"Better than setting off a touchy Bashite with a feigned grudge," she replied.
Mantinou's stunning features furrowed into folds of puzzlement.
"You are strange, librarian who scribes for King," she decided.
"We don't have time for this," Prichard murmured, the angles of his face sharp in suppressed ire as he kept Mantinou in sight at the corner of his eye.
"Feel free to inform her of that," Em tossed back. "You have a sweeter tongue than I."
Mantinou scowled, a tart retort on her lips that Em silenced with a glare. She'd had far too little sleep and too many worries clamouring for her attention to deal with the wilful royal, even if she sympathised with Mantinou's confined circumstances and desire for expanding her horizons. She pierced the Princess with a look demanding answers.
"What did you hear?"
Mantinou drew herself straight, a haughty mien exuding from every part of her. Em sighed.
"Please, Princess, we don't have time to hedge. We have too much at stake."
"Your enemy who approaches," Mantinou agreed with a sage nod, arms crossed over her ample chest. "Closer than you want and no time to―" she hesitated, cursed in her native tongue. "Organise?" she tried. "Yes, organise. No time to organise good defence. I help."
They stared at her.
"Help what?" Prichard asked baffled, turning to face her fully.
"Help give time to draw in Nathan with disguise so amulet might work."
Em felt her jaw drop. She had argued the merits of magic with this woman only last night, barely able to speak on the subject in the face of Mantinou's abhorrence. To have the Princess now blithely refer to a plan involving magic ... unless she didn't understand that they spoke of magic? Before she could dwell on that possibility, Mantinou continued, her attention fully on Em.
"Enemy has army. Dalasham has soldiers, but not all here. King needs men to hold back enemy while you lure leader into trap. Is right?"
"Ye-es," Em stretched the word, not liking hearing their dilemma uttered so plainly, though it didn't change its veracity.
Mantinou nodded firmly, then tapped her chest.
"I have soldiers. They help King, keep Dalasham safe."
"What?" Prichard nearly choked on an indrawn breath.
"Uncle bring honour guard; many men," Mantinou stated. "They guard me. I tell them guard my betrothed. Marriage no good if land destroyed by evil. Now King Stefan no so desperate for aid from afar, can concentrate on tactics, give you time to make amulets." She paused, stared right into Em's eyes with a weight that took Em's breath away. "You say magic a skill, no corrupt on its own." Obviously she hadn't misunderstood their discussion. "Prove now."
A bark of laughter sprang from Destiny, startling Em. The tall wizard stood, gliding forward to join them. Mantinou's guards stirred, then stilled when the Princess raised her hand. Em wondered how much Dalsh they understood, if any. Destiny stared at the Princess, glanced casually down at Em, then shook her head.
"You have more tolerance than your uncle, little royal, I'll grant you that," Destiny said. "Though perhaps ignorance fuels your confidence."
Mantinou's eyes narrowed as she tried to gaze up at Destiny without making it obvious she had to crane her neck slightly to do so. She managed fairly well with a haughty glower of disdain.
"If ignorance, is through incomplete education," Mantinou spat. "Junior Assistant Librarian Emily suggests my country teaches intolerance to your magic to avoid truth. I wish learn her truth, decide whether is right or wishful thinking." She regarded Destiny, her frown turning contemplative. "You is wizard?"
Destiny held up a hand; an orb of pale blue fire appeared on her palm. "I am," she agreed with equanimity. The Princess' guards stepped in front of Mantinou, blades half-way from their sheaths, before Mantinou pulled them back with a bark of command. They settled, but with such an air of barely restrained fury that Em admired their mistress' control.
Mantinou looked not at Destiny as the wizard subdued her flame, but at Em. She switched to Bash.
"Does she purposefully seek to antagonise them?"
Em shrugged, feigning a nonchalance that she certainly didn't feel.
"I believe she hides her nerves by playing with yours, Highness," she replied, likewise using the Bash language. The merest hint of a grunt of agreement from Prichard confirmed that the spy knew both tongues as well, which didn't surprise Em in the least.
"She plays a dangerous game then," Mantinou said, speculation lighting her eyes.
"Who can say with a wizard?" Em said by way of agreement.
Mantinou met Destiny's eyes.
