Spells of the Curtain: Court Mage

by Tim Niederriter

  When sensation returned to his body, Edmath found himself standing at the end of a long line of people outside one of the central audience domes in one of the four outer palaces. The sun seemed to be moving past its apex now but still shone brightly out of the western sky.

  “What was that spell?” he said, as he looked down the line of waiting people. The line wasn’t as long as he first thought it to be, or maybe it was just moving quickly. With a shake of his head, he started after it. Only then did he notice the little woman standing off to one side, looking at him. She had blond hair and wore a white dress with long sleeves that trailed down past the length of her hands.

  “You reacted well to being transported.” She winked with a blue eye. “I think you were expecting it, right?”

  “Of course not. I didn’t know anyone alive could do something like that.” Edmath sighed as he looked down the line. “Which emperor am I even waiting for?”

  Smirking, the woman, more of a young girl actually, tapped her lips with her fingers.

  “I chose Saale Emperor Rumenha. After all, you are a Saale.”

  “So is Zuria. Where did you send her?”

  “Oh, she is a fighter, I could tell. I sent her to War Empress Hayel. There isn’t as long a line for her, you know. Apparently many Saales prefer to serve the emperor who shares their powers.” The girl waved her head from side to side, sending yellow hair spilling around her white gown and black sash. “Anyway, I must be getting back to the High Emperor. After all, I am his only Saale.”

  She struck the air with a be-ringed hand and the sparking of the tear came immediately. She vanished and Edmath was left to follow the line slowly into the building even as more people began to arrive behind him.

  He only had to wonder why he had never heard of the transportation ability of this young Saale before today. Such power could be extraordinarily useful in war, should Roshi attack again. Edmath frowned along the line of waiting Saales as he thought of Roshi. He was here to do research and serve at court, not to fight the nation to the west.

  The line moved quickly. It took less than an hour for Edmath to enter the audience chamber. Bright lights spilled through high windows on the second level, illuminating tapestries in the red finery clearly preferred by the current emperor. Edmath did not know if Saale Emperor Rumenha had approved of his request in the letter, but the entire struggle to get in and see him was also part of what it took to join his service. Serving the empire could be as good as life got for an orphan with no tribe, so this should be worth the trouble. All the research equipment, funding, and powers a Saale could want could be had working for a lower emperor.

  Still, he’d never heard that the High Emperor had such a bizarre lack of assistants, and the fact that his personal Saale was so young, and yet so powerful, made Edmath more curious than ever as to the nature of the man. The line moved. Edmath stood at the end of it, waiting before the final set of doors within the antechamber. He adjusted his black sash filled with nerves and wished himself luck.

  The door swung outward and Edmath stepped inside past the guard with the helm of woven white grass who had opened it. The room was long and narrow, obviously not under the dome itself, and strangely distorted by mirrors hanging on every wall and even on the ceiling. No torches lit the room, but a chandelier ringed with candles cast flickering fires in reflection across every mirror. Beyond the chandelier, the black throne of the Saale emperor sat upon a palanquin on the floor tiles. Before he could meet the gaze of the black-haired man on the throne, Edmath stopped walking and fell to one knee, bowing. The Saale Emperor shifted forward in his seat.

  “Ah, humility, a grand thing to see in the young.” Haddishal Rumenha’s voice reminded Edmath of the creaking of Orpus Strodusial’s branches, slow and even. “I see you have the yellow hair of the Worm Tribe, or perhaps of the people of Tokalgo. I see you wear a sash of graduation, not a rega. So you are not a royal, which is interesting. Yet, even in this place I can, in truth, tell very little about you without seeing your face, just as you can tell little about me without seeing mine. So raise your head.”

  Edmath did as he was told. As unusual as the Saale Emperor might be personally, his word was law in this room. He looked up at the face of the aging man on the throne, a hard face, like a stone sculpture but not as handsome. A black beard hung in braids from the emperor’s chin, crossing the red and black sashes over his chest. Haddishal Rumenha leaned forward in his seat, folding his long fingers together.

