Spellslinger: The fantasy novel that keeps you guessing on every page

by Sebastien de Castell

  ‘You’ve linked the tube to its throat. Not bad,’ Panahsi said, a trace of admiration in his voice.

  The nekhek made raw, almost gurgling sounds. It was going to die now, I knew. The three of them were swept up in the thrill of magic, the sensations of power, of accomplishment, of all the things I would never feel. They were too far gone to stop now. The creature knew it too. It turned its head desperately as if looking for someone to save it. For just an instant its face turned to where I knelt in the shadows. The moon was high in the sky and the light glinted off the animal’s eyes. They were like small shiny black marbles surrounded by black fur. I could see its pain so clearly in that moment. The anger. The fear. And I finally saw what Ferius had wanted me to see.

  I saw myself.

  I saw who I was and I saw the man I wanted to be.

  I finally understood how that man was different from my friends and from my family, from my people. And I knew precisely what that man would do.

  It was something very, very stupid.

  20

  Jailbreak

  ‘Stop it,’ I called out.

  ‘Kellen?’ Nephenia asked, her eyes fixed on me as I walked to the centre of the oasis, the rock hidden in my hand.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Tennat said irritably, his concentration slipping and the link between the tube and the nekhek’s throat fading. The creature fell back in the cage panting. ‘Now I have to start all over again! It figures you’d want to ruin everything.’

  ‘Stop it, Tennat,’ I repeated, getting steadily closer to them and still not having a clue what I was going to do when I got there.

  Their faces were practically glistening. You could see it in their eyes. Joy. Excitement. Desire. Surprise and annoyance that I’d interrupted them, and something else too: a tiny sliver of concern. They’re worried that I’m going to tell on them, I thought. As if anyone in the village would really punish them for what they were doing. Maybe they would have got into a little trouble. My father would be angered over the potential delay in his plans to deal with the remaining nekhek in the hills, our teacher Osia’phest would certainly mete out some modest punishment for casting spells without proper supervision, but everyone else would probably quietly cheer them for being bold and brave, for once again demonstrating that although the Daroman had military might, it was the Jan’Tep who controlled magic. But only true Jan’Tep, of course.

  I hate my people, I realised, with the clarity that comes from an idea you’ve never dared to consider before. I hate all of them. I even hate my family, because one day they’re going to think I’m just as worthless and vile as the animal in that cage.

  ‘Did you … want to try?’ Nephenia asked gently.

  ‘Great,’ Tennat said. ‘Let’s have the spy-lover Kellen waste our time with yet another failed spell.’

  Nephenia gave me a look of pity and then slapped the back of Tennat’s head. ‘Don’t be cruel. If Kellen wants to try …’

  The hells with you, Tennat. The hells with you, Panahsi, even you, Nephenia. The hells with Mother and Father and everyone else.

  ‘You’ve got to be reasonable, Kellen,’ Panahsi said, his tone a remarkably poor impression of a sympathetic adult. ‘This is blood magic. It’s beyond …’

  ‘It’s beyond you, Kellen.’ At least have the courage to say it.

  Panahsi was right of course. The three of them could already work spells I’d never be able to cast, not for as long as I lived. Inside the cage, the nekhek lay on its side, still moaning in pain. You can’t stop them from doing this. They’ll only hurt you as well if you try.

  ‘Maybe if you let yourself go,’ Nephenia said, reaching out a hand. ‘I mean, concentrate on the spell, but let go of the fear of doing it wrong. You worry too much, Kellen.’

  I almost laughed. Fear. Sure, that was all it was. I looked again at the nekhek trapped behind the bars, terrified out of its mind.

  Then I realised that she was right. Fear was the answer. Fear held its own kind of magic, if you could harness it.

  ‘Don’t waste your time, Neph,’ Tennat said. ‘We could stand here all night waiting and Kellen wouldn’t spark a glow-glass bulb. Besides, I’ve got something really cool I want to—’

  ‘There’s one spell I can do,’ I muttered, more to myself than to him.

  ‘Yeah? What spell is that? The running-away spell?’ He scrunched his face tight. ‘Or maybe the trying-so-hard-you-wet-your-own-pants spell? I hear you’re good at that one.’

