There were several chapters I found more interesting, about thought mages and how they worked. They could use the standard spells, recited instead of written, or they could prepare short forms combined with touch: by saying ‘Heal’ while holding the injured part, for instance. Most of them could do those. But sometimes they could simply think a spell, and this was a fascinating concept to me. One chapter was simply various thought mages describing, as best they could, how they executed such spells, and each one had a different process, and was limited to a certain range of magic. I’d never been aware of Cal using such techniques but one of the other Ardamurkan mages had the knack of lighting or dousing the lamps and candles by thought alone. It was quite impressive, although of limited application, I suppose.
I arranged to meet Cal the following morning by one of the Keep gates. He’d followed my instructions to dress drably, so as not to attract attention, but his eyes sparkled with excitement. “This is so much fun,” he whispered, as I led him quickly through the streets to the vegetable market. Hidden from view by the crates, I showed him the marks on the outer wall of the Imperial City. I was disappointed to discover that he couldn’t see them. Only when he held his stone vessel could he just about make them out.
I let him open the door, relieved that his vessel gave him enough power for that, and we stepped through. The door shushed behind us and closed with an almost inaudible snap. He giggled, nerves and excitement mingled.
I took his hand. “Come on.”
As we walked up the hill, I became aware of a bird approaching. I’d expected it, but even so it was a little frightening.
“Don’t panic,” I said, taking a firmer grip on his hand, “and don’t try to run, but you’re about to be inspected.”
He stood still, but when he saw the bird itself spiralling down towards us he went very pale.
“It’s all right. It just wants to be sure we’re magic users. It won’t hurt us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hmm. Fairly sure.” Sometimes I wished I could lie as glibly as my youngest brother Deckas did. He could be standing with the shards of a broken cup in his hand, or the stolen jam around his mouth, and deny it soundly, his eyes wide with offended innocence. But something inside me insisted on honesty.
Cal shook with terror beside me, but to his credit he trusted me enough not to try to escape. I held his hand in both mine while the bird circled lazily around. I was convinced it stayed longer than with Drei and me, but eventually it puffed out of existence. I let go of Cal’s hands, and sighed with relief.
Cal rested both hands on his knees for a moment, head down, drained and still shaking. Then, with a wobbly smile, he looked up at me. “I guess I passed the test, then.”
“It recognises you as a magic user.” I spoke with more confidence than I felt, because after all, the bird was a magical creation and who could tell what its true purpose was?
“Really?”
“The whole city is for us – mages.” He looked disbelieving, so I explained to him, as I had to Drei, that only magic-users could see the marks and therefore open the doors. He nodded, brow furrowed in thought, but asked no more about it.
We couldn’t go to the library because the scholars would be there, so I led him first to the house with food – my house, as I’d come to think of it. The table was empty, naturally, but we wandered all over, and found another, smaller room with bread set out, together with pots of honey, rounds of cheese, and a basket of apples. Cal set to with gusto. He was as thin as a post but always hungry, so he was quite happy to have a second morning board. There was a pot steeping on a burner, but when I poured a little, it was a nasty dark brown liquid, bitter to the taste.
Then we went to the scribes’ tower. He was fascinated by it, recognising the rooms without any explanation from me. He was particularly intrigued by the mirror room.
“The three extra mirrors,” he said thoughtfully. “Just like at Ardamurkan. The three missing scribes’ towers.”
“What do you mean?”
“These mirrors obviously connect somewhere, we just don’t know exactly where. Actually, I might know where one of them is. Now that I’ve seen this tower, the basic plan, as it were, not mucked about and extended like the Ardamurkan one, I’ve seen another like this.”
“Really? Which town?”
“Ah, now that’s the interesting part, it’s not in a town. It’s way up river, almost at the border, just sitting by itself in a low group of hills. There is a small town nearby, but it’s very new, no more than fifty years or so, nothing at all to do with the tower. No one could get into it. I’d guess that only mages can get into this one, actually.”
“Oh – the door is warded, you mean? That would make sense. But how do you know so much about this tower along the river?”
“I grew up not far from there. My brother lives in Zendronia – the new town. But the other two missing towers – no one knows where they are and there’s no way to work it out. There are no records or maps, and the known ones aren’t distributed regularly according to a pattern – where to start looking? It’s a mystery.”
Finally we went upstairs to the room with the pillar, the renewals room, as I still thought of it.
“There!” I said triumphantly.
He licked his lips uneasily. “I’ve never heard any mention of this place.”
“I don’t think the mages know about it. They scuttle through the sewers to the library, but they never wander the city itself, do they?”
“No. They think it’s dangerous, although I’m not sure why exactly. People vanish, but mages should be safe enough, shouldn’t they? Obviously someone came here at one time, to take the working mirrors away, but when I’ve asked about coming into the city, they just tell me that it’s not safe.”
