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

by Sebastien de Castell

  ‘What are you going to tell my parents?’ I asked.

  ‘The truth. I found you like this in the oasis with your three idiot friends and about a dozen squirrel cats.’

  ‘They aren’t my friends any more,’ I said reflexively. Ugh. I sound like a child.

  Ferius glanced down at my face, which I gathered didn’t look very good, because she said, ‘Yeah, kid, I’m inclined to agree.’

  ‘I …’ I hesitated. There was something I wanted to say, or rather, something I wanted Ferius to say, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. ‘You haven’t said anything about what I did,’ I said finally.

  ‘Was there something you wanted me to say about it?’

  ‘No, I just thought …’ The truth was, I kept expecting her to say that it was brave of me to free the squirrel cat, that she was … I don’t know, impressed or maybe proud of me. I’m not sure why I cared what a Daroman wanderer thought when my parents were going to be furious with me, but it seemed unfair that I’d got so badly beaten up and wrecked my life and wasn’t even going to get complimented.

  ‘You want me to tell you that you did the right thing,’ Ferius said as we turned a corner. My family’s home was down the next block.

  ‘Well, did I?’

  She stopped, her eyes still focused on the street ahead of us, not looking at me. ‘I don’t know, kid.’ She let out a long, slow breath before she spoke again. ‘When you see the world outside your home town, outside the walls of what you were brought up to see, then you discover that you almost never know if you’re doing the right thing. One action, brave and true, leads to war and destruction. Another, craven and greedy, leads to peace and prosperity.’ She let the words hang in the air a while, then seemed to come back to herself. ‘I’ll tell you one thing for free though.’ I could hear the smile in her voice even before she looked down at me. ‘You did what you did like a man.’

  I felt my chest tighten a little, probably because my injuries were starting to flare up again. ‘You talk about being a man a lot,’ I said.

  Ferius laughed. ‘I guess I do, kid.’ She resumed walking towards my home.

  We were a few doors away when the pain from my various injuries really started to bother me. My ribs felt like they were breaking into bits, the inside of my mouth ached from where I’d been punched in the jaw, and even the skin on my right arm where I’d slid along the ground itched like seven hells. I scratched at it, which only made it worse. ‘Ouch,’ I said.

  She looked down at me and laughed. ‘Ouch? “Ouch”? Is that what you were saying while they were punching and kicking you? “Ouch”?’

  ‘Shut up. It hurts.’

  She ignored me and went on. ‘I mean, is it like one of those Jan’Tep magic words? “Ouch, I say to thee – nothing shall penetrate my magical Ouch shield!”’

  ‘Stop it,’ I said, still scratching at my arm, preferring the pain to the itching, but then it hurt so bad I yelped out loud.

  ‘Quit scratching, kid, you’re going to make yourself bleed and the cut’ll get infected.’

  I held up my forearm to look for blood, but saw none, just the dirt and grit from the ground outside the oasis. I knew every twist and turn in the tattooed sigils of those bands, had spent countless hours and days begging for them to spark. Even in the darkness of the street, I sensed something had changed. The silver inks of the first band no longer lay flat and lifeless. They moved, a tiny, subtle movement, a delicate dance of magic beneath the skin.

  ‘Kid?’ Ferius asked.

  I blinked, trying to see better, desperate to prove to myself I wasn’t imagining it. Oh please, I begged my ancestors. Please don’t let this be a trick. As I’d done thousands of times before, I set my will upon the band.

  Nothing happened, and I saw that the sigils weren’t really moving at all. I felt such a deep, biting sense of disappointment that my eyes filled with stupid, childish tears. Even though I tried to hold it back, a sob escaped my lips.

  ‘Relax, kid,’ Ferius said.

  ‘You don’t understand! You never did! This is all I’ve—’

  ‘No, I mean it. Shut up and relax.’

  All of a sudden I understood what she meant. When I’d first seen the change in the band on my forearm, I’d become elated, but you can’t exert your will on the fundamental forces of magic when you’re excited, just like you can’t when you’re crying like a baby. It takes calm. Control. Command.