  ‘Tennat!’ Nephenia said.

  ‘All right, all right,’ Tennat said, his hands up in mock submission. ‘It’s just a fact. Some people can’t work magic. Maybe when you join the servants we can still—’

  ‘You can’t either, Tennat,’ I said. ‘Not when you’re afraid. Even the masters can’t cast spells when they’re afraid, when they can’t concentrate. But I’ve got one that works no matter how scared I am.’

  Tennat gave a snort and stepped in front of Panahsi and Nephenia to give me a shove. ‘Your friend with the razor blades isn’t here, Kellen. You think I’m afraid of some sickly, magic-less—’

  I swung the rock hard and slammed it into the side of his head. Tennat’s eyes went wide with surprise and he hung there for an instant. Then his body worked out what had happened, his legs gave out from under him and he fell to the ground.

  ‘What the hells—’ Panahsi started, but I didn’t give him a chance. I swung the rock again and got a glancing hit against his lips and front teeth. He stumbled back out of the way. I didn’t give him a chance to recover. Panahsi was smart. He only needed to get away from me for a moment and calm himself long enough to cast a spell. I couldn’t give him that chance. Pain works as well as fear to break concentration, so I kicked him in the knee. He let out a scream and went down next to Tennat.

  Nephenia, her eyes full of shock and confusion, was already forming a knot spell with her left hand that would have me writhing on the ground in another second. ‘Kel …’ She hesitated for just a second. So did I. This was the girl I’d wanted ever since I was twelve years old, for whom I’d written dozens of stupid, lovesick poems. I still kept them in a box buried in the garden behind my home. I knew I’d never show them to her, that I’d be humiliated if my sister or anyone else found them, but I’d kept them all the same. I’d tried to draw pictures of her too, and if there’d been an ounce of magic in me I swear I would have used it up on every charm spell ever devised. I guess you could say I was in love with her.

  Maybe that was why, when I punched her in the face, it was with the hand that wasn’t holding the rock.

  ‘Stop him,’ Panahsi said, clutching his leg. I could see him trying to concentrate but the pain was too much.

  I had to keep them all off balance. My people aren’t used to physical pain. We’re not violent. Or rather, we don’t usually like to get our own hands dirty. A Jan’Tep man is supposed to be calm and collected, reserved and, when he speaks, full of brilliant insights and wit. I was screaming like a lunatic at all of them, at the very world around us. ‘How do you like my magic now?’ I shouted. ‘How do you like it now, you bastard –’

  Something struck me hard on the back of the legs. Panahsi had found a stick and had hit me with it even as he lay on his side. I went down, but twisted away just in time to avoid the stick landing on my head. Someone kicked me in the ribs. It was Tennat. He kicked me again. I tried to kick him back, but I was stuck like an overturned turtle. At first I couldn’t get a solid connection, but when I did I pushed back with both feet, sliding myself back along the sand towards the cage. I felt something grab at my hair and thought the nekhek might be clawing at me, so I pulled my head away. It would serve me right if, after throwing my life away for it, the little monster ended up killing me.

  Glancing back, I realised it was trying to grab at the latch of the cage. There was a lock that kept it from opening, but I still had the rock in my hand. I rolled around and got my knees under me, taking a kick in the middle of
my back from Tennat in order to have my chance. I slammed the rock down hard on the lock. Once, twice. On the third try it broke, and the door swung open.

  The others were all on their feet now, coming towards me. Nephenia, bless her heart, actually had a hand on Panahsi’s arm as he limped towards me, as if she might hold him back. They all stopped in their tracks when they saw the nekhek emerge. No, not a nekhek. It’s called a squirrel cat.

  The creature growled, a thin, almost feathery sound that was full of rage. Panahsi and Tennat stumbled back from it. I looked at the little monster, its furry face only a foot away from my own. It moved closer, its eyes catching mine. For a second I thought it might be trying to protect me. It understands, I thought. It knows what I did.

  Two things happened just then, both of which I guess I deserved. The first was, the squirrel cat bit my hand so hard it drew blood. The second was that the little monster ran away, out past the edge of the colonnades and away from the oasis, leaving me with the three people I’d just assaulted in order to free it.

