Magience: second edition

by Cari Silverwood

  Things were less exciting after that.

  Day after day dawned and each time Ellinca awoke on her deliciously scented pillow to find her heart still pumping. It became clear she was to be kept alive despite the absence of such a condition in her agreement with the Imperator. She was pampered even – the meals far more exotic than any she had ever tasted or seen, from marinated lobster and cassowary eggs to pandoori dodo. This latter she refused to touch. It made her stomach queasy to think of putting a fork in a dodo.

  On the third morning a steel document case arrived, carried by a handsome captain of the House Guard. The gorgeous inlaid sapphires picking out a dragon on the front of the case betrayed it as a trinketologist design. There were three locks that opened to her thumbprint. How, in all the heavens, had they gotten her thumbprint?

  She sat on a corner sofa and laid out the case on a low table.

  Inside it was a letter thanking her for aiding the realm in a time of potent danger. Her name could not, regrettably, be inscribed on the scroll of honor at the mausoleum. The captain accompanying the letter would explain. At the bottom was the signature of Uster the Imperator.

  “Potent danger,” she muttered. Ellinca scanned the page again and tapped it. “My name is not written here either.”

  The captain shifted on his seat. “The Imperator wishes to convey his deep gratitude...but he cannot be seen to be associated with you.”

  “Ah.”

  “You have been placed on the realm’s extreme criminal list due to being found guilty of murdering Lieutenant Allin Brasker, a relative of Sir Hilas Frope. And, also, as a matter of routine you’ve been placed on the list of known mages.”

  “I’m the criminal? How can that be right? They rebelled against the Imperator. They were both traitors!”

  “Sir Hilas Frope has been exonerated by the Imperator. He has retired to his estates and now fully supports our Imperator. The charge brought against you was, I am allowed to inform you, a condition of this support.”

  The cogwheels of politics and sly diplomacy had run her over.

  “But... I didn’t even kill him.”

  “There is a witness who says the lieutenant cried out ‘You’ve killed me’ before he collapsed and died.”

  “What? I don’t remember. But wasn’t he an Immolator, which means he was going to die anyway?” His eyes, she could see them, though when had that been? “I do remember something – a sword. He was armed.”

  “Killing an Immolator, if he has surrendered, is still legally murder. The sword, well, yes, that would tend to negate their case – if you could prove it.”

  “Do – can Immolators surrender? I can’t really... Right. I see.” They didn’t really want to know the truth. Uster could have determined that easily. “But you’re not here to arrest me?” She stopped herself from swallowing, knowing it would make her look nervous.

  “No. You are safe here for the moment. You will have to leave the realm once all the...disturbances die down. Our Imperator also wishes to advise you that all the conditions of the agreement have been met, and I am to ask you to explain the cause of Princess Sasskia’s present condition and to clarify the reason why Doster has not been fully healed.”

  One thing she had learnt: it was better to think before she spoke. She recalled the promise that had been made on the rooftop. There were holes in that bargain a clever and ruthless person could use to his advantage.

  “I need proof that the war with the Grakkurd nation is truly over. Bring me that, and news of Dost and Dayna, and I will explain what has happened to Sasskia.”

  The captain pointed out that she was in effect blackmailing the Imperator. He sat there looking somewhat appalled and waited for her reply, but she refused to speak again. Eventually he stood, bowed to her, and left.

  She thought about escaping from the nearest window one night and climbing down to freedom – though the tower she was in was almost tall enough to be in the clouds on rainy days. Unfortunately she also had her own private squad of guards. There were at least two hermetically sealed locked doors to go through to leave her room, let alone the floor she was on, and the worst deterrent of all, the rest of the hospital sounded as though it were populated by the insane.

  Besides, she didn’t really want to escape. She was comfortable up here with the birds.

  On the fifth day she was allowed up on the roof where there really were birds, pigeons, sparrows and the like, and an old rusty telescope on a tripod. No lush gardens here, just bird dropping-spattered stone. Ellinca moved about the telescope to look down on the city, watching people go about their daily business. At night it was entrancing as the bright trink lights and the paler lamplights came on and tinted the main streets in yellow, white and orange.

