The Magic Mines of Asharim

by Pauline M. Ross

“I do not believe he would harm me. He is in love with me, and he is determined to accompany me to Hurk Hranda to see me married.”

  “Married—?” The Protector’s face was creased with bewilderment, as he looked from me to the Keeper and back.

  She was unsurprised. “She is to marry one of the princes, but never mind that. Now tell me—”

  “Wait.” Zak had listened in silence, his face impassive, but now he was as puzzled as the Protector. “How do you know that? How can you possibly know that?”

  “Yes, I think you had better explain that,” Zak’s father said quietly.

  The Keeper licked her lips. “Well. I have to know what is happening. That is my function.” She shrugged, but there was embarrassment in her mind. “I can see things—”

  “Only when you have eyes in place,” the Protector said sharply. “Only when one of us is there, or one of the Children. You see through the eyes of the Spirit. So whose—?”

  Zak boiled to his feet, and the anger that shot through him almost knocked me off my stool. The change in him was shocking. He was so controlled and self-contained, his emotions never escaped him. Yet now he was aflame with rage. Thank the One I could shut it out instantly.

  “It’s me, isn’t it?” he hissed. “You can see through my eyes. Demons, Mother, how long have you been spying on me?”

  “Now, Zakkarvyn, it is not at all like that. But I have been able to ever since you were born. With the others – the Children of the Spirit – it works both ways. They can connect to me, exactly as I connect to them. They have the Spirit in them from both parents. But with you – you have the Spirit from me, but not from your father. Do sit down, Zakkarvyn. You must not be so – growly about this. It has been extremely useful… When you were a baby, I could keep an eye on you, you know. And when you were in the Program—”

  Zak exhaled sharply. I checked his mind, but he had already brought his anger under some control. It was astonishing how disciplined he was. He took two paces away from the table, just two. Then he took the two steps back, and folded himself down to his stool again. “You see everything I do.” He said it flatly, without expression, but his eyes glittered, the very last sign of his anger.

  His mother shook her head. “No, no, no. Not at all. I see what you see, hear what you hear, no more than that. And only very occasionally.”

  “Do you know what I think? Or feel?”

  “Oh, no, nothing of that nature. The Spirit makes you… a conduit, no more than that. And private moments…” She had the grace to blush. “I would never… Only when you talk to interesting people, you understand.”

  Zak’s face was impassive again, and although his mind still churned, he was more settled. He said nothing, his eyes thoughtful.

  “You should show him,” his father said. “Both of them, in fact. They ought to know how it works.”

  That was a curious thing to say. The Keeper’s powers were much talked of, and in the days of the Empire, the Protectors and Children were sent to subject cities to be her eyes and ears, that much was known. But the way the process worked was mysterious, and Zak and I had already been told more of it than anyone I knew. Yet now we were to have even more revealed to us. ‘They ought to know how it works.’ What under the sun did that mean?

  “Very well. Come, kneel before me,” she said to Zak, arms outstretched.

  He hesitated, and I couldn’t blame him for being suspicious.

  I touched his arm. “Shall I try it first? If you will, Revered One?”

  She nodded, and I knelt before her. She placed a hand on either side of my head. “Now close your eyes.”

  I did so, and at first nothing happened. Then a tingle ran through my head, and I could see again. I was looking at myself! There I was, kneeling in front of her, but I was watching from one side. Through the Protector’s eyes. I gasped, and would have jerked away, but she grasped me firmly. “No, not yet.”

  “This is not terribly interesting. Perhaps the Fifth?” As the Protector spoke, his voice rumbled through me. I was giddy with confusion, seeing through his eyes, yet knowing myself to be elsewhere.

  “No, I have a better one.”

  The vision popped out of existence, and almost immediately I was somewhere else, somewhere very different. In front of me, a wide harbour with many boats tied up, bobbing on the shifting water. A breeze fanned my face, a salty tang tickling my nostrils. To my left, I could see the twin light towers that guarded the harbour. I was at the Port, some fifty marks from Mesanthia.