  “You are not of the Worm Tribe, are you?”

  The question cut Edmath a little. Long ago he’d tired of people commenting on his lack of a discernible tribe. After that, he adjusted by trying to care less and less about it. Knowing he was alone in that way unsettled him, making the light from the windows seem hotter and the floor harder. He met the Saale Emperor’s eyes for a moment.

  “Not that I know, Excellency. Nor am I from the island of Tokalgo. Of course, you are right that I am not a royal.”

  “Go on then. Knowing what you are not does not help me understand you much, citizen. What is your name and why are you here?”

  “I am the adopted son of the Priestess, Sampheli Mierzon. My name is Edmath Donroi, a Saale of Lexine Park, seeking employment.”

  “So you are Donroi. This is most interesting. You are the one who befriended Orpus Strodusial.” Haddishal tapped his hand against his cheek, running his little finger up his black-bearded jaw. “According to your letter you are interested in plants and plant intelligence.”

  “That is true, your Excellency.”

  “Few Saales appreciate the possibilities of plants,” said Haddishal. “But I see you are not one of those who dismiss our silent companions in life.”

  “The potential of incorporating plant forms into hybrids alone is astounding, as is the potential for crawling plants.”

  Haddishal smiled.

  “What would you prioritize in my service?”

  “Crawling plants, beginning with understanding their thoughts and granting them speech.” Edmath felt unsure of his own forthrightness at that moment. He did not know a better way to answer and wished he understood etiquette better. “I would be honored to serve you, Excellency.”

  “You may take your place for the night’s interview.” He gestured to the side of his throne with a hand. “The room beyond this one has two exits. One will take you back outside. The other will take you into the antechamber to await my arrival. Once you have displayed your skills I will choose whether or not to employ you.”

  Edmath bowed his head and raised it again, taking care to make the gesture slowly enough to be respectful rather than dismissive. Everything affected his chances at this point. “Very well, Excellency, thank you.”

  “I wish you luck, Donroi.”

  Edmath took the door into the antechamber, blessing the fates, and praying to them at the same time. The real challenge had yet to begin.

  The window of the large, bright antechamber looked out at the division’s west garden. Stone benches ran along the walls beneath the sills on either side of the room. Edmath took a seat on a bench across from the western window and watched the other Saales waiting. The serpent tribe Saale, Tusami Gesa sat by the window, dark eyes averted, which did not surprise him. The sight of the pale-skinned woman sitting on the other side of the window made him chuckle. He hadn’t expected to see the coral princess here. She looked at him in surprise, blue eyes narrowing for an instant before she smiled.

  “Edmath,” she said. “I didn’t get to congratulate you yesterday, did I?”

  “Of course not, Lady Nane, and neither did you tell me you were bound for the imperial city. This is a most pleasant surprise, Razili.”

  “I was about to tell you not to use my title.” She brushed a strand of dark hair back from her cheek and smiled. “You fool around with titles all the time, either way, Ed.”

  “Of course I do. Not having one myself I find them rather strange
and wonderful things.”

  Tusami leveled a stare at Edmath.

  “Some would call that disrespectful.”

  Edmath did his best to frown, trying to look seriously, but he rolled his eyes reflexively.

  “I suppose so, though I mean no offense, as always. I am not one to insult another, at least not intentionally. In fact, I quite dislike insults in general. They do not become anyone well.”

  Razili leaned her head against the wall behind her, looking up to hide a smile from the serpent Saale near her.

  Tusami folded her arms and closed her eyes.

  “I take it you are trying to apologize, in your own roundabout way?”

  “At least in part,” Edmath said. “Of course, it is up to you to accept or not.”

  Tusami did not answer him. She might have seemed suddenly asleep were it not for the hand clenched over the place where her rega reached her waist. Razili shook her head, but with a small smile. Edmath gave a shrug of resignation. He couldn’t be everyone’s friend, true enough. He sat down beside Razili to wait.

