The Traitor and the Chalice

by Jane Fletcher

  Tevi marched to the entrance to the main square. She stopped, fists on hips, and bellowed, “I want to talk to somebody in authority!”

  “Will I do.” The voice came from a darkened alleyway. The firm tone made clear that despite the words, it was not a question.

  Tevi spun around. A stocky figure emerged into the forecourt—a woman in late middle age, with untidy grey hair tacked up in a bun. The new arrival considered the scene, taking in Tevi’s defiant scowl, the fallen apprentice, and the cowering mercenaries by the gatehouse.

  “What exactly is going on?”

  The apprentice scrambled to her feet, relief evident on her face. “Oh, Neame, ma’am. These mercenaries want to see you. They’ve got a warrant from Lyremouth.” She cast a dubious look at Tevi. “But they’re a bit overexcited. Perhaps they should explain what it’s about for themselves.”

  *

  “These accusations are preposterous. You cannot expect me to take them seriously.” Bramell’s well-modulated tones did nothing to mask his anger.

  Tevi was unimpressed. “I’m simply telling you what we’ve learned.”

  “What you believe you’ve learned from this childish subterfuge. What right did you have to act like that?”

  “We were obeying the Guardian’s orders.” Tevi was politely stubborn.

  “Preposterous or not, we’ve got to look into it. You can’t ignore the warrant.” Neame added her support.

  Tevi looked at her with gratitude. They three were the only ones in the principal’s study.

  Bramell carried on. “Why didn’t Jemeryl tell me this herself?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you bring her here and ask her?” Tevi was mastering her impatience with difficulty.

  “I will. We can also hear what Levannue has to say.” Bramell made his decision. He opened the door and called to an assistant. “I want to see Jemeryl at once. And could you also find Levannue and ask her to step in here?”

  The room was quiet while they waited. Tevi looked at the bare walls. Bramell’s study was smaller and plainer than she had expected. Sun-bleached outlines on the walls indicated that previous occupants had preferred a little more ornamentation. The man himself matched Jemeryl’s description perfectly. Neame also was true to the portrait Jemeryl had painted, although Tevi sensed a mind at once both subtler and more straightforward than she had anticipated.

  The delay dragged on. Bramell grew increasingly irritable. He paced to the window, although nothing was visible in the darkness outside. Turning his back on the night, he resumed his attack on Tevi. “Do you realise how serious your allegations are? Levannue is a senior sorcerer. If this is a joke, you’re in for some nasty shocks.”

  Tevi bit her tongue; she had other concerns. She had the impression that Jemeryl was being held nearby, but it was taking considerable time for her to arrive. The assurance that Jemeryl was safe, even if incarcerated, had gone part way to easing Tevi’s anxiety, but she would only be happy once she had seen her lover in person.

  “Is it possible Jemeryl has duped this mercenary in some way?” Bramell addressed Neame.

  “I don’t see how. The warrant is undoubtedly genuine.”

  Bramell opened his mouth to speak but was forestalled by the sound of running feet.

  The door to the study flew open, and a young witch burst in. “Please, sir. Jemeryl’s ill. She’s taken something. We couldn’t wake her.”

  *

  The quarantine rooms lay along a narrow corridor, leading from a central upstairs lobby. Despite the late hour, the hallways were busy. Huddled groups exchanged whispers that hissed like waves on a beach. Distant doors slammed.

  Tevi sat at the top of the stairs on the lobby floor, trying to ignore the inquisitive looks sent in her direction. Her back was against the wall, and her eyes were fixed on the door to the room where Jemeryl lay. Nearby stood a group of apprentices. Their juvenile excitement jarred on Tevi’s nerves. Another young woman, with a sorcerer’s black amulet, was going from group to group, desperately questioning anyone willing to talk. Most were only too eager. From the description, Tevi guessed that she was Vine.

  The school gossip was eyeing Tevi and obviously preparing to accost her when the door down the hallway opened and Bramell emerged. He strode to the intersection.

  Tevi scrambled to her feet. “How is Jemeryl?”

  Bramell did not answer. He glared at the other occupants of the lobby. “Will everyone who has no business here leave immediately.”

