The Princess of Trelian

by Michelle Knudsen

  He started walking again, considering. He could see the location from the map in his mind. It was more than a day’s fast ride, and he wasn’t all that fast a rider. He needed some other way to get there. He wished Serek and Anders hadn’t told him all that scary stuff about transporting. If he didn’t know how dangerous it was, maybe he wouldn’t be afraid to try it.

  Of course, that might have left him half-embedded in something by accident.

  If only there was a way to get around that problem. Why did it happen? It happened because people couldn’t see what was already in the spot they were transporting to. But if you could see where you going, and if you could be reasonably sure no one would walk into your path in the instant you traveled there . . .

  He went back to his room and sat on his bed. Serek had said not to experiment. And he’d never really shown Calen how to transport something. Calen had seen him do it once, though, when he’d moved Rorgson’s skull in his study. And Calen had done it himself that one time by accident, but he didn’t want to repeat that experience. There was also that issue of transporting people being forbidden by the Magistratum. But . . . Serek had said something about emergencies, and getting permission after the fact. Surely this counted as an emergency. Maurel’s life was in danger! And if he brought her back safely, would they really be able to punish him for it?

  He considered the plant guide on his bedside table. He knew that transporting used purple energy, which was about motion and change. He concentrated on the book and began to surround it with waves of pure violet, thinking about moving it just a few inches over on the table. He tried actually pushing at it with the magic, but that wasn’t right. He tried lifting, tried coaxing the magic to take the book apart and put it back together. (He was kind of relieved when that didn’t work.) He tried various approaches, forcing himself to keep going and not get discouraged or upset. He was like steel. Like stone. Focused on his task. It didn’t matter how long it took, or what else was going on elsewhere in the castle. He would figure this out eventually. He knew he could.

  And finally, he did. It was a matter of surrounding the book with energy, clearly envisioning it in the new location, and then a forceful kind of willing it to be there instead of where it currently existed. The book silently disappeared from one side of the table and instantly reappeared on the other.

  Calen reached over and picked it up. It seemed all right. The pages were still in the right order, and the cover hadn’t melted or turned inside out or anything else terrifying. It was the same book, just shifted in space. Perfectly fine.

  He practiced for a while with the book, moving it to various locations around his room. He was tempted to try moving it somewhere else, like to Serek’s desk drawer, but he refrained. He was only going to do this spell when he could see the target destination. No exceptions. He thought he’d be able to make it serve his purposes just fine.

  It was a couple of hours later when he first attempted to move himself.

  MEG FLEW THROUGH THE HALLS, RIDING her fury like a maddened horse. At least she knew it was her own anger this time — not dream-tainted — and perfectly justified. She had left her parents and the mages arguing about what that “choosing wisely” nonsense meant, and she couldn’t listen to one more second of it. She didn’t care what it meant. They should let her go. She thought again, for the hundredth time in the last few minutes, about just leaving. About climbing up on her dragon and flying off to save her sister. But then Lourin would declare war, and there would be no question that it was entirely her fault. And her parents would never forgive her. Well, maybe they’d forgive her when she returned with Maurel. But maybe not even then.

  She felt Jakl responding to her anger and cursed in frustration. She couldn’t let him get upset. If he thought she was in trouble, he might try to come to her, and even just flying across the castle grounds could be enough to set off Lourin.

  Easy, Jakl, she thought at him. It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just — just more stupid human stuff. I’m going to come see you very soon — I promise.

  She felt his concern ease off a bit, although not entirely, since of course he could still feel that she wasn’t really okay. And then she felt him say — feel — think? — very clearly: stupid human stuff.

  Meg stopped abruptly in the middle of the hall.

  It hadn’t been actual words. Not exactly. But it had been some kind of deliberately sent feeling of those words. As if Jakl had translated them into a kind of emotion and sent them back at her.

  She turned at once and headed out to his paddock.

  Jakl was lying in his field in the moonlight, mostly on his back, with his neck twisted around so that his head was right side up as he watched her approach.

  “What in the light of the Lady was that?” she asked him. She climbed over the fence and grabbed his head and looked into his right eye. “You’re — you’re talking now?”

  But he wasn’t; she knew that. It was something else. Not talking. But still . . . communicating. More clearly than ever before.

  She sat, and he rested his head against her.

  “Wow. All right. That’s — that’s new, then. Can you say — think — whatever that is . . . Can you do it again?”

  He just cocked his eye up at her. She wasn’t even sure he exactly understood what she was asking. He always seemed to understand her in general, although she’d assumed he was mostly picking up the feelings behind her words, not really listening to the words themselves. So maybe he was just associating certain feelings with the words she spoke while feeling them . . . ? Trying to explain it to herself was starting to give her a headache.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter,” she told him, stroking his neck. “You just startled me — that’s all. I guess we’re getting to know each other better and better all the time, hmm?”

  He sent a general feeling of affirmation at that.

  In the morning, when Meg went down to breakfast, she was determined to be calm and clearheaded. Her parents weren’t there. Nan Vera was feeding Mattie and looking very sad.

