by J. B. Markes
"Whatever you can say to my father, you can say to me," the young girl said.
"Why, thank you, apprentice," Gustobald said flatly as he showed her his back, affording her the opportunity to glare at him without reprisal. It was a quick exchange, but I liked the girl instantly. When she realized I was watching, she looked down and adjusted her pale yellow robes. Gustobald was none the wiser.
"Miss Ives tells me you've made progress." Inspector Raines placed his hat back on top of his head. "She says the prince is alive. Are you able to find him? Was he abducted?"
"Either that or he absconded," Gustobald replied, furrowing his brow at me. "Whatever the case, you have no need of a necromancer."
Gustobald's words soothed my tired soul. I could get back to studying without fear of distraction. Whatever the necromancer thought I would gain from this real-world experience, it had so far amounted to nothing more than a surreal nightmare and a stress headache. I only needed to convince him to forget today's altercation.
"My father believes the prince is dead," Airlea said.
"Well, there you have it," Gustobald said. "The astrologists have spoken. I know I feel better."
"They've had their chance," Raines said, missing the wizard's dry wit and ignoring Airlea's scoff. "Mysticism is no match for a rational mind. Are you not the greatest wizard-detective of our time?"
"The only one," I said, but didn't elucidate when Gustobald cocked his head at me.
"You've been invited to aid the king in his time of need. You wouldn't abandon him now; there's too much at stake. King Eamon has rivals, near and far, who would be more than happy to see the line of kings broken. They strike from the shadows, places beyond even my reach. It is our duty to see this through to the end."
"And, of course, I will," Gustobald said.
"Oh." The inspector's surprise mirrored my own. "Very good."
"I thought we were leaving," I whispered, drawing a betrayed glance from the inspector.
"I can't very well leave now, can I?" the wizard asked. "Not with my honor on the line. If I'm here for a week, we might as well solve their little problem."
I put my back to the inspector to disguise my irritation. "What about my little problem, Gustobald?"
"Now, don't you worry about that," he said as I dropped my shoulders in defeat. "We will beat it. Trust me." When my mood didn't improve, he gripped me tightly by the shoulder. "Trust me, girl."
There was a dull throbbing in the pit of my stomach. It's not that I didn't trust him; I just lacked confidence in his understanding of the word 'help'. When I saw the inspector's continued confusion, I held out my hand to reassure him. "Where do we start?"
"With motive," Raines replied. "Who has the most to gain? Or the most to lose."
"Who would want to kill Prince Jasper?" Airlea asked. "He was loved by all."
"He's not dead," Gustobald said. "Only one man maintains that, and he fled our company minutes ago. There is sorcery at play here, and precious few spellcasters in the capital."
"Slow down, Gustobald," I said. "Are you sure you're not letting recent developments color your judgment?"
"Miss Ives is right," the inspector said. "Man has no need of spellcraft to commit murder. Use your tricks to ease the discovery, but with or without magic the question will ever remain the same: why?" Raines pulled up the collar of his long coat and nodded respectfully to Sentinel Chalke before approaching Gustobald. "I'm following up on a lead that looks promising. I'll be in touch if it pans out. Stay focused."
Once Raines left, Gustobald lost interest in the situation, as he did so often when there was no one to impress with his boastings. After all, Airlea was a mere apprentice and his charms had long worn off on me. "I have work to do," he said quietly in my ear. "For your benefit. I shall need complete privacy for the next twelve hours or so. Do what you can with your time." He rolled his eyes in the sentinel's direction. "Well, fearless guardians, the necromancer is off to his lair!"
Chalke kept Gustobald in sight as the old man retreated, but paused long enough to snap his fingers at the guard Lionell and point at me before disappearing through the doorway. Lionell dutifully stayed behind, snickering at my discomfort.
The apprentice Airlea was replacing the furniture, so I gave her a hand. We worked in silence, but she was grateful for the help.
"Thank you for what you did back there," I said. "Gustobald can be quick-tempered, but I've never taken him for a duelist. It's not like him at all."
"He seems easily offended," she said.
"Well, that part is like him, I guess."
"My father is quick to anger, too," she said as she slid the last stool up to its table. "And he's quite traditional. He never backs down from a challenge. But it's rare that he crosses words with another wizard. Dueling is such a barbaric custom. You must see enough of that at the academy."
I thought back to my own impromptu duel with my best friend Regina. Before that day, I might have said the same thing. As a mancer, a good portion of my training was spent becoming a better duelist, but I never considered myself aggressive enough put it to any practical use. I learned a lot about myself that day, and every day since.
"My father says you study there—at the academy."
I looked down at my dirty travel robes and shook my head. "I used to be an apprentice at the Tower of Hands, but I lost my position over a month ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She scanned the room for more furniture to move, but there was none to be found. "But you're studying under Mr. Pitch, right?"
"Necromancy, yes." I let her go back to straightening her yellow robes until I was certain she had no more awkward questions. "Anyway. I hope we can work together to resolve this situation."
"One of them is likely to die if we don't," she agreed. "As their seconds, we have a week to figure it out. Let me know if you have any ideas, particularly the nonviolent type."
I nodded and headed toward the door, unsure where I would go with