The Madness Project (The Madness Method)

by Bralick, J. Leigh

  And suddenly I realized that all I wanted was to be back at my cot in the Hole. Listening to Anuk and Link arguing till too late at night, watching Bugs trying to bait Pika and getting Hayli all sore over it…sparring with Jig in the cold night air as we had the last few nights, swapping insults as fast as strikes.

  Here I couldn’t breathe. I was warm and clean and tricked out in the finest fashion, standing at the swirling center of attention, but it felt like madness.

  I belong here, I told myself. I belong here.

  The words fell hollow in my thoughts. I knew I didn’t belong. I never had. Sometimes…sometimes I wasn’t even sure I wanted to belong.

  And did I want to belong with Coins and Hayli in the Hole? A raw, sick pang in my heart made me catch my breath. I couldn’t. I hated them. They were filthy, and ignorant, and…and yet they were more real than anyone I’d ever known.

  My head pounded. All the noise of conversation and laughter and the swirling music drifted into the corners of my thoughts, buried somewhere behind the keening voice that kept calling me…calling me…

  “Tarik?”

  The voice vanished, the noise of the ballroom rushed back. I jerked my head up and found myself facing Trabin, who was studying me with a faintly wary shadow in his eyes. He hadn’t moved from his place by the stairs, so somehow I must have made my way to him. I swallowed, hard, and nodded. Now that I’d heard firsthand the rumors about our difficult relationship, I couldn’t miss the constant buzz of attention we got, standing there side by side in strangely untroubled silence—strange, given everything I knew, and everything he didn’t realize I knew. With the chatter of the guests all around us, no one would have heard us speak, but for several long moments conversation felt unnecessary.

  Finally Trabin said, “Zagger got word to you.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” I said, watching Griff and Samyr dance. “Have your people gotten any closer to discovering the mole?”

  He shook his head, just barely. “I’ve got Kor and some of my other agents looking into it. It’s their damn line of work, you’d think they could get results.”

  “Griff said things were heating up. Are we headed for war?”

  He shifted and met my gaze evenly. “It looks that way. Tulay has sided with Istia against the Accord. And stars know they won’t go peacefully from a fight.”

  I resisted the urge to put my hands in my pockets and swear. Like a good prince I stood straight and still, one hand behind my back, head up.

  “Tulay. What does Her Majesty think of that?” I asked, referring to my mother by her title as I always did in public. “I thought they were our allies.”

  He made a little grimace. “If they keep on this track, there will be no alliance to speak of. Her Majesty is prepared to break ties with her former country if it comes to that, but I know she hopes it won’t. The Istian ambassador will be arriving soon for a last attempt at negotiations, and we are supposed to have a summit meeting in a few weeks with all the world leaders who will come, to try to end this thing peacefully, but I don’t have high hopes for it. And that would be just the sort of opportunity…”

  His voice trailed off, and his face paled a little.

  “You’re worried it won’t just be a war?” I asked, quietly.

  “Yes,” he said. “That Ghost who shot me…I doubt he acted on a whim.”

  “You think Istia sent him? Or Tulay?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Not Rivano?” I asked.

  He met my gaze. “Honestly, I’m not convinced Rivano isn’t an Istian plant.”

  “Is that why you’ve got Kor greeting the guests tonight?”

  “It is,” he said. “Did he prepare you well enough? I know I had to pull him away from helping you, but I needed him here for another job.”

  “I’m still alive,” I said. “Out there you have to learn and adapt, or the city will devour you. He taught me how to adapt.”

  “I asked him how you were doing on gathering information, and he passed along his reports. Good work so far.”

  I nodded, anxiety squirming in my stomach.

  “I had my patrol report on the day of Griff’s crash. One of them mentioned finding a tramp girl on the grounds and giving her the boot. You never mentioned to me that you’d been in a motorcar accident with someone like that.”

  Oh, God. No.

  “It didn’t seem relevant to anything at the time,” I said. “I’d forgotten all about it until you just mentioned it. You think she might involved?”

