A Frost Maiden with a bent for bad jokes. Who would’ve believed it?
“Further,” she said, “powerful magic is gathering around you.”
“Burn it.” My hand found the latch and eased the door open. “I’m not a wizard.”
“You are a wizard, but not a powerful one on your own.”
“On my own… Look, ma’am, you know what happens when somebody tries to use magic more powerful than they can handle. They’re cinders. Or ice.”
“Not always. The king has no talent, but the magic of his position is at his command. The magic of the common mundanes was also at his command once, but as he abandoned them, their magic has abandoned him. That magic is not visible, but it is real, and strong, and has been seeking an outlet. This summer, the commoners adopted you as their new champion, and the magic is striving to use you to accomplished its ends.”
“Frostbite! Oh, damn. Sorry, ma’am. Er, Your Wisdom.”
“Should I take offence at your language? If so, three quarters of Frankland would be shivering by the fire on this, the hottest night of a torrid summer. I have lived for more than a century with the names of my guild’s tools the most provocative terms in common use, more offensive even than references to sexual acts or eternal damnation. If I dared let such language wound, I should never have shouldered the burden of this frostbitten Office.”
I gaped, then closed my mouth and swallowed, twice. “Sorry, Your Wisdom, but I don’t know what you were talking about just now. Commoners haven’t got magic. That’s why we’re commoners.”
“Nonsense. All living creatures have spirit, and will. That is the essence of life, and of magic. An individual mundane has little, but large numbers acting together have much.”
“Aye, sure. If you say so. And how do you use it?”
She spread her hands wide. “I do not know. That magic falls in the Earth Guild’s domain, and they do not share their secrets with the Water Guild.”
“And they’d share them with me instead? Nae.” I started to shake. The door rattled. I let go. “What you’re saying, ma’am, is if the Water Office doesn’t kill me, this other magic that’s building up will, because I won’t know how to use it. I’ll be in the way when it starts pushing.”
“That is…possible. More probable is that the magic will shield you, and somehow you will bring it to bear on the Water Office.”
“But you don’t know how.”
“No, I do not.”
“It’s not your life at stake here when things go bad, and you’ve already had your claws in me and mine—first Maggie and now Granny Hazel. Sorry, ma’am, but you better find some other dupe. You’ve convinced me the smartest thing for me to do is to hold the Fire Warlock to his promise to take me out of Frankland and make tracks for New London.”
Maybe I imagined her shoulders sagged. Very softly, she said, “If you will not, who will?” Water spread out at her feet.
“Wait! Ma’am…”
“Yes?”
“Granny Hazel. Does she…are you…”
“That wretched earth witch. The Water Guild owes her a debt for saving your life, but the Water Office will not let the Earth Guild suppose it will ignore others overstepping the bounds of the truce. She must pay a penalty for teaching you mindwarping. I hope you can understand that.”
“No, ma’am, I can’t. You want me to help you. If I do, will you let her go?”
She lifted her hands, fingers splayed out wide, rigid. I held my breath.
Her hands sank back to her sides. “The Water Office does not bargain. You cannot pay for her transgressions.”
“But she was just trying to help. She’s a healer. Frankland needs her. Icing her would—”
“Icing her? Don’t be ridiculous. We certainly will not deprive Frankland of a fine healer. Aiding a fugitive is not a capital crime.”
I grabbed the doorframe and held on, before my knees buckled. “Thank you, ma’am. Did she really save my life?”
“No, fool, she has to stand trial because we enjoy making people miserable.” She drew in a sharp breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it out. “I beg your pardon. That was uncalled for.”
“It’s all right, ma’am. You’re sounding more like, uh…”
“As you expected? Thank you so much.”
I winced. “Sorry, ma’am. It’s hard to know when you’re joking, when everything you say comes out sounding as cool as spring water.”
“The Fire Warlock has expressed the same complaint.” She sighed. “If Granny Hazel had not been instrumental in enabling you to evade our net, we would not need to charge her with aiding a fugitive, would we?”
“Nae, ma’am, I guess not.”
“And later, her advice to the Fire Guild let Warlocks Snorri and Quicksilver snatch you away from that fool, Cornelius, whose zeal would have brought disaster down on us. One can never say with absolute certainty what might have been, but in this case it is more than fair to say, yes, she saved your life, more than once.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m real glad to know that. But the penalties…”
“Her trial will not be held until after the Water Office is rebuilt, and I will not conduct her trial myself. That is all I can do for her. Goodnight, Master Duncan.”
Water lapped my shoes, and she was gone.
On the last day of August, the open air seared like a blast from the forge. I walked the western wall in the shadow of Storm King’s shoulder, and beat on the stone blocks with my fists. The Fortress ignored my puny strikes, and bruising my hands didn’t help shift the weight from my shoulders, or shake the homesickness. I was stuck on the southern flank of this bloody great mountain; I couldn’t even look in the direction of Nettleton, frost it!
A whistling guard below butchered one of my favourite tunes. If there’d been loose stones, I might have dropped one on his head. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like whistling.