“So,” I said, “do you want to top up your vessel?”
“I—” He sighed. “Kyra, I’m not sure. All the rituals—”
“Are so much pigshit,” I said. “You don’t need them. Look.” I strode across to the pillar and placed both hands on it. At once the energy fizzed into me, and I laughed out loud for sheer joy. It lasted only a few seconds this time, for it wasn’t long since my last renewal. I turned to Cal. “See? Perfectly safe, and not an incantation to be heard.”
Still he hesitated. “Will you do it with me? Both of us holding the vessel?”
“Are you sure? I mean, maybe it was my fault it went wrong before.” Then, a sudden thought. “May I hold it?”
“Why? I mean, what are you going to do?”
“I thought perhaps I could see inside it, see if there’s anything wrong with it.”
“It’s me that the problem, Kyra,” he said, then shrugged. “But why not?”
He dragged the leather thong over his head and pulled the vessel out of its velvet jacket, handing it to me without a word.
At first I just held it by the thong, trying to feel the magic in it with my mind, without success. It was too small a power source, I suppose. So I took the stone in my hand. Then I could feel the magic, but there was also something else – a deep gash, almost cutting it in two. From the outside it looked perfect, but inside the vessel was damaged.
I handed it back. “It has a flaw in it, deep inside. I think that’s why it won’t work now, it can only hold half the energy.”
“Oh.” His face was a mixture of relief and frustration. “You mean – it’s not my fault? It’s the stone? But then it’s broken – and it can’t be fixed.”
“It still works, doesn’t it?” I said. “It just needs topping up more often.” I pointed to the pillar.
“How can I do this by myself?”
It was a good point. It only worked with two hands on the pillar. “How does it work the first time – your initiation?”
“That takes lots of mages. There were ten for mine. There’s a lot of stuff first – you know, the incantations, the rituals. Then everyone joins together in a long line, with the new mage and vessel somewher
e in the middle. Then each end of the line touches the pillar. Having so many people – it dilutes the experience. There isn’t all that – well, touchy business afterwards.”
“Sex, you mean?”
He laughed. “Yes, sex. Then you see if the mage got any power in the new vessel. If so, there’s a proper renewal a ten-sun later.”
“And if not?”
He was silent.
“Oh.” I’d heard rumours of what happened to failed mages, but I’d hoped they weren’t true.
“So,” he said, “will you help me with this?”
“I think it’s better if we find a way for you to do it yourself. If I’m involved, I might divert the energy into myself and that’s not what you want. Why don’t you just wear the vessel round your neck, touching your skin, and then place two hands on the pillar.”
“It’s odd, the way it works with you,” he said slowly, his head tilted on one side as he looked at me appraisingly. “You don’t need a vessel, it’s like you are a vessel.” Then his mood changed abruptly. “Right, I’m going to do this.”
He hung the stone on its thong around his neck, tucking it inside his tunic and undershirt so that it rested against his skin. Then he stood in front of the pillar, flexing his hands, his face deep in concentration. He took a deep breath, then slammed his hands against the pillar.
I could see at once that it was working. He threw his head back and howled, then gasped, breathing raggedly. For an age he stood motionless, and then, with a slight moan, he withdrew his hands. He laughed, turning to me with a triumphant expression.
“It worked! No incantations – that’s all moon-water, isn’t it? Touching it – that’s all it takes.”
“And your vessel?”
He pulled it out, holding it in his hand, considering. “Still not the usual amount, but noticeably more than before. I’ll keep it in its little case, I think. Preserve what power it has.”
He drew me into his arms and kissed me for a long time. There wasn’t the usual post-renewal fire, but we made love anyway and it was good.
After that, we met almost every sun. It suited him to meet late in the morning, for he had mage business before that, so we went into the Imperial City and explored a bit, and then to my house for the noon board before retiring to the bedroom. We were back at the Keep then in time for any evening festivities.
I loved those long, languid afternoons. Sometimes we just lay in bed, curled up together. Other times, we rooted through the big closets trying on the clothes and jewelry that still lay there, as good as new. The clothes all seemed to be designed for a warmer climate – delicate silks and lace, soft cottons and taffetas. We couldn’t work out which were for men and which for women. The jewelry was more interesting: tiny pearls sewn onto strips of lace or threaded onto narrow chains, gold and silver and bronze, great jade pendants, some even sewn onto belts.
We talked about everything under the moon, with no secrets. He told me a great deal about his mage training, although I hadn’t asked him to. Perhaps he felt I ought to know something of mage discipline. It was interesting, but not much help to me. My own magic was very different from the mages with their vessels.
I hardly saw Drei. Most mornings now he was up before I was, and I rarely saw him again until bedtime. Occasionally we were both invited to some function or other, but otherwise I was left to my own devices. He never told me exactly what he was doing, even when I asked, and he never bothered to ask what I was doing. So I never had to confess to my little affair with Cal.
