“What? Are you crazy? I’m not in contact with him!” Calen looked wildly around, hoping Thomil would step forward to calm down Brevera, but Thomil was standing back with Mettleson. He did not meet Calen’s eyes.
“You are a liar and a danger to the Magistratum,” Brevera said. “What were you hoping to gain with that stunt during your ceremony? Were you trying to assassinate the council masters? Or perhaps you were trying to kill me, to stop me from revealing your secrets?”
“Please,” Calen said, trying to speak slowly and carefully. “I swear to you, I didn’t do anything. You’re making a mistake.”
“I don’t believe you,” Brevera said.
Now Thomil spoke. “Brev. I think we should wait.”
“No,” Brevera said, not taking his eyes from Calen. “It’s too dangerous. He has already tried to escape once. Everything we saw is going to come to pass if we don’t stop him.”
“S-stop me from what?” Calen asked. “I told you, I’m not doing anything!”
“There are other ways,” Thomil said. “We should go to the council —”
“No!” Brevera turned and faced his colleague. “They will hesitate; they will debate; they will let Serek come up with some defense. Don’t you see? We must take responsibility. We are the only ones who realize the true danger.”
This was getting very scary.
There was a sudden knock at the door. The mages spun to face the source of the sound. Calen saw that Brevera had half started a spell but then released it. “Breakfast,” Brevera said, shaking his head. “I’ll get rid of them.” He started for the door, then stopped. “Watch him.”
Calen had been getting ready to run, but now Thomil and Mettleson came to stand between him and the door. He knew he would never get past them. But maybe he could still call for help —
The door opened, and Calen took a breath to start shouting, but suddenly Brevera was flying backward into the room. A blaze of purple and orange energy surrounded him. Thomil and Mettleson began to turn but froze before they could move more than a few inches. Bewildered, Calen looked up to see Serek standing in the doorway. Mage Anders peered in from behind him.
“Good morning,” Serek said to Mage Brevera, who was still on the floor — pinned there magically by Serek, Calen could see. The other two were being held still by Anders, who nodded cheerfully to Calen when he noticed him staring. Brevera looked like he was trying to say something in response, but Serek’s spell prevented him.
“I’ve come to retrieve my apprentice,” Serek went on conversationally. “I think you have had him long enough.” He looked at Calen. “Are you all right?”
Calen nodded, still too stunned to speak. He got up and walked toward the door. He rather felt like he was dreaming. Serek and Anders both shifted out of the way to let him pass. Once he was through, he turned around to see what else was going to happen.
Serek and Anders seemed to be wrapping the other mages in bands of magical energy, literally tying them in place and stopping them from moving or speaking or, Calen assumed, casting. Serek went on talking as though nothing unusual was going on.
“I appreciate your efforts on behalf of the Magistratum,” he said to Brevera, who looked nearly insane with rage. “But I’m afraid I have run out of patience, and it’s time my apprentice and I were leaving. I’m not sure what you told Galida and Renaldiere to make them support your actions, but I’ve decided not to comply with their recommendation of cooperation. Good-bye, Brevera.” He nodded at the other mages in turn. “Thomil, Mettleson.”
Then Serek stepped back and closed the door firmly. Anders cast another spell at the door itself — a multicolored affair that Calen was too shaken to try to figure out right at the moment. Serek took Calen’s arm and walked him swiftly down the corridor.
“Where —?” Calen began.
“Not now,” Serek said, his conversational tone abruptly gone. “We’ve got to hurry. Anders has bought us a little time, but it still might not be enough. We’re, ah, leaving against the recommendation of the council. Which is not a matter to be taken lightly, but I’m afraid it was the best choice under the circumstances. I’ll explain later. For now, just try to keep up.”
Calen nodded and tried to obey. He looked back to see Anders hurrying along behind them.
MEG FOUND TESSEL IN THE KITCHEN, sitting at one of the long tables with a bowl of stew. The courier looked tired. Meg hesitated in the doorway but then pressed forward. She needed to ask about Lourin. There had to be something more, something to help prove that Jakl wasn’t involved.
