“I know that,” Meg said, trying to stay calm, trying to ignore the “if” in her mother’s last statement. “I just —” No. No. No arguments. She had to show them that she could do this. She took another deep breath. “All right. Of course, if that’s what we need to do. I’ll try to make Jakl understand.”
Her father sat back in his chair. “Well . . . good. Thank you, Meg.” The relieved glance that passed between her parents was irritating but, she supposed, not undeserved.
“With the Lady’s blessing, we will have this sorted out soon,” her mother added. “It’s only temporary, Meg.”
Meg nodded and rose to leave, trying to focus on feeling glad to have pleased her parents rather than on the heaviness in her heart. Jakl wouldn’t really understand, and he would not be happy.
She went out through the gardens, past the neatly manicured shrubs and delicate trees and then to the outer ward and the path to Jakl’s paddock. He was out in his field, waiting for her.
She could feel his inquiry, wondering what was wrong. Underneath she could feel his desire to take her flying. It made her want to weep.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “We won’t be able to go flying for a while.” She pressed her face against his warm scales. “We have to stay here. Both of us. Because of . . . because of that nonsense happening in Lourin. It’s not fair, but we have to. Do you understand?” She tried to send him images from her mind, visions of them here together, not being miserable.
“It won’t be so bad, really,” she said, trying to convince them both. “At least we’ll be together. And it’s only for a little while.”
Please let it only be for a little while.
A flicker of his attention through the link made her turn to see what he was seeing. Maurel was standing a few yards behind her, rocking slightly on her feet in the tall grass.
“Hi, Meg,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Meg said, sighing. “Nothing at all.”
Maurel came the rest of the way over and reached out to pet Jakl’s nose. He bent to make it easier for her to reach. “Are you going to go for a ride?” Maurel asked hopefully.
“No,” Meg said. “We’re not — we’re not allowed.”
Maurel stopped petting and looked up at her. “Did you get in trouble?”
“Not exactly.” Meg didn’t know how much to explain. “Do you know about what’s going on with Lourin?”
“That they’re mad at us? Yeah, I know that. But it’s dumb. We didn’t do anything to them, did we?”
“No, we didn’t. But they think we did. And they think Jakl in particular did some very bad things. So until Mother and Father can work everything out with King Gerald, Jakl and I aren’t allowed to go flying.”
“Oh,” Maurel said solemnly, taking this in. “I’m sorry. I know you like flying.”
“Thanks, Maurel. I’m sorry, too.”
Meg sat in the grass and leaned back against the dragon. After a moment, Maurel sat beside her.
“Is it hard, having a dragon?” she asked after a while.
Meg looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Maurel shrugged and plucked a piece of grass to play with. “I don’t know. You don’t always seem very happy, since Jakl came. You get angry a lot.”
Meg thought about how to answer that one. “Well, it’s complicated sometimes,” she said finally. “But mostly I really like having a dragon. I know that I’ve been angry a lot lately, but some of that — some of that was . . .” Meg was again unsure how much to say. She didn’t want to upset her sister unnecessarily. “Some of that was because I was having bad nightmares. They made me feel very angry even when I didn’t have any reason to be. It wasn’t real, but I didn’t know that.”
“Was Jakl having them, too? Is that why he was so angry last night?”
The queen had already put Maurel back to bed by the time Meg and her father had finally gotten back upstairs last night. She had thought her parents would have explained things to her this morning, but maybe they hadn’t. Or maybe Maurel just needed to hear it again. From Meg. She probably suspected by now that grown-ups didn’t always tell her the full truth about everything.
“Yes,” Meg said seriously. “That’s exactly what happened. But we fixed that. Calen and Mage Serek did some magic to protect us from the nightmares. So it won’t happen again, okay?”
Maurel nodded. “Okay.”
They sat quietly for a bit, Maurel twisting pieces of grass into a chain, Meg just sitting and thinking. After a while Meg asked, “Do you wish I didn’t have Jakl?”
Maurel didn’t answer right away. “No,” she said finally. “I like him. And I know you like him. But . . .”
“But what?”
Maurel looked up from her grass twisting. “But you’re different now. Sometimes I wish you could have stayed the same.”
Meg reached over and pulled Maurel close to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “Sometimes I wish that, too,” she whispered.
They both got quiet again after that. Meg leaned back and closed her eyes. She wondered what Calen was doing, and if he was still mad at her. Then she decided she didn’t want to think about that. She would just sit here in the sun with her dragon and her sister and not think about anything unpleasant for a little while.
“Meg?”
“Hmm?”
“If I found a dragon, would it make me different, too?”
“Probably,” Meg said, her eyes still closed. The sun was warm and soothing on her face. “But I thought you wanted to have a link with Lyrimon.”
“That’s just pretend,” Maurel said, a little reproachfully. “I want to have a link for real. Plus Lyrimon can’t fly.”
“That’s true,” Meg agreed. “Also, he is very grouchy.”
“If I had my own dragon,” Maurel went on, “he could be friends with Jakl, and we could all go flying together.”