  Edmath wondered what had happened with Brosk’s augury on the body while he and the two women waited for the Emperor. The boy had been so afraid before he’d died. Edmath sighed softly. He’d done nothing to help. The threat of that sphere had been real. He could not afford to blame himself.

  As the sun set. more Saales entered the chamber and sat down or leaned against the walls to wait. When the emperor finally came down the hall there were nine of them in the room. A balding, hook-nosed man stood, arms crossed and eyes closed. Beside him, a pair of white-cloaked women sat together on the bench whispering to each other. The other three, two men and a woman were Hesiatic monks from the look of it.

  Each of the monks wore a single braid that hung at least to the shoulder, and on the woman, it reached all the way down her back. They each had at least one bundle of black petrified torite woven into their braid, and that worried Edmath, the monks would be able to use that to their advantage in the trials. He remembered the monks that had raised him wearing the braid of torite all too well, each a formidable Saale despite lacking the education of the major colleges. The three monks bowed lower than anyone else when the Saale Emperor appeared in the doorway, flanked by a pair of grass-masked guards.

  “Greetings, my good Saales,” the emperor said. “I am ready to see your demonstrations now. I trust you’ll forgive me for keeping you waiting. This way.” He turned his back on them, stepped to the side, and pointed down the corridor the way he had come. “Those of you who triumph will dine with me after the trials.”

  Edmath smiled, still bowed to face the floor, despite the small voice in the back of his mind telling him he could easily fail. He shut that voice out. The Saale Emperor’s motivational strategy made sense to him, and he had been getting hungry during the wait.

  He rose with the others, stole a glance at Razili and Tusami and saw them both focused on the emperors back as he started back through the corridor. The Saales followed the emperor around a corner and then another, before going up a staircase to a stone-floored courtyard beneath the starlit sky. Haddishal Rumenha and his guards marched across it and turned back to face the Saales, who stopped in their tracks.

  “Form a line, good Saales.”

  Edmath and the others did as the emperor told. He ended up next to the hook-nosed man and saw, on closer inspection that his head was shaven, not bald, the sign of an initiate of some order or other, but which, Edmath could not remember. So, another monk trained in the Saale arts. On his other side, Tusami Gesa made a show of refusing to look at him.

  “First, allow me to say, that I am honored to see so many of you here on one night. Of course, at the moment I, and the Hearth Emperor and War Empress for that matter, am only permitted to allow three Saales to join my direct service any year. Of course, the year is growing old, so I will be forced to make my choice soon. I have received letters from all of you, and so I can promise you a referral to the Saale Hierophant should you not pass my test.

  “Each one of you produce a striker your best striker, if you can.”

  Reaching to the pouch at his belt, Edmath pulled out a ring of whalebone wound with thin cords of muscle. He slipped it over his finger and looked down the row past the hook-nosed man who had produced a double ring, like Zuria’s. Further on, everyone else had a striker ring of some kind or another. Most of them were too small to see well from even at this close distance.

  “Very good,” the emperor said. “Now, demonstrate for me your ability to create a plant without damaging the terrace you stand upon. Wait until I tell you to strike, and be aware of the unusual energy currents in this courtyard. Strike.”

  Edmath brought his hand down through the air, opening a tear before his eyes. The bright colorless magic spilling out of it lit up the courtyard and cast his shadow out behind him, though he knew that part was only in his mind. The magic flowed immediately the opposite direction from Edmath, joining the current from the tears the others had opened, all going the same way. So that was it, the magic was all drawn toward the Saale Emperor in this place. It was only a guess, but Edmath had to make a decision. He sprang forward into the stream of magic, near his tear. Along the line, the others reacted slower but followed his lead into the stream. The Hesiatic monks did not follow, but each rent a new tear in the world behind themselves and started making magic signs with both hands.

