by M. J. Scott
Sophie stared down at the stone. “Is it dangerous?”
“That is for them to decide. It made you feel odd. That should be enough to interest them.”
“It was just a chill,” Sophie protested.
“A chill in a room that’s stifling hot,” Lord Scardale said. “Some earth witches can sense Illvyan magics. Perhaps you’re one of them.” He herded them a little way away from the pile.
“Best you continue on with your walk for now. Someone will come to fetch you if the Illusioners need to hear more about what you felt.” Lord Sylvain peered at her a moment, then turned to Cameron. “Lord Scardale, I think you should bring your lady wife to take tea with me soon. Not today. I don’t think there will be any time today. But soon. Tomorrow if you can.”
“But what—” Cameron started to ask, but Lord Sylvain shook his head.
“Just bring her,” he said, and then he shouted across the hall for Master Egan.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It seemed that Lord Sylvain’s prediction that there would be no time to take tea with him that day was correct. A few hours after dinner, Cameron and Sophie were summoned to Eloisa’s council, the message requesting their presence delivered by no less a person than Lord Sylvain himself.
“We have made a little progress,” Master Egan said once the council had seated themselves and the queen had requested that he explain why they were there. Not that any of them truly needed an explanation. Everyone knew that Master Egan was in charge of the investigation into the attack. “Earlier today, we had cause to examine one of the pieces of rubble more closely, thanks to Lady Scardale. She had a reaction to the stone, and Lord Sylvain drew our attention to it. I can confirm there’s part of an Illvyan scriptii on the stone that Lady Scardale reacted to.”
The assembled councilors looked grim at the Illusioner’s announcement, but none of them looked overly surprised. Cameron watched Eloisa, more concerned with her reaction than any others. After all, the queen was the one who could drag the country to war if she chose.
Beside him, Sophie was silent, sitting upright in her chair as though poised to flee. He moved his knee under the table slightly to touch hers. It wouldn’t be politic to take her hand, but he still wanted to give her what comfort he could.
“You’re one hundred percent certain?” Liam asked when no one else spoke.
Master Egan nodded impatiently. “I could show you if you wish. But we have the stone under ward now. It would take time to fetch it.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Eloisa said. “Your word on the matter is enough, Master Egan.”
“We must act,” Domina Skey said abruptly. “An Illvyan scriptii on the stone proves that Illvyan magic was involved. That Illvyan agents are at work.”
“What exactly do you think it is we should do?” Lord Sylvain asked. He wasn’t an active member of the council, though he had served King Stefan as councilor early in the king’s reign. But he had accompanied Sophie and Cameron to the meeting when Master Egan insisted that they be there to explain what had happened. It seemed no one wanted to eject him. “We have proof of Illvyan magic, yes. But we have no idea of who placed the scriptii there. Or whom they were working with. That’s hardly solid basis for starting a war.”
The Domina gave him a poisonous look. “Illvyan magic is abomination. The perpetrators must be found and punished. And we must show Illvya that we will not stand idly and let them attack us.”
“I don’t disagree with you on that point,” Lord Sylvain said. “I just disagree that we need to punish everybody. The goddess advocates mercy; does she not?”
“Not to mention that the trade delegation is not due to start home for several more days. If you make warlike noises right now, you’ll sacrifice all of them. And the goods they bring,” Lord Airlight said.
That brought another babble of people talking over one another. Cameron rubbed his neck where the muscles were pulling tight. Sophie had been right. They should have just stayed in bed. He could be making love to his wife right now instead of them both being embroiled smack-dab in the middle of the investigation into the attack, bringing even more attention upon themselves.
At the opposite end of the long council table, Commander Peters looked thoroughly exasperated. Cameron began to count in his head, and before he reached five, the commander bellowed, “Silence!”
The room went quiet, only the slightly plaintive voice of the new Erl of Farkeep, who’d finally arrived in Kingswell the day after the coronation, saying, “I still don’t understand how she knew it was Illvyan . . .” breaking the silence.