"You wizard Uncle hates," the Princess resumed in Dalsh. "Made him grovelling puppy."
Destiny caught her lower lip between her teeth, apparently trying to bite back a surprised laugh, not unlike the one Darien almost managed to catch.
"How this not evil?" Mantinou demanded, doing a fine job of ignoring the suppressed mirth and ending thoughts of levity with her frigid tone.
Destiny inclined her head in acknowledgement of the accusation.
"It didn't kill him," she said softly. Mantinou gasped in surprise. Then Destiny sighed in resignation, seeming to grow smaller as she sagged. "But I won't pretend the scope of that spell had many other virtues. Prince Whillim wanted a tool to subdue his brother; I fashioned one for him. He could have as easily requested a spell to safeguard his kingdom. Magic lacks a mind of its own, much as a sword or shield. One might use either to impale a foe or protect a friend. The brother of that foe sees the sword as evil, the sister of the friend names the shield good, the wielder of either implement earning the same sentiment. So too with magic. Your Uncle, along with most of Dalasham affected by my spell, would likely term that magic evil, though Whillim did not. The amulets Emily hopes I can create will serve to protect her land. That makes the magic good in her eyes. Not so to Nathan, who would see the loss of his powers as a truly vile prospect.
"To name magic as good or evil, corrupt or pure, gravely oversimplifies matters. As Emily states, magic is a skill, a tool, a medium in which I have become quite proficient. You must look to the practitioner, not the tool, to determine whether you deal with concepts so mundane as good or evil."
"You admit you use skill against Dalasham," Mantinou said. "Now you help. I no understand."
"Happily, Princess, I don't have to appease you," Destiny replied. "Nor convince you of my intentions. I have found a strange acceptance here, and I don't intend to lose it, so I will help keep these people safe to the best of my abilities."
Em blinked in wonder at Destiny's straightforward pronouncement. Mantinou regarded the other woman for a moment in silence. She raised a delicate eyebrow.
"Do you have answer for Librarian Emily?" she finally asked. "Can you make such magic as she need?"
"Given time and the proper tools, I believe I can," said Destiny.
Mantinou nodded, her arms dropping to her sides.
"Then I help give you time, wizard. I will make Uncle listen to my plea, and Bash will join King Stefan to keep Nathan's army occupied." Her dark eyes grew flinty. "Do not waste lives of my people."
Mantinou turned with a nod to her guards, waited for her servant to open the door, then with a quick scan of the hall, slipped out of the room. Bartok firmly shut the door behind her.
"Well," Prichard opined. "I almost regret not hearing that conversation." Em glanced at him, met his regard. "A formidable woman," he added. Em sputtered out a laugh.
"No wonder they wanted her wed quickly and out of their hair," Destiny agreed, sharing a smile with Em. "Far too open-minded and wilful for the fools in Bash to control. Your King will have his hands full."
"He's had practice lately," Prichard said, his expression growing sober, his gaze heavy as it held Em. "All to the best, affording another woman her due. Though it might take time before others in the kingdom recognise the wisdom of judging people by their strengths and merits, and not their gender."
He clapped his han
ds and rubbed them together in enthusiasm as he shifted to face Destiny.
"So, Lady Destiny, what do you require to help Emily's plan come to fruition?"
"Access to my former Sanctum and the Focus within, to start," she said. "And the assistance of those who can either work or see magic."
"Then let's be about that," acceded the master spy, his tone equal parts grave and excited, even as Em realised with a start that Destiny had named her and Norbert as her assistants. She would have liked to protest, claim she had done her part in effecting a means that might keep Dalasham safe from Nathan's clutches, and simply retreat to hide in the library instead and find some much needed rest. But then Destiny looked at her with a steady trust which failed to disguise the panic and fear underlying her outer confidence. Despite her words to the Princess, it seemed Destiny had reservations about their chances. If having Em nearby when the wizard reconfigured the Destiny Seat eased the woman's mind, Em wouldn't deny her the solace, even if it ate at her own peace of mind.