“That sounds nice,” Meg said. “Jakl would probably like to have a friend.”
“Maybe there’s still other baby dragons in the woods somewhere. Jakl’s probably not the only one.”
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t get your hopes up, sweetie. Dragons are very rare these days, remember?”
“But rare doesn’t mean just one,” Maurel said. “Jakl must have had a mommy and daddy, right? Maybe he had brothers and sisters, too.”
Jakl was dozing, but Meg felt him stir sleepily at the idea of other dragons. Meg had never really wondered before if he might be lonely for others of his kind. It must be strange for him, to be all alone like he was. He had Meg, of course, but that wasn’t the same.
She tried to picture it: Jakl with other dragons around him, flying, playing — would they curl up to sleep together like giant, scaly kittens? The thought made her smile. It also made her feel a little . . . jealous? Jakl sent something warm and reassuring and slightly amused at her through the link. Which made her smile again.
She still wondered, though. She had human companionship in addition to her connection with Jakl. Those relationships were very important to her. Did Jakl wish for the companionship of other dragons as well?
MEG DIDN’T SEE CALEN FOR THE rest of the day. That wasn’t really so unusual — it wasn’t as if they spent every moment together, after all — but the argument they’d had made his absence feel conspicuous and significant.
Her thoughts of dragons in the paddock had dissolved into an unplanned but not entirely unwelcome nap. Maurel had wandered off by the time Meg had awakened, and Meg had gone back inside and tried to keep herself busy and distracted. But she still had spent most of the afternoon and evening wishing Calen would appear.
She refused to go seek him out herself, though. He was the one who had stormed off. It was up to him to come back to continue the conversation.
But he didn’t, and she woke up the next morning feeling both grumpy and sad.
At breakfast, her parents mentioned that Serek had some vistors: other mages who had come
to discuss important events at the Magistratum. Apparently they had arrived a couple of nights ago. Serek had come to see the king and queen yesterday evening to let them know and to alert them that more mages might be on the way. Maybe that’s what Calen had been coming to tell her about the day before. Before he’d gotten so angry about that misunderstanding with Wilem.
Meg seized upon this new information as a good excuse — a good reason — to go talk to Calen. If he wanted to bring up their argument, that would be his choice. Her only intention was to find out about Serek’s visitors. That was it.
She still didn’t understand why Calen had gotten so angry in the first place. She knew he didn’t trust Wilem, but she thought it was the hand holding — the hand touching — in particular that had set him off, not just the fact that she was considering Wilem’s offer to help them fight his mother. And that didn’t make any sense at all.
Calen was right about one thing, though. Meg was definitely finding it harder to hate Wilem.
She wanted to, but somehow she didn’t feel the hate burning inside her as she once had. She knew he could be lying to her, knew he could still be pretending . . . but she couldn’t believe that whole scene on the rooftop, when Sen Eva’s secrets had come spilling out and Wilem had been so shocked, so horrified. . . . Meg couldn’t believe that had all truly been just an act.
But if she didn’t hate him, that left . . . what? She couldn’t like him. It wasn’t as though they could be friends. So if they weren’t enemies, and they couldn’t be friends . . . she didn’t know what they were. She didn’t want them to be anything! But he was here, possibly for a long time to come. And she couldn’t just ignore him entirely, as much as she might want to.
Wilem had truly seemed sincere about wanting to help. But she knew she couldn’t really trust him.
She just wished he didn’t sometimes make her feel as though she could.
As Meg approached the mages’ chambers, she could hear voices coming from inside. Loud voices, and many of them.
She knocked, and after a moment, Calen opened the door.
They looked at each other, and Meg watched a series of emotions flash across Calen’s face: surprise, relief, anger . . . shame? She wondered what her own face looked like. The silence began to feel uncomfortable.
“I came to find out about the mages,” Meg said. “To ask you about them. My parents told me this morning that they were here.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Was that — was that what you came to tell me about yesterday?”
“Oh, uh . . .” He hesitated, then went on, “Yeah. That’s all. It wasn’t really that important. I knew you’d hear about them before long anyway.”
They fell silent again. Meg hated how awkward this felt. She just wanted things to be back to normal.
“So . . . what’s going on?” she asked when it seemed clear he wasn’t going to say anything else without prompting. “Why are they here?”
She peered past Calen into the room beyond. There were at least five strangers that she could see, all mages with various degrees of marking across their faces. They appeared to be having a fairly heated discussion with Serek and Anders.
Calen glanced over his shoulder and then slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. None of the men seemed to notice.
“They came two nights ago,” he said, leading her a little way down the hall so that the voices fell to muffled background noise behind them. “They’ve been arguing ever since.”
Meg couldn’t help it. She said, “Lots of that going around lately.”
Calen crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, looking at her. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess so.”
“Why —” Meg started after a moment, at the same time that Calen said, “I didn’t —”
They both stopped. Waited.
“Go ahead,” Meg said.
“I’m sorry I got so angry,” Calen said. “I didn’t mean to say those things to you. I just — I just want you to be careful. You’re not — you’re not always very careful, you know?”