  “Could be. Are there many girls in Rivano’s little company? Or at the Hole? Would you remember who she was?”

  I swallowed back bile, offering a faint smile to a curtseying guest as she passed by. “Oh, stars, I don’t know. I was so out of sorts with Griff’s crash. I’ll try to figure it out, though.”

  “I was going to call in Zagger,” he said. “He might remember some other details about her, since he’s the one who crashed into her.”

  I nodded. “He’s got a stellar memory, too.”

  I barely managed to hold in a sigh of relief as one of the Court Ministers came threading his way toward us, looking keen on a conversation with the King. I knew my cue when I saw one, and turned to take my leave.

  “We’ll talk in the morning,” Trabin said.

  “I promised the reporters an audience. And after that…” My voice trailed off, and I backed a step away. “I’ll try to put in a few appearances the next few days, but then I’ve got to stay away. Zagger will know how to get in touch with me if you need to send me any information. I’m sorry. If I stay here…it’s all over. Everything I’ve gained.”

  To my surprise, he nodded. “Be careful,” he said, and turned to greet his minister.

  I bowed and retreated back into the crowd, and finally made my way out onto the terrace. Only a few minutes later Samyr found me, bundling herself in the fur stole one of the footmen offered her. She slipped up beside me, holding the fur closed at her throat.

  “Not very fashionable to hide out on the balcony all alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” I said, and I meant to soften the words with a smile, but the smile never surfaced.

  “What’s wrong, Tarik? You seem…changed, somehow. Different.”

  “I suppose that’s what seeing the world does to a person.”

  “Really, what nonsense.” She laid her hand on my cheek, meeting my gaze steadily. “It’s your eyes. I don’t know what it is. There’s a hardness there that I don’t remember.”

  I didn’t reply. I just turned away, moving free of her touch. For a while we stood side by side in silence, and I could feel her gaze fixed on me.

  “Stars, Tarik,” she murmured. “Things were so hard when you were away. I missed you so much. And now…I don’t understand. It’s like you don’t even care. Like we’re all nothing. Don’t you care about anyone?”

  I stiffened, but kept standing still, hands clasped behind my back, staring out at the city. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to tell her the truth, or gently break her heart. Because somewhere along the way, Samyr, Griff and I had stopped being just the childhood friends who got each other into mischief. Samyr had changed. Grown up, maybe. I’d tried to ignore it for so long, but I knew it was cruel. Cruel to keep drawing her along, knowing that every smile I gave her was a snare.

  “I don’t suppose I do,” I said, finally, the words burning in my throat.

  She gave a little stifled gasp. “You don’t mean that.”

  I turned toward her. Her grey eyes were bright, shining in the lamp light, the mist like diamonds gathering in her hair and on the fur. There had been a time I’d fancied her. I’d even imagined I loved her. But I couldn’t tell myself that any more. I’d loved a shadow, an idea, probably in just the same way she cared about me.

  Somehow, a little bitter voice in my mind whispered, it didn’t really matter. Because one day, if I survived this madness and didn’t get disinherited along the way, I would b
e King. I’d be expected to marry a noble woman, if not some foreign royal, and Samyr and I had been paired off for as long as we both could remember. Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe I had no choice.

  “Do you really care about me, Samyr?” I asked. “Or do you just care about the idea of me, because your whole life, that’s what everyone told you to do?”

  “What’s gotten into you?” she whispered, fierce, tears trembling like rage on her lashes. “Maybe I don’t care about you, if this is what you are now. You’re not the same person who left a month ago.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m not.”

  Suddenly I wanted to comfort her, because she looked like the world was collapsing around her. But even as I reached out to touch her arm, she batted my hand away and retreated into the palace without a word or backward glance.

  I sighed and leaned my elbows on the balustrade, not even caring if it soaked the sleeves of my dress coat. Maybe Samyr was right. Maybe I just didn’t care about anyone, or anything. I had a hollow in my chest where my heart should have been—and I didn’t even care about that.