***
Destiny had designed her Focus with a twist of aversion, something that wouldn't invite people to linger in the room even if they could overcome the cold menace emanating from the quartz. What she faced now bore little resemblance to the original Focus, save still having the form of a crystalline chair. Indeed, the Destiny Seat almost seemed to pulse in warm welcome when Emily walked into Destiny's former Sanctum behind the wizard. One would think the blackened crystal should effuse more enmity than the white had, yet instead, it wrapped the chamber in something more akin to a soothing campfire on a summer's night than a blast of winter storm to freeze the day. She couldn't fathom how anyone would accomplish such a transformation, let alone how Emily had done so with mere memory.
"Has it looked thus since ...?" Destiny didn't finish the thought, but Emily understood the implication. Since the night they had defeated Destiny and ended Whillim's ambitions.
"I don't know," Emily replied, barely above a whisper. "I couldn't bring myself to investigate until last night." She hesitated, chewing lightly on her lip. She glanced at Destiny, weighing her words. "I had imagined it might have attuned itself to me in some way, but surely 'tisn't possible."
"Emily, I have no idea how you could transform a Great Magic like this, but everyone agrees that it morphed from white to black under your influence. Might you have changed it in more than just appearance? I simply don't know." A frown pulled Destiny's brow low. "Attuned how?" she wondered, thinking about the word Emily had so deliberately used.
Emily held her breath long enough that when she finally released it, Destiny heard it as a gusty sigh. The librarian moved behind the Seat, glanced at all those who had followed them to the Sanctum, then reached a hand to the crown. Destiny had done the like so many times while employing the Focus for Whillim's benefit that she imagined she felt the cold stone beneath her own fingers.
She had seen the Destiny Seat cycle through a series of colours before―gold to rose to blinding white―but she had never encountered such a pulse of warmth as that which Emily invoked now with her touch, nor heard a contented hum resonate from the depths of the stone. Glancing up, Destiny found Emily's pale grey eyes seeking her own, a silent plea to take away this strange power that neither librarian nor wizard could explain. Destiny shook her head slightly.
"I may have created this Focus, imbued it with power and purpose, but I believe you have taken possession of it. Or perhaps it of you." Emily's eyes widened further in panic. Destiny didn't soften her tone. She might offer reassurance, but not comfort. "I don't believe it will harm you, and it has obviously inspired new insights and possibilities in your mind. I wonder, will it allow us to modify it further?"
"Allow us?" Prichard sounded apprehensive. "You think it has a mind of its own?"
Destiny turned to find Norbert, the slender man standing just a little apart from the rest. The Administrator knew more than he let on, and if anyone had knowledge of a talisman similarly altered in the past―whether from first hand experience or written in the annals of wizardry―surely Norbert had encountered the tale. He met her regard, a small shrug his only answer.
"I think it listens to Emily, in its way," Destiny said. "Perhaps in sympathy, perhaps as a strange form of sentience." She sighed, pressing her fingertips to her closed eyelids. "Or maybe we're all just imagining what we wish in our desperation and it just recognises hers as the power that altered it." She pulled her hand away from her face, let it fall to her side, then opened her eyes to stare at Emily. "Do you have a thought on which facets we'd use for amulets?"
"I know nothing of fashioning focuses," Emily said. Her gaze dropped to the Seat and Destiny saw her pale. "But perhaps these two areas." She indicated the protrusions to either side of the crown with a shaking hand. Destiny understood why when the Seat pulsated with flashes of golden brown before resuming its odd welcoming black. She could only stare. What had Emily wrought when she broke Destiny's spell?
"Not imagination, then," Darien murmured, stepping closer to better examine a device Destiny no longer understood. He crouched, the blue-green of his eyes catching the sunlight streaming through the windows and animating the eagerness to solve a mystery that shone upon his face. "Does it react to everyone, do you suppose, or only those who had a part in its creation?"
"Ask it a question," Prichard reasoned. "See if it responds to you."
Emily had turned a sickly shade as she took a not altogether steady step away from the Focus. Destiny sympathised, feeling rather faint herself.
"Once our good wizards fashion amulets from your surface, will you allow others to utilise them?" Darien wanted to know. The Destiny Seat gave no indication of a response, remaining a steady black. Emily put a hand to her stomach and swallowed hard. Darien glanced up at her, concern carving gentle lines around his eyes.