  There was indeed no rioting and no screaming mobs and, clearly there was no war for she saw a procession of Grakk dignitaries go past on the tenth day of her stay. The guards pointed them out to her after escorting her to the telescope. Clearly the Imperator wanted her to see them. People were waving flags and cheering them as they rode past. Astonishing. People were so fickle. It occurred to her that the crowd might have been handpicked, or paid. Who could tell from up here? It was still nice compared to what might have been.

  To think that all she had been worried about on that day so long ago was if she were a mage and whether she were going mad – the day she’d first seen Frope.

  She was like a god up here on the roof, a lonely and distant god. Nothing she could do except watch. She felt listless, wrapped in muffling cloth, isolated. Things hadn’t quite turned out right. She was alive, and for sure not being dead was an absolute bonus. And the war had stopped.

  Sometimes Ellinca’s nerves betrayed her in a way that made her curious about what channeling ghosts through her veins might have done to her. Sometimes she caught herself tapping her fingers when she hadn’t told them to.

  On the fourteenth day they released her, giving her a long leather wallet, a salute from her squad of guards – who appeared relieved that she was going – and a short, private talk in an armored carriage parked outside the hospital with the same handsome captain.

  “Miss Ellinca.” At least he had begun politely. “The Imperator sends you his highest regards and his hopes that you have recovered fully...even though he could not be here himself to say this.”

  She nodded cautiously.

  “In the wallet you’ll find a largish sum of money – more than adequate for your needs, we believe, another letter from the Imperator – made of paper that will self-combust one minute after you read it, and a letter of Imperial Wayfare that will grant you passage on any vessel you choose to leave this realm upon.

  “I suggest you try a trading vessel on pier three with a leaping dolphin on the prow. Here...” He produced a metal cylinder and unscrewed it, removing a scroll that he unrolled for her. “Is the peace treaty between the Grakkurd Nation and the Burgla’le Realm. Signed two days ago.”

  She inspected it. The large red wax seal of the Imperator gave it an official look but it was the seal of one of the Grakk signatories that convinced her – Dayna Verbotska – with a green wax seal stamped with a frog.

  “You see that one?” He tapped the name and raised his eyebrows.

  “Yes, that’s Dayna.”

  “Good. The Imperator wants you to understand he does what he says he will. He says, and I quote here, ‘I love my son and I thank you for helping him as you have. You may not think that all that I do is righteous yet I believe that a ruler who knows the truth about almost everything is far preferable to a ruler who knows both truth and lies but cannot distinguish one from the other.’” He cleared his throat.

  Gently yet firmly he took the treaty from her, rolled it, and placed it back in the cylinder. “Now if you could please supply the details asked for...” He set a small tablet before her with a quill and ink. “You can write?”

  “Yes, of course I can.” She dipped the quill into the ink then, with only a few messy b
lotches, neatly wrote out an account of how she had healed Sasskia and of the consequences – that she was now mentally ten years younger. Whether she could be completely healed was a question she couldn’t answer. As for Dost, she hesitated, before simply saying that the power source she had used with Sasskia was gone and, because of this, she could not heal Dost further.

  Would Uster would be able to detect that this was not the whole truth? She handed the tablet back to the captain and he buttoned it into a jacket pocket.

  “So Dost is well?”

  “Yes...I last saw him yesterday.”

  “And, can I ask, how is it that the Imperator can be an auratrist and yet not be seen as a mage?”

  He took her question more calmly than she expected.

  “That would be because, since the treaty between our two nations was signed, the auratrists have been legally passed as practitioners of certified magience.”

  “How convenient.”

  He beamed at her.

  “So...um... Pier three, the ship with a dolphin?”

  “Yes. Good luck, miss. This carriage will take you as far as Seadog Street – the dock entrance.”

  “Will there be anyone, enforcers or their like, at the docks?”

  “No. We’ll keep them away from you for as long as possible. Several days. But I wouldn’t take that long if I were you.” He bowed and left the carriage.