  Meg picked up her spoon. “They’re going to get her back, Nan Vera.” She made herself take a bite of porridge, as though that would prove that things were normal, that everything was going to be all right.

  “Oh, of course. Of course they will. I know.” Nan Vera wiped Mattie’s chin with a corner of a napkin. “I just hate thinking about how scared she must be, stolen away by that horrible woman. . . .”

  “I know,” Meg said softly.

  “But those mages will figure out something,” Nan Vera said with determined confidence. “They know all kinds of things. We’ll have our little troublemaker back before you know it.”

  Meg made herself finish eating, even though her appetite was nonexistent. Then she went off to find her parents. Mage Serek and Mage Anders were just walking out of the study when she arrived. They gave her distracted nods of greeting and hurried on their way. Meg went inside to join the king and queen.

  “Good morning,” she said, demonstrating her calm clearheadedness. She sat down in one of the empty chairs. “I apologize for my behavior last night. I should not have stormed out the way I did. I was . . . upset. Obviously. But I know that my behavior was inappropriate.”

  “It’s all right, Meg,” her father said. “Of course you’re upset. We all are.”

  Her mother came over and sat beside her. “We know you’re just worried about your sister.”

  Meg was almost disappointed to be let off the hook so easily. Couldn’t they see how sensible and reasonable she was being now? But she supposed it was better if they forgave her bad behavior in the first place. “Have you worked out a plan to go after Maurel?” she asked.

  “Yes,” her father said. “Serek is going to escort Wilem. We’ll send a few soldiers with him, just in case they can be of any use. They’re leaving as soon as possible.”

  “Good,” Meg said. “I’m glad Serek is going. Are they bringing any of those other mages along with them?
”

  “No. Serek said this was Trelian business, not Magistratum business. I’m not sure I agree, since if Sen Eva is involved, then apparently this Mage Krelig is also involved somehow . . . but you know how Serek can be. I have to trust that if he thought those other mages were truly needed, he wouldn’t leave them behind.”

  “It still doesn’t make sense to me,” the queen said. “If they all went, wouldn’t they be able to overpower Sen Eva without any trouble?”

  The king spread his hands. “You know we cannot force him. He is sworn to us, but to the mage’s order above all. If he thinks bringing the other mages would violate some law of the Magistratum . . .”

  The queen waved her hand as if to brush this argument aside. “I don’t care about the law of the Magistratum. I care about getting our daughter back.”

  “I know,” the king said. “I know, Merilyn.”

  “He’s not even bringing Anders?” Meg asked.

  “Anders said he definitely did not see himself going in his vision. He seems to feel very strongly that he should stay behind.”

  “I guess if we’re going to trust his visions, we can’t really argue with that,” Meg said. “Have you told Wilem about any of this yet?”

  “We were just about to,” said her father. “If he refuses . . . well, him at least we can force to go along.”

  “I don’t think you’ll need to do that,” Meg said. “He wants to prove that he’s not on Sen Eva’s side. This will give him a chance to do so.” She took a breath, steeling herself, then added, “I can go talk to him if you like.”

  “Thank you, Meg,” the king said. “That would be very helpful. Once you’ve explained the plan, have the guards bring him down to the courtyard as soon as he can be made ready.”

  “Be careful,” her mother said.

  Meg gave her mother what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Then she left and headed for Wilem’s chambers. This was good. If she couldn’t rescue Maurel as the dragon-girl, then she would help as much as she could as the princess-heir.

  Wilem seemed surprised — but not displeased — to see her again so soon.

  “I have some things to tell you,” she said, not wasting any time. “Do you still want to help us stop your mother from carrying out her plans?”

  “Yes,” he said at once.

  “Good,” she said. “Because Serek is taking you to her today.”

  He stared at her. “What?”

  She sat down in the chair across from him and explained about Maurel’s disappearance and Anders’s vision.

  “But —” he looked at her helplessly. “I don’t want to go back to her. If they’re planning to trade me for your sister . . .” He broke off suddenly. “No. That’s just as it should be. If I can help by buying back your sister’s life with my own, I’ll be glad to. And maybe I can do something to stop my mother’s plans once I’m with her.”

  “Thank you, Wilem.” She felt like she should say something else, but she couldn’t think of anything. She wasn’t sure if she should believe him, even now. He seemed sincere, but he had fooled her before, hadn’t he? Could this all be part of a plan to reunite him with his mother? There was no way to know. And it didn’t matter. They had no choice; they had to do whatever it took to get Maurel back.

  Meg stood up. “They want you down in the courtyard as soon as possible. I don’t know what you need to bring with you — anything you’ll need for camping out overnight, I suppose.”

  He got up, too, and stood facing her. “Thank you. For this chance. I want . . . I had hoped that in time you would be able to believe that I am no longer your enemy. I know I haven’t done enough to prove that to you yet, but . . . I hope that day will come.”

  Meg didn’t know what to say. She should tell him to forget it, that she would never trust him again. She should tell him that she didn’t care what happened to him. She should say that he was her enemy, and he always would be, and there was nothing he could ever do to change that.

  But she didn’t say any of those things. Instead she found herself reaching forward to touch his hand for just a second. “May the Bright Lady shine down upon you,” she whispered. Then she turned and walked quickly out of the room before he could say or do anything in response.