  In front of me, two men in the loose clothes of sailors, one dark enough to be Akk’ashara, the other light-skinned with pale, almost white, hair. Beside them, a high-ranking Akk’ashara, formally dressed. The pale-haired man was talking rapidly in an eastern language, one I didn’t know, while the other sailor translated.

  I wondered whose eyes I was seeing through. The breeze stirred the ends of my host’s scarves. The wearer was shorter than any of the men, and I caught a hint of floral perfume, so I guessed it was one of the Daughters of the Spirit. She said nothing, however, merely observing the conversation.

  Despite the strangeness of it, I was fascinated. This was how the Empire had been managed in its days of glory. The Empress never left her tower, but still she knew everything of importance that went on. She was an unobserved participant in every important meeting or ceremony or event in every quarter of her domain. She could watch a trial, to ensure justice. She could note the discipline of her troops. If her subjects rose in rebellion, she would be in the midst of it, to judge the strength of feeling. Even in our reduced circumstances, such far-seeing gave the Keeper enormous power.

  The harbour vanished like a soap bubble. The Keeper removed her hands from my head, and I swayed, dizzy at the abrupt change. Then I laughed. “That was… interesting!”

  The Keeper laughed, too, her face alight with good-humour, once again a dowdy, unthreatening little creature. A strange woman.

  ~~~~~

  Zak and I stayed with the Keeper all afternoon, moving to different parts of the garden for the dusk ceremony and then the evening feast, attended by another Protector, two of the Children of the Spirit, and their families. I’d never thought of the Children marrying and having children of their own, but so it was. Without the crystal box at the Keeper’s throat, the gathering could have been any high-ranking Mesanthian family enjoying the cool evening air.

  When the last bells sounded, the Protectors and Children drifted away to their own apartments, and the Keeper ushered Zak and me into one of her sitting rooms, closing the screens to keep out the night insects. Zak’s father was there, too. He was rarely far from the Keeper’s side.

  As we sipped rich desert-grown stennish, the matriarch stepped back into her role as ruler. “Now, child, perhaps you had better tell us all about your plans to bring the river back to Mesanthia. And I must tell you, I do not see how it will help you to marry one of those Hrandish barbarians. They are evil men, as I am sure you are aware. I do not like you giving yourself into their hands.”

  “Marrying the prince gives me the perfect opportunity to get to the upper lake.”

  “But how?” That was Zak’s father. “You can hardly just walk up the mountain, you know, and they will never allow you access through the tunnel. And even if you manage to get there, what can you possibly do?”

  “Allandra is a thrower,” Zak put in. “She has flickers.”

  “Can flickers divert a river?”

  “Flickers can do whatever they are trained to do,” I said. “The only limit is the imagination of the thrower. So yes, flickers can divert a river.”

  “Can flickers get you to the upper lake?”

  I smiled. “No, but the prince can, and flickers can ensure his cooperation.”

  The two men nodded, but the Keeper still looked disapproving. “Hmm. It is a wild plan, but perhaps it may succeed because of that. The Hrandish will not be expecting it, that much is certain. A full assault by armed might – that has been tr
ied, and has failed. But sneaking up to the lake? It just might work. However, I do not like it very much. You must be very, very careful. You will not be locked away in the zarn adrish?”

  “Not immediately. There are a couple of stages before that, and for the first stage, at least, until all the papers are signed, I will be free to come and go as I please.” I didn’t tell her that locks were no hindrance, either. Flickers were wonderful little creatures, so willing, so capable. The possibilities were endless.

  The Keeper grunted. “The Hrandish take little notice of paperwork, as I recall. How long do you think it will take you to achieve your objective?”

  Excellent question. “Hard to say. Before the winter, I hope, but I know it must be done before the next Choosing.”

  “That’s why you were so keen to speed up the training process at Brinmar?” Zak asked. “So you could do this before the next Keeper is chosen?”

  “Before everything changes, yes.”

  “You have it all worked out, it appears,” the Keeper said. “You speak the language well, and you lived there for a while, so you know their ways. But what do you require of me?”

  Finally, we were getting to the point. “The army, Revered One. I require the Imperial Army.”