"May I assume you at least acquiesce to our proposition to modify both your form and function?" Destiny asked. She hadn't expected the Focus to react to her now that it had somehow identified with Emily, yet it emitted a single pulse of crystalline light. Destiny blinked, her gaze rising to meet Emily's.
"Whatever change you authored," she mused to the little librarian, "it seems we now share responsibility for its future."
"And perhaps you two alone," Norbert said. "Unless the Destiny Seat cares to name another as equal caretaker?"
No change, although Destiny thought she might have heard the slightest sound whisper from the Focus, as of a sigh of regret. Emily stepped back to the Destiny Seat, her eyes contemplative as she regarded the chair. Darien rose from his crouch and moved to her side, studying her face.
"I know that look," said the Chief Librarian. "What have you figured out?"
"You know," Emily said slowly, her hand again reaching for the crown of the chair, "I didn't work the Focus alone that night." She met Destiny's eyes. "Faulk helped me trigger it."
The Destiny Seat flashed amber and hummed a brief tune of sadness as though in agreement. Emily's jaw dropped, but no more than everyone else's. Destiny found her equilibrium first.
"He had the ability to fight magic," she stated. Out of the corner of her eye, Destiny watched Norbert nod in sudden understanding.
"Emily's memory added to Faulk's Lesser Magic of resistance combined to affect your Great Magic," the wiry man deduced.
"Combining forces, much as Constance and Alfred did, though on a far lesser scale," Darien added with a hint of awe.
"Lesser scale?" Prichard scoffed. "Two untrained people acting on instinct and desperation effected a profound change that saved a kingdom from a power they didn't understand. Surely that impresses as much as two skilled wizards creating a Dual Great Magic against a foe they well understood."
"Constance and Alfred created something entirely new," Emily objected. "What Faulk and I did ... well, we just changed what already existed."
"With no guidance or knowledge," Prichard said. "And now we're asking you to do so again, only this time, with the strength
and experience of two wizards willing to assist."
Destiny almost snorted her amusement at Prichard thrusting Emily into a position of leadership once again, but the echo of a loud crack from beneath Emily's strained hands startled them all. Emily stared at her hands, one to either side of the crown of the Destiny Seat. Then she slowly turned them over, revealing two equal-sized shards of black quartz resting in each palm. She blanched.
"Two wizards and a Focus with a mind of its own," Ambrose spoke from his spot by the door. Emily swayed a bit as she looked up at the grim smile he offered, then firmed her grip on her newest burden, seeming to take refuge in the strength of her guard. She turned her attention to Destiny.
"Now what?"
"Now we forge those into talismans to seal my brother's and Tyrandel's magic behind a veil of forgetfulness," Destiny replied. "And we do so before the sun sets tomorrow."
She hoped no one heard her reservations at her ability to achieve that.
Chapter 23
When Jo had come riding hard into Riverbend the previous evening, his horse lathered and the man himself grey and exhausted, green eyes haunted, Stefan had braced himself for the worst. It still hadn't prepared him to learn the full and gruesome details of his brother's death, nor of the assassin's, dead in his failed attempt to eliminate Nathan too.
Confirmation of Nathan's seeming immunity to most physical attacks didn't please the King either, nor the knowledge of the speed and efficacy of Wizard Tyrandel's defence of his companion in any attack that managed to penetrate deep into their protections. It left Stefan far too reliant on forces few in Dalasham understood, despite the numbers Stefan and, surprisingly, Princess Mantinou, had assembled to stand against the soldiers Nathan had brought across the border.
Stefan recalled that singular encounter with his future bride. He had stood in the map room with those of his nobles able to muster a collection of men-at-arms quickly enough to defend Dalasmar in the limited time they had available. They examined the lay of the land spread across that map to determine the best place to meet Nathan in the field. Though Stefan hadn't had the opportunity to study Darien's research into Henri's Rebellion at any great length, he had learned the merits of that final hitherto unknown battle from the Fields of Erinnerung. It seemed somehow fitting that, based on the trajectory of Nathan's course when Jo had escaped, an enemy wizard would cross those Fields once again. Stefan's war council agreed that Erinnerung had the greatest potential for defence.
The Forgotten Magic Page 25
