"If I could trace them out, I suppose," he said, trying to puzzle out the nearest sigil. Three spokes, so it would be an action…
"Don't be stupid." Auri, avoiding the Sigillic, crossed to tug on his arm. "You can't maintain a casting like this nearly—" She broke off, and went back to her chair, kneeling down to peer underneath it.
"What?"
"Come see."
Her cheek was shining blue, reflecting a strong light source beneath the chair. Fallon hurried to poke his nose around the other side of the chair's leg, and found that the light was coming from the base of the chair, from a sphere embedded into the wood.
"I did it after all," Auri said, reaching out to stroke the curve before Fallon could object. "It's warm."
"I don't think that's a focus," Fallon said. "It looks dark, not clear."
"What else could it be? I read that Lady Rennyn's focus is black. Maybe I accidentally summoned the way she did." She smiled, and poked the sphere again. "It feels good."
Resting back on his heels, Fallon murmured the cut-off for the detect Sigillic. "I guess this is progress. I'll dig it out in the morning."
"And then go find out what you can about Lady Rennyn's students."
"That too, for all the good it'll do me. None of them are in the city."
"They'll have to come back for her annunciation as Duchess. You can do it, Fallon."
He'd have to. Without being able to read the structure of Auri's Sigillic, he had little chance of understanding just what had gone wrong. And even if he stumbled upon a solution, his ability to cast was greatly limited by the strain Auri constantly placed on him. Nor would it be sufficient to somehow enlist the help of his teachers, or the Hand mages, or even the Grand Magister. He needed an expert in the Eferum, and there was only one mage considered so brilliant, so revolutionary, so sheerly powerful, that she would have any hope of saving a girl trapped in a dream he couldn't admit to.
If Auri was ever to find her way back to this world, they needed Rennyn Claire.
CHAPTER TWO
Kendall Stockton returned to Captain Faille's quarters to discover her so-called teacher standing daydreaming on a footstool while a pair of dressmakers scuffled around her feet fooling with her hem. Really, there were times Rennyn Claire acted almost as silly as she'd pretended to be when Kendall had met her.
Not bothering to point out the obvious to someone who couldn't be trusted with stairs and frequently came over dizzy and had to sit down, Kendall instead looked over the dress.
"It's not as fancy as I expected," she said, considering the floaty, dark blue sleeves and the tiny silver flowers embroidered on the broad black waistband. Not bad, though it failed hide that Rennyn was still too thin, and it was cut low enough to show neck and shoulders. Rennyn didn't exactly try to hide her throat, but she rarely wore anything that gave a good look at the scar left by her demon uncle. "Wasn't it supposed to be green?"
"This is just for today's audience." Rennyn glanced down at her dress as if she hadn't really thought about it yet. She was the type who would wear exactly the same thing every day, if no-one poked at her.
This dress was a good deal more like what a nearly-Duchess would wear than the plain skirt, blouse and jacket Rennyn usually went about in, but she still didn't look as expensive as most of the ladies Kendall had glimpsed flitting through the palace. Her teacher's long black hair was caught back from the sides with a dark ribbon and the rest hung down her back same as always—she never tried to do anything with it. If Kendall had hair so nice and straight, instead of a mop of dirty blonde curls, she wasn't sure she would bind it up in braids either. Though it was probably just that all the braiding the Court ladies liked was too much effort for Rennyn at the moment.
"How long have you been standing on that?" Kendall asked, handing Rennyn the newssheet she'd been carrying.
"Not long. For this dress." Rennyn's smile was totally unconvincing. She glanced down at the newssheet and added: "Why does everyone draw me so short?"
While Rennyn wasn't as unnecessarily tall as her husband, she definitely wasn't small, so the most likely reason was the people making the newssheet didn't care. The picture was nothing new: a drawing of a black-haired, dark-eyed woman dangling from puppet-strings held by a shadowy figure with claws, his arms and legs all long and spidery. Rennyn and her Kellian husband Captain Faille. While the picture properly got across the idea that Captain Faille was a scary man, anyone who thought Rennyn the least bit like a puppet really didn't have a clue.