  She sneaked a look inside the wallet. The letter of thanks, she read then gingerly put to one side. No use it melting the money. But the money... There really was a lot of it – two freshly minted rolls of gold festoons. She might go anywhere, across the world and back. She had to go somewhere. The ship on pier three, well, she would look at it and probably go to another and make it harder for the Imperator to track her.

  Before she alighted from the carriage Ellinca adjusted her new button-front pale green shirt and admired the swirling print on her emerald tights and shorts. Round her waist was a low-slung wide belt with a matching dagger and sword, and a pair of black-buckled pumps. Very fancy, almost too ostentatious, and she couldn’t even use a sword. Ellinca hoped it wouldn’t be out of place where she was going.

  The docks were the busiest place she had ever seen, barring the central markets in Carstelan. People – sailors, cargo-handlers, passengers – they were everywhere and going in every direction. Pier three was close to a section crammed with tall warehouses. Horses and quagga-drawn carts streamed past going to and from many of the ships.

  She ventured out onto the timber jetty. It was her first time this close to big ships, and the constant slap and wash of waves against the pilings below her feet made her nervous. Through gaps in the flooring she could see dark water. How could one trust something to stay solid when that sort of force was knocking away at it every day?

  Where was this dolphin?

  At the end of the jetty were only two ships. She marveled at the curve of the timber side towering above her, sliding her gaze along as she walked farther. And there it was at the bow, a leaping dolphin with a small trink light mounted above it. Chiseled and painted onto a board alongside it was the ship’s name. Veelus. Ellinca blinked a few times. This was the ship Dost had told her about.

  The gap between the timbers strakes of the ship’s hull and the edge of the pier was small. Crawling down there, on the hull, was a saucepan-sized thing wrought of yellow metal and with enough legs to be a crab. It scuttled a bit higher, settled, and began scratching barnacles away at the hull. Some sort of barnacle-cleaning trinketton?

  Warily she stepped back...and her leg bumped something. She spun ’round.

  “Gangar! Mogg!” The tuskdog had seemingly adopted Mogg, who uncurled and stretched his legs while still on Gangar’s back, as though the top of a tuskdog were a completely normal place to take a nap.

  She smiled broadly, patting the both of them at once. “You found me!”

  With a wary eye on the strange crab, she looked around but there was no one else. No Dost. To be expected. He was a member of the royal family and she was on the extreme criminal list. Ellinca sighed. She’d hoped he would be here to say goodbye.

  “Guess it must be my turn to have your company, hey? Hope you know what you’re doing. Seems like I’ll be gone a long time.” The gangway to the ship was nearby, inviting her footsteps. She peered up. There was a young man at the top, hands behind his back, looking out to sea. The wind ruffled his clothes and fair hair. Her heartbeat picked up. It could be him.

  When she stepped onto the ship he turned around. It was Dost.

  Sailors bustled about carrying ropes, and one ran past her, clambering up the mast and into the rigging.

  “Hello.” She wove between the low piles of crates and hessian sacks. She felt strangely shy.

  “Hello.” His voice was deep, without the usual bubbling rumble.

  It was the first time she had seen his face in the brightness of daylight without cloth wrap or hood obscuring it. Although there were five parallel scars scored across his lips and down his neck, and a coin-sized scar on his cheek, he looked startlingly human. She saw that he was watching her examine his face and blushed.

  “Sorry. I’m being rude.”

  “No. Don’t apologize. I am deeply grateful for what you did... I don’t know how to thank you.” He put a hand to his heart. “I hereby take back those nasty, unflattering things I said about you.”

  “What...unflattering things?” Ellinca shook her head. “I can’t remem – ”

  “That you were a flittery, self-absorbed young woman.” He shrugged. “Untrue.”

  She couldn’t help laughing at his rueful expression. “Perhaps they were right when you said them.”

  “No. No, I think you just needed time to decide what was important. Like me.”

  She looked at her feet for a second. “I wish I could have done more...perhaps someday...”

