My spirits sank.
“I’ll take her,” Johai offered.
They shared a look, and a silent message passed between them. I considered confronting them, but they were being too accommodating, and I couldn’t risk this chance to get closer to Adair.
“Very well, I shall call my factor and a scribe. There’s much to prepare.” Damara clapped her hands together and headed to her desk.
Shelves overflowing with jars of strange liquids and tomes falling apart from their spines cramped the Magiker’s room and filled it from floor to ceiling. Bundles of herbs hung by an open window, and the room stank of some pungent mixture in a bowl on the scrubbed wooden table.
“What happened to her now?” he said without looking up from the root he was dicing up.
“We’ve come to get her examined, master.”
“I’m master now, am I?” he clucked at Johai.
Johai didn’t reply. I glanced sidelong at Johai, wondering where the sudden honorific had come from. Had Johai studied beneath the Magiker once?
The Magiker sighed and glanced up at us. “Come in, then.” He walked over to a seat where a large orange cat slept curled in a ball. “Move, you infernal animal.”
The deposed creature hissed and sauntered away. It launched itself into the air and landed on a bookshelf that wobbled before settling. The cat spun around several times before it settled in and supervised us with its yellow eyes.
“How may I serve?” the Magiker said wryly.
Johai remained silent and left me to explain.
“I’ve been requested by the prince to perform a reading, and you proscribed that I did not ply my gifts. I’ve come to get your blessing to do so.”
He huffed and hobbled over to one of his many overladen bookshelves. He skimmed the titles before withdrawing a worn book.
“You’ll need to leave.” He turned and pointed a crabbed hand at Johai. I was secretly thrilled at the chance to question him alone and maybe break the necklace’s spell.
“My lady asked that I stay with her,” Johai replied.
“Your lady doesn’t hold any sway here. I’ll do what I’ve been asked and no more. I am still the king’s magiker!”
“I’ll be waiting in the hall.” Johai bowed his head and left.
“Foolish boy—thought I taught him better,” the Magiker mumbled as he left.
The excitement that coursed through me confirmed my suspicions. “You taught Johai?”
“Aye, all the good my teaching did him. Such a waste. He could have been my greatest achievement,” he murmured as he shuffled about the room, collecting herbs from the bundles and extracting things from drawers and referring back to the decaying book. Had he taught Johai how to make this charm around my neck? The questions were at the tip of my tongue, yet I hesitated. They had a history; could I truly trust the Magiker?
“He trained under you to be a magiker?” Why would a duke undergo a magiker’s training? Unless my suspicion that he was a disposed duke was correct, and he had no other option.
He had quit; I wondered why.
“That’s none of your business, girl!” he snarled, realizing my game.
I clamped my mouth shut.
He harrumphed and said, “I will give you one piece of advice: don’t ask too many questions if you want to keep your head.”
I contemplated his words as he gathered ingredients. He gave sound advice, if a bit alarming. Perhaps it was best if I reserved my questions. Maybe he, too, was not free to assist me. Glass vials clinked as he set them down on the table. He ambled over to me with a mortar and pestle in his hand. The mortar held a combination of herbs I could merely guess at. He drizzled oil into the mix and then stirred the contents. Using two fingers, he scooped out the concoction and offered it to me.
“Eat this.”
I sniffed it, and an acidic tang filled my nostrils. “What is it?”
“Do you want my approval to scry or not?”
I gulped and took the greenish goop from his hand. I put it to my lips, closed my eyes, and popped it into my mouth. The bitter brew had the consistency of grit. I choked it down. “What now?”
He motioned to a stone vessel on the table. “Look.”
I walked over to it in a trance. The surface shifted with changing images. I grasped each side of the vessel and looked deep within. I slipped into the vision like a favorite dress.
Two boys ran along a beach, one with hair the color of the sun, the other with hair dark as night.
They played tag or some other game boys like to play in which they can hit one another with sticks. The dark-haired boy ran ahead of the blond boy, and the latter struggled to keep up and stumbled. He fell to the ground, arms outstretched as if he expected to take flight.
The first boy paused, waiting for him to rise, but when he did not, he shrugged and ran ahead. Concerned for the boy, I approached him. His chest rose and fell, but otherwise he lay still. I placed my hand on his back, and he twisted around to grab my wrist. I lurched back in surprise. The boy upturned his face to me, and I screamed. His face had been replaced by that of the specter.
The screaming continued even after the vision ended. Who is screaming? The Magiker pressed a cool cloth to my forehead and tutted over me. I clamped my hand over my mouth to cease the unending screech erupting from me, while my mind processed everything in a hazy and disconnected state. What did it mean? Who was that boy?
“At least you didn’t collapse,” he said, as if it were of consolation.
Johai burst in, his eyes wide as he scanned the room.
“Maea, are you injured?” He came over to me and cupped my face in his hands and upturned my gaze to him. The trancelike state of my vision still clung to me, making my mind sluggish. The screaming stopped at least. I never realized how blue his eyes are, I thought. Strange to think at a time like this. I reached out to stroke his face, and for a moment I thought he would lean in to my touch.
When he was not scowling, he was handsome. Neat, light brows framed his startled eyes. They were a dark blue like the night sky.