  ~~~~~

  Zak and I walked side by side through the night-darkened corridors to our adjacent rooms. Neither servants nor the Protector escorted us. He was family, and I, it seemed, qualified as a trusted ally.

  It felt very intimate to be alone with him in comfortable silence, like a husband and wife of long-standing. I derived so much pleasure from watching him covertly. He glided along, as silent and lithe as a cat. The low lamps cast shadows across his body and hid the muscles that so mesmerised me, but that just made him more attractive, not less.

  Demons, how I wanted him! I would have given so much just to touch him, to stroke the smooth skin of his arms, to press my lips softly against his, to rouse the desire that bubbled just below the surface of his mind.

  But I was still playing the self-control game, still hoping to win his admiration by holding back. So when I reached my chamber door, I let him move past me to his own door before I spoke.

  “Do you want to talk for a while?” I asked, trying for a casual tone. “We have a few details to sort out.”

  A hesitation. “Such as?”

  “Your… people. Their role in all this.” I shrank from the word ‘rebels’, but he would understand what I meant. “Nothing else, I assure you. Just a glass of wine and a chat.”

  He laughed then, his teeth a flash of white in the gloom, and I caught the leap of pleasure in his mind. He followed me obediently into the room. The servants waited, bowing, but I dismissed them with a click of the fingers. I poured him wine from the side-table and let him choose a seat before sitting a demure distance away.

  “I wondered when you were going to explain my part in your little adventure.”

  Again, the surge of excitement in him. Every time we talked of what I planned to do, he grew excited. I’d noticed it in the Keeper, too, but in her I guessed it was the thought of the possible outcome. If I could make the river run through Mesanthia again, we would be able to throw off the Tre’annatha yoke and restore the Empire. The Keeper would be the Empress, as she should rightfully be, at least until the next Keeper was chosen.

  He leaned forward eagerly, wine glass forgotten in his hand. “What do you need of me? I am entirely at your disposal, you know that.”

  Such a short time he was there. Half an hour, that was all I allowed myself. I spent the entire time frozen, not daring to move, keeping my voice low and calm, when in truth I had trouble remembering to breathe. He, on the other hand, was aflame with enthusiasm, his eyes glittering, a smile perpetually on his lips. His mind bubbled with excitement. I sent him away before he had time to tire of my company.

  The time will come, I told myself, when I will not need to chase him out. The time will come when he will beg me to let him stay.

  I went to bed with my head full of him. I didn’t think about Xando at all.

  39: Meetings

  The next morning, before I was even dressed, a senior servant arrived in my room with a note. My chair was surrounded by servants attending to my toilet, my hands firmly held.

  “Read it to me,” I commanded.

  With a bow, she unfolded the note, reciting with a noticeable Caxangur accent. “To the Gracious and Beneficent Lady Flethyssanya of the Most Noble Line of Dre’allussina, Highest of the Empire, greetings from your respectful uncle, the Gracious and Beneficent Lord Jasshtorgarryn. I attend upon your convenience this morning—”

  “He is here? Now?”

  She bowed again. “He is, Gracious Lady. In the blue receiving room.”

  I clucked in annoyance. Garryn was my mother’s brother, but my father had never got along with him. Some of my mother’s family I remembered with fondness, but Garryn had never been anything but an irritant. A pompous and boring man, full of his own self-importance. He held some high administrative post, I recalled.

  Well, he could wait. If he couldn’t follow protocol and make an appointment like everybody else, he must be prepared to find me unavailable.

  “Tell him I will be down in one hour. If I can.”

  I settled down again to my pampering. Ah, the pleasures of civilisation! I had woken to fresh fruit, warmed by the morning sun, then taken a scented bath. Now I had a servant attending to each hand, two more working on my feet, and another pair dressing my hair. In the bedroom, several more were busy laying out an array of clothing in the latest styles for me to choose from.