  Everyone made haste to comply, until only one small apprentice remained. “Please, sir.”

  “What is it?”

  “We couldn’t find Levannue. Do you still want to talk to her?”

  Bramell’s expression barely changed, but Tevi sensed that something inside the man crumpled.

  The apprentice carried on speaking timidly. “If you wish, sir, I could go to your rooms and see if she has returned.”

  “That is not necessary.” Bramell’s voice was devoid of its usual confidence.

  The apprentice made her escape, running down the now-vacant stairway.

  Bramell stood, looking around without appearing to see anything, but then he lurched towards the stairs. No trace remained of the arrogance and self-assurance he had shown in his office. Tevi could have pitied him, except she had her own worries.

  As he walked past, she caught his arm. “How is Jemeryl?”

  “Neame is attending to her. Everything is being done.” Bramell spoke the bland phrases in a daze.

  “Can I see her now?”

  “No. You would disturb Neame’s work.” Bramell looked at Tevi as if trying to remember who she was. “I want you to take a message to the mayor in Ekranos. I’ve already sent sorcerers to aid the harbourmaster. But she...” He stopped, gathering himself. “Levannue may attempt to escape by other routes. Have the mayor send messengers to all surrounding towns. Ordinary folk won’t be able to stop her, but they might raise the alarm. The Coven will dispatch more resources as soon as possible.”

  “Two of my guild comrades are outside. They can take the message.”

  “There’s nothing you can do here. We will take care of Jemeryl.” Bramell’s voice lacked authority, but he would have made no impression on Tevi regardless of how he had spoken.

  “I’m staying with her.”

  Bramell did not have the spirit to argue. He turned and walked down the stairs with the bearing of a condemned criminal on the way to the gallows. His footsteps faded along the corridor below. A door banged shut, then there was silence.

  Tevi paced the length of the corridor. She stared through the window at the end, haunted by her brief glimpse of Jemeryl’s pale face and the cold touch of her skin.

  After a long time, she moved away and stopped outside the room where Jemeryl lay. The night had grown chill, but Tevi could not leave. The door to another quarantine room stood ajar. It was unoccupied, but the two narrow bunks were made. Tevi pulled a blanket from one and returned to the corridor. She sank to the floor, hugging her knees and facing Jemeryl’s room. It might be a long vigil. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and prepared to wait.

  *

  The creak of the door roused Tevi from a doze. Neame’s haggard face peered around the edge. Tevi leapt to her feet, disentangling herself from the blanket. Hours had passed. Faint grey light, preceding dawn, lay beyond the window. The wind off the sea rustled under the eaves of the roof.

  Neame looked exhausted. Her drawn face revealed nothing.

  “How is she?” Tevi forced herself to ask.

  “She’ll be fine.” Neame lifted a hand and pushed back a stray wisp of grey hair. “Another quarter hour, and it would have been a different story.” She beckoned Tevi into the room.

  Tevi stumbled past, crying with relief, and collapsed beside the bed.

  The covers rose and fell with Jemeryl’s breathing. Her face was pale, but a faint flush coloured her cheeks. When Tevi caught hold of Jemeryl’s hand, the skin felt
cool, dry, and supple. Stifling a sob, Tevi pressed it against her face.

  Neame shuffled to Tevi’s side. “I need to sleep. Jemeryl should be all right, but someone should keep watch, and if she shows signs of distress summon”—Neame waved her hand, searching for a name—“the sorcerer on duty downstairs.” She pointed vaguely through the floor.

  The elderly sorcerer turned towards the door. On her way out, she collided with a small table bearing a collar, sawn open. She picked the device up and stared at it with contempt. “Levannue...damn her.” The collar flew across the room and struck the far wall. It dropped clattering to the floor.

  The door shut behind Neame. Tevi shifted onto the edge of the bed and brushed the auburn curls back from Jemeryl’s face. The sleeping woman’s lips moved slightly. Tevi thought she recognised her own name.

