The Princess of Trelian

by Michelle Knudsen

  She nodded understanding, and then Anders touched her forehead, and then everyone was gone. Or maybe she was gone. At some point, she became aware that she was dreaming again. Fear seized her instantly, and she struggled not to panic. It won’t be like the last one, she told herself. Calen and the others are here with you, even if you can’t see them. They won’t let anything bad happen.

  Still, she felt the familiar confused sense of fear. She was in the forest again, and lost again, and she could feel Jakl growing confused and afraid along with her. It’s all right, she thought at him. Just hold on. She didn’t know whether to reach for him or not. She should have asked Calen. Before she could decide, she felt Jakl reaching for her instead. She could feel him wanting to be as connected as possible. He didn’t feel angry, not yet. Just frightened.

  And then she felt something else, a shadowy thing coming at her out of the darkness. Jakl screamed in recognition, and she realized this must be Sen Eva’s presence. She’d never seen it approaching before; it had always just been there, as soon as she was sleeping. Maybe Sen Eva had not expected her to go back to sleep again so soon. Meg tried to run from the shadow, but there was no place to run here. She felt Jakl latch on to her tightly, and she did the same to him. I won’t let go, she promised. But even as she said that, she felt something changing, felt her sense of him growing fainter. No, no! she cried out, or tried to, but she couldn’t seem to speak or move or do anything to stop what was happening. She felt anger blossoming inside her again, but she didn’t know if it was the dream or just her own real anger at Sen Eva for what she was doing to them. She clutched desperately at Jakl through the link; she could feel that he was terrified, but he kept slipping further away, even as the terror seemed to start shifting into something else.

  And then suddenly something else was there, something bright and not-shadow, and it pushed at the darkness, forcing it back. The shadow’s hold on them loosened, and she felt Jakl’s presence flow back through to her in a wave of emotion, confused and angry but not yet out of control. The brightness seemed to move around her, leaving a trail of comfort and protection until she was surrounded by what felt like a wall of safety. The link flowed freely through that wall, but somehow she knew that nothing else would be able to penetrate it.

  And then she was awake, staring up at a trio of concerned faces.

  “Did it work?” she asked. “Was that you, Calen? The brightness? It was, wasn’t it?”

  “Brightness?” he asked, moving back and helping her sit up. “What did you see?”

  “I could see Sen Eva coming at us, or what I assume was her,” Meg said. “A dark shadow. And then there was something else, this brightness, and it made a wall that kept her out and away from us.” She could feel Jakl’s relief underscoring her own. He felt protected now, too.

  “Huh,” Calen said. “Yeah, I guess that was me. Well, us. I didn’t know you’d be able to see us at all.”

  “Fascinating!” Anders said, shaking his head in wonder. He was already headed toward Serek’s desk — looking for something to take notes on, Meg supposed. Her father stepped over from where he’d been standing, back out of the way. He looked back and forth between her and Serek.

  “Did it work, then?” he asked. “Will that stop — stop whatever was happening?”

  “Yes, I think so,” Serek said. “Although obviously you should let us know, Meg, if you feel anything out of the ordinary the next time you go to sleep.”

  “I will,” she promised. She thought she might even be able to let herself try to sleep again tonight. Seeing that brightness, she felt safer than she’d expected to. She looked at Calen and was pleased to see that he looked rather proud of himself.

  “Thank you,” she told him seriously.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, smiling.

  “Yes, well done, Calen,” Serek said. Meg caught Calen’s eyes widening at the praise, although he tried to hide it. She knew Serek rarely said anything so directly positive to his apprentice.

  “Well,” the king said. “If we’re finished here for now, I think we should go upstairs and let your mother and Maurel know everything is all right. I suspect they are both waiting up for us, worried.”

