Nia dissolved the vision with a wordless cry, stumbling away from the table.
For you. For you. For you, the walls chanted over and over.
Nia slapped her hands over her ears. “Stop it!”
For you. For you. For you.
Torches flared to brilliant light, burning higher and brighter than they should. The flames licked the ceiling slithering in her direction, adding their voices to the walls.
“Enough!” Furious tears blurred her vision. Her magic pulsed inside her skin, leaking from her hands, creating bursts of light and heat.
For you. For you…
Nia screamed.
The study plunged into blessed dark silence. With all the flames extinguished and the walls turned mute, nothing else dared intrude on her solitude.
Left to herself, Nia found her bed by touch, laid down upon it, and buried her face in her pillow to weep in peace.
* * *
There were duties Saeran had to perform as king, yet all seemed to have been forgotten. Guests still celebrated, masters oversaw the servants, his father was busy packing for his travels, and Saeran was free to do as he pleased. He went to the glen.
When Nia arrived, he wanted to be ready. She’d been right last night. Saeran’s future was already set. He didn’t know why he’d said what he had, but was grateful Nia hadn’t taken his words to heart. Perhaps the wine had gone to his head.
Today, however, was a new beginning. He’d prove to her that he was a good student and he’d make her forget about any foolish thing he may have blurted out in the heat of the moment. Saeran was resolved. He would make this work somehow. No matter how enchanting Nia might be, no matter how seductive the thought of kissing her again might become, he would be steadfast and true to his goal. She would never have reason to regret taking him on as her student.
Thusly decided, he climbed an apple tree up to the third branch and settled in to wait.
A sparrow flew circles around his head. It lighted on a higher branch and stared at him, tilting its head first to one side then the other before it opened its beak and made a shrill sound.
Saeran grinned and held out his hand, delighted when the bird perched on his finger. “Hello.”
The sparrow chirped.
“What brings you to my tree on this fine day?”
The bird chirped again, this time with enough gusto to ruffle his feathers.
“I see you’ve made a friend up there.”
Saeran grinned down at Nia. She was dressed in her usual robes, but today she’d draped the wolf’s pelt over her shoulders for warmth. The head of it rested on her shoulder as an old friend. He was glad she wore it. A wizard he was not, but even he could sense its proper place was not mounted on a wall or tossed over a chair. No, that wolf was meant for Nia.
“He just came to me,” he told her studying the sparrow now nesting in the palm of his hand. “You are a he, are you not?”
Nia chuckled. “Come down from there, the both of you. We have much to do today.”
The bird abandoned him and landed on Nia’s shoulder. Saeran shook his head. “Does all of nature obey your every whim?” He jumped to the ground, falling into step with Nia as she walked farther away from prying eyes.
“As much as the whole kingdom obeys yours, I would think.” She lowered herself to sit on a fallen log.
“Such a powerful ally,” Saeran mused. “I am glad you stand with me and not against me.” He sat on the ground facing her. “You may begin your instruction, master.”
Nia attempted a smile. It was feeble. Something weighed on her mind, and by the look of it, it wasn’t good. “I’ve had to think long and hard about the wisdom of continuing your lessons.”
“That does not bode well.”
“I have decided to carry on only as long as it does not interfere with your rule and my ability to aid you.”
“Nia,” Saeran said softly, “the only thing that could interfere with my rule is your absence.” He may have spoken foolishly last night, but he realized now he’d meant what he said. Saeran couldn’t be king on his own. The restrictions were too great, the responsibilities too heavy for any one person to shoulder. Without Nia, he’d make himself mad with the games and intrigues of court. Seven noble houses already vied for his favor. Saeran didn’t know what they would ultimately want, but he knew if they had their way, those nobles would manipulate everything and everyone in order to make themselves indispensible to him.
He’d seen it happen in Halden’s court, the way this master or that had only to mention his displeasure at a roving tribe making camp on his lands to have the king order them immediately removed and jailed, without reason other than appeasing a man who called himself friend. Saeran had no stomach for it. He needed Nia to keep him sane.
“I am here to advise and teach you,” she said. “A wizard is meant to be her king’s aide. But nothing more.”
“And if that is not enough?” The words were spoken before he could stop them. He didn’t regret them, though he knew he should.
Nia shook her head. “No. I…”
“Nia—”
She abruptly pushed to her feet and paced around the log to the other side. “You have already learned to listen; now I will teach you to understand what you hear.” She petted the sparrow gently. “Thank you for agreeing to help me.” It chirped in answer. To Saeran, she said, “Listen as you already know, but listen for meaning.”
Saeran met her gaze, but hers skittered away. She wouldn’t look him in the eye again. Something had frightened her. Had he done this? Saeran sighed. “I hope one day we have enough trust between us for you to tell me when something weighs on you.”
She said nothing.
The sparrow began to sing then, forcing Saeran’s mind to the task she set him. There was a certain pattern to the chirps and trills, but no meaning that he could discern. What was he saying?
“Don’t force it,” Nia said. “Calm your mind and let the meaning come to you.”