“Tessel?”
The young woman looked up, surprised. “Yes, Princess?”
“Can I ask you some more about your message? About what you saw in Lourin?”
“Of course,” Tessel said. She set down her spoon. “What do you want to know?”
Meg sat down across from her. Tessel was a few years older than she was, maybe about Maerlie’s age. Her long, brown hair was tied back in a hasty-looking knot, still messy and windblown from her recent journey.
“I wanted to know . . .” What did she want to know? Meg sighed, feeling defeated before she had even begun. “I know my dragon has not been attacking Lourin,” she said. “I know this, but I can also see why King Gerald would think otherwise. I need to find a way to prove Jakl is innocent.”
Tessel touched the stem of her spoon but didn’t pick it up again. “I’m not sure how I can help, Princess.”
“I’m not sure, either,” Meg said. “I’m sure you told my parents everything you know already. I don’t know what else to ask you. But there must be something. Did you see the scorched ground and fire damage yourself?”
“Yes.”
“And . . . the people who were killed. Is it certain they died from burning?”
“Yes, Princess. I saw them — the bodies — with my own eyes. They were burned, all right. Witnesses said they saw a flash in the darkness, a stream of fire coming from a source they could not see. Everyone agreed it was no natural flame, no cooking fire or house fire gone out of control or anything of the sort.”
“Wait — a source they couldn’t see? So no one is claiming to have actually seen the dragon?”
“No, they do claim to have seen him,” Tessel said. “Or to have seen a dragon, at any rate. Just not specifically when they saw the fire. But several people said they saw a dragon fly across the sky.”
Could there be another dragon out there? It wasn’t impossible. Jakl had come from somewhere, after all. Maybe he had brothers and sisters. Or parents. Or cousins or something. But even if that were the case, how could she prove it?
“Did any of them get a close look at it? Did they mention how big it was, or what color?”
Tessel shook her head. “No, Princess. I think they saw it only at a distance. Except perhaps, um . . . those who were killed.”
Meg pushed away another thought of Jakl’s struggle to contain his fire that afternoon. She didn’t know what she was trying to accomplish here. She should let Tessel have her meal and rest. She stood up.
“Thank you, Tessel. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
Tessel shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
Meg turned and left the kitchen, not sure exactly where she wanted to go. Jakl floated at the edge of her consciousness, gently pulling at her, but she didn’t think she should go to him. He had to get used to spending some time apart from her. Otherwise he would only get more impatient whenever she couldn’t be there when he wanted her.
She didn’t think it was good for her, either, to go to him whenever she wanted to. It was so easy to get lost in their time together, and she was afraid that it would get harder and harder to come back. Especially when she had such difficult and complicated situations to come back to. She didn’t want to have to worry about Lourin and King Gerald. She didn’t want to have to check in with Wilem every day. She didn’t want to worry about Sen Eva and that portal mage person and every other t
errible danger that hovered constantly on the horizon.
Meg heard the whiny edge to her thoughts and felt instantly disgusted with herself. Too bad, she thought firmly. If you’re going to be the princess-heir, it’s your job to worry about these things. Stop being such a baby. She felt like rapping her knuckles with a stick the way Nan Vera used to whenever any of her charges sufficiently annoyed her. Meg had always deeply resented the knuckle rapping, but she was beginning to understand the impulse. Gods, she was irritating when she whined. Even just inside her own head. And it certainly wasn’t very princess-like.
All right then, she said to herself. What can you do? Other than whining and worrying, that is. What can you do?
There was nothing she could do about Wilem at the moment; she’d already talked to him today. She didn’t have to make herself deal with him again until tomorrow. And they didn’t know yet what Sen Eva might be up to, and so taking action wasn’t really possible. That left the situation in Lourin. What could she do about that?
You can find a way to prove Jakl is innocent.