“Don’t be a fool,” the Magiker chastised. “’Twas the girl’s vision.”
Johai withdrew, and I regretted it until my mind and body were once more in sync. I stood and distanced myself from him. Had it been anyone else, I would have apologized for my wanton behavior, but I feared drawing any more attention to my actions with Johai. Tension settled between us, and I sidled closer to the Magiker’s table, hoping distance would ease some of my unease. It did not.
Johai’s expression gave nothing away, as if naught passed between us. Maybe I had misinterpreted his words and he really did feel nothing for me. The thought gave me some comfort. Neither of them asked me what I saw, which was a relief as I could not make sense of its meaning.
“You’re well enough to serve, I suppose. Continue to take herbs for headaches, and no more than one appointment a week.”
I listened with half an ear. My mind raced with my vision and my actions afterward. What did it all mean? What connection did the boy have with the specter, if any at all? How was the specter connected to me? For I suspected he was, or else he would not haunt my visions.
Johai waited for me outside. “Ready?” he asked, any hint of tenderness gone from his mien. He turned away without waiting for my answer.
I stared at the back of his head and his white hair braided down his back. Why is his hair white? I wondered. Surely he was not born that way.
“Lady Maea.”
I turned towards the speaker and found Adair waving to me. The young man who had brawled with Count Braun strode towards me.
“Well met, Your Hi—Adair,” I greeted him and blushed at how I stumbled over the lack of formality. It vexed me that I fell over my words when I was around the prince. The last thing I needed was to be caught up in his web as well.
“Well met, Maea.” He smirked at me, and surprise lit his features. “And you as well, cousin.”
I turned, looki
ng for whom Adair addressed, and found Johai. He glared at Adair for several tense minutes.
“Are you going to stare, or are you going to say hello, Johai?”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Johai replied.
I could do little more than gape at the interchange. I had hoped Adair might hold the key. This turn of events was beyond my ken. I found my sense and blurted, “Cousin?”
Adair smiled at me. “You didn’t know? Johai’s father, Prince Garrison, was my mother’s older brother.”
I rounded on Johai. “You’re not a duke! You’re a Prince of the Blood?”
“Oh no, he’s just a duke,” Adair supplied. “He has no right to rule in Danhad, nor did his father. Is that right, son of a second son? Not that they would let you with your mixed blood.”
I clamped my mouth shut to prevent staring like a slack-jawed fool.
“Did you have a reason for coming here?” Johai asked.
Adair smiled and folded his arms over his chest. “Still bitter? A pity. I hoped we could finally put the past behind us.” Then to me, he said, “Maea, I have been sent to find you on a most important mission. May I speak to you, alone?”
My mind buzzed with a hundred different thoughts. What I wanted was a moment to escape and process this revelation and try to discover what this all meant. I did not have that luxury as Adair and his companion watched me expectantly. Johai motioned to place a hand upon me, presumably to stop me, but I cut him off, stepping out of his reach. “Of course, Your Highness.”
We withdrew out of earshot, and Johai’s angry stare followed my every step, burning into the back of my head. I was not sure why, but a fresh sting of betrayal pricked me. Why did he conceal his identity? What was he hiding?
Once we were well out of earshot, Adair’s smile faded, and he took on a serious countenance. “Maea, I’m sorry to be the one to deliver this news, but I did not trust anyone else to tell you delicately.”
“What is the matter?” His concern warmed me, though I felt a touch wary. I had little experience with candid concern thus far in Keisan.
“The council has come to a decision on Count Braun’s case.”
I held my breath and grabbed his arm for support. I had not expected the news to come from him.
I withdrew my touch once I realized what I had done, thinking it inappropriate. He smiled and took my hand in both of his. The intimacy of the gesture should have been inappropriate, yet I enjoyed it. His presence comforted me.
“It will be death by beheading at dawn.”
I am not sure what I expected, satisfaction, relief, justice? I felt none of those things. No, I felt sad and guilty. I saved Sabine’s life at the cost of another.
“I see,” I choked out.
A tear ran down my cheek, and Adair brushed it away with his thumb. “You pity him?”
I shook my head and thought to pull away from him. His seeming concern could very well be a way to catch me off guard and use me just the same as the woman at the concert. I would need to be on my guard around him.
“Yes and no, ’tis my doing that led him to that sentence.”
“No. He plotted against the crown and our allies. Treason led him to where he goes.”
I nodded my head and wiped the rest of my tears away with a handkerchief. “You’re right.”
“No more tears?”
I smiled at him; it was difficult not to. “No more.”
“Good. I also have word from Sabine. She asked if you would accompany her to the execution, for support.”
I wondered why she had not asked me herself. He must have read the question on my face because he added, “I insisted upon being the one to extend the invitation.”
My stomach churned, and I saw why he called his womanizing the hunt because I knew then I had inadvertently put myself in the prince’s sights, and I am not sure I was adverse to it.
“I will. It’s the least I can do.” I declined to answer the second part, lest I say something I would regret.
“Excellent, now that business is out of the way, I’d like for you to meet someone. Jon!” He waved the young man from the Hall of Entertainment over.