Cameron fought the urge to roll his eyes. The new erl was about a year older than Sophie and apparently had been to the capital exactly once in his life. Hopefully, the lad would find himself a mentor in the ways of the court sooner rather than later. He needed to start learning fast or he would be the first one banished from Eloisa’s council, and the Farkeep family’s fall would be rapid after that.
“My Lord Farkeep,” Eloisa said, breaking her silence. “Lady Scardale is a royal witch. Chosen of the goddess. Illvyan magic—scriptii, at least—is anathema to the goddess. Her magic sensed the disturbance from that.”
It was a pat enough explanation. Lord Farkeep wasn’t a battle mage, so he didn’t understand how magic worked. He was a third cousin of the old erl, and he’d been living quietly on a very tiny estate with his family somewhere in Caloteen sheep country. The explanation would suffice for now, if the erl had the sense to ask no more questions on the subject, having had it explained twice now. Across the table, Lord Sylvain caught Cameron’s eye, and Cameron remembered what he had promised. That he would bring Sophie to see the old man. Obviously, there was something more he had to tell them. Cameron was going to make damned sure they got the chance to hear what he had to say.
If they ever got out of the council hall. It was already past nine. It had taken time to assemble the council after Master Egan had sent the news to the queen and then more time for the Illusioners to perform whatever tests it was they had to confirm the small dark line carved into the stone was indeed an Illvyan scriptii and not some line left by one of the destroyed ornamental metalwork that had decorated the hall or something similar.
And the meeting showed no signs of ending anytime soon.
“But how the magic was discovered is a secondary consideration,” the queen continued. “What matters now is that we have discovered it. And I am forced to agree with Lord Sylvain. It is too early for retaliation.”
“Your Majesty, you should seize the advantage—” the Domina started to say, but Eloisa cut her off with a sharp gesture.
“We will not fight. Not yet.”
“Then what do you want us to do?” Lord Airlight asked. After Lord Sylvain, he was the oldest man in the room, though he was only five and fifty or so, rather than into his seventies as Sylvain was. He was the senior surviving member of the council, having served King Stefan as councilor for more than a decade.
Eloisa pursed her lips. “We need to show them we are not intimidated by anything that has occurred. They are trying to scare us, trying to keep us off-balance. What we need is a show of strength. They need to see that life in Anglion continues as ever it did.”
Lord Sylvain nodded agreement. Cameron glanced at the Domina. It was just as well for the council members that it wasn’t possible for an earth witch to set a man alight. Otherwise, judging by the Domina’s furious expression, the council might have been several members short.
“What did you have in mind?” Liam asked.
His brother, at least, was doing far better than Lord Farkeep. But then, Liam had been raised to take his place as erl one day. Cameron had just never quite realized how good his brother would be at it. He always thought Liam had chafed under their father’s rule as much as he had done. But maybe he had only ever been biding his time until it was his turn.
“I think we should have a birthday party. For our new royal witch,” Eloisa said.
&n
bsp; “Excuse me?” Sophie said at the same time as the Domina. It was the first time Sophie had said anything when not directly asked since the meeting had begun, but she flinched back in her chair when she heard the Domina’s voice with hers.
“It’s perfect,” Eloisa said. “We need normality. Reassurance for the populace. And a reminder that Anglion is strong in its own magic. Lady Scardale never got her Ais-Seann celebration. We should have one now. It’s a little unorthodox, but it will work.” She nodded decisively. “Yes. A ball for our newest witch. The Domina can teach Sophie something splashy to do at the party, and that will send the right message to everyone.”
Sophie had gone completely still beside him. Cameron curled his hand into a fist at his side so he wouldn’t reach for her.
Commander Peters had listened quietly to the queen, but now he nodded. “I think you are right, Your Majesty. It is just the sort of thing the city needs. It will calm everyone and distract attention from the investigation. Give whoever might be watching something to focus on whilst Master Egan and his men keep working quietly to find us more information.”