  I closed my eyes to stop myself from paying attention to the band itself and instead sent my focus inwards, calling forth the power that would attach to the silver sigils, willing the tiny tattooed links between them to break apart, freeing the magic inside me. I didn’t rush, didn’t think about how long it was taking or the fact that Ferius was still holding me in her arms or that I had no friends any more or that if I failed I’d become … I let it all go. I stopped asking myself if I had the magic of my people. I was done asking.

  ‘Hey, kid, look.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, my eyes still closed. I didn’t need to look at the sigils because I already knew they were glowing with magical force.

  ‘Which one is that?’ Ferius asked.

  I opened my eyes, and then drew clean, beautiful air into my lungs before I said the single, awestruck word: ‘Breath!’

  Ferius was looking down at me, not smiling exactly, but at least she wasn’t making any stupid jokes. I let myself stare at the silver sigils of the breath band, the tiny, beautiful symbols shining like stars on the canvas of my skin, each one representing a different form of breath magic I could now cast.

  I had sparked a band.

  I reached out with my other hand towards one of the glow-glass lanterns above us and pushed at it with my will. A soft light began to emerge, slowly pushing back against the darkness around us. It wasn’t much, in fact it was barely anything at all, but it was there. It was real.

  I wasn’t Sha’Tep.

  I wasn’t broken.

  I had magic.

  As the glow of the lantern began to warm my skin, I caught Ferius’s eye and was surprised by what I found there. She was staring at my face. ‘Aw, kid, no …’

  I knew I probably looked a mess. I’d taken a beating that was so bad I could barely feel my cheeks or open my eyes from the bruising. But I still resented her for not having the decency to at least pretend to share my happiness. To the hells with her Argosi ways and her spite for my people. Still, I was feeling generous. ‘I know it looks bad,’ I said. ‘Guess even with magic I’m going to need you to teach me how to fight.’

  Ferius opened her mouth but then closed it again. She hoicked me back up, the muscles of her face tensing as if I’d just got a whole lot heavier. ‘No, kid, now I’m going to have to teach you how to run.’

  24

  The Mark

  ‘Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?’ I asked again.

  We had finally reached the first of the seven wide marble steps that led up to the entrance of my family home. I felt my sense of elation over breaking the breath band fade a little as the thought of the punishment awaiting me behind those thick double doors ahead of us sank in. I had snuck out of my father’s house without permission, set free one of the creatures my people most feared and despised and struck my fellow students. When did I become such a terrible son?

  ‘I can stand on my own,’ I muttered.

  ‘Take three deep breaths, kid,’ Ferius said as she set me down.

  ‘What good will that do?’

  ‘It’ll keep your voice from sounding thin and whiny when you talk to your parents.’

  As if that’ll make any difference. Why hadn’t I just run to find one of the city guards when I’d come upon Tennat, Panahsi and Nephenia torturing the squirrel cat? That would have put a stop to it without setting the little monster free and ruining my life. There was a knot in my stomach. Back at the square I’d thought I was doing the right thing, but now I had to explain it to my parents without sounding completely insane, and all I could t
hink was that maybe I was insane. Mages don’t attack other mages to save a creature whose favourite food was probably Jan’Tep babies. But if I hadn’t saved the animal, if I hadn’t fought against my friends, would the breath band have broken? Would my parents balance out my crime against the rewards to our family?

  ‘Stand straight, kid,’ said Ferius at the sound of footsteps from inside the house. Someone was coming to the door. ‘If you can’t be tough, look tough.’

  I thrust my shoulders back and immediately felt like an idiot. The problem with Ferius was that she confused things that mattered – like being able to cast a shield spell – with things that didn’t, like standing up straight. Who cared if I looked confident? I’d already brought shame on my father when my magic had failed, and now I’d compounded it by helping the nekhek escape. Even if Panahsi and Nephenia stuck to the story, Tennat would tell his father and Ra’meth would demand that I be prosecuted for my actions. My father was going to have to humiliate himself in front of the council and invoke his prerogative as a master mage to have the punishment lessened. Saving me was going to hurt his chances of becoming clan prince. Against that, how much would it matter to him that I’d sparked a single band?