  Tevi’s legs were numb from sleeping on the floor. To ease the stiffness, she stood and wandered to the window. Dawn was breaking over the sea. Off to the east a pale smudge was cut on the horizon. One bright star hung low in the sky, vying with the growing light.

  Tevi left the window and dragged a chair across. She sat and again took hold of Jemeryl’s hand. At that moment, the simple contact was the most precious thing in Tevi’s world. Her eyes fixed on her lover’s face.

  Nearly a year and a half had passed since she had left Storenseg. Much had happened. Tevi remembered the distress she had felt the first time she had killed someone—a young bandit. Her expression became grim. Now there was someone she wanted to kill. Tevi knew that when Levannue lay dead before her, there would be no regrets.

  Part Two

  The Chalice

  Chapter Ten—Stinking Dog-Root

  Tevi bounced down the steps of the guildhall. She hit a wall of heat. Ekranos was simmering at the height of summer. Sun beat down on her head, baking her into the pavement. Shade was at a premium. Tevi set off through the airless town, keeping to whatever shade she could find.

  On a tree-lined avenue, a group of mercenaries was gathered outside a busy tavern. Tevi stopped for an exchange of stale jokes and gossip. Several asked her to stay, but the invitations were half-hearted. Tevi declined and pretended not to notice the relief. She concealed her own grimace until after she had turned away.

  The noise of the tavern faded as Tevi joined the main road leading through the western gates. The midday heat reduced the usual crowds to a trickle. Beyond the town, there was little to offer protection from the sun, although a breeze blew off the sea, cleansing the air of dust. The road ahead climbed across the parched landscape. Tevi adopted an easy, mile-eating stride and, to the rhythm of her steps, mused on her current status.

  She had divided the previous month between the school of herbalism and the mercenary guildhall, and had felt an outsider in both. At the school, she was neither a healer nor a patient, and many clearly thought she had no place there. At best, she was ignored; at worst, she was treated like Jemeryl’s unwelcome toy.

  When she was grudgingly offered a bed in the servant’s dormitory, she had opted to remain in the guildhall. However, this was not without tension, as demonstrated by the group at the tavern. The other mercenaries now treated her with strained politeness. Gone were the horseplay and crude good humour, inhibited by her newly perceived role as a sorcerer’s lover, or should the word be “partner”? Tevi was unsure if the term needed official ratification.

  Tevi shook her head, partly to clear sweat from her eyes and partly to dismiss the troubling thoughts. She paused to catch her breath in the shade of a stunted tree. Branches fanned out close to the ground, covered with bark that peeled in ragged fibres. Dull olive leaves rattled in the breeze.

  Ekranos was laid out below her, white walls and black shadows in a bleached landscape. Only the blue sea was unfaded until the sparkling ripples blended into a silver plain, meeting the sky. Tevi’s eyes rested on the familiar horizon of her childhood, but the sight stirred no memories of Storenseg. Somewhere out there was a woman who had tried to murder Jemeryl. The thought overrode all others.

  Tevi resumed her trek. The climb in the heat was draining. The guildhall would have loaned her a horse if she had been willing to trade on Jemeryl’s name. Walking was a way of asserting her independence, although it was doubtful that it affected anyone’s perception of her. Sweat trickled down her sides. Her shirt clung to her back. By the time the school walls appeared above the crest of the hill, she was cursing her own pride.

  The main entrance was a wide stone arch, without gates or barrier. The school was guarded by nothing visible to the eyes of the ungifted; yet there were guards. Tevi shuddered, remembering the way she had charged in. She was wiser now. Jemeryl had made sure of it.

  The school layout had become very familiar to Tevi, and no one challenged her as she crossed the site. She reached her destination to find the study door wedged open and Vine alone at her desk. A book lay open in front of her, although the young sorcerer was showing no sign of reading.

  She greeted Tevi’s arrival eagerly. “Hi. Jem’s expecting you. She’s outside. I’ll show you where.”

  Vine was a rare exception at the school, willing to treat Tevi as a friend. In cynical moments, Tevi wondered if it was because you did not pick up gossip by offending your sources. Vine would undoubtedly pump her for information, but Tevi had already learnt that asking your own questions was the best way to deflect Vine’s curiosity.