Saeran closed his eyes and relaxed, concentrating on nothing but the sparrow’s song. He listened and simply enjoyed. After a while, a slow smile spread across his face, and he chuckled as the melody began to make sense. The sparrow wasn’t singing, he was complaining! His nest was too far and his mate too fickle, his offspring perhaps not his own. He bemoaned the lack of food and the long winter cold that hurt his joints. This was an old bird as bitter as any man made grumpy by his age.
Saeran opened his eyes and looked at the bird with what he hoped was more sympathy than humor. “I am sorry for your plight, friend.”
The sparrow chirped grumpily at him. Let me not catch you near my nest, sonny. I’ll peck that grin off your face, king or no!
Nia thanked the sparrow before he could get more agitated and gave him a handful of seeds to eat while she turned her attention to Saeran. “Well done,” she praised. “You learn quickly.”
“Will I understand all animals now?”
Nia smiled. “If they wish to allow it, yes. If you work hard and practice often, you might even learn to understand the earth and the wind. The earth and anything of it never lies. Only humans can do that. You can trust the wind to tell you of coming riders. The earth will tell you when it is tired and cannot yield crops.”
“What of fire?”
“Fire is born and dies too quickly to know anything of use. But fire can sing as well as any songbird. It can lull you to sleep or roar a warning if someone intrudes when your back is turned.”
“Then I shall never be without one.”
Nia hugged the wolf skin closer around her. “Perhaps we should continue indoors. The next lesson is scrying.”
They walked back side by side in companionable silence. If the wind sensed his heart yearning, it did not say a word. If the earth felt the weight of his step, it held its silence.
And if his hand brushed Nia’s, lingering, he chose to pretend it meant nothing.
CHAPTER 9
Within the fortnight, Man
fred bid his son farewell and set out on his journey. It was a long ride to Lyria, and the caravan was prepared for anything, but Manfred planned to take shelter in an inn whenever they could. Nia asked the gods for blessing on their behalf that history might not repeat itself. She prayed Manfred’s journey was easy and that he arrived in good health and high spirits in his brother’s home.
“I expect weekly reports,” he told Nia before he left. “And leave nothing out, girl. I may not be king anymore, but I am still Saeran’s father.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“And you,” he said to Saeran. “You grew up too fast, my boy. But you grew up well. Fret none, I will be back in a few months. We will have all the time in the world then.” Manfred embraced his son, adding a quiet warning for his ears only. Nia still overheard. “Be careful,” he said.
“Yes, Father.”
With the old king on his way, Saeran didn’t hesitate to put Nia and himself to work, and she was surprised to find that what she’d told him weeks ago was still fresh in his mind. Saeran personally met with cooks, butchers, huntsmen, milliners, merchants, and travelers to learn what winter had wrought on Wilderheim. Only when he’d made certain no one would go to bed hungry in his kingdom did he turn his attention to everything else. He held court, consulted with guards and sentries, met with the masters and the nobles, heard complaints, carried out judgments, sent messages and received them.
Nia was present for all of it. Saeran called on her to sense truths and falsehoods, to see to it his orders were obeyed, and to advise. And once the day was done, the two of them met alone in a room Saeran had turned into a makeshift library where she taught him magic deep into the night.
Saeran proved to be a quick study. Once he caught on to the makings of a spell, he didn’t need it explained to him a second time. Nia taught him the rhythm of nature, how everything, from the smallest fly to the largest bear, had a place in the order of things. Often by observing a malady in one aspect of nature, one discovered the cause somewhere else. She taught him how to find leylines in the earth and follow them to points of convergence. The castle stood on one of these points. Here, the earth lent its strength to everything and magic wrought on these grounds was more potent and powerful than anywhere else.
Nia enjoyed teaching when her student was so attentive. But more than that, she enjoyed his company, which was very ill advised. Saeran made her smile and laugh. He seemed to know when she got hungry or tired before she noticed it herself. At times she would say something exactly the way Nico had said it to her and for a moment she could think of nothing except how much she missed him. Whenever her sentence faltered, Saeran noticed. He took her hand in his and reminisced with her about the old wizard until she no longer felt so alone.
But when it came time to say good night and she returned to her cavernous study and her lonesome bed, the feeling returned. It was only then that Nia could let herself acknowledge how much she ached inside. Every night Saeran burrowed deeper into her heart, and every morning she found it more difficult to cast him out, something she had to do if she hoped to get through the day. Very soon she feared there would be no denying him any longer.
Weeks passed quickly this way until Saeran announced he wanted to reform the advisory council before the spring equinox. There were seven members on the council, old men rewarded handsomely for their years of service, who’ve come to enjoy the privilege of the king’s audience too much. They no longer served the kingdom’s interests but their own, and Saeran wanted to be rid of them. Having made the announcement without consulting her, he’d put Nia in the awful position of having to defend the king’s decree while at the same time pacifying those who would be asked to return to their family lands.
