ways, though.”

  Rielle’s body went cold despite her determination to disbelieve him. She held onto her composure. With gritted teeth.

  Sa-Gest came a little closer and lowered his voice. “You see, the reason we don’t kill the tainted, the reason we take you far away and keep your location a secret is that the Mountain Temple is a big priest-breeding whorehouse.”

  Nausea gripped her. It could not possibly be true. He was taunting her again. Trying to frighten her into doing what he wanted.

  “Not at all worried, are you? Sa-Mica has done his job well, with his stories and his appearance of kindness. I have to admire him for it.”

  To her relief, he moved away. The tension in her eased a little. If he tried to touch her she’d fight him. He crouched by his pack, opened it and took out a fo
lded piece of paper or parchment yellowed with age. Straightening, he turned to face her.

  “I can prove it to you. This is a letter from the superior of the Mountain Temple that was delivered along with me to the Fyre Temple when I was a boy. It says my mother was chosen by my father for her strong magical ability. My father was one of the senior priests, my mother one of the prisoners. He says their offspring should become a powerful priest.”

  He unfolded it and held it out to her. With fear coiling in her stomach, she read it, then read it again. Then examined it closely. Was it a forgery? The paper was good quality. The ink had faded as much as good-quality ink would in that time, but the words they formed filled her with horror … the woman named Derina, the tainted sent from Fyre five years ago … called him Gest … allowed to nurse him but as this is no place to raise a child …

  “Why do you think I was so eager to return to the Mountain Temple?” Sa-Gest told her. “I was born and raised here.”

  Rielle shook her head. It couldn’t be. It was too incredible. Too horrible.

  “Why do you think Sa-Mica hasn’t told you anything? You wouldn’t have co-operated. Those stories are meant to make you trust him and think he cares about you. It is easier dealing with a co-operative prisoner than one who isn’t.”

  Which was exactly what Sa-Mica had told Sa-Gest on the second day of their journey.

  Sa-Gest laughed. “Think about it. Why would I want to return to a remote prison up in the cold mountains if there wasn’t a payoff?”

  A memory rose of Sa-Mica’s response to Sa-Baro’s warning about Sa-Gest. “Rest assured, the Mountain Temple is the only appropriate place for men like him, isolated from the innocents he would harm here.”

  Sa-Gest folded the letter and was putting it away. “They gave me this to make sure I knew which one was my own mother. Even I am not that depraved.”

  His words were barely audible over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. The corruption among priests she’d learned about since meeting Izare had been shocking, but this was both cruel and immoral. She could not imagine men like Sa-Baro condoning it. Unless he didn’t know …

  But the letter proved that the priests at Fyre did know. And Sa-Mica must know. What had the priest from the village down at the mountain’s feet said? “It gives me hope that you, born and raised in that terrible place, came out a better man than most.” Then he had said something about getting the truth from Sa-Mica.

  The truth. That the prison was a place where women were forced to bear the children of priests. A fate that she was …

  “But I can’t have children…” she began, her determination not to speak shattering.

  Sa-Gest straightened. “Can’t you? Did you ruin your life and that of everyone you care about by using magic, and fail at healing yourself?” He shook his head and came closer. “The priests will have a go at fixing you. If it doesn’t work,” he shrugged, “I guess you’ll become the fill-in when the other women are all fat and ugly with child. That’s what they usually do with the infertile ones.”

  Rielle shook her head. “It can’t be true.” It can’t be true.

  “Oh, yes it is.” He grinned. “I can’t wait to see your face when you get there, and you see it all for yourself.” He rubbed his crotch. “And Sa-Mica is likely to be back any moment. I’m afraid you’ve lost your chance to get on my good side.”

  Her heart stopped. She looked back down the road. If she confronted Sa-Mica, would he have another explanation for the letter Sa-Gest had shown her? What if he didn’t? What if he lied and she arrived to find out Sa-Gest was right?

  Then it would be too late. It was already too late. She had nowhere to run. The road led to the prison in one direction and to Sa-Mica in another. She couldn’t scale the wall. The other choice was to leap off the cliff. She thought of the future that awaited her.

  I have no future. None. I’d rather have oblivion than live with Angels that allow this to be.

  Closing her eyes, she reached out as the corrupter had taught her. This time she did not pluck magic from close by, but stretched unrestrained into the air and rock around her. She would need a lot of magic to get past Sa-Gest, and she did not need to hide the Stain. She felt her awareness expand until she was dizzy. Then she opened her eyes and drew all the magic into herself.

  The world went black.