“Thank you, Commander,” the queen said. “Then that’s settled. A party for our dear Lady Scardale. Soon I think. Sixth day, perhaps?”
“Now, then, my dear,” Lord Sylvain said as he settled himself back into a comfortably stuffed armchair in his front parlor, which was messy and masculine and also shimmering with more wards than Sophie had seen on any personal room in the palace. Including the queen’s. “Why don’t you take a pastry to go with that tea? I sent my man out specially to fetch them. He’ll be heartbroken if we don’t eat them.”
Sophie smiled obediently and took a tiny fruit-laden tart. She wasn’t terribly hungry; her appetite had fled the previous afternoon when she had accidentally discovered the stone with the scriptii. Cameron had tried to get her to eat when they’d finally been allowed to go back to their apartment after the council meeting. She’d managed a bite or two of bread and cheese to please him. Then he’d changed tactics and poured her a glass of Iska—which she wasn’t sure she was ever going to grow to love—made her drink it, and took her to bed.
The combination of sex and alcohol had let her sleep at least, but the nerves fluttering in her stomach still left her with no desire for food.
She sipped the tea, which was strong and hot and sweet. That much she could stomach.
“You have to eat, Lady Scardale,” Lord Sylvain said. “Royal witches use a lot of energy in what they do.”
“I haven’t done any magic today.”
“Maybe not, but if the Domina is going to teach you some party piece for your birthday extravaganza, then you’ll need your strength. My first wife was a royal witch. I know what I’m talking about.”
“She was?” Sophie said, diverted from her nerves about the party. The last thing she wanted was to be the center of attention all over again.
“Yes. Second, too, for that matter, but she was never strong, not like my Louisa.”
“I never knew that,” Sophie said. Which was interesting. She had been drilled in the lineage of every person in the court. She knew Lord Sylvain had been married twice, that his first wife had died young, killed in a riding accident, but she couldn’t remember any mention of the fact that she’d been a witch. Why had that been left out of the court records?
“Well, she’s ancient history now,” Lord Sylvain said.
Sophie saw an echo of sadness in his face. She didn’t think the memory of his wife was ancient history to him. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Lord Sylvain waved a hand at her. “Eat your tart, child. It was a long time ago.”
Sophie picked up the tart and glanced at Cameron. They’d agreed to let Lord Sylvain tell them whatever it was he wanted to tell them in his own time, but she was starting to think that perhaps they needed to hurry him along. She was supposed to go to the temple later to learn whatever it was the Domina came up with for her to do at her Ais-Seann ball.
Cameron put down his empty cup. “My lord, you said you wanted to talk to us.”
“Mostly to your wife,” Sylvain said. “Still, what I have to say concerns her well-being, which I assume is of interest to you, as well.” He focused on Sophie. “So, milady, how about you tell me exactly what is going on with your powers.”
Sophie almost dropped her teacup. “Your Grace?”
“There’s something afoot,” Lord Sylvain said. “You noticed that stone when none of the Illusioners did. Never mind that nonsense Eloisa was spouting about the goddess. And Domina Skey keeps watching you as though you might explode. Not to mention that Eloisa used to treat you like a favorite pet, and now she’s giving you the cold shoulder. Now, part of that might be due to young Mackenzie here—”
Beside her, Cameron choked on the pastry he was eating and started to cough.
“Oh, don’t be coy, lad,” Lord Sylvain said. “You did a good job of keeping it quiet, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve known Eloisa since she was an infant, and I know what she’s like with men. I was starting to wonder if she was going to try to convince Stefan that you would be a possible match, but it appears not. The fact that she tossed you to your wife here and doesn’t seem so happy with the situation tells me something else is behind all of this.”
“I’m not sure this is something we can talk about,” Cameron said when he got his breath back.
“This room is well warded,” Lord Sylvain said. “I’ve spent a long time studying magic, lad. I don’t think even the Domina could get past my wards. Well, not unless she had some help.” He looked at Sophie again as he spoke. “Now, I was married to two royal witches, and I can make an educated guess about what might have gone on, but this will be easier if you tell me.”