  ‘A bind!’ Panahsi shouted. ‘Someone use a binding spell on the damned nekhek!’

  ‘The creature’s too far away,’ Tennat replied.

  ‘Then go after it!’ Panahsi punctuated his words with a kick to my stomach.

  I saw Tennat run past me after it, but he came back a moment later. ‘It’s gone. It’s too damned fast.’

  I felt another kick to the gut. I grabbed at the leg, wrestling it and using it to pull myself into a sitting position. I should have stayed down. Panahsi grasped my hair with one hand and drove his fist into my face with the other. Blood exploded from my nose, the droplets falling slowly and glowing in the soft light, like the petals from summer blossoms picked up by the wind. It’s like a magic spell, I thought, the idea striking me as incredibly funny despite the ensuing waves of pain.

  ‘You think this was a joke?’ Tennat said, kicking me in the side while Panahsi held my head up by its hair. ‘You think you’re going to laugh your way out of this?’

  ‘Stop it! Just stop it!’ Nephenia cried.

  I looked up to see her face full of tears and uncertain anger. Why was she so angry with me? Maybe because you punched her in the face, idiot. And yet here she was, trying to pull Panahsi away from me. Twin bruises were forming around the eyes of my one-time friend, painting dark, uneven circles. You’d make an ugly squirrel cat, Panahsi, I thought absently.

  ‘Stop laughing,’ he said, slapping me across the face. It seemed like a sissy thing to do, but then I realised his hand must be hurting from punching me. That sent me into more spasms of laughter.

  Tennat kicked me again. I heard something crack. ‘What’s so funny, you stupid, magic-less piece of crap?’

  ‘Don’t you get it?’ I asked. ‘I do have magic. I just made a squirrel cat disappear.’

  I don’t know if anyone but me thought that was funny, because at this point Panahsi and Tennat were taking turns kicking me and then someone’s foot connected with my head, snapping it back so that it collided with the corner of the cage.

  The light of the moon winked in and out, the world alternating between harsh reality and perfect, peaceful darkness, blacker than any shadow.

  ‘Ancestors!’ Panahsi said. ‘What is that?’

  I thought he was looking at me and wondered just how much blood was leaking out of my head, but as my vision came back I followed the line of his sight towards the other side of the colonnade. A shadowy form was scurrying along the ground towards us. No, not a shadow. Many shadows.

  As the dark shapes came closer, throwing up sand as they raced towards us, the light from the lantern revealed colours ranging from every shade of brown to the deepest black, their fur almost matching the darkness around them. Nekheks, I thought, absurdly still not sure what to call them even as I felt myself start to panic at the sight of more than a dozen of the creatures. Finally they stopped, half encircling Tennat and the others, growling and chittering furiously. One of the creatures, which I recognised as the one I’d freed from the cage, the one that had bitten my hand so hard it was bleeding even now, rose up on its haunches. It growled and chittered too, only something about the noises he made was different.

  I could understand them.

  He – and I suddenly knew it was a he because of the tone of his voice – glanced at me for a second before turning to Tennat and the others, baring his teeth and saying, ‘All right, you hairless skinbag sons of bitches. Which one of you wants it first?’

  21

  The Squirrel Cats

  The oasis was so quiet that I wondered if perhaps the disturbing image before me was the result of one too many blows to the head. The squirrel cats – though now the word nekhek seemed more appropriate – held their ground, the muscles of their furry bodies twitching, almost quivering in anticipation. Panahsi, Nephenia and Tennat were more still, each one struggling to find the inner calm required to cast Jan’Tep magic. I found myself counting the seconds down, as if I were about to witness a mage’s duel. I could almost hear old Osia’phest: ‘Seven … six … five …’

  ‘Damn it,’ Panahsi said, fingers twitching as they ran through the somatic forms for a conflagration spell. He’d incinerate the animals if he could cast the ember magic wide enough, but his face was glistening with sweat and his chest was still pumping from his prior exertions. He couldn’t draw the magic inside himself yet, but he still kept his eyes on the squirrel cats. Panahsi knew full well that he was more powerful than Nephenia and Tennat. He’d see it as his job to protect the others. He really was a pretty admirable person when he wasn’t kicking you half to death.