Kendall didn't know why her teacher even bothered to read the sheets, though she did privately feel Rennyn had been out of her head, or at least not thinking things through, when she'd insisted on marrying Captain Faille before she'd even been able to get out of her sick bed. People had already distrusted the Kellian for being descended from magical constructs called golems, and not properly human. When the Black Queen—who had centuries ago created the first Kellian—had taken control of their descendants during her attempted return, every suspicion seemed confirmed, for all that the Kellian had had no choice in the matter. A ridiculously powerful mage like Rennyn Claire up and marrying one—in an evening ceremony in the infirmary with the bride propped into a sitting position, her face still black with bruises—well, of course people would say she'd been taken advantage of and start making a fuss. Rennyn was too used to acting like the Boss of the World to imagine anyone would think she could be bullied into getting married.
Kendall noticed the blue sleeves had acquired a distinct tilt. "You need to sit down now."
Rennyn straightened. Kendall just caught her change of expression, but as usual her teacher immediately tried to hide how upset not being able to do anything much made her. "Can you finish it with me sitting down?" she asked the dressmakers.
"Of course, Your Grace. I've pinned the level."
Rennyn needed help stepping down off the stool, and blinked and swayed a bit more while Kendall kept her upright. Knowing the looks she'd get if she let Her High and Mightiness fall over, Kendall made sure to keep hold of her elbow until she'd settled in one of the chairs by the window.
"It won't be much longer, Your Grace," said one of the dressmakers: the older, less-snooty one who looked like a pigeon stuffed into ruby silk. No-one was supposed to call Rennyn 'Your Grace' yet—not officially—but a lot of people did anyway. The huge amount Rennyn was spending on too many clothes—not just for herself but for her brother and husband, and for Kendall and her fellow student Sukata as well—made the dressmaker extra keen to please. Rennyn probably didn't even notice, since she had her eyes closed and was taking long, deep breaths. She was supposed to be having an audience with the Queen that morning, and should have known better than to tire herself out before she even reached the Old Palace.
After a while she opened her eyes and began annoying herself with the newssheet again, carefully reading all of a long playbill for something called "The Black Queen". How a bunch of players could hope to 'Reveal All about the Return of Queen Solace' Kendall didn't know, and wondered if there was any way she could sneak off to see them try.
"There you are, Your Grace," said the plump dressmaker, clambering to her feet with just enough effort to show that scuffling about on her knees had been an especial favour. "I will make the adjustments to the other dresses, and have them to you soonest. Are you certain in regards to the decoration of the Court Gown?"
Kendall knew Rennyn's main interest in the gown she was going to wear to be made Duchess was that it wasn't heavy. Green and white for the Surclere colours and no and no and no again to all the other things the dressmakers said formal Court dresses had to have. While they were occupied, Kendall spotted a long jacket which she guessed was meant to be hers, and swapped it for her coat, checking that it would fasten up the front with the black wood oblongs that passed through little loops. Very spick, fitting exactly over the new trousers and crisp shirt that were already on the list of all the things Kendall planned to pay Rennyn for after s
he started earning.
Before the dressmakers could do more than notice, Kendall had it unfastened and off, and then made herself scarce until the pair staggered out under their load of pricey cloth. She had no wish to have them tut over her again with all their comments about how adorable she'd look in a dress and what a shame it was she didn't grow her hair long. They could take their dainty and shove it up their petite.
Rennyn had made almost as many faces as Kendall while the dressmakers had been saying that, trying not to laugh. But right now she was expressionless, sitting staring out the window, one of her hands closed on the skirt of her new dress, creasing it. Kendall wondered if she could be nervous about her audience with the Queen, or just fretting because Captain Faille wasn't with her.
"Are you going to be able to go to this meeting?"
"Sitting down and drinking tea? I think I can manage that."
Kendall's shrug was an unspoken "don't say I didn't warn you", but she bent to help Rennyn with her shoes anyway. Rennyn's broken ribs hadn't healed properly, and she still had problems with bending and twisting. And laughing and sneezing and coughing and a surprising number of things. At least when she stood up she was steadier on her feet. No swaying as she turned, smoothing the line of her skirt.