  I glanced over at Ferius, searching for something clever to say that would let her know just how badly she’d screwed up my life, but her eyes were still fixed on the doors to my house. ‘You sure about this, Kellen?’ she asked.

  It was one of the few times she’d ever used my name. ‘What do you mean?’

  Ferius turned and knelt down a fraction so that we were eye-to-eye. She was only an inch or two taller than me, so it annoyed me that she’d bothered. ‘My horse is tethered about a mile from here. She can carry both of us a ways, and there’s a place a few miles down the road where I can get us another. Say the word, kid, and I’ll get us out of here.’

  ‘Are you joking? I just sparked my first band! I’m going to be a Jan’Tep mage like my father! Why would I ever …’

  The doors creaked open; light from inside cut through the night. Ferius nudged me over a few feet. ‘Stay in that patch of shadow,’ she said.

  Spirits of our ancestors, I thought. I must really look terrible.

  It would only get worse. Chances are I was facing house arrest coupled with a public flogging. The latter wouldn’t be so bad so long as my mother was allowed to heal the wounds right away. But if I was stuck inside, how was I going to take my mage’s trials? For the first time I had an actual chance of passing them for real.

  My mother’s face appeared, lit from behind like one of the goddesses our ancestors used to worship. Even with the look of concern on her face she was beautiful. And powerful, I thought, feeling the soft movement in the air from the magical energy crackling around her.

  ‘Kellen, is that you?’ she asked, her eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness. She looked around but I was in the shadows. Her eyes fell on Ferius.

  ‘Lady Ferius, where is—’

  ‘I’m here, Mother,’ I said, trying to step out but Ferius put a hand on me and kept me where I was.

  ‘Oh, thank the ancestors,’ she said, turning back for a moment to shout into the house. ‘Ke’heops! Kellen has returned!’

  A moment later my father emerged from the house, his silver-and-blue robes shimmering from the light behind him. He was holding a small scrying mirror in his hand, and when he caught sight of me he placed it into one of the pockets of his robes. ‘Where is she?’ he demanded.

  At first I thought he must be referring to Ferius and had somehow missed her standing a few feet away. ‘It’s not her fault, Father. It was my idea to …’ I couldn’t finish the sentence. Of course it’s her fault, you idiot. Ferius is the one who convinced you to help the squirrel cat.

  His eyes narrowed and then he glanced over at Ferius before setting his gaze back on me. ‘I don’t care about the Argosi card player. What have you done with your sister?’

  My father’s face was a mask of anger and frustration that scared me more than the hideous black-and-red lacquer ones worn by the men who’d attacked Shalla and me in the forest.

  ‘Father, I swear, I haven’t done anything with Shalla. I haven’t even seen her since—’

  ‘Oh,’ my mother said, her voice equal parts frustration and fearful resignation. I knew that tone, or at least a small part of it. She’d been scrying for hours, trying to find my sister. The spells used for scrying are dangerous, draining a mage’s power as their mind searches further and further afield. My mother looked exhausted. How far had she pushed herself?

  I started towards the stairs, but Ferius put a hand on my shoulder again and stopped me. ‘When was the last time you saw the girl?’

  My father’s jaw clenched and I knew he was rightfully outraged. This was our household’s business, and to have an outsider ask the question was unseemly. My mother answered. ‘Shalla woke up hours ago, largely unharmed, but … her falcon was dead. It had sickened in the night and nothing we did helped it. Her spells wouldn’t work. She was terrified that she might be like …’ She hesitated as she glanced over at where I stood in the shadows. ‘We told her it was far too soon to fear a permanent loss of her magic, but Shalla just became more and more agitated. She was inconsolable and eventually I had to give her a light sedative to calm her. She should have slept for hours, but—’

  ‘Shalla snuck out sometime this afternoon,’ my father said, his voice grim. ‘We thought she must be with you, Kellen, that the pair of you had hatched some further foolishness to restore your magic.’