  “Did you fight with Samyr?” a soft voice asked behind me, after moments or minutes had drifted past.

  I turned and found my mother standing in the doorway, watching me with a strange sadness in her eyes somewhere between pity and rebuke. I bit my lip and turned back to the railing, because seeing her made me feel vulnerable in every way that I couldn’t afford to be. When she came beside me and laid her hand over mine, I shuddered and drew a long, unsteady breath.

  “She wants something from me I can never give her,” I murmured. “She’s right about me. I’ve changed so much. I don’t…” My voice trailed off, and I shifted to meet her gaze. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “You’re my son,” she said quietly.

  I swallowed, hard. “But not Trabin’s.”

  Her eyes widened, just briefly, then she turned to face the city. “Ah.”

  “Kor told me.”

  “Oh, did he? I’ll have to speak with him.”

  “I know about him, too,” I said.

  “And your father?”

  I nodded, slowly. “I didn’t understand why the rumors of his death upset you so much before.” I shifted my hand over to clasp hers. “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, Kor probably only told you the part of it he knew. I’m sure he made it sound like I was quite the free woman, didn’t he?”

  “No, he really didn’t,” I said warmly, frowning at the shine of her eyes.

  She sighed. “I met Eyid long before he became Godar. He came to Tulay when I was a girl, about your age, as part of a diplomatic envoy. We were both young. Young fools. I fell in love with him. So much in love with him.” She smiled, a rarer smile than I’d ever seen on her face. “He was wild as lightning, strong and determined, and so foolishly proud.” Her hand reached up and took my chin. “You are so much like him, Tarik. You have his spirit.”

  My cheeks warmed and I turned away. I didn’t see anything in myself that might have resembled him.

  “What happened, then? Why didn’t you marry him?”

  “I would have,” she said. “We made promises to each other. But the Island Wars came, and Tulay entered a treaty with Cavnal, with my marriage to Prince Trabin being a core part of the negotiations. I vowed I would try to love him, but…I loved Eyid first. Before I left Tulay for the wedding, Istia sent an envoy to my father’s Court to declare their neutrality in the war. And of course they sent their Godar’s second in command. They sent Eyid.” She bent her head, her gloved finger running over the stone balustrade. “I wish you didn’t have to know my weakness, Tarik,” she murmured. “But I have you now, so I will never regret it.”

  My throat felt strangely hoarse. I tried to clear it before asking, “And Trabin never knew?”

  “We were wed three days later,” she said with a strange, rueful smile. “Before that day at Ridgemark, he never even suspected you were not his son. But then, you had the magery gene, which meant only one thing.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “If I’d understood one tenth of what it would have meant for you, I would never—”

  “I know, love. I never blamed you.” She glanced up at me, drawn into a thoughtful silence for what felt like minutes. Then she smiled faintly and said, “If I could wish one thing for you, Tarik, it’s that you might fall in love with a mage like you.”

  I blushed, fiercely, a little prickle of cold tracing over me, and I had to clear my throat again to find my voice. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve tried to love Trabin as I should,” she murmured. “And I am his wife and will be till I die, and I would want nothing else.”

  She said it with a pain in her voice, though, and I marveled at how strong she’d been, for so many years, loving a man whom she knew despised her, all for the sake of the kingdom. And…for me. She was braver and stronger than Trabin would ever be.

  “I will be honest,” she went on, “there has always been something so safe about loving Trabin, something…ordinary. There is a power and a force when two mages fall in love like nothing I could ever explain. You would have to experience it yourself. It’s like the universe itself can’t contain that love.” She cupped my face in her hands, her eyes searching mine. “I want you to feel that someday. We are mages, Tarik. Don’t hide behind a lie because you are afraid of the truth. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or the next day, but I know you will find out who you are, and will be that person with all your strength.”