  “Oh, Pela, too, most likely,” Meg said, feeling guilty. For once, she wasn’t at all sorry that Pela’s room was so close to her own. Pela had been frightened, but not at all hysterical or useless. She’d been swift in running to get Calen when Meg told her to, without hesitating or asking pointless questions. She’d said she’d wanted to be helpful. Meg had to admit Pela was doing a good job of proving just how helpful she could be.

  Calen stepped ahead to open the door for the king, and Meg followed her father into the hallway. She looked back and gave Calen one more grateful smile before they turned the corner and were out of sight.

  “WELL,” ANDERS SAID ONCE MEG AND her father had left, “never a dull moment in Trelian, eh?”

  “Why is Sen Eva doing all of this?” Calen asked. “I mean, I understand that she’s trying to start that war for Mage Krelig. But why send nightmares to her own son? And why is she trying to — to do whatever she was trying to do to Meg’s link with Jakl?”

  Serek sat on the edge of his desk. “There’s a lot we don’t know yet,” he said. “It’s possible she’s just trying to stir up as much confusion and trouble as she can. She may be trying to get revenge through Wilem, trying to compel him to attack those here in the castle whom she holds responsible for unraveling her scheme last time around. And Wilem himself seemed to think she was trying to get him to escape and join her. As for Meg . . . perhaps the more erratic the dragon’s behavior, the more likely Lourin will believe he is responsible for the attacks against them. Or that might be about revenge also; she might be trying to punish Meg for her part in what happened. Or there could be some completely different reason we’re not even considering.”

  “So then what do we do?” Calen hated how their enemies always seemed one step ahead. Why did the bad guys seem to have plans and courses of action all laid out, while the rest of them were just stumbling around, trying to keep up?

  Serek and Anders exchanged another of those irritating glances. “Maybe you should try to go get some rest, Calen,” Serek said.

  “No,” Calen said. “I don’t want to go get some rest. I want to know what’s going on. I want to help figure it out.”

  “Calen,” Serek began in a slightly dangerous tone.

  “You let me help with the dream magic, didn’t you? And I did, I helped. You even said I knew more about the link than anyone, and I was the best one to do the spell. Why won’t you let me keep helping? How can I prove —?” He heard his voice getting louder and tried to lower it again. Which was hard because they were making him so mad.

  He looked back and forth between the two mages. “Isn’t it supposed to mean something that I got my first true mark? You’re acting like nothing has changed at all.”

  “I have already explained that we cannot risk —”

  “I’m not going to betray anyone!” Calen shouted. “Why won’t you believe me?”

  “I do believe you,” Serek said. “Which is why I don’t know how to interpret the signs we have been seeing. Mage Brevera and his friends believed you were already in league with Mage Krelig in some way. I know that you are not. But I cannot guarantee that you will not be in the future. I don’t believe for a second that you would willingly betray the Magistratum, but I have no proof to offer in defense of that certainty.”

  “But —”

  “But,” Serek went on, “there is still a chance that something will happen to change things. Maybe you will end up involved with Mage Krelig in some other way, through some accident, some strange chance . . . in which case any knowledge you had about our plans to fight him could be dangerous.”

  Calen just stared at him.

  “It’s nothing personal,” Anders said brightly. “Just taking precautions. You understand.”

  “No,” Calen said.
“I do not understand. I would never, never —”

  “Think about it this way,” Serek said. “Wilem probably never thought he would be involved with a villain the way he was. But someone he trusted lied to him and coerced him into actions he didn’t fully understand.”

  “I am nothing like Wilem!” He didn’t like the way Serek’s words echoed Meg’s own thoughts about Wilem’s behavior. “I don’t care what his reasons were. He still knew he was going to kill an innocent person. Do you really think I am capable of something like that?”

  “I think,” Serek said, “that none of us truly know what we are capable of in any given situation until we are in it. Certainly I would not think, right now, that you would kill someone. But given the right motivation . . .” Serek sighed. “I’m not explaining this well, I’m afraid. No one is calling you a potential murderer, Calen. And I do not believe you have any ill intentions. But if there is any chance that you will be placed in a position where your knowledge of our plans could be used against us, then I must take suitable precautions.”