  “Is there any news of Bramell or Levannue?” Tevi asked as they walked along the veranda.

  “Bramell should have reached Lyremouth by now, but it’ll be some time before we hear back. As for Levannue...” Vine shrugged. “I think she’s slipped the net.”

  “I’d have thought the school could have traced her with magic.”

  “But that takes sixth-dimensional ability, and nobody here could match her skills. Lyremouth should be able to do better, which is why Bramell went there.”

  “It must all be awkward for him. Do you think he’ll resign?”

  “I don’t know. When he returns, it...” Vine’s voice faded. The idea obviously interested her.

  They rounded the building. A couch was set in the shade of a faded blue canopy. Jemeryl lay sprawled amid piles of cushions with Klara asleep on the headrest.

  “You found me, then.” Jemeryl glanced between them. “Has Vine been quizzing you?”

  “Actually, I’ve been the one asking questions.”

  “Tevi was asking for news of Levannue. I don’t suppose Neame has told you anything?”

  Vine’s casual tone did not hide her eagerness, but for all her news-gathering skills, Tevi suspected that she missed the twitch of Jemeryl’s eyebrows. And Tevi was not about to enlighten her. “No. Nobody tells me anything. They’re worried about upsetting me.”

  Vine directed a frown at Jemeryl. “But you aren’t saying much either. I wish I knew what it was all about. I don’t even know what Levannue has done. Apart from trying to murder you, of course.”

  “It must be very trying for you.” Jemeryl sounded more amused than sympathetic. “But you know we can’t say anything.”

  “Come on...a clue, a hint? You could do a mime.” Vine’s plea was met by laughter.

  “I thought you were supposed to be studying,” Jemeryl said pointedly.

  “All right, I’m going.” Vine stalked away with her nose in the air, but the exchange was good-natured. Her pout consisted entirely of self-mockery.

  Jemeryl watched her go. “Poor Vine. I think she feels physical pain knowing a secret is being withheld from her.”

  Tevi kissed Jemeryl gently and then sat on the grass. She stretched out her legs and rested her shoulders against the couch. Her head lay cushioned on Jemeryl’s lap. Above her, a sea of ripples chased across the canopy in the breeze. Tevi shifted her focus to the upside-down face. Jemeryl’s lips were pale and a yellow tinge stained her eyes, but health was returning. The skeletal gauntness had left Jemeryl’s naturally sharp-boned features. The listless weakness had also gone
, and today, there was an extra glint in her eyes.

  “You’ve learnt something about Levannue.” Tevi stated it as a fact.

  “How do you know?”

  “By your face when Vine mentioned her name.”

  Jemeryl sighed and brushed the hair from Tevi’s forehead. “Just don’t teach Vine the knack.”

  “So what is it? Has she been caught?”

  “No. It’s only some guesswork.”

  Tevi swivelled around to face Jemeryl. “And...?”

  “I’ve been thinking. They’ve lost track of Levannue. The only thing we can do is try to work out where she’s going. This would be difficult, except we know her claimed destination. It was probably the truth. She had no reason to hide it back when she first announced her plans, and she wouldn’t have wanted to raise an alarm if she didn’t arrive as expected.”

  “So we can eliminate that town and narrow our search down to the rest of the world?”

  Jemeryl laughed. “It’s actually a rather significant piece of information. Levannue was due to stop off on the way, but her final destination was a town called Corrisburn, near where Whitfell Spur joins the Barrodens. It’s a plausible place to test out wards. A lot of nasty things live in the high mountains. But it is also only eighty miles from where Lorimal did her original research.”

  “There’s something there. Something Lorimal left behind.” Tevi guessed immediately.

  “That’s one possibility, and I’m sure the Guardian will spot it. I’ve come up with another idea. The name Corrisburn struck a chord with me. Yesterday, I remembered why. There’s a plant that grows wild in the mountains that’s used in various spells. There are several towns where it’s harvested. Corrisburn is the source the school uses. I must have written the name a dozen times while I was tidying the dispensary. I suspect Levannue wants the plant and checked the school records to see where she could get it.”