  Focusing on the magic flowing into him, Edmath drew in just enough to create a new spark, the integral part of a life art like this. Opening his ringed palm, he watched a new seed appear there, cracking with the first signs of growth. Putting a bit more magic into it, he made it grow faster. With a deep breath, he started to speak to it, coaxing it to grow. His technique for life arts was unorthodox and the plant would not be shaped heavily, but it would expand as long as he fed it mana.

  He held his hand over his head and chanted encouragement for the little green sprout in it. After a few moments of continuous growth, the plant started weighing down on him. Opening his free hand, he thrust it behind his back. A root extended in that direction. He kept it growing until it reached the floor, whispering his instructions to the newly created plant as it went. And then he repeated the process, pointing to different spots on the ground each time. Soon the plant’s weight was fully supported by the roots forming a circular cage around Edmath. He kept chanting for it to grow with his eyes closed until the emperor stepped forward, sandals clicking on the stones.

  He guided them through more shaping and summoning for the next few minutes, making them strike several times each and then calling for different arts. Most of those he focused on were life arts, and though Edmath’s arm grew tired from the striking, he gained confidence with every test. Finally, Haddishal swept a hand over his head and spoke.

  “That’s enough. You have all done well, and I am ready to make my decisions.”

  Edmath released his last plant from his palm just in time to hear his name. He looked at the emperor.

  “Edmath Donroi, you are to be my first Saale. Come out from under that splendid tree you’ve been growing and stand before me. Tusami Gesa, join him as the second, and Razili Nane as the third.”

  Chest swelling with pride and excitement, Edmath parted the roots with a wave of his hand and emerged from under the tree. He strode forward and bowed to the Saale Emperor. Tusami and Razili followed him and repeated his gesture. The emperor looked at them approvingly.

  “I believe you have the most prepared and cunning minds for the work you have in store. You others.” He raised his hands and waved at the other six. “Go to the Hierophant with my blessing tomorrow and offer her your services. You are all skilled enough to work in this palace, but by law, I can only employ so many.”

  He raised his hand. Edmath glimpsed the bone and sinew-striker ring on his finger gleam in the half-light of the magic flowing around him. Haddishal Rumenha closed his eyes and the magic flowing on the terrace va
nished.

  A shower of deep red and bone white flower petals appeared in the air around them, reminding Edmath of the flowers of Orpus Strodusial back at Lexine Park. He must have sealed all the tears with a single gesture. Such speed and skill made Edmath jealous, but thirty years could teach a man many things that school could not, even about magic.

  The other Saales bowed to thank the emperor and slipped out of the courtyard past the already wilting plants they’d summoned. Saale summonings did not last long without a constant magical flow unless based on an existing life form. Stroking his beard, the emperor looked down at the three Saales before him. He was an exceptionally tall man, and their bowing made the difference greater.

  “Raise your heads.”

  Edmath, Razili, and Tusami obeyed. The emperor’s guards retreated from him, bowing low. The rising moon sent white light flowing across the courtyard, gleaming in Edmath’s glasses. He had no idea this would be so simple once he got here. Of course, he had guessed the emperor would be interested in his ability to speak to any plant or animal, but he had not imagined it would come down to such a difference so cleanly.

  “You three shall return tomorrow morning and arrangements will be made for more permanent lodgings as well as your roles now that you are in my employ, but for now, we will dine in the Ordinon.”

  A dream, this was just too perfect. Then again, perhaps Edmath’s years of study and practice had simply paid off. A hushed wind blew the leaves skyward and the emperor turned his back on them, looking up over the walls of the courtyard. Edmath swore he heard tree branches moving in the wind even before the Ordinon appeared. The structure towered over the palace walls, supported in the branches of four crawling Orpus Trees. The trees were about the same size as Orpus Strodusial but the small, circular building that joined them all at the top with long white columns of stone was itself a marvel, carved and patterned with the phases of the moon on its sides.