  “I find I’m rather afraid of the person I might be. I’m afraid of what I might do,” I said, my voice a scant whisper, threatening to break with every word. I leaned out over the balustrade, feeling the wind tearing my hair. “I have these headaches,” I said. “They get worse and worse. Every time I do anything with my magic, it feels like my head is being crushed. Sometimes I hear things, but I know they aren’t real. It must be my magic is causing it, but I’m not sure why.” I glanced at her. “I was supposed to ask you about Eyid’s magic. And yours.”

  “Well,” she said, studying me with some alarm. “You should know that being a mage is so much more than just having a gift. A gift is an expression of magic, but not the fullness of it. Often a gift will show where a person is proficient. For instance, a Flint might excel in magic involving the manipulation of matter. A Mask is better at magic that controls people’s perceptions of reality.” She sighed. “As for me and Eyid, well. I’m only what they call a Maven; I have two gifts. I’m a Blood and a Knack…though not a very good Knack,” she added with some chagrin. “But Eyid was an Ace. He was the most powerful mage I’ve ever known, but he complained of the headaches, too. Feeling…broken, out of place. He was also a Mask. Maybe that is where you got your gift.”

  “My gift,” I echoed, the words sounding strangely lost in the darkness.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know what I am.”

  “Darling,” she said. “You’re a Mask.”

  “Yes, and then came the day that I was afraid of being discovered, so I became a Cloak. And I nearly got sliced open by a pike and became…I don’t even know what. Something that could control objects I wasn’t even touching.”

  “A Telekine,” she whispered.

  “What am I?”

  I gripped my hand into a fist, tighter and tighter, while the silence dragged out. Then she sighed and covered my fist with her hand.

  “It seems you’re an Ace, like he was,” she murmured. “Poor darling. I know how hard it was for him. But you can bear it. You’re strong like him.”

  “Sometimes I don’t feel very strong. Sometimes I wish I had no gift. I wish I was just Tarik, with none of these lies…”

  I jerked away, pressing my hand to my forehead. To my surprise, I heard her laugh softly.

  “What?” I muttered.

  “You would be bored sick in minutes,” she said. “You are nothing ordinary, Tarik. Remember that.”

  “
But all I am is a lie.” I leaned my arms on the balustrade. Then, for no reason whatsoever, I turned my head to grin at her. “One of Kantian’s girls is a mage.”

  Her eyes danced. “The one from the motorcar accident?”

  I blushed and nodded. “What would she do if she knew the truth about me, Mother? How I’d lied to her? How many times I’ve betrayed her family…” I bowed my head, swearing.

  She didn’t rebuke me, but laid her hand on my shoulder. “Does she care for you?”

  “Oh, hell, I don’t even know,” I said. “I treat her so terribly sometimes…but it’s just because I can’t…”

  “My sweet boy. I understand. Listen to me carefully a moment.” She lowered her voice, drawing me closer to her. “There are things going on in this palace that worry me. I’m a Tulian mage who sympathized with Istia, understand? Cavnal is my home now, and I wish no harm to come to her…but I’m afraid that there are wheels in motion here that will threaten everything else I hold dear. And I fear for the mages in this city. Trabin won’t let them stay free for long, and I’m terrified of what the scientists are doing in their Ministry. You have to find out what is going on. And, darling,” she said, fixing me with an intense gaze. “I’m afraid you might have to make a choice, and it won’t be easy.”

  Chapter 7 — Hayli

  The Kalethelia festival was a riot of purple and gold and golden noise, but all I could think about was how the last time I’d been in this plaza, Prince Tarik had gotten in a fight for me and chatted with me like we were chums. Anuk made a smart comment early on about keeping eyes out for the Prince, but Jig just laughed and dared the sky to send Tarik his way. Coins bought me a Kalethelia cake and we sat together on the wall, watching the crowds.

  “Wonder where Derrin’s got to tonight,” I said after a bit, munching all around the edges of the cake where the sticky glaze was the thickest.

  “Reckon Kantian’s got him off pulling the old peek and speak,” Coins said.

  “The old what?”

  He winked at me. “Spy and report, right? Keeping an eye on that crazy bird Rivano.”