Dangerous Waters

by Juliet E. McKenna

‘Shit!’ Kusint clapped his hands over his ears so hard he nearly stunned himself with his own sword hilt.

  Corrain had already dropped his weapon, shoulders hunched and hands cupped to defend his own hearing. Crippled and wounded men were screaming. Solurans yelled furious questions. Those few Mandarkin still alive shouted what must be appeals for mercy.

  The wizard who’d just arrived bellowed at the mage who’d survived in the heart of the fight. A third cloaked figure appeared on the track leading from the clearing escorted by more men at arms. Her voice added a shriller note to the cacophony.

  ‘Where’s the Mandarkin wizard?’ Kusint looked wildly around.

  ‘He must have escaped them.’ If the Mandarkin mage had fled, that was of little concern to Corrain. Despite the noise making his head ring, despite his gorge rising at the stink of spilled blood and seared flesh, he smiled.

  He only had to convince one of these Soluran wizards to bring such lethal magic to Caladhria.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Trydek’s Hall, Hadrumal

  8th of Aft-Summer

  NOLYEN CLEARED HIS throat. ‘Do you suppose this is why Hadrumal’s Council prefers wizards not to wage warfare?’

  Tornauld sat, his face cupped in his hands, and stared into the scrying bowl deep in thought.

  ‘Earth magic crippled those men.’ Merenel looked across at Jilseth. Like Nolyen, both magewomen had sprung to their feet, as startled as the other two to see such magecrafted violence.

  Tornauld looked up, keen-eyed. ‘How?’

  Despite her revulsion, Jilseth was equally intrigued. ‘I don’t know,’ she was forced to admit, ‘but my guess is that second wizard broke the bones in their legs.’

  ‘Those swords were shattered with elemental air, which required impressive concentration by the lad in the midst of that mêlée.’ Tornauld’s heavy brows knitted as he contemplated the vision floating on the ensorcelled water. ‘But the earth mage couldn’t see what he wished to break.’

  ‘I don’t know how he did it.’ Jilseth disliked repeating herself. ‘I will give it some thought.’

  ‘I take it that woman works with water, if she roused the grasses to snare them?’ Merenel sought Nolyen’s confirmation as he resumed his seat. The Caladhrian water wizard nodded.

  ‘You noticed that air mage could barely summon more than a handful of fire?’ Merenel murmured. ‘I’d like to see what a mage with true fire affinity might do in such a situation.’

  ‘Who are these men who attacked them?’ As Nolyen laid his hand on the scrying bowl’s rim, the water shimmered and the emerald radiance strengthened.

  ‘If you please, master mage.’ Tornauld grinned, looking up. ‘The spell held true. Let’s not overlook that.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Jilseth allowed herself a moment of euphoria. This was a splendid new achievement for their nexus.

  ‘We must show Planir.’ Merenel said decisively.

  ‘How we worked the spell or what we’ve scryed through it?’ Nolyen frowned.

  ‘Let’s watch a little longer.’ Tornauld contemplated the aftermath of the carnage in the glade. ‘These are Soluran wizards, wouldn’t you say? Fighting among themselves?’

  Nolyen looked more troubled. ‘What do you suppose this man Corrain wants with them?’

  Merenel snapped her fingers and a perfect circle of scarlet flame appeared above her hand. Fire mages had no need of candles or mirrors for their bespeaking. ‘Archmage? Please join us as soon as possible. We have made some important discoveries.’

  Jilseth found her mouth unexpectedly dry. Planir would surely wonder why they hadn’t consulted him as they explored her new theory. In his role of Stone Master if not as Archmage.

  On the other side of those scales, now she had another wholly new spell to her name fit to be recorded in Hadrumal’s libraries. She looked at the scrying bowl. Two more spells, one could argue.

  ‘What is so important?’ The Archmage appeared at her side, as silently and unobtrusively as someone stepping through an open door.

  Nolyen and Tornauld immediately began talking, gesturing at the bowl, at the map of distant Solura.

  ‘We’ve devised a means of finding the man Corrain and then tying that spell into a scrying—’

  ‘These are Soluran mages. That greybeard works earth magic while the younger man has an air affinity—’

  ‘The woman seems born to water—’

  Planir looked at Jilseth. ‘Please explain,’ he invited.