He strode over with an easy gait and left Johai behind. Johai caught my eye, and his expression turned my blood cold. I did not owe him allegiance. Even if he cared for me, I did not have to pretend to care for him in return. He was the one who kept secrets. I had done nothing wrong. Then why did I feel as if I had?
“Jon, this is Lady Maea whom I told you about.”
My brows rose towards my hairline. He had spoken about me to others? Most likely in boasting.
“But you did not tell me how beautiful she is.” Jon bowed much deeper than my status called for.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
He laughed. “I am no lord, merely a merchant’s son. And Adair tells me you are more than a mere court lady.”
I recalled him referring to himself as the heir to House Sixton, but perhaps that had been a lie?
“Perhaps I am not. It has yet to be proven what I am.” I peered at Adair, who smiled back at me.
“Well, if you ever prove yourself, I would love to be one of those you show favor upon.” He bowed again, and when he straightened, a pin caught my eye, a silver tree upon a navy shield encircled in silver.
“I look forward to it,” I replied.
Johai, seemingly grown impatient with my cavorting, came over and grabbed me by the wrist. “Maea, it’s time to go.”
I thought to protest, but something in his icy stare left no room for argument. I cast a final look in Adair’s direction. He had his arms folded over his chest and a thoughtful expression. He waved to me with a smirk. I had the impression that Johai had thwarted Adair’s plans for the afternoon. I was not certain if I should be relieved or disappointed.
After suffering being dragged for a time, I dug in my heels and refused to move on. Johai rounded on me, and a vein ticked in his jaw. I wrenched my arm free of his grasp and took a step backwards.
“Do not presume to treat me like that again,” I said.
“Should I have left you to be the prince’s next conquest?”
I met his gaze despite guilt nagging at me to admit he had been right. Instead, I turned it onto Johai. “What does it matter to you, Johai?”
He tightened his jaw as if biting down on a reply. “If I were free to answer that question, I would, gladly. For now I will say: be careful with the prince if you wish to keep your virtue.”
He turned and strode away, leaving me to contemplate his declaration.
Chapter Eight
Before dawn broke the next day, we gathered. The moon sunk below the horizon, and the sky remained grey. I huddled in my shawl as we waited along a barren cliff top. The ocean thundered far below, and the wind howled a lament. Beside me, Sabine stood still, her gaze focused on the dais at the cliff’s edge, where two blocks sat, a half circle carved out of each of them. I tried not to think what would rest in those blocks.
We did not speak, words seemed inappropriate. A streak of orange lit the sky as guards led the prisoners out. A massive man, the top portion of his face covered in a mask, mounted the dais. He hefted an axe larger than my head, and I shivered at the sight.
Count Braun and Lady Braun parted the crowd, heads held high, as if they went to take their thrones and not to lose their heads. Those gathered were silent as death, no shouts for blood, no one cried out in despair. I learned later that Count Braun’s wife had passed and his sons had all died in the war. Lady Braun was all he had left, and she would follow him into the afterlife.
They took the dais, and guards forced them to their knees. Count Braun looked across the crowd, and our eyes met. Hate and vengeance spilled out from his glare. I wept.
I am sorry.
I never wanted their blood on my hands. I wanted to save the princess from a cruel fate.
If I had thought through the repercussions, perhaps I could have spared all their lives, bu
t it was too late now.
Guards locked shackles on their wrists to iron rings at the base of the blocks, keeping them bent over. The executioner stepped up to Count Braun. The count closed his hands into fists and closed his eyes. He would not beg; he would die with dignity. The executioner pulled back the axe, his muscles straining. I closed my eyes, unable to watch it. The axe fell with a thud, and then another and another. I wept all the harder. I would have thought it would be a clean cut, but it was not so. Count Braun had been a large man, and it took several swings of the axe before the executioner finished.
Lady Braun held decorum nearly until the end. She closed her eyes, stoic. The executioner walked towards her, leaving the decapitated body of her father behind. She trembled as he neared, and though I wished I could do something to save her, I knew I could not. The executioner stopped behind her, stance set, and then she cried out.
“Have mercy! I was only being a dutiful daughter!” She searched the crowd and found Sabine and I. “Princess, we were friends, confidantes. Believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you.”
Sabine did not turn away; she watched without a word. The executioner swung backwards, and I closed my eyes.
“Plea—” Her pleas were cut off by the thud of the axe. Her death came swiftly, just two strikes of the axe.
I watched them gather the headless bodies, forcing myself to face what my meddling had done. They tossed them over the cliff, into the sea’s embrace. I said a prayer to the Goddess and hoped she would take mercy on them.
Who will have mercy on me?
I joined Sabine back in chambers afterwards for a breakfast neither of us had a stomach for. Sabine set down her untouched cup of tea and said, “Lady Maea, there’s an opening in my attendants. Lady Braun—” Her voice caught. “Lady Braun was one of my ladies-in-waiting. I was wondering if you’d be willing to take the position.”
The proposition caught me off guard. Why me? I am of no consequence. I am not certain I am of any noble lineage. I did not feel I should; the reason there was a position available was because I had caused her death.
Diviner's Prophecy Page 8