“Sophie is just strong,” Cameron said. “I think Domina Skey hasn’t quite figured out how to use that talent.”
“Oh, I think she has. Otherwise our queen would still be lying injured in bed,” Lord Sylvain countered. “Your wife is strong, I’ll give you that, but unless I have indeed finally lost my marbles, I’d say that she’s also unbound.”
Sophie flinched. So much for keeping their secret. “What do you know about bindings?”
“I told you, I’ve spent a lot of time studying magic. And not just blood and air. As I said, I was married to two earth witches. I wanted to understand them. So you tell me if I’m right and then maybe I can help you.”
“Help me?”
“Survive,” he said bluntly. “If you’re unbound, then you’re in danger here. More than you know, perhaps. Maybe if the attack hadn’t happened and Stefan were still king, you would be fine. Then again, if the attack hadn’t happened, you’d be safely bound and probably sharing your bed with someone other than Mackenzie. Here and now, with the Domina pushing for war—which I do not like one bit—and Eloisa listening to her a little too much, I’m not sure I like your chances if you don’t know how to guard yourself.”
He looked at Cameron then. “Have you made sure she knows how to fire a gun, at least? She should carry one if she can.”
“I can shoot,” Sophie said. “My father taught me.”
Lord Sylvain nodded approval. “I always did like your father. Good. Then Cameron will get you a gun, and that will be a start. So tell me, what happened? Did the two of you fall into bed or something? All the excitement of being on the run get to you?”
Sophie felt her cheeks go hot.
“This isn’t exactly a topic I wish to discuss,” Cameron said.
“No time to be squeamish. And I’m too old to be shocked by anything much when it comes to people and sex. Sex has made people stupid as long as I’ve been alive, and I’m sure it will continue to do so long after I’ve returned to the earth. So, you did sleep with the lass?”
“It wasn’t Cameron’s fault,” Sophie said, deciding to throw caution to the wind. Lord Sylvain was the first person other than Cameron who seemed to be on her side. He could be playing some sort of game, but it wou
ld have to be very deep. She couldn’t see what advantage he would gain from exposing her. “It was me. The morning of my birthday. I touched the ley line, and when Cameron pulled me out, well, things happened. If you were married to a royal witch, perhaps you understand that.”
The old man’s expression turned faintly nostalgic. “Perhaps I do. All right. So you jumped the gun. And then the Domina couldn’t bind you to the goddess. Did she explain why?”
“Not exactly. She said it was because I was no longer virgin.”
Lord Sylvain shook his head. “Not such a good sign. And the marriage binding?”
“The Domina said she didn’t know if it worked or not. The sigils faded but didn’t disappear,” Sophie admitted.
“That’s too bad. I was never sick a day in my life when my wives were alive. Though perhaps that won’t be an issue for you, either, Mackenzie.”
“Do you know why the ritual didn’t work, sir?” Cameron asked.
Lord Sylvain levered himself out of his chair and stomped over to the very crowded bookcase that took up an entire wall of the room. He put his hand on one of the books, and Sophie saw a ward flare and dissolve. Then he pulled out a slim book bound in green leather, put the ward back in place, and came back to the chair.
“Did you take that from the Illusioners’ Hall?” Sophie asked.
His bushy eyebrows flew up. “They have a copy of this book there?”
“If that one is called On Bindings, then yes, they do. Though the writing within has faded terribly. I could hardly read any of it.”
“I’d imagine it’s faded deliberately,” Sylvain said. “And I’m surprised it’s there at all. It was written by an Illvyan.”
“It was?”
“How did you get a copy?” Cameron asked.
“Ways and means, lad. Ways and means. It’s not altogether impossible to get things out of Illvya besides trade goods—as the refugees prove. Not that I’d try now to obtain something like this book. Now it might be a good way of getting dead. But forty years ago, things were less well regulated.”