  She couldn’t help clearing her throat. ‘I was thinking about pendulum magic, Archmage, after working with the Hearth Master’s nexus and trying to find Corrain by dowsing with a diamond. Though such efforts have been unsuccessful, that prompted me think about the lodestone magic which we devised to hunt Minelas. To follow him in particular,’ she amplified, ‘rather than just finding any magic being wrought, as the former spells could.’

  She paused, expecting Planir to comment. The Archmage simply looked at her, silently expectant.

  ‘Corrain wears that manacle around his wrist.’ Jilseth pointed at the bowl. ‘We found a way to search for him with a modified version of the diamond magic and using a lodestone pendulum focused on that specific piece of iron.’

  They would never have been able to do that if she hadn’t encountered the man back in Caladhria. As it was, it had taken her a sleepless night to recall the precise resonances of the manacle whose presence she’d barely registered with conscious thought. But her affinity with earth and stone had noted the metal’s properties, born of the ore that made it.

  Planir inclined his head. To Jilseth’s apprehensive eye, that merely indicated his understanding. She had yet to win his approval.

  ‘And this scrying?’ The Archmage looked at the bowl.

  ‘Nolyen said something interesting when we were discussing lodestones.’ Jilseth smiled at the water mage and hoped he realised that she sought to share credit rather than blame. ‘We were talking about the rare earths contained within rocks. Some respond to his innate affinity with water even when he’s working with stone magic just as others speak to Merenel’s sense for fire.’

  She caught Tornauld’s scowl. Did he think she would deny him his due? It was unfortunate that his innate magic had played no direct part in these new spells; Air and Earth were too fundamentally opposed. But they could not have worked the nexus without him. The Archmage would know that.

  ‘What did Nolyen say?’ Planir prompted.

  ‘He remarked on the oils to be found in black shales. We’d already been experimenting with ground oils and scrying,’ Jilseth explained, ‘to see if that offered any new prospects of scrying over such a great distance. Not with any success, I’m sorry to say. But then I recalled that red shales can have fragments of lodestone within them.’

  Which Planir knew full well. She hoped he didn’t think she was trying to school him. Jilseth blushed, talking quickly.

  ‘We found a shale with traces of both oil and lodestone. Once we had successfully used such a pendulum to find Corrain, we drew the oil out of the stone and into the water and managed to scry for him through that.’

  It sounded so simple in summary. Planir would surely appreciate the endless deliberation and trial and error it had taken the four of them to achieve this. When they had been putting the first shale pendulum into the water with Merenel’s magic warmly resonant within it, the thing had exploded, showering the room with searing splinters. Without Tornauld’s quick thinking and quicker magic sweeping up the fragments in a quenching curl of fog, one of them could have lost an eye.

  Planir smoothed his beard with lean fingers. ‘Ingenious.’ His tone fell far short of congratulation. ‘So what have you learned of Corrain’s purpose on his journey?’

  Jilseth exchanged a glance with the others. ‘Nothing as yet,’ she admitted.

  ‘Those are Soluran mages,’ Nolyen ventured.

  ‘Killing Mandarkin.’ Planir leaned over the bowl, his sharp features hawk-like. ‘Ever their fav
ourite use for magic.’

  Jilseth wondered at the faint contempt in his voice. ‘They seem to have spells which I don’t recall seeing in Hadrumal.’

  ‘How do you know the dead are Mandarkin?’ Tornauld demanded.

  ‘I’m the Archmage. I know a great many things which I seldom have reason to share.’ Planir looked up from the vision ‘I take it the Mandarkin wizard escaped?’

  ‘I confess that surprises me.’ Tornauld sat back, folding his arms. ‘After the Solurans’ proficiency in the fight.’

  ‘Did you assess his affinity?’ Planir looked round the table. ‘The Mandarkin mage’s?’

  ‘No. It never occurred to me.’ As Tornauld apologised, the others shook their heads, sharing his chagrin.

  Planir clicked his tongue, exasperated. ‘We know precious little of Mandarkin magic.’

  Jilseth could see the remote figures in the scrying spell were hurrying to and fro, gesticulating. What were they doing now?

  Planir ignored them. ‘Soluran magic can be impressive, especially in combat. They certainly use a far greater range of quadrate spells to blend the four elements than we commonly do. But their elder wizards, the ones who rule their different Orders of magecraft, have nothing to teach their students to compare with the breadth of Hadrumal’s knowledge.’