I should have agreed to do what that water witch wanted. Being stubborn wasn’t doing me any good. If the Fire Warlock threw me out of Frankland, I’d never go home again, ever. If I were their test case, at least they would bury me in Nettleton.
Wasn’t much of a hero, was I, now that I had the chance? I didn’t like being pushed around, that was all, and first the Fire Guild, and now the Frost Maiden, too, were pushing pretty hard. The Fire Warlock I didn’t mind too much. Risking his life for Frankland gave him the right to ask others to. But the Frost Maiden…
To be fair, she wasn’t supposed to risk her life, and God knows, I’d be ashamed if a woman got hurt while I stood by and did nothing. But when the riots came, she’d be safe in her Crystal Palace, far away from the mobs. The rest of the Water Guild would be in danger, if they couldn’t get there in time, but frost me if I would risk my life for the likes of that ass Cornelius, who had done his best to see me iced.
Even after sunset, hot air filled the space between the mountain and the curtain wall with the weight of wool blankets. I cursed the weather, the Fire Warlock, the king, the forge, and the guard at supper who’d commented on Maggie’s good looks. Lying down turned my bed into a sweaty bog. I picked up my pillow and mattress and rode the stairs. Two flights short of the Fire Warlock’s study, the air turned cool. I bedded down on the landing and dreamed of water witches, cold beauties luring me to my doom.
Daybreak’s hammer-strike jolted me awake, and I rolled to my feet, swearing. The guards’ quarters behind the wall were still in deep shadow, and would be for another hour, but I had no hope of getting back to sleep. Today was September first, the day the Fire Warlock was going to demand an answer. As if I had a real choice. The answer I’d have to give made my head ache and my heart pound. And folk called me brave. Fools.
At breakfast, the cook handed out scorched toast and sludge for coffee, and barked at everyone who complained. Guards who had ribbed e
ach other at supper traded glares. A pair of sergeants came to blows when one made too much noise agreeing with the other.
Sweat fouled our grip and by mid-morning made the smithy stink like Blacksburg. The master growled at his striker and the striker snarled back. The lad working the bellows mumbled curses until a smith cuffed him for talking too much.
A lightning flash caught me in mid-swing. Blinded, I froze. Other deafened, blinded men hunting for the way out smacked into me. When I could see again, I pulled everybody’s irons out of the fire before following them out.
Babbling craftsmen and guards filled the lane between curtain wall and mountain. An officer elbowed through and climbed onto a barrel, waved his arms, and yelled for quiet. “Clear the lane. Get back to work.”
“Meaning he doesn’t know what happened either,” the smith next to me grumbled. We drifted towards the smithy, not eager to go back into the airless oven.
“It was the coven unlocking the Water Office,” another man said.
“No,” a third said, “it was lightning. The Fire Office wouldn’t let them.”
A farrier said, “It’s a sign we’ll be punished for our arrogance.”
I left them arguing and ducked in, but I’d not had my mind on my craft, and this hadn’t helped. An hour later, when the Fire Warlock’s voice in my head ordered me to the ballroom, I was ready to get it over with. I pulled my work out of the fire and put my tools away. The other smiths were doing the same, or raking out the firepit. We walked out into the lane, and joined the queue for the stairs.
In the ballroom, the guards lined up along the back wall. I took a spot in a corner, under a balcony, and looked over my shoulder at the gilt-edged mirror. Better not get too close, or Mrs Cole would chew me out for fouling the mirror with soot.
The townsfolk swarmed in on our heels. Even hurrying, almost an hour passed from the summons until everyone was packed in.
A tower of fire rose and died. The Fire Warlock stood on the stage, holding up a hand for quiet. His ring gave off waves of light, red as blood.
Blood? That was silly. Cinders don’t bleed. A corpse the Frost Maiden had iced didn’t bleed either.
The Fire Warlock crossed his arms, with the ring tucked in. “Sorry to,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and started again. “Sorry to drag you away from your work, but you need to know what happened. You felt that magical lightning bolt a while ago. We didn’t warn you it was coming, because we didn’t know what would happen. That was the lock on the Water Office being released.”
He waited with his arms crossed, unsmiling, for the noise to die. “When you leave here, make a holiday of it. It’s something to celebrate. The biggest change Frankland’s seen in a thousand years.” He walked across the stage, tugging at his beard. “I hope someday I’ll be able to join you in celebrating, but it won’t be today.
“The first Locksmith cast a black magic spell on the Office to attack the Officeholder responsible for releasing it. We knew there was danger involved, but we didn’t know exactly what it was, and Sorceress Lorraine insisted we keep it quiet to prevent rumours and panics. We had some wild rumours anyway. What actually happened wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was bad enough.”
He wiped his eyes. “Sorceress Lorraine looked like she’d run into a lunatic with a meat cleaver. She has dozens of gashes on her right side—her torso and leg, but the worst…”
He stood still for a few seconds with his eyes closed. “The worst was her right arm. It was hacked to bits. It isn’t there anymore.”
With my eyes closed, I saw a woman awash in blood. I backed into the mirror and put my hands over my ears, but couldn’t block out his voice.