  They left within the hour. Meg watched them ride off: Serek with Wilem’s horse tethered to his own, the small company of soldiers spreading out to ride ahead and behind. Calen and Anders stood in the courtyard, waving good-bye. Well, Anders was waving; Calen was just standing there with his arms crossed. Still angry about being excluded, Meg guessed. And who could blame him? It was horrible that his own master suspected him of being a possible danger.

  After a moment Calen turned and walked over to her. “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Better than last night,” she said. “Still angry about not being able to help, but . . . I do understand, I guess. If we can get Maurel back without starting a war with Lourin, then that’s obviously what we should do.”

  Calen’s eyebrows went up. “You sound very resolved. And, uh . . . strangely reasonable.”

  She smacked him on the arm. “I can be reasonable,” she said. “Sometimes, anyway. Once I have a chance to calm down.”

  “Hmm.”

  “How about you? The reason they’re leaving you behind seems far less rational to me. Are you still really angry?”

  “Yeah,” Calen said. “But being angry won’t solve anything, I guess. I’m sure Serek thinks he’s doing the right thing.”

  She smiled. “You sound strangely reasonable, too.”

  He smiled back. It was almost a grin, actually. “I’ve had some time to think things out,” he said. “I was really angry last night, but today . . . today I’m feeling a lot better.”

  “Good. Do you want to come with me to visit Jakl? I’m trying to spend as much time as possible with him to help make up for not being able to let him fly.”

  “Maybe later,” he said. “I’ve got some things I need to take care of first.”

  “Oh. I guess you still have chores and things even if Serek suspended your lessons, huh?”

  “Uh, yes. Exactly.” He looked at her. “I’ll see you later, Meg.”

  “Sure. Bye, Calen!”

  But Calen didn’t come all that morning or afternoon, and finally she went to look for him to see if he wanted to have dinner together. Things still didn’t feel completely back to normal between them, but she thought they were getting better. He hadn’t seemed mad at her today, anyway. And there were still so many things she wanted to talk to him about. She had planned to tell him about Jakl’s new thought-feelings when he came to meet her, until she’d realized he wasn’t coming. She thought he must have gotten caught up in something magic related; he did tend to get lost in those giant books sometimes, especially now that he was allowed to go into the mage’s library without asking permission. And she had no doubt he’d keep up his own reading even if Serek wasn’t teaching him anything right now. He wasn’t in the library, though. Or in his room, or Serek’s study, or the Mage’s Garden, or anywhere else she looked. She finally tracked down Anders, who was sitting in a meeting room with the visiting mages, discussing something that they quickly stopped discussing as soon as she came in.

  “Nope, haven’t seen him,” Anders said when she asked. “Probably off sulking somewhere. That’s what I would be doing!” He ushered her out, unconcerned.

  Meg found herself out in the hall with the door closed firmly behind her. She didn’t know why she was worried, exactly. It’s not like she always knew where Calen was during the day. Except that he was usually either in the mages’ quarters or doing tasks for Serek or spending time with her. And she wanted to talk to him. Maybe he was wandering around as well, and they just kept missing each other. She was sure he’d come find her eventually.

  She took the opportunity to go visit Tessel again in the infirmary. This time, when she peeked in, she saw that Tessel was sitting up in bed, looking at a book. Meg almost duck
ed back out before Tessel could see her but made herself walk in, instead. She owed Tessel a lot. Hiding from her was just cowardly.

  “Good evening, Tessel,” Meg said quietly. “Are you . . . ? How are you feeling?”

  Tessel looked up and Meg almost flinched, anticipating anger, or fear, or maybe even hatred in the older girl’s eyes. But she didn’t see any of that.

  “Princess,” Tessel said. “They told me you’d been in to see me.”

  “Yes.” Meg sat on the chair beside the bed. “I’m — I’m so sorry, Tessel. For what happened. You were right to try to talk me out of going, and I should never have let you come along.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “No!” Meg said. “It’s not all right! They tortured you! You could have been killed! And it’s my fault; I made you put yourself in danger —”

  Tessel shook her head. “But they didn’t kill me. And I’ll — I’ll be fine. I’m not sleeping as much now, and my dispatcher said I might be able to return to my duties in a few more days, if the physicians clear me.”

  Meg blinked. “Return . . . But after what happened . . .”

  “A courier position comes with certain risks,” Tessel said. “Not, um, precisely the kind of risks I’d expected in this case, but I’m certainly not going to quit now. I still have my duty. I’m eager to get back to it.”

  “I feel like you’re letting me off too easy,” Meg said. “You should hate me for what happened.”

  “I . . . did, at first. But you thought you were doing the right thing, at least in the beginning. And everyone makes mistakes.” She twisted her mouth up a little. “If you weren’t sorry, if you hadn’t seemed to think better of what you’d done — well, that might have made it harder for me. But in my heart, I can’t blame you for doing what you thought was right.”

  Meg felt tears pricking her eyes for what seemed the hundredth time in the last few days. “Thank you, Tessel. I am sorry. Truly. And if there is ever anything I can do for you . . .”