by Karen Myers
Penrys wanted to tell them that if they were overwhelmed and these chained wizards were knowledgeable, they could probably force ordinary people at quite a distance to help them. But, if they believed that, this impasse would never be resolved. And she didn’t really think they knew what to do or how to join together, so she took the risk on herself. She thought Najud might know better, but he kept his council.
She glanced at him and he gave her an encouraging nod. She scanned the cells ahead of her and felt the five minds, their bright cores, so much brighter than the ordinary wizards around her. They were no longer asleep.
“It’s time,” she said, looking at each of them. “You all understand—you will observe, and I will lead. If it goes well, it will be quite boring.” Her smile flickered at them.
“If things go very wrong, then you know what to do.” That last was directed to the captain of the guard. He had orders to release an aerosol version of sedchabke which Chosmod had prepared. It would be a crude defense, but it ought to put them all down.
A guard unlocked the gate into the cell area, and stood aside, ready to slam it shut and lock it as soon as the last one was inside.
Penrys was relieved to find chairs set up inside, in two rows in front of the five spaced cells. The sound of the gate opening and then slamming shut with a clang had brought the five of the prisoners to the front of their cells. They were all clothed from the garments left for them.
She focused her attention on the minds around her—the wizards of unknown potential behind her and the five in front of her, and tried to shut out all other concerns.
Those chairs needed to be shoved against the opposite cells, or their spread-out audience wouldn’t be able to see them. With a wave of her hand, she pushed the observers to move them back. Najud led the activity.
Then she hauled the chair she’d reserved for herself and pulled it forward a few feet, making sure the prisoners could see her, and sat down.
“Well,” she said to them. “This is a real mess, isn’t it?”
Some of them blinked, Not what they had expected.
“You were given a drug called sedchabke. They use it in Rasesdad to suppress the mind and body of a wizard, as part of their training.”
A flicker of surprise rose from two minds.
“Yes, you’re all wizards. Didn’t you know?”
She stood up and walked in front of them, with her chain on prominent display. “So am I. So are most of them.” She waved a hand in the direction of the audience.
“My first question is—are you all right? That drug isn’t supposed to be used that long. No visions of dragons? No one gibbering?”
An involuntary chuckle broke from one of them. The mind-glows seemed healthy enough. Anger and fear were both to be expected, and there was plenty of that. Fair enough.
“M’name’s Penrys. I was found, a bit over three years ago, in Ellech, by that wizard.” She pointed to Vylkar. “Unclothed, with no memory.” She monitored their reactions and nodded in satisfaction. “Sounds familiar, eh?”
“We’re not the only ones. You must have heard us, yesterday. Over there, in those cells, are what’s left of a bunch of others. And, of course, there’re more to be found.”
She could feel defensive shields rising, from those that knew how.
“Before you start worrying, let me explain what’s happening. While you were making a life for yourselves in Kigali, I blundered into a situation in the west…”
She told them the story of the Voice in Neshilik, and then the poor qahulajti in sarq-Zannib. “So, you can see that the only chained wizards who had made themselves known to the Kigali so far were those two, and me.”
They were still listening. “Now, you know the Kigaliwen… No wizards here, eh?”
More chuckles. Good. “This made them reconsider that position. So they decided to do something about it. They summoned some of us foreigners to tell them if they had any wizards in chains—that was a smart move. And they alerted the villages to find out if there were any there. And that was bad judgment, in my opinion. They didn’t understand how many of you would look like foreigners and didn’t think about what might happen.”
The mind glows were sad now, or outraged.
“Yes, I can tell you agree with me. They know it was ill done—it’s not what they wanted. In a panic, they asked the Rasesni to help with this drug, and you’ve been here a while, some of you more than others. They’ve been feeding you liquids and trying to keep you alive.”
She waved her hand above her head. “You’re down in the depths of the Imperial Security building in Yenit Ping, by the way, in case you’ve never been here before.”
A snort or two. “I’ve been tasked by Tun Jeju, a notju I met in Neshilik, to try and fix all this. I got here yesterday, and here we are.”
She sat down and waited for a response. None of them had given her a name yet and she tagged them in private, left to right, as Kigali woman, Rasesni woman, a man of her own ethnicity, Kigali man, and Ndant man.
The Kigali man said, “Why should we tell you anything, or cooperate?”
She shrugged. “Well, I can’t think of any good reason, except that you’re on this side of the aisle instead of that side.” She hooked a thumb behind her. “Lot of dead people over there, though as far as I know none of them were killed directly by Imperial Security.”
They need more context and fewer things to hide. “Did you know that many of them could modify their form? I don’t know if all of you can, but some of them died that way, and me, well…”
She stood up again and invoked her wings. No one there besides Najud and Munraz had seen that before. Even Tun Jeju had never known exactly how she and Najud had escaped the Voice in Neshilik. There was more noise behind her than in front, but she ignored it and walked the full length of the cells, keeping enough distance from the prisoners that their chains didn’t cause pain.
“I was lucky—I was recognized for a wizard and trained as one, and I’ve been working as one ever since. Kigali wants to start doing the same with its own wizards, and with all of you. Part of what I’m here to do is get you started.”