Well, yes, sure, all right. But how? Tessel had already told everything she knew. The only way Meg could find out anything more would be to go to Lourin herself.
She stopped in the hallway, not seeing the walls around her or the servants crossing the corridor where it met the main hall up ahead or anything else.
But . . . she couldn’t, could she? Wouldn’t someone try to stop her?
Not if she didn’t tell them she was going.
Meg grinned in a way that felt decidedly wicked. And wonderful. She knew how that worked, after all. It wasn’t like she didn’t have lots of experience sneaking off on her own. Maybe it was different now that she was going to be the princess-heir . . . but if she didn’t make it plain to everyone that Jakl was innocent, she wouldn’t ever get to be the heir. Lourin would want revenge upon the creature they thought was responsible for those attacks. If her parents didn’t turn Jakl over to them, there could be a war. Meg couldn’t let Jakl be punished, of course. But she couldn’t let there be a war over him, either. Jakl would have to be sent away, for his own safety, for the safety of the kingdom. And if that happened, Meg would go with him. She wouldn’t have any choice. They’d be exiles, cut off from her family and her home. Forever.
So she would just have to stop it from coming to that.
She turned around and started back down the hall, still not really seeing anything around her, trusting everyone to get out of her way as she walked faster and faster and then gave in and started running. She reached the kitchen just as Tessel was leaving, no doubt about to get some well-deserved rest. Well, she could wait a few more minutes. Meg grabbed the startled young woman’s arm.
“Princess? What is it?”
“Walk with me,” Meg said, whirling around toward the kitchen entrance and pulling the confused courier along with her. “I’m sorry, I know you’re tired, but I need to ask you a few more things.”
“What — what things?”
“In private,” Meg said firmly. She didn’t say another word until they were through the doors and a good distance away from the castle. She forced herself to slow down. To anyone watching, it would seem they were simply having a stroll in the gardens. It was a nice enough evening for walking; it shouldn’t seem too odd.
“I need to know . . .” Meg began finally. And stopped. She tried to think of how to ask what she needed to without giving herself away. Then she decided it didn’t matter. She would just order Tessel to keep quiet. “All right. Listen. I’m going to Lourin myself to see what I can find out. I need you to go over your information for me once more, everything they showed you, and tell me where exactly to look for the scorch marks and — and the other things they are considering to be evidence. If you can, maybe you could sketch me a little map of the city and show me where to go.”
Tessel was staring at her in horror. “Princess, you can’t go to Lourin!”
“Of course I can,” Meg said calmly. “I just need you to tell me what I need to know, first.”
Tessel was still staring. “You can’t — I mean, I can’t . . .” She took a breath and started again. “If something happens to you, because of information I gave you . . . Lourin is not a good place for the heir of Trelian right now. People there are very angry. If they caught you, it would — it would be very bad.”
“They won’t catch me. I’ll have Jakl with me.”
“What? No! Princess!” Tessel struggled visibly to control her words and tone. “You can’t bring your dragon there! That would be —” She floundered for a moment, then seemed to find some inner resolve. “It would be madness. You would only be proving to them what they already think is true!”
“I won’t let Jakl be seen. I’ll have him wait for me somewhere out of sight.”
Tessel crossed her arms. “Then how will he protect you?”
That was a good point. But Meg waved it away. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll figure something out. All I need from you is information.”
Tessel shook her head. “I am sorry, Your Highness, but I can’t let you do this. You can go ahead and report me to the king and queen, if you like, for my disobedience. But somehow I don’t think they would see fit to punish me for not helping you run off and get yourself killed.”
Meg felt an all-too-familiar spark of anger beginning to form inside her.
“Tessel, listen to me. This is something I have to do. I cannot explain all of the reasons to you. But either I go with your information to guide me or I go without that information. Given those two choices, do you think you can bring yourself to do as I ask?”
“Princess, please. Be reasonable. You can’t —”
“Either help me or send me off without any help at all. It’s your choice.”