  Her senses shifted, adjusting faster than her eyes could adapt to a dark room. Sa-Gest stood in front of her, his expression shifting from glee to surprise. He reached out towards her with both hands. She had no idea how to shape the energy coiled within her, so she imagined a great wind like those that sometimes battered Fyre, and thrust it at him.

  The air ripped and tore, making a sound so loud it hurt her ears. Sa-Gest’s head snapped down and his legs and arms shot forward. She blinked, and he had vanished.

  Silence followed. A silence so complete she feared she had turned deaf. Not that it would matter, since she intended to die. Pushing away from the wall, she took an unsteady step forward, then another, slowly approaching the edge. She looked around for Sa-Gest, but he was not on the road.

  The emptiness of Stain was everywhere. She could see no end to it.

  I pushed him. Did I push him over the edge?

  Reaching the precipice, she looked down. It was a long way to the bottom. She searched for Sa-Gest’s body, but he could be any one of the dark points scattered over the valley floor.

  If I did, then I’ve killed someone. Worse: I’ve killed a priest. With magic. A crime for which she would be executed. Not that it mattered. She stepped up to the edge, trying to gather the courage and will to lean forward and let herself fall.

  “Rielle.”

  She started so violently she lost her balance. Terror filled her as she slipped, but something pushed her away from the edge, propelling her back onto the road. Staggering, catching her balance, she whirled around to face Sa-Mica.

  He was several steps away, bent over with hands braced on knees, gasping for breath. He had been running, she realised.

  “Where … is … Sa- … Gest?” he panted.

  She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. A small step to the side and she’d be free. But before she did, she would have him finally answer a question.

  “Is it true that the priests at the Mountain Temple force women to bear their children?”

  He flinched and a look of pain and guilt tightened his face. Her insides turned to liquid. Sa-Gest had not been lying.

  “It was,” he told her. He straightened. “It no longer is.”

  Was? What trickery is this? “Sa-Gest said—”

  “Sa-Gest doesn’t know. I let him believe it so he would come here willingly. I cannot manage two prisoners at the same time.”

  “Prisoners? You were going to imprison him?”

  He nodded. “For intimidating women into sexual encounters.” He paused. “He was trying to blackmail you, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes. He said he would make trouble for Izare and my family if I … didn’t co-operate.”

  He looked around. “Where is he?”

  Rielle swallowed, then looked towards the drop. His eyes widened and he moved to the edge. After searching for a while he shook his head, but as his gaze rose he stiffened, staring across the valley.

  “Oh, Angels. It really was you who used the magic,” he said and turned to stare at her.

  “Yes. Again,” she admitted, her voice shaking. Far, far more magic than she could ever replace. “I had to prevent him stopping me from…” She shivered. Even if Sa-Mica was lying, she was still doomed. I killed someone with magic. But a traitorous shiver of hope went through her. What if he wasn’t lying?

  “You’ve stripped this side of the mountain,” he pointed out. “There is no more magic left to take. When I encountered the edge of the Stain I drew in as much power as I could.”

  She nodded as she understood what he was telling her. He could stop her jumping off the cliff. He could force her to go
with him to the Mountain Temple. Dread awoke and curled within her stomach. As he started walking towards her the gloom settled over her again.

  “Why did you believe Sa-Gest when you knew he would say anything to coerce you?” he asked.

  “He had a letter detailing his parentage.” She pointed to Sa-Gest’s pack.

  He grimaced. “Ah. That. He was supposed to leave it behind.” He sighed. “How can I convince you that the Mountain Temple is no longer the place he described? Such evil cannot last. The Angels would not condone it.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why would I? So long as you didn’t know there was anything to fear it was more important to keep Sa-Gest co-operative.”

  “Would you have told me, if he hadn’t been with me?”

  “Not unless you’d heard of the prison’s past.” His lips twitched into a grim smile. “One thing is still true: the tainted must be brought here and there is no point terrifying them with stories of their predecessors’ fate.” His gaze moved beyond her. “You must trust me, Rielle. Or at least not lose hope.”

  Hearing a noise, she looked over her shoulder. Four priests were walking down the road from the temple, their faces creased with worried frowns.

  “What hope have I now?” she said, turning back to Sa-Mica and gesturing at their surroundings. “I am more tainted than ever and I … I just killed a priest. With magic. I’ll be executed.”

  The unscarred side of his lips quirked upwards. “You defended yourself against a criminal we had already decided to remove from our ranks. And the magic … it can be rectified. Though it will take much longer than before. Still, that is all for the head of the temple to decide.” He closed the distance between them. “The one who ended the evil. You will be judged, Rielle, but I promise you will be judged fairly and with mercy.”