I wasn’t tormented by guilt. I knew I was doing nothing illegal, so I didn’t agonise over it. I suspected that Drei wouldn’t see it that way and I was glad I didn’t have to tell him, but who I slept with was my choice to make. My only obligation was to sleep with Drei whenever he wanted, and I was doing that. He had nothing to complain about there. Besides, my drusse contract was almost at an end, and after that I could be with Cal. If I chose to, of course.
I wasn’t really sure yet what I wanted, or where I wanted to be. I was torn. The logical part of me insisted that I’d be better going back to Ardamurkan to begin rebuilding my life. Another part of me altogether was drawn irresistibly to the Imperial City. And yet another part wanted to be wherever Cal was. I wouldn’t say I was falling in love with him, exactly, but he was tender and affectionate, and how could I help responding to that? I was content, at least.
But then everything began to go wrong.
~~~~~
The first disaster was Marras. I’d almost forgotten about our helpful scholar at the library, as it was so long since I’d been there, but then she started sending me strange little notes. Did I want any information from the library? Could she run any errands for me? And – most worrying – was I all right, and would I like her to visit? I put her off as best I could, but it was unsettling. I supposed she’d noticed we weren’t going to the library any more – well, I wasn’t, I had no idea whether Drei was – and was trying discreetly to find out what was going on.
Then one morning as Cal and I were walking up the main street in the Imperial City, I felt something.
I stopped dead. “A bird. There’s a bird coming.”
“What? But why? How? That’s not supposed to happen, is it?”
“No. We’ve been inspected already, why would it come back?”
“Maybe it’s not for us,” he said.
Slowly, we turned round. And there she was, Marras, skulking behind a statue, trying to hide and not making a good job of it.
“What are you doing?” I yelled, running back down the street towards her. “Why are you here? Were you following us?”
“Please don’t be angry!” she said. “I was just curious. I saw you disappear into the wall one sun, so I’ve been watching... Oh please, don’t hurt me!”
Then she shrieked as the bird arrived, and circled round us. The creature dived low over our heads, and Cal gasped and grabbed my hand. Marras fell to the ground, screaming over and over.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I whispered to her.
Cal and I clung to each other, but there was nothing we could do for poor Marras. She was only a scholar, she had no magic to protect her, and there was nowhere to hide. She screamed and ran and ducked and flailed about, but there was no escape. The bird swooped down and grasped her shoulders in its wickedly long talons, and with a few powerful sweeps of its wings created a rush of wind as it took off. Then it winked out of existence still carrying Marras, her last scream cut off precipitously.
Cal and I stood clutching each other, shaking. I was crying, I discovered.
“What shall we do?” My voice trembled.
“Nothing,” he said in a whisper. “She’s gone. There’s nothing we can do. We can’t tell anyone, can we? She’ll be missed eventually, and they’ll work out what happened.”
We were sombre that sun. We wandered about aimlessly for an hour or two, hardly aware of where we were, both of us disturbed by what had happened. We couldn’t have prevented it, but still we felt some guilt. If we had been more careful, had paid more attention, perhaps we could have spotted her sooner, and got her out before the harm was done.
Noon came and went, but eventually Cal remembered there would be food waiting at my house. I wasn’t sure I could eat, but he was hungry so we started to look for a shortcut.
“We can cut through underground,” I said. “That building over there – I’m sure the basement connects with a tunnel going most of the way there. It’ll be quicker than following the streets.”
Of course we got lost. There were tunnels everywhere, but no markings on them and no means to get our bearings.
“I think it’s this way,” he said, as we stood irresolute at a corner. “Come on.” I hesitated, and he went forward a little way. “Look, I’m sure this is right, I recognise that door down there.”
He strode off confidently. There was a sudden shimmer, like a summer heat-haze.
Then he vanished. Gone.
Des
pair washed through me, turning every limb to water. I was too stunned to move.
“Cal? Cal!” I called uselessly.
I thought – hoped – he was playing a trick on me. Slowly I walked down to the spot where he’d been, but there was nothing; no hidden door, no markings on the wall, no symbols. The walls were blank.
Panic overtook me. Frantically I raced up and down the corridor screaming his name. Eventually, grief caught up with me. I collapsed, flopping to the floor, distraught and sobbing.
Cal was gone.
20: A Surprise
I hardly knew what I did after that. The tears dried up eventually, but I was numb, frozen with disbelief. I think I stumbled around in the tunnels for a while, looking for Cal even though my heart knew he was gone. Dead, I supposed, but that was too much to take in. How could someone just disappear like that? The birds, yes, they were magical beings, they could pop in and out of existence between one heartbeat and the next. But humans had to leave traces behind, didn’t they? Footprints, a dropped scarf, a scent... a body, at worst.
The Fire Mages Page 21