  Calen didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say. He was still trying to come up with a response when there was a knock at the door.

  “Now what?” Serek muttered as he went to answer it. A castle guard stood there, looking apologetic and nervous. He murmured something Calen didn’t hear.

  “What?” Serek exclaimed.

  The guard started to speak again, probably to repeat himself, but Serek cut him off with an impatient wave of his hand. “Yes, all right, I understand. You can send them here, yes.” He closed the door as the guard hurried away.

  “Trouble?” Anders asked.

  “Probably,” Serek said. “Five mages, demanding to see me but insisting they are not here to arrest us.”

  Anders cocked his head, considering. “Five of them together probably could have forced their way past the guards if they’d wanted to,” he said.

  “That was my thought, too,” Serek said.

  “What do you think they want?” Calen asked. “Or are you afraid to tell me?”

  Serek gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t be difficult about this, Calen. Things are difficult enough already.”

  Which didn’t actually answer the question, Calen couldn’t help but notice.

  A minute later they could hear voices in the hallway, and then the door swung open. “Your . . . uh . . . guests, Mage Serek,” the guard announced. He gave a quick bow and hurried away.

  Five mages walked in through the open door. Their faces were all moderately to heavily marked, and their expressions were serious. Calen didn’t recognize any of them.

  “So,” Serek said. He nodded to two of the men. “Edgard, Porlin. I don’t believe I know the rest of you. Welcome to Trelian. Are you really not here to arrest us, or was that just a lie to get past the guards without causing a scene?”

  “It’s the truth,” the one Serek had called Edgard said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. We’re here to join you.”

  For the first time in possibly ever, or at least as far as Calen could remember, Serek was momentarily speechless.

  “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “You’ve quite lost me. Join me in what, exactly?”

  “Join your faction,” one of the other mages answered. He offered his hand. “I’m Charlack, by the way.”

  At Serek’s continued blank stare, the first mage spoke again. “I see that you are perhaps not aware of the events that have taken place at the Magistratum since your departure.”

  “You cannot possibly have come from the Magistratum since we left,” Anders said suspiciously.

  “No,” the other mage Serek had recognized — Porlin — said. “We were not there. We received messages from colleagues regarding the situation, and made our decisions accordingly. We are the first to arrive only because we happened to be closest; more will follow, over time, as quickly as they can.”

  “More!” Serek looked utterly bewildered. “You must explain yourself. Right now.”

  Porlin nodded and began, “The mages have become . . . divided. There are some who now believe that you and Mage Anders and your apprentice are all in league with Mage Krelig and are plotting to aid in his return. There are others who believe that you were simply misguided in your attempt to release your apprentice from Mage Brevera’s detainment, and who expect you to return once you receive assurance that Mage Brevera won’t carry through his plans to, uh . . .” He hesitated, seeming to notice Calen for the first time. “To . . . neutralize him via possibly overaggressive means,” he finished somewhat awkwardly.

  “What does that mean?” Calen demanded.

  “Quiet,” Serek said. “And yourselves?”

  “We believe you are best suited to lead the efforts to prevent Mage Krelig’s return and to capture or kill him if he does manage to come back.”

  “What?” Serek asked. “That’s — that’s out of the question. I’m not leading anything. I’m certainly not participating in some kind of uprising against the council, if that’s what this is. Where do they stand on all of this?”

  “They are still trying to maintain some kind of order,” Edgard said, “but more and more mages are declaring their intentions to join one or another faction despite that.”

  “We are also of the belief that your apprentice might be the key in bringing down Mage Krelig, rather than Krelig’s ally against us,” one of the other mages added.

  Suddenly Calen liked these mages a lot more. Not everyone thought he was the enemy, at least.