  They were all Dresshtian, of course, with pasty skin and hair in an array of nondescript browns. But the girl bent over my right hand was different. She had the same pale, almost white, hair that I’d seen yesterday on the sailor from the east.

  “You were not born here, I think,” I said to her.

  “No, Gracious Lady.” She looked fleetingly at me, then her eyes darted away and she lowered her head.

  “Where are you from?” She looked up at me, startled, but said nothing. “Let me guess, then. Shiamon? Cashallior? Shashallia? Further east? Hmm… One of the island races, perhaps. Thrurghian?” That won me a half smile. “You’re a long way from home. How did you find your way here?”

  She flushed, and bent over my hand again, buffing my nails with renewed vigour. As she shifted position, I caught a glimpse of her ankle and the tattoo that marked her bond. Red. An involuntary bond, usually a punishment. Probably her own people had sold her for some transgression. Poor girl.

  “Well, whatever happened, you are better off here.” Her head came up sharply, and she stared at me. I checked her mind and caught puzzlement in her. “Of course you are! Here you live in comfort, with plenty to eat, good clothes, a roof over your head. You have been taught to read and write, to count, some useful skills. In time, you will be free of your bond, free to make your own way in the world. What more could you hope for, a village girl like you? Better than grubbing in the dirt, or catching fish all your life, with a trail of children straggling at your heels.”

  Her eyes flashed. “At least there I would be with my own family. At least my life would be mine.” She had almost no accent, so she must have been brought to Mesanthia as a child. Surprising, then, that she even remembered her family.

  The others sat frozen, wide eyes fixed on mine, their minds filled with anxiety. They knew what she risked, this Thrurghian girl. I could have her tossed into the pits for her insolence, if I wished. She alone felt no fear, glaring at me defiantly.

  But something in me admired her dignity. It took courage to speak out to someone of my rank. She was a mouse squeaking at a dragon, or so I would have thought only a year or so ago. Now I saw only a girl of much my own age speaking her mind with courage and sincerity. Now I was less sure of my own place in the world, or the superiority of Mesanthia.

  But I had no time to ponder philosophy today. “Will this take much longe
r? For I have a visitor awaiting me.”

  As one, they turned back to their tasks.

  ~~~~~

  My uncle had grown somewhat since our last meeting. His face was now as round and shining as the moon, and his stomach strained the fastenings of his coat. He wore it in a long style that made him look like a shopkeeper, with brightly coloured scarves on his head and a matching sash draped across the coat, like a soldier. More and more high-ranking officials now eschewed the traditional silk wrappings, but this was a particularly bizarre combination.

  I scattered a flock of pale-faced servants as I walked across the blue receiving room. The Third Protector was there as host, but sprawled in a window seat, a subtle insult to his guest. My uncle had taken one of the carved and gold-painted guest thrones, filling it to overflowing. That was a formal choice for a family visit.

  I decided to be formal too. “Gracious Lord.” I made my bow slightly lower than necessary.

  “Flethyssanya,” my uncle said, not rising. “If you are Flethyssanya, that is.”

  Well. That was straight to the point. His face was openly hostile, but inside… was that fear? How interesting.

  “The Keeper has expressed no doubt of my identity.”

  “I daresay she has her reasons for that. You will permit me to examine your ear tattoos?”

  “Of course.” But I made no move towards him, and with a sigh he heaved himself out of his chair and came to inspect me.

  “Hmph. That seems to be in order.” He retreated to his chair again, pulling a strip of lace from his sleeve to mop his brow. Gems glittered on his pudgy fingers. He was not fat, precisely, but his clothes made him look like an overstuffed cushion. He would have been so much more comfortable in the traditional silks.

  He glared at me. “Will you want to live at the house? The Lesser is quite full, but you could be squeezed into a corner, I suppose.”

  I hadn’t considered that. In theory, my rank now entitled me to accommodation at the Greater Allussina House, but I had been officially declared dead. There would be a great deal of paperwork to restore me to my rights. Besides, it hardly mattered now.