  “Uh-uh. Stop right there with that idea.” His eyes narrowed. “I know that it took...something from you to do this to me. Father as much as told me. So I thank you to the very ends of the earth and beyond, just to be sickly poetical, and there it ends.”

  “Hmmm.” Her blush returned. “Sasskia...you know that she...”

  Quickly he reached out and put a finger to her lips. “Careful with your words. That she’s lost her memory? Yes.”

  “Oh!” The unexpected touch of his skin on her stunned her. For a second the world seemed to twist. Her eyes met his.

  “Sorry.” Slowly he took his hand away.

  “Ah. Her memory? Um. More than that. She is actually younger, mentally, than she was. It was the only way. I’m sorry, but eventually, in ten years maybe...she will grow back into what she was.” She saw him think that through and understand.

  He leaned back on the ship’s rail. “Does my father know?”

  “He will soon. A captain takes my message to him today.”

  “Ah. So that’s it then.” He massaged his forehead. “I knew there was something like this. Well. If there’s a cure to be had he will find it for her. Ten years is a long time.” He rambled on. “He lost that all-seeing ability within a day, you know. Has to touch people now, like the Grakks do. Glad he didn’t have it when Sasskia and I were little or I’d never have gotten away with some of the stuff I did.” His eyes glazed and his voice trailed away to nothing.

  She leaned on the rail next to him, resting her forearms along it. The sea sloshed lazily against the hull below. Another one of the crab things crawled there.

  “What is that?”

  “Hmm? They call them mucks. Don’t ask me why. They’re hull cleaners. Captain has a deal with a local trinketologist regarding cargo rights.”

  It was curiously reassuring to watch the muck steadily doing its job despite the water washing over it. A seagull cruised in to a splashy landing a few yards away and sat bobbing about like a bath-time toy. Carried to her on the sea breeze was an exciting mix of scents and sounds – of salt and fish and foreign spices and perfumes and the creak
ing of timber and ropes and the shouts of sailors readying their ships for sailing.

  He straightened, reached into an inside pocket of his coat, and slid out some documents. “I have two things for you from the Grakkurd Nation.” He cleared his throat.

  “The first is an official dispatch signed by all the members of their council, as well as Prince Turak and Princess Cheshina, thanking you for your services to the nation. Of course that means the peace treaty. Secondly, and they said not to take this personally – ”

  “Oh? What is it?”

  “Um... The second is a dispatch pronouncing the death sentence on you for taking the jung qua and administering it to a foreigner. To be carried out if you enter Grakk territory. I was told that it’s a formality – unavoidable under their law.”

  “Oh. It could be worse, couldn’t it?”

  “Ye-es. We have been in more dire situations.”

  She laughed. Her perspective had changed so much in these past weeks. “Hmm. Dost, thank you for coming to see me off.” Though she found herself wracked by a curious jumble of sadness and excitement at the prospect of leaving, at least she knew she had a friend here. Perhaps one day she would be able to return.

  “Um.” His blue eyes locked on hers. “I have a favor to ask. Ellinca, I would like to...that is, if you don’t mind... I would like to go on this voyage also.”

  “What?” It was surprising and a bit disconcerting. For a few seconds she didn’t know what to say or even what it was that she felt. “Um.”

  A perplexed, if amused, frown appeared on his face. “Am I still that abhorrent?”

  “Oh. No! No! It’s not that. It’s, your father... Isn’t your place here?” As she said it she found she was wishing that he would say no.

  “He knows I’m still not completely human.” His eyes flicked about as he said that and he lowered his voice. “I’m bludvoik at heart, or so he tells me.”

  “But no one can tell.”

  “No?” He drew his belt knife from its sheath, pushed up his sleeve and quietly and efficiently slid the tip of the knife into the skin at the crook of his elbow. A swell of bright blood appeared and then, pushing up through the redness oozed a dot of bluish black that enlarged into a fat globule. Her heart sank a little as she saw this. Quickly he pulled the sleeve down to cover it. “Whenever I tear my skin that happens. If this became well known it would compromise his possession of the throne. To him, that is of the utmost importance. And so...my offer.” He waited quietly.