  I felt suddenly disgusted with myself. While I was busy bringing yet more shame to my family, something terrible had happened to my sister. I was almost too ashamed to show my parents that I’d sparked the breath band.

  My father rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead, looking more tired than I’d seen him in a very long time. ‘We must attempt the scrying again.’ He turned to my mother. ‘I do not have the magic of silk, Bene’maat. We must risk more of your strength if we are to find her.’

  My mother returned his gaze. ‘Husband … I will try, but—’

  ‘Or you could just go look for the girl,’ Ferius said. The casual, almost dismissive tone of her voice instantly angered me. I turned to say something, but stopped when I saw her kneeling on the cobbled street, the fingers of one gloved hand tracing patterns in the dirt and dust. ‘I could track her,’ she said, then looked up at my father. ‘I can do it quiet too, since I reckon the reason you haven’t gone yourself is that you don’t want the wrong folks knowing your daughter’s missing.’

  I tried to imagine how you could search for someone without using scrying spells. It seemed preposterous. But my parents’ panic was beginning to infect me. ‘Can you really do it, Ferius? Can you find my sis—’

  ‘Be silent, Kellen.’ My father’s voice brooked no dissent. He started down the stairs, slowly, methodically, until finally he stood towering over Ferius. ‘And what will it cost me, Argosi?’

  He made the word Argosi sound like something mean and dirty. ‘Father, Ferius is my friend. She would never—’

  Before I could finish, Ferius Parfax replied: ‘A pardon.’

  Everything went still. My father looked confused at first, but then he crossed his arms across his broad chest. ‘A pardon for whom, Argosi? For your Daroman king?’ It wasn’t the first time someone had accused Ferius of being a spy rather than a simple trader, but it surprised me that my father would believe such a ridiculous rumour. Ferius was … well, nothing like how I imagined a spy would be.

  But Ferius didn’t answer, and so my father went on. ‘Perhaps your fat king wishes for absolution for some new crime he has committed against the Jan’Tep? Has he betrayed us once again to one of his allies and now fears our retribution?’ My father let the allegation hang in the air, his eyes never leaving Ferius, as if he expected her to crack at any moment under his scrutiny. Again she said nothing and again my father probed with more questions. ‘Or perhaps you wish to purchase
this pardon for yourself. Perhaps you’ve betrayed your masters in the capital and hope to find sanctuary here, in the only place the Daroman army fears to tread.’

  Despite my father’s ominous words and overwhelming presence, Ferius seemed unruffled, but I noticed she pretended to brush dust from her waistcoat. When she was done one of the pockets was open. She wants to make sure she can reach her weapons, I realised. When she finally spoke, her voice was colder than the ice spell used to preserve the bodies of the dead for burial under the hot sun. ‘No need to be so coy, master mage. If you want to accuse me of something, why don’t you go ahead and see where it leads you?’

  ‘Would you threaten me, woman?’

  ‘Long past time somebody did,’ she replied.

  Flat-soled sandals clacked against the marble steps as my mother ran towards them. ‘Stop this!’ she commanded. ‘My daughter is missing! She may have been taken!’ My mother knelt down in front of Ferius and placed her hands on the other woman’s boots. ‘Please … I know something of the Argosi ways … I know you don’t mean to be like this.’

  Ferius knelt down until her face was at the same height as my mother’s – the same way she’d done to me earlier. ‘Sister, the fact that you’re on your knees tells me you don’t know spit about the Argosi.’

  ‘Please, Lady Ferius, Shalla is my—’

  ‘I’m still not a lady,’ Ferius said, cutting her off, ‘and that won’t change no matter how many times you …’ She broke off and shook her head. ‘Ah, forget it, sister.’ She rose up and pulled my mother to her feet. ‘I’ll find your little girl for you.’