Tessel hesitated, frowning deeply. “There is — there is a third choice, Your Highness.” She took a slow breath, as if to put off her next words for a few more precious seconds. “I could go with you.”
Now it was Meg’s turn to be shocked. “What?”
“At least that way I wouldn’t be sending you into danger alone. Maybe I could help you to not get killed if you are discovered.” Tessel tilted her head back over her shoulder toward the sheath slung across her back. It was empty now, while she was in the castle, of course, but all couriers carried either swords or bows while out on assignments, and all were given basic combat training. They were supposed to be protected by law and custom, but there were plenty of criminals who didn’t care about law and custom. And a lone rider might seem an easy target for robbery, or worse.
“Tessel, I appreciate your offer,” Meg said. “But that is out of the question.”
Tessel drew herself up and looked at Meg straight on. “I’m coming with you, Princess. I don’t want to, believe me. But you’re not leaving me any other choice. If I let you go alone, and something happens . . . Well, at least if I’m there, if something happens, I won’t have to face the king and queen alone after you die.”
Meg started to object again, but Tessel cut her off. “If you refuse, I will start screaming for the guards right now. I bet they’ll be able to stop you before you reach your dragon.”
The spark of anger was growing into a twisty, burning flame. Meg could feel its tendrils working their way up and into her veins, heating her blood. Who was this girl to think she could try to tell her what to do? Yes, she was older, but she was a courier, sworn to serve, not someone who should dare to make demands of the princess-heir. Tessel knew it, too; a glimmer of fear was plain despite her resolve.
That fear seemed to grow as Meg watched, and she realized that her own face must also be betraying what she was feeling. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe, in and out, slowly, in the way Calen had taught her. She wouldn’t be this angry if it were Calen telling her not to go. A little angry, maybe, but Calen had earned the right to at least try to boss her around. He was her best friend, and he’d saved her life enough times to be abl
e to tell her anything he chose. This girl, this courier, was no one to her; she had no right to try to, to try to —
To try to stop you from getting yourself killed?
Meg pushed that thought away. She had to go to Lourin. It would be far worse to do nothing and let Jakl become the center of a war between the kingdoms! She knew this was the right course of action. It had to be.
Maybe taking Tessel with her was actually a good idea. She could show Meg exactly where the attacks had occurred, show her this supposed evidence . . . and keeping the courier close would mean she couldn’t betray Meg to her parents.
“All right,” Meg said finally, opening her eyes. “You can come with me. Do you know where my dragon’s paddock is?” She waited for Tessel’s nod. “Meet me there at twelfth bell. Don’t be late, or I’m going without you. And Tessel —” She held the courier’s eyes for a long moment. “Don’t say anything about this to anyone. Swear to me that you won’t.”
“I won’t,” Tessel said. “I swear it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless you go without me, in which case I’ll go right to the king and queen.”
“Just be there,” Meg said. Then she turned and started back toward the castle to get ready for dinner and to pretend she had no other plans for the night.
IT HAD TAKEN TWO TRIES TO slip out without alerting Pela. The first time Meg opened her door, Pela immediately peeked out of her own to see what her princess might need, and Meg had to let the girl fetch her a snack from the kitchen before she could try again. At least Pela hadn’t asked any difficult questions about Meg’s unprincess-like attire. Dresses were uncomfortable to ride in and tended to get dirty and torn. Meg kept a supply of breeches and boots and old shirts and jackets to wear for dragon riding, none of which would ever meet Pela’s standards of what her princess should be seen wearing. Meg had tried to keep most of her body hidden behind her door until Pela went back into her own room. Not for the first time, she wished she had that magic spell of Calen’s that made him invisible. The whole way through the castle, from her rooms to the garden entrance, she kept expecting Pela to pop up behind her, demanding to be helpful. She’d never had trouble slipping out past Pela before; Meg wondered if her parents had asked the girl to keep a closer eye on her. Probably.
The Princess of Trelian Page 10