"Tell me when you get done preening," Kendall said. "I'm sure Queen Astranelle won't mind the wait."
"You're planning on coming along?"
"There's a pair of guards hanging about to march you up there, but I'll go as far as the Old Palace with you." Been ordered to, more like. Whenever Captain Faille couldn't sit around watching Rennyn, he made everyone take turns following her about. Not that Kendall wouldn't have thought of it anyway. Rennyn would hate fainting somewhere on the way to see the Queen, and not having anyone she knew around.
"Is Seb still at the library?" Rennyn asked, making a snail's business of the stairs down to the main hall of the Sentene barracks.
"Be there all year," Kendall replied shortly. She had no interest in the spellbooks Rennyn was gifting to the Houses of Magic, and no patience for the endless fuss over the mouldy old things. Except for a couple, Rennyn had said there wasn't much in them which hadn't already been done by someone else, and done better. It was stupid for everyone in the Houses to get so excited just because Rennyn's family had had the only copies.
As they crossed the main hall, she searched again for some sign of life in the barracks. "Where is everyone? Sukata said she had to go to a big meeting."
"It wasn't a Sentene meeting," Rennyn replied, but then closed her mouth tight as they met up with the two black and gold-clad guards come to escort her to the Queen.
A Kellian meeting then. Kendall closed her own mouth as well, and kept it that way. She could guess well enough why the Kellian were meeting. People were really and truly afraid of them right now, and not just because the Black Queen had been able to control them so totally. They were a lot stronger and faster than normal people, and the pointy fingernails were harder to overlook now that a few people in Court had seen how easily they could be used to cut through flesh. The newssheets and people in the Council had turned into braying asses about the risk the Kellian posed, and totally ignored the fact that the people they wanted to get rid of were busy saving their lives. It was because they were strong and fast that they were so good at hunting down the monsters out of the Hells—the place the mages called the Eferum. And they hadn't done anything wrong by choice, had been totally under the control of the Black Queen, hadn't even hurt anyone except Rennyn. But it was as if this was the first time the majority of Tyrland had really noticed the Kellian, even though they'd been around working as Sentene for ages. So there was all this talk about whether the Kellian counted as real people when the first ones had been things called golems, made by the Black Queen. Whether they could be trusted. Whether they should be killed.
Whether Rennyn owned them.
None of the Kellian had been happy to learn descendants of the Black Queen existed, and though they put a good face on it, they still hadn't recovered from discovering that Rennyn had inherited an ability to command them. Most of them avoided coming near her.
Sukata, who had more to do with Rennyn because she was a rare Kellian mage, said they hated what she represented about themselves. And Sukata wouldn't even talk about what it had been like to be taken over by the Black Queen, but she'd had nightmares most every night she and Kendall had shared a room at Rennyn's old house, and the memory surely made Rennyn's lesser control harder to bear.
No-one had told Kendall it was a secret Kellian meeting. Probably Sukata wasn't allowed to. Obviously they were going to talk over the choices they had when their ungrateful country wanted them gone, and no doubt what to do about Rennyn and Sebastian and the Claires' evil uncle as well. Kendall was nobody who would get invited to that kind of thing, or told what was decided.
Frowning, Kendall checked Rennyn's colour. She was walking slower, and it would probably be best if she sat down and rested somewhere before going on. Villemar Palace wasn't a single building, but a mismatched clunch of them sitting on top of the central hill of Asentyr, with a big wall all around. The part called the Houses of Magic wasn't that far from the Old Palace, where the royal family lived, but Rennyn was useless at any kind of distance. Kendall had known ancient grandmothers who had more stamina.
Since they were running a little late, Kendall bet Rennyn didn't want to stop like any sensible person would, so she caught at the woman's hand and arranged it on her shoulder. The way the thin fingers tightened told Kendall just how well Rennyn was managing, but she'd stick to it anyway. After being so powerful she could pretty much do whatever she liked, Rennyn was just too stubborn to accept being so weak she couldn't get from one building to the next without help.