  Serek ran a hand through his hair. He seemed as out of sorts as Calen had ever seen him. “Are you really standing there calmly informing me that the Magistratum is dissolving as we speak?” Serek asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Edgard said, at the same time that Charlack said, “Yes.”

  Edgard looked at Charlack and sighed. “Not necessarily,” he said again, a little louder. “At least some of us believe we can convince the council to support our side, in which case we could try to win back some of the other mages and reclaim a majority. After that, even those who don’t agree might be more likely to return to the fold.”

  “All right. Just — just hold on,” Serek managed. “We need to sit down and discuss this and stop it before things get entirely out of hand.”

  “Sounds like it’s a little late for that,” Anders said.

  Serek ignored him. “There’s a meeting room on the second floor that can hold all of us,” he said. He turned to Calen. “You stay here.”

  “What? No —”

  “Calen!” He was practically growling. “Do not test me on this. Trust me that I’m trying to do everything that I can to protect Trelian and the Magistratum.”

  When Calen opened his mouth to object further, Serek cut him off. “Or don’t trust me, curse you, but obey me anyway. Once we are past this crisis, we can go back to full training. For now I have to keep you ignorant of certain things. That’s just how it must be.”

  With that, Serek turned and led the other mages out and down the hall. Anders paused before following them. “I know it’s frustrating to be kept in the dark,” he said. “But Serek really is doing what’s best. Try to accept it, eh?”

  He clapped Calen on the shoulder and went out after the others.

  Calen stared after them. How did Serek expect him to just sit here after hearing that the Magistratum was coming apart and Calen himself was part of the reason for it? Maybe the whole reason. Could this be the danger everyone had been worried about? Only that would mean that the trouble was caused by the warning that there would be trouble. He supposed prophecies could work that way, but he still doubted this was really what everyone was so afraid of. Not that it wasn’t terrible that the mages were taking sides against one another, but surely the real danger had to do with Mage Krelig. Everything kept coming back to that.

  He started pacing, trying to think. And almost immediately tripped over something and went sprawling. A yowl followed by a painful swipe of claws re
vealed the something in question to be Serek’s gods-cursed gyrcat.

  “Argh!” Calen shouted, grabbing for the hateful creature. But Lyrimon had already faded back into near invisibility, blending in and becoming less there than whatever was around him. Which was why Calen never saw him until it was too late. Gods, but he hated that stupid cat!

  At least now he knew enough about healing to be able to do something about the cuts. He caressed his aching calf with soft golden energy, adding a bit of blue to ease the sting. He glanced around, still trying to see where Lyrimon had gone. He thought longingly for a moment of casting something to make the cat visible against its will, like whatever Serek and Council Master Renaldiere had cast to reveal those magic-creatures, but it wasn’t really the same situation. Lyrimon was a real animal, flesh and blood, that had the ability to blend and fade. There was probably still something Calen could figure out to counteract the cat’s ability; he was sure that if he spent enough time thinking about it . . . but Serek probably wouldn’t like it. And now didn’t seem like the best time to make Serek angry. Angrier.

  Calen’s eye fell on Serek’s desk. In the top drawer, he knew, was Serek’s set of spirit cards.

  Maybe if Serek wasn’t going to tell him anything, he should try to find something out for himself.

  The idea of doing something made him feel infinitely better. He hated just waiting here in ignorance. Surely it couldn’t really hurt to see what he could find out. Serek had taught him more about divination since his first use of the cards, back when he’d first met Meg. And Serek was always saying that Calen had a real talent for divination. Of course, he was also always saying that divination was difficult and unreliable, along with a whole bunch of other warnings, but still, it wasn’t like Calen had to act on whatever he saw. He just wanted to get a better sense of what was happening, what kind of danger he was supposedly so involved in. Maybe if he knew more about it, he could avoid doing whatever terrible thing everyone was so afraid he would do.

  He glanced at the door. Serek and the others would be gone for a long time. He certainly had time to do at least one quick reading of the cards.