She released her wings and sat down, then leaned forward with her elbow on her knees. “But, you know, they’re scared of you. Those other two I told you about, they killed hundreds of people, and Yenit Ping is a big place. Any wizard can do a lot of damage, and we chained ones, once we’re trained, we’re stronger. Now, we don’t lock up a strong swordsman, just because he can kill people. We arrest him if he does it, but only afterward, not before, just in case. That’s what a civilized nation does.”
She glanced at them all significantly in their cells. “Not very civilized, is this?”
One more check of the mind-glows of the prisoners. Lots of anger, still, but tempered from the first meeting, and much less fear.
Strolling over the the entrance gate, she called, “I want the key to the cells. You can keep this gate locked.”
The startled guard on the other side looked to Gen Jongto for confirmation, and the man nodded. The key landed at Penrys’s feet with a clink.
“First step. Let’s at least get you a modest change of scenery.” She walked down the row. As she approached each cell door, the pressure of the chains on each other forced the prisoner back. There was a twinge when she got close enough to unlock the door, but nothing too bad. When the door swung open, she stepped back.
Only the Rasesni woman contested her approach. She was a bit older than Penrys, and stubborn. Penrys dangled the key from her hand and shrugged, and the woman retreated back to let her unlock the door.
She spared a moment to see how her other audience was reacting to this bit of theater. Ijumo was somewhat alarmed but hiding it. Chosmod and Mrigasba shared with Vylkar a professional interest. Najud and Munraz were wary, like Gen Jongto.
“Ugly stuff in those cells over there, but you have as much a right to see it as we did, yesterday. Go take a look, please. Then come on back.”
She walked back to the entrance gate. “Any way we can get five more chairs in here?”
Again the guard checked with Gen Jongto and got a nod. Penrys took the precaution of making sure none of the prisoners were near the entrance when it was unlocked and the extra chairs shoved in. She waved Najud and Munraz over to help her, and between them they hauled the chairs over to face Penrys’s, outside of the cells, and as closely spaced as she thought the chains would likely permit.
The prisoners slowly made their way back and took a seat. Their demeanor was sober, and Penrys scanned and saw they’d finally moved past anger, mostly, into dismay. Very suitable. Now maybe we can get cooperation.
“So. Imperial Security makes its apology on behalf of Kigali and now we have everyone’s attention. Time for some names.”
Penrys introduced each of the people with her, ending with her own. “And this is Najud, my husband. And our apprentice, Munraz. I’m going to be doing a quick introduction to wizardry, and we thought he could benefit, too.” She could feel the dirty look he gave her, and thought she caught amusement on the face of the Kigali man.
The young man who looked like her ethnic cousin spoke first. “They call me Dar Datsu. Where are you from?”
“Wish I knew,” she told him. “You and the other man, over there, and maybe that woman,” she hooked her thumb behind her, to the other cells, “you’re the only ones I’ve ever seen that seem like we belong together.”
The Kigali woman called herself Goi Ofa. The Rasesni woman hesitated, then announced, “Lai Tsumai. I didn’t pick it.”
The Ndant man stared at Ijumo in fascination. “Lir Pako. They were right, I do look like a Ndano.”
The Kigali man shrugged. “Tse Lorping. Hardly matters, I can always get another name. None of them are real.”
“Penrys is surely not my original name, either,” she said, “but my past is lost to me, as I assume yours is lost to you. I’ve found that my body remembers some things my mind has lost, however, so if you find that you have a hand for something—music, say, or a craft—it may be an echo of what’s gone.”
“Why does this notju want us to be stronger?” Lai Tsumai asked. “Wouldn’t that just make us more of a threat?”
Penrys could feel both her sneer and and the underlying fear that drove it. She glanced back at Gen Jongto to make sure he was listening.
“Because you may be dangerous if you get some basic training, but you’re even more dangerous if you don’t. You see, Imperial Security decided to look for you first, assuming it could look for regular wizards afterward. It didn’t realize—there are lots of wizards in Kigali, in hiding. And they must surely know about you. You haven’t been here all that long, but the other wizards… generations?”
That created havoc among the wizards behind her.
“You have no defenses, and you’re going to need them. That’s why the sudden training.”
Gen Jongto interrupted her. “How do you know this about the other wizards?”
Penrys turned her chair around and faced the six foreign wizards. “You’re not a wizard, Gen-chi, but the rest of you are. Come with me.”
She bespoke them all, even the prisoners. *If you can hear me, try to just follow.*
Pulling them behind her like so many fish on lines, she mind-scanned the building for the inner glow of wizards. *See the one on the ground level, and the other on the upper floor?*
Rather than getting sucked into the particulars, she continued out to the street and the surrounding blocks. There were several in the immediate area, and one group of four.
*I think these are chained ones, at a glance.* She zoomed in on two more standing together, with a stronger core.
*Why? Because they look like the five of you.* She swooped in to look at the prisoners.
*Or me.* She let them get a good look at the power and texture of her mind before she raised her shields again and isolated herself.