  He gestured curtly at the scrying. ‘They don’t enjoy the peace that enables our learning to grow and flower with new understanding. Their focus is always on retaliating against Mandarkin spite, on defending against fresh assaults. They can work powerful spells with individual elements but they have no quintessential magic worth the name. Even their most skilful mages have no real experience of working with others in a nexus.’

  He shook his head with regret. ‘Soluran magecraft never allows for the unfettered exploration of affinity that’s essential for the growth of a wizard’s elemental understanding. Worse, each Order jealously guards its own archive instead of sharing discoveries and recording conclusions as we have done in our island’s libraries for twenty generations and more. When a Soluran Order is lost, when a tower falls, too often all that hoarded knowledge is lost.’

  ‘By your leave, Archmage,’ Merenel observed, ‘I don’t imagine that’s of much concern to Corrain.’

  ‘It’s clear enough what he seeks,’ Tornauld agreed. ‘Since Hadrumal’s mages won’t help him, he’s gone in search of wizards for hire.’

  ‘His Forest-born friend must have told him of Solura’s mercenary mages.’ Planir was more resigned than concerned. ‘All the same, we had better have convincing proof to set before our own Council before we decide how to hobble his ambitions.’

  He swept a hand across the bowl and the green-tinted water pulsed with a fleeting turquoise hue.

  Tornauld exclaimed, astonished. ‘Clairaudience through a scrying, Archmage?’

  ‘Quite so.’ Planir smiled as faint sounds rose from the surface of the water. ‘Now, hush and let’s listen.’

  Jilseth watched the surface of the water shiver, casting the distant voices upwards.

  How many mages could combine air and water magic like this? If those two elements weren’t as antagonistic as air and earth, they didn’t share the sympathy enjoyed by fire and air or earth and water. For an earthborn wizard to work such a spell so effortlessly? Jilseth hadn’t the first notion how to go about it.

  She couldn’t imagine there was another mage in Hadrumal whose skills even approached the Archmage’s, never mind rivalled Planir’s proficiency. Not even amongst those worthy of consideration for the rank of master or mistress of the four elements.

  He wore his favourite faded breeches and a loosely laced shirt. It was too hot to wear a jerkin today. Jilseth had always thought he wanted the newly arrived mageborn and lowly apprentice wizards to find him approachable.

  Now she was seeing his preference for such humble attire in a new light. She suspected that the Archmage intended to have people underestimate him; most particularly the senior mageborn of Hadrumal as well as the princes and powers of the mainland, from the city states of Ensaimin to the Tormalin Imperial Court. How soon would they learn to regret that?

  When Jilseth had gone straight to Planir, to admit her folly in Kevil, to explain how her magic scared the truth out of Lord Tallat at the cost of his humiliation, the Archmage hadn’t chastised her.

  On the contrary, he had said, in her position he’d have very likely turned Lord Tallat into stone. Such a statue set outside his manor gates would warn every baron in Caladhria not to take Hadrumal’s name in vain.

  Jilseth didn’t think that Planir had been joking.

  Tornauld leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. ‘I can’t make any sense of this.’

  ‘They’re concerned with treating their own wounded and reporting back across the river to their Elder and to Lord Pastiss.’ Planir listened a little longer. ‘Corrain, or rather, his companion’s being told to shut up and wait till they’re done or to start walking if that doesn’t suit him.’

  ‘I suppose that’s too much to hope for,’ Merenel said ruefully.

  ‘Quite so,’ Planir cracked his knuckles. ‘Well, I don’t suppose the Soluran wizards will keep them waiting long. They’ll want to start hunting that Mandarkin mage. But we can make good use of even a brief delay. Nolyen, sustain the scrying and Tornauld, can you keep this clairaudience from failing?’

  ‘I believe so, Archmage.’ The burly mage braced himself for that challenge.

  ‘Listen for any agreement between Corrain and the Solurans. They’ll have to speak in some language which he can comprehend to do that.’ The Archmage smiled briefly. ‘Merenel, please convey my compliments to Hearth Master Kalion and ask if he will join us. Galen too, if he’s with him.’