His voice shook. “The Locksmith was burned, all over, the worst I’ve ever seen. All that’s left of her right arm is charred bone. The power needed to release the lock was tremendous—much more than she had ever handled before—but no one else could.
“Those two witches came close to dying, but they’re going to live. Warlock Quicksilver… My friend Jean…” The ballroom might have been empty, it was so quiet. “Quicksilver let down his own shields to take the brunt of the blast for his wife. We don’t know yet if he’s going to live or die.”
The Fire Warlock pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. Turned his eyes towards the ceiling. “Sorceress Lorraine and the two warlocks were the only people injured. For which we should be grateful, I suppose. The Earth Guild has its best healers at work on them. It will be a while before we know what they can do.”
He walked to the back of the stage, then returned to the edge, facing us. “There’s something else you need to know. The Locksmith read the spell two years ago and warned us about the dangers. Both witches have known for two years that releasing the lock might kill them, but the country is in so much trouble they said we had to go ahead and do it. Don’t let anybody tell you someone made them do it. It was their decision. They told the rest of the coven they believed they had to. This is why the Locksmith and Warlock Quicksilver have been calling down the lightning every night since they got back from their honeymoon. They’ve been building up the amount of power she could handle to give her a chance of surviving. He expected to die today, and would have considered it a fair price, as long as she lived.
“These three are the biggest heroes Frankland has had in centuries. Anybody who says anything disrespectful about any of them, Sorceress Lorraine included, will have to answer to me. Understand?”
Heads nodded. Voices whispered, “Yes, sir.”
He roared, “Do you understand?”
We roared, “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Any questions?”
A wizard near the front raised a shaking hand. “What about rebuilding the Water Office? Can they do that without the Frost…Sorceress Lorraine, that is?”
“It’ll be better if she can help, but she has a trained apprentice, and the Water Guild Council knows what’s needed. She made sure beforehand they could handle it without her, since she thought she might not survive.
“Everybody involved is in too much shock—and the Earth Guild is too busy—to start on it today. They’ll tear it down as soon as Mother Celeste decides she can spare a mage from tending the wounded.”
A guard a few paces from me was next. “Is there anything we can do for Miss Lucinda, uh, I mean, Mrs, uh, the Locksmith?”
The Fire Warlock said, “She’ll blister your ears, George, if you ever stop calling her Miss Lucinda. But no, there’s nothing you can do. You’d just get in the healers’ way.”
“But you said her arm was ruined. If the Earth Guild could put it on her, I’d let her have mine.”
I gaped at the guard. The townsfolk turned to stare.
Another guard yelled, “That’s a damn-fool idea. How’d she look with your big, hairy arm on her little shoulder?”
Other guards shouted the second one down. “She can have mine. I’m smaller—it’d fit better.” “The Frost Maiden could have my arm.”
“Quiet!” the Warlock roared. “George, that’s very generous of you, but it wouldn’t work. The fit matters—matters a lot, I’d guess. I hadn’t been planning on saying anything yet, but the Earth Guild is trying to regrow her own arm.”
The muttering grew to a roar. A captain shouted over the din. “Your Wisdom, we’ve all sworn to serve the country, at the cost of our own lives if necessary. I think I speak for all my men, that giving up a hand or an arm seems like a small sacrifice…”
Pompous ass. The guard, now, I respected him. It couldn’t be easy to make an offer like that. If I lost my arm, I wouldn’t be a smith any longer, and I wouldn’t know how to be anything else. Might as well be dead.
The Fire Warlock disappeared. I rested my head against the mirror and stared at the painted salamanders dancing across the underside of the balcony. They turned disgusted eyes on me, calling me coward.
A door slamming echoed in the empty ballroom. I hadn’t noticed them leaving. I caught up to the stragglers, waiting their turn on the stairs, but my feet carried me past and put me on the stairs going up. I came out of my daze only when I reached the door to the Fire Warlock’s study. I tilted my head back and gawked at the lintel far out of reach. I should have noticed when I’d been there before, but I’d had too many other shocks then. The only reason to make a door that tall would be to scare the dickens out of everybody coming to see the Fire Warlock. I set my jaw. I didn’t have to prove it worked.
The doors swung open. The Fire Warlock said, “Come on in, Master Duncan.”
I marched to his desk and looked down at him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face haggard. He had his chin on his left hand, staring down at the other, stretched out on his desktop. His ring’s deep red pulsing made my eyes water.
The Warlock slapped his left hand over the ring. “What do you want?”
“You don’t need to ask. You knew I was here.”
“I’m not a mind reader. Nobody steps on that last flight without the Fortress letting me know they’re coming. That’s all. What can I do for you?”
“Oh. Well. You said you were going to ask me again after she’d unlocked the Water Office. When you said come to the ballroom, at first I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Yeah, I did say that.” The Warlock frowned at his hands. “I hadn’t thought about you at all today, until just now. You should be grateful. So, what’s it going to be?”
“If you’ll do something for me, you can take my case to the Frost Maiden, Your Wisdom.”
His expression lightened. “I knew you’d come around. Didn’t have much choice after today’s news, did you? Couldn’t let yourself be bested by a guard, or worse, a couple of women.”
The Blacksmith Page 23