Vylkar shook his head and turned to Gen Jongto. “She’s right. You’ve got wizards all over, and two like these, probably watching the building because of them.” He pointed to the prisoners.
“But who’s in charge of them?” Gen Jongto said.
“Who, indeed?” Penrys laughed. “Want to bet it’s no one person, but a bunch of factions? Wizards have politics, too, just like everyone else.”
Vylkar and Chosmod both nodded ruefully.
“And these,” she turned to the seated prisoners. “Two of you were picked up here. I’m sure there’s at least one refuge in Yenit Ping, and maybe more.”
She raised her hand before Dar Datsu could sputter defiance. “I’m not asking you where it is. I can find it just by looking, once I start. And so can you and, more to the point, so can the other wizards. They’ve probably been watching you all for three years or more.”
“It’s not a matter for ‘control’ any more, Gen-chi. Imperial Security can’t control this. They’ve got to co-opt it somehow. And to do that, they’re going to need to meet the leaders, since leaders there must surely be.”
“My mandate is only for these prisoners,” Gen Jongto said.
“They’re not your problem, or at least, not yet,” Penrys said. “You’ve gotten a hold of a few young lions that you’re worried about taming before they finish growing, but you’re surrounded by packs of wolves that could overwhelm you now and are probably just realizing that they’re no longer invisible, at least not to the foreign wizards you’ve brought in. What are they going to do?”
She waved a hand at the rest of the wizards. “All the rest of these emissaries are concerned about any chained wizards that may be hidden in their own countries, and the whole general mystery of where they… we come from. But their ordinary wizards are already integrated into their societies.”
Chosmod said to Gen Jongto, “Tun Jeju may already understand this. Or not. But I agree with Penrys—that’s more urgent than these five here.”
Najud said, “And yet, these must be trained.”
Penrys nodded. “The whole lot of them. What about the ones in the refuge?”
She saw from their unshielded reactions that two of them were alarmed at the mention.
“You need shields, so badly. You’re an open book to another wizard right now, and that’s a very bad thing.”
She looked back at Gen Jongto. “Here’s my suggestion. We do some basic education this morning, and then meet with Tun-chi. I want to get training started in their refuge, wherever it is, as soon as possible so they’re no longer so vulnerable. And we need a way to identify and protect the new arrivals as they come in.
“For that to work, Tun Jeju will need to be comfortable with some sort of provisional freedom, a working arrangement, for all of them. I expect that will be this afternoon’s discussion, if it can be arranged.” She caught Gen Jongto’s eye, and he nodded.
She glanced back at the prisoners who were following the conversation intently as their fate was discussed. “Don’t expect a decision tonight,” she said. “You’ll be, um, guests here until this is settled. But I’ll be pushing to get you out of here and the situation, um, normalized.”
With a sigh, she turned to Najud. “This is going to require the basics. I know you’re better at that than I am—would you do the honors of getting them started?”
CHAPTER 11
In the end, Chosmod, Vylkar, and Najud each took a hand in impromptu lessons focused on shielding, and Penrys concentrated on testing the students.
They divided for the afternoon—Gen Jongto was swapped out for one of his colleagues to keep an eye on the proceedings, and he brought Penrys to Tun Jeju, alone.
The news had traveled ahead, of course. Tun Jeju’s only overt remark was, “Wings? And why are you only telling me now?”
“I thought I’d reached the limits of believability without that,” Penrys replied. “You were already strip-searching us for evidence of treason at the time, as you may recall.”
Tun Jeju made no reply.
> At the end of the afternoon’s heated discussion, Penrys had to be satisfied with provisional approval to move forward with her plan.
Gen Jongto had related his observations of the morning and seemed to have convinced Tun Jeju of the reality of the wizard population.
“You’re way behind on this, notju-chi,” she’d said. “By generations, I assume. However your wizards are organized, they’re out there. In their hundreds or thousands. They’ve managed to hide from you for a very long time.”
He’d listened in dismayed silence.
“They’ve infiltrated your organizations—they’re probably everywhere. But do they mean you any harm? Or are they more afraid of being found? Are some of them criminals? Undoubtedly. All of them? Unlikely. They must be policing their own members, or they wouldn’t have been able to stay hidden so long.
“How do they manage their affairs? What are their factions? Their goals? They must have planned for this day to happen eventually—what will they want? Your search for chained wizards would have been the trigger.”
She spared a thought for the five unprepared prisoners. “And speaking of them… They’re a potential threat, but I think they’re more likely to be a prize, for the regular wizards. They’ve been watching, they’re interested—what do they want with them? Do they all want the same thing?”
She took a deep breath. “You want to get communications going with all parties, as quickly as possible. Before things get completely out of hand.”
Tun Jeju held up a hand. “How?”
“Any wizard can find them, any of the foreigners you summoned. All you have to do is have them look for leaders.”
“You,” he said. “I want you to arrange it.”
Her stomach clenched. She’d expected this, had even sought it out.
“If I’m going to be stalking around the city with my chain out for everyone to see, stirring up this fire, I’m going to make myself bait for anyone who’s not happy with change. I’ll need a visible representative from you to make it clear it’s an official task, with the sanction of your office.”