Meg pursed her lips in annoyance, but he wasn’t really wrong, was he? “I suppose that’s fair,” she said. “But it really wasn’t what you thought, Calen. He took my hand, and for a second I was too startled to do anything, and that’s when you came in and saw . . . what you thought you saw.”
Calen looked like he was mulling over several responses. Finally he said, “But you can see, can’t you, that he’s trying to win back your trust? That he’s trying to — to get close to you again? Surely he could have told you he wanted to help us against Sen Eva without having to touch you.”
“Yes,” she said. “You’re right, of course.” She almost added that he was right about her not really hating Wilem anymore, too. But somehow that seemed like a bad idea, if she wanted them to get past this argument.
“I’ll be careful, Calen,” she said instead. “I promise.” He nodded, but he didn’t quite look at her. What did he want her to say? “I’m not — I’m not going to let him get close to me again.”
He looked up at that, but his eyes met hers for only a moment before sliding away. “Okay,” he said.
They stood there for a minute more, leaning against their opposite walls. The silence felt different this time, Meg thought. Less . . . hostile. But she still didn’t like it.
“So,” she said, trying to make her voice as normal as possible, “the mages?”
“Right,” Calen said, nodding and looking at her again. He took a breath. “Things have, um, apparently gone a little crazy at the Magistratum since we left.”
They went over to a little padded bench that sat tucked in a nook nearby. There was a tapestry across from it, showing some kind of battle scene. Meg looked at Calen instead.
He explained about the mages’ unexpected arrival and their alarming news. “The group that’s here now, they came here to join with Serek. They said others are on the way, too. They want him to organize a group of mages who are willing to go after Sen Eva and Mage Krelig right now.”
“But that’s wonderful!” Meg didn’t understand what the problem was. “Calen, I’m sure if enough mages went after her together, they would have no trouble overcoming her no matter how powerful she’s become. Gods, that’s exactly what we need! I thought the Magistratum would have gone after her right away, back when Serek first explained what was happening. I never understood why they weren’t doing anything.”
“It’s not that simple, Meg. If we do this, go after Sen Eva as a separate group, without the support of the council . . . it would be a very serious thing. The Magistratum was formed for a reason — to keep mages from running off and doing whatever they wanted all the time, from using their magic to achieve their own personal ends. If we break off from them . . . it could have very dangerous consequences. Maybe even worse than what’s happening now with Sen Eva.”
Meg was startled to realize that Calen actually looked a little frightened.
“It could be the end of the Magistratum, Meg. If mages start deciding to take matters into their own hands . . . we won’t be the only group to do so. If we start this, other groups will form, too. Groups with different ideas of what to do. Groups that might decide that we need to be stopped before we do the wrong thing.”
Meg stared at him. “Are you saying there could be a war among the mages?”
“Yes. Or at least, that seems to be what Serek is afraid of, and he knows a whole lot more about it than I do. If that happened . . . it would be terrible, Meg.” He got up, too agitated to sit still. “Do you know about the time from before the Magistratum was formed? It was like that all the time. Mages fighting each other, and everyone was afraid of them. . . . Whole kingdoms were destroyed! It would be really, really bad for that to start happening again.”
“What do you think Serek is going to do?” Meg asked.
“I don’t know. I think he’s going to try to wait, to petition the council to make a decision. If the council mas
ters would just decide something, maybe all the infighting would just stop.”
“If he does end up leading this group, what do you think they’ll do?”
“I have no idea.” He sounded suddenly bitter.
“What do you mean?”
He scowled and dropped back onto the bench, pushing his fist into the soft cushion beneath them. “It’s because of those signs I told you about — the ones that say I’m going to be involved with Mage Krelig in some way. Serek has decided that the less I know about their plans to fight him, the better. He won’t tell me anything now.”
“But — but that’s crazy! Do they really think you would help him? He’s terrible! Worse than Sen Eva!”
“Exactly. But apparently I’m just too great a risk. So I’m supposed to sit around being useless.” He looked at her, and for a moment, it seemed as though he were about to say something else, but he only shook his head.
The sound of running feet in the hallway made them both look up. It was Nan Vera, looking harried.
“What’s wrong, Nan Vera?” Meg asked.
“It’s Maurel, of course,” the older woman replied wearily. “She was supposed to come meet me before lunchtime and never showed up. I’ve given up on you appearing regularly at meals,” she said with a withering, squinty-eyed glance, “but Maurel has always been good about mealtimes, even when she’s off causing gods-know-what mischief before and after.”
“I’m sure she just lost track of the time,” Meg said. Although . . . it was true that Maurel tended to time her misbehavior not to conflict with meals. “I can help you look for her, if you like.”
“I’ll help, too,” Calen said. “Serek’s not going to miss me while he’s still arguing with the other mages.”
“Thank you both,” Nan Vera said. “I’m sure you’re right, that she’s only forgotten the time, but . . . well, with everything that’s been happening lately, I’ll just feel better when we know where she is.”
The Princess of Trelian Page 22