  I had no idea what the squirrel cats were thinking. The fur of the thin, flat skin between their front and hind legs rippled in the soft late-night breeze. It was like watching waves on the surface of a lake, if that lake happened to be made of pure unbridled rage and the promise of imminent bloodshed.

  ‘We should back away,’ Nephenia suggested without taking her eyes off the creatures. ‘Then we can call for help.’

  Panahsi’s hands were still running through the somatic forms, but he said, ‘We can’t. The quieting spell is still active. No one can hear us.’

  So that’s why I didn’t hear you until I was near the ring of the columns. It made sense of course. With the little monster screaming under their blood spells, someone would have been bound to hear eventually. But none of them, not even Panahsi, had the experience to cast a hush that could cover the whole oasis. Somebody must have helped them do it – maybe Tennat’s brother or his father?

  ‘No backing away,’ Tennat said, his voice soft, almost reassuring. ‘We kill them. Every last one of them.’

  Apparently he wasn’t as good at bluffing as he thought, because a couple of the squirrel cats started growling and I could see them shifting, muscles bunching in preparation to attack.

  The lead animal chittered back at them, ‘Nobody attacks until I give the damned order.’ Some of the others hissed and growled, but I had no idea what they’d said until the leader snapped back, ‘Well, I’m in charge now, so shut up and wait.’

  The little chitters and grunts and growls he made were so clearly speech to my ears that I kept thinking Panahsi, Tennat and Nephenia must be able to understand them too. None of them showed any sign of it, though Nephenia looked conflicted. She glanced over at me, her face full of fear and anger and … I don’t know what. Maybe regret? Or maybe you just want to see that because then it might not be over between you. Like maybe you just think you suddenly learned to speak Nekhek because maybe that would justify betraying your own people.

  ‘They haven’t attacked us yet,’ Nephenia said. ‘Maybe if we just leave—’

  ‘No,’ Tennat said, his voice more forceful now. ‘We’ll be heroes for this, Neph. You’ll be able to choose any path of study you want and the masters will support you. We can set our entire futures right now if we wipe this lot out. When Pan casts the fire river, be ready to support his spell. Then we can wat
ch these little monsters dance to their own death.’

  The sickening excitement in Tennat’s voice at the thought of burning these animals alive set my stomach churning, but it also felt oddly reassuring to know that he was just as rotten a human being as I’d always suspected. Is it wrong that I kind of like hating him this much?

  Slowly and quietly, I began shifting my weight, preparing to get my feet under me.

  I didn’t know what to think about the creatures who were now only seconds from their deaths. Were they the vicious nekhek as I’d always believed? Evil spirits that had long ago served the same Mahdek bastards who had waged war on my people in centuries past and may have come back to kill my sister just two days ago? Or were they just what Ferius claimed – squirrel cats – animals trying to protect themselves as any of us would when attacked?

  The leader bared his teeth and growled something that would’ve got me in a good deal of trouble if my parents had ever heard me utter it. Who knew animals had such foul mouths?

  ‘I think I’m ready,’ Panahsi said. His chubby fingers once again twitched through the somatic pattern for the river of fire. It wasn’t quite perfect, but probably close enough to work. I was going to have to make a decision now: watch as he killed the entire pack of squirrel cats, or take one more step into treason against my own people.

  ‘Don’t do it, Pan,’ I said. ‘Just back off and let them go.’

  ‘Shut up, Kellen,’ he replied.

  Nephenia reached out but stopped short of touching him. ‘Maybe Kellen’s right. They’re not attacking. We can—’

  ‘Good,’ Tennat said, his voice still sounding as if he were soothing a nervous horse. ‘By the time Panahsi casts the spell it’ll be too late for any of them to get away.’

  I had my arms under me now. With a solid push I could get to my feet and make a run at Panahsi before he got the spell off. Just as I was about to move, the lead squirrel cat turned and chittered at me. ‘Hey, kid, tell the fat one a couple of things for me.’