Kendall had only been intending to go as far as the entrance, but kept on until Rennyn was safely stowed in a flower-striped chair in a flower-striped room looking dubiously at the delicate flowery cups neatly laid out for tea. Kendall knew her teacher would be thinking of all the problems she'd had dropping things. Not often recently, but her hands still shook when she tired. Fortunately there was no sign of the Queen.
"Have you done your practice today?" Rennyn asked abruptly.
"Not yet," Kendall replied, annoyed. "The bowls aren't going anywhere." For a whole month now she'd been doing the same thing, and though it was far more than Kendall had ever expected to do, it was achingly dull and pointless. Putting five wooden bowls in a row and lifting and turning them one after another was enough to kill anyone's enthusiasm for magic, and Kendall hadn't had much to start with. No-one would pay her for turning bowls over.
"I've a different exercise for you then," Rennyn said, in the extra-reasonable tone Kendall distrusted. "Seb brought a small chest up to Illidian's quarters. The contents are in poor condition since it wasn't under any form of preservation—there's cloth gone rotten and turning to powder. Take it out to the Sentene practice ground and try unpacking it without touching it. You can toss the rotted cloth, and sort the rest into colours."
Kendall shrugged, but decided this meant Rennyn was feeling better now she was sitting down. "Do I have to do it out in the practice ground?"
"Since there doesn't seem to be any way to unpack it without getting everything in the vicinity filthy, yes."
"All right."
Suppressing her irritation, Kendall headed out, wishing she hadn't decided to stick out playing student while Rennyn was still sick. When Sukata's mother, Captain Sarana, had withdrawn her daughter from Tyrland's best school of magic and made formal arrangements with Rennyn for Sukata to be her student, Kendall hadn't resisted the same arrangement being made for her because she thought she'd learn more than she had staying in the annoying and useless Arkathan. Huge mistake.
Rennyn and Sebastian were both totally in love with how magic worked, and kept trying to get Kendall to understand how to create original spells, when all Kendall wanted to do was learn how to cast the common ones sh
e could get paid for, like how to create the protective Circles around settlements, and make light and heat and cold stones. She was the wrong sort of student for Rennyn and everyone knew it. And felt the need to tell her.
A mage like Rennyn Claire deserves the best students the Arkathan can offer. Don't you see, the time she spends teaching you the basics could be put to better use? Such a pity. Such a waste.
Those were just the outright rude, but most of the conversations she'd been having lately hadn't been any more fun. Kendall had had more than enough of mages telling her how lucky she was, and to be properly grateful, and never once minding their own business. Maybe worst of all was Sebastian trying to make her catch his enthusiasm for how things worked, so that she could be a fancy-pants 'true' mage instead of what he called a 'rote' mage.
Rennyn at least didn't do that. She just said that Kendall could decide what kind of mage she wanted to be after she had a command of the basics, and that memorising a bunch of spells someone else had made up wasn't the basics. But so far that had meant absolutely nothing but boring lifting exercises and lectures, and if Rennyn hadn't been so sick, Kendall wouldn't have stayed a day. She'd already made plans to find a better fit of teacher after Rennyn had recovered some more. She'd miss Sukata doing that, but Sukata would understand, and it's not like they wouldn't be able to meet up. No, it was the smart thing to do. Kendall would grit her teeth and put up with being a charity case until then.
Back in Captain Faille quarters she changed out of her best clothes. Finding the chest behind a chair, Kendall carried it down to the sandy triangle where the Kellian came and danced around each other with swords, and their supporting Ferumguard sharpened their musket skills. Fortunately no-one was about, since Kendall hated practicing with an audience. Not only because it had taken her so long to get the things she was trying to move to do what she wanted, but because everyone was all too interested. Rennyn was—or had been—the most powerful mage in centuries. And not only that, she and Sebastian did magic differently from everyone else, using three methods instead of just the one that was safest. It was hard to concentrate when people watched you as if you were about to give away some great big secret.
The Sleeping Life (Eferum Book 2) Page 2