If he thought this would relieve him of an unwanted burden, he was mistaken. The council was necessary, since no man, not king or wizard, could do everything on his own. Not only that, but since he’d appointed Nia to take care of the old council, he was forced to handpick the new members by himself. Nia would, of course, have to give her approval of each one he chose, but the most difficult task of sorting through the eager crowds of learned individuals was up to the king. Especially since she made her excuses every time he called her to the proceedings.
Nia didn’t feel guilty about that at all.
“It is impossible, Nia!” he complained one night, dropping his head to the table with a thud. “They are coming from everywhere like locusts! Charlatans, each and every one of them! I cannot trust the ones who come forward, and I cannot find the ones I would trust. You have to help me.” He slid out of his chair to the floor and knee walked to her side of the table. Grasping her hand, he looked into her eyes and begged, “Please, please. Save me from their wretchedness. It is your duty to protect your king.”
Nia was laughing too hard to answer.
Saeran grinned. “Or at the very least distract me for a while.”
“Now that I can do.”
“Thank you,” he cried with heartfelt gratitude. “What is tonight’s lesson?”
“Scrying.”
His head thudded to the table again.
“You wanted to learn,” she reminded him.
“Can you not teach me something else?”
“Hearing the wind tell you there is an army at your door will not help you if you cannot see how big the army is. Why must you continue to fight me on this?”
“Because it amuses me to see your brow pucker every time I do.”
Nia set the scrying bowl in front of him hard enough to splash water into his lap. “It is easy to listen to what is already there. To conjure something from nothing takes focus, strength of will. You must want something enough to will it into a vision.” Raising a pert eyebrow at him, she asked, “Is there nothing you want, my king, now that you have everything?”
Saeran gazed at her so long her good humor waned and her face grew warm. Without a word, he lowered his head to stare deep into the bowl.
“Look beyond the water and the vessel,” she guided. “They are only a window to what you seek. Hold the thought of what you wish to see in your mind, let it sink into the bowl and guide you to the vision.”
Nia let her voice trail off into silence. This time was different from all the other nights he’d attempted to See. This time she felt his will as if he was working a spell without words. The intensity of it grew, filling him, leaking out of him without direction. Nia couldn’t sense what it was, but she could lay a hand on his shoulder and look into the bowl with him. Thus connected, she Saw his vision without altering it.
She saw herself. Her own nightmare playing out before her just beneath the water’s surface. Eirwen’s face was as wrinkled as she remembered. The old woman, her caretaker, stood by the fire, listening to Nia shout. She didn’t say a word, merely stood there. And then the waters came.
Her fault. Nia dreamed of water, and water tore apart the life she’d known. Eirwen was dead. Their cottage gone. Nia was alone in the forest, with nowhere to go, no one to look after her. Nine years old.
She saw herself walk away, seek out the merchants passing by. She’d hidden from their sight but followed them into the village. And another after that. Until they led her to Frastmir. By then she’d been half starved, half asleep on her feet. Hiding took more strength than she possessed. The shadows slipped from her grasp as she was stealing a loaf of bread from the baker’s kitchen.
Nia’s hand slipped from Saeran’s shoulder. He caught it and held on as the vision continued. Nico stopped the bread thief, searched her soul and saw something there that Nia never knew. He never told her. She saw him taking her in, teaching her, giving her a home again. She saw herself smile, laugh, fall asleep in safety and comfort, but wake up screaming in the night.
Saeran squeezed her hand tighter when she tried to pull away.
The water showed her the night Saeran pledged himself to the Aegiran girl he didn’t even know. Nia hadn’t known it then, but the king had, as had Nico. That was the night he’d
taught her how to make lights dance and cast shadows. He’d sat at the table and watched her play with them and laugh, as if her joy was the only good thing there was.
Nia saw her first meeting with Saeran, the day in the woods, their first kiss. She saw this very moment, with Saeran clutching her hand as an anchor for the vision, and her looking over his shoulder. Then another vision began to form: a dark foggy image, the shape of a man and woman in a passionate embrace, and Nia couldn’t bear to see more.
With a wordless cry she knocked the bowl off the table, breaking the spell, and Saeran’s hold on her. Shaken, she went to the window and braced her hands against its ledge, breathing deeply of the night air.
“I am sorry,” Saeran said behind her. “You never told me where you came from. I just wanted to see.”
“I came from nothing,” she told him numbly. “I am no one.”
“Are you angry with me?”
Nia shook her head. “No.” He’d only done what she told him to do. There was nothing to fault him for. Saeran was not responsible for her past.
When he laid a hand on her shoulder, she allowed him to turn her around. “Then why do you weep?” he asked, brushing her tears away.
Nia had no answer to give him.
He didn’t demand one from her. Instead he drew her into his arms and held her until her tears dried. She watched the moon rise bright from behind the tree line. Its light brushed the fields and villages in silent affection. The wolves would be out to play tonight, she could feel them gathering. As the first howls rose up to the sky, Nia pulled away from Saeran. It was time to say good night.
She gathered her scrying bowl and crystals and half bowed to Saeran, taking her leave.
“Nia,” he said as she was passing through the door. “You are not no one.”
Nia closed the door behind her without saying a word.
CHAPTER 10
The Royal Wizard Page 8