  As Merenel went to stand outside the sitting room door, to bespeak Kalion through a fresh circle of flame, Planir contemplated the scrying bowl, the whispers rising like steam, incomprehensible.

  ‘Kalion can tell you what our counterparts make of Corrain’s request as they talk among themselves.’ He looked up, his expression intense. ‘Jilseth, teach this new dowsing spell to Galen and make sure that he can work it through a nexus with Ely, Canfor and Merenel, as well as the scrying that follows it.’

  ‘Shouldn’t I show you the spell first?’ Then there could be no misunderstanding about who exactly had perfected this magic. Jilseth didn’t trust Galen, or more likely Ely, not to try stealing some of their nexus’s hard-won acclaim.

  ‘No, I see what you’ve done well enough.’ Planir’s glance took in the four of them, the table, the bowl and the wizardry within it. ‘I need to tell Herion, Rafrid and Sannin what’s happening and I had better pay Troanna and Shannet a courtesy visit with the news.’ He grimaced before looking at Jilseth once again. ‘As soon as Galen grasps the working of this, you must go to Halferan.’

  ‘Archmage?’ She wasn’t protesting. She needed to understand what he wanted of her.

  ‘We can guess what Corrain’s seeking.’ He gestured at the scrying. ‘We need to know if he’s shared these ambitions with Lady Zurenne, with Lord Licanin or any of those other worthy nobles who came to solicit our help in the spring.’

  ‘They didn’t even know of the traps being laid for the corsairs.’ Jilseth recalled the barons’ bemusement in Kevil’s marketplace.

  ‘But they had taken Lord Tallat’s nods and winks to mean they could expect help from Hadrumal,’ Planir reminded her, ‘and his foolish lordship had been encouraged to such boasting by his captain’s hints. The barons will have gone straight home to demand explanations from their captains and sergeants-at-arms. We’ve no idea what Corrain actually promised, to stir the Caladhrian troopers to such boldness.’

  Planir shook his head, grim-faced. ‘If Corrain is acting alone, thrusting a pole through the spokes of his cartwheels will be a simple affair. If word is spreading among Caladhria’s barons that magical aid can be bought beyond the Great Forest, we’ll have a very different tangle to bring before the Council o
f Hadrumal.’

  Jilseth nodded slowly. ‘But I won’t be welcome in Halferan, any more than I was last time.’

  Planir’s sudden grin lightened the atmosphere of the whole room. ‘Oh, Lady Zurenne will be pouring you iced wine and offering honey cakes once you tell her where that thieving steward, Starrid, is hiding.’

  ‘Forgive me, Archmage.’ Shock hollowed Jilseth’s stomach. ‘We haven’t found him yet.’

  To be accurate, they hadn’t even been looking. Absorbed in the fascinations of quintessential magic, Jilseth hadn’t given the scoundrel a second thought since her return to Hadrumal.

  Planir waved her words away. ‘You met the man, didn’t you? You can scry for him from Halferan. He won’t have gone so far away that you’ll need the aid of a nexus; I’ll wager good gold on that.

  ‘Feel free to work your magic in Lady Zurenne’s presence, or Lord Licanin’s, come to that,’ he added dryly, ‘with as much garish magelight as a first year apprentice. Remind his lordship of the wizardry which he saw in Kevil. The time has come to curb this noble arrogance in Caladhria. We’ll start by reminding them they must still deal with Hadrumal’s Council, as they always have done, whatever bargain they might hope to broker with Solura’s wizards.’

  Jilseth swallowed her apprehension. ‘I can certainly scry for Starrid from Hadrumal.’ As long as some of his possessions were lying unnoticed in some corner. ‘It may take some time for Lady Zurenne’s troopers to reach him, once I know where he’s skulking,’ she pointed out. ‘Perhaps longer to recover Halferan’s coin, and Lady Zurenne will want the gold and silver safely back in her own strongroom before she reveals anything of Corrain’s plans.’

  ‘Bespeak me as soon as you find the rogue.’ There was an ominous glint in Planir’s eye. ‘I’ll deliver him to Halferan bound and gagged before any trooper’s laced his boots. You may hang him by the seat of his breeches from the gatehouse gable to persuade him to spill his secrets.’

  ‘What if he betrays Minelas for a wizard?’ Jilseth realised she had no idea whether or not the treacherous steward had known his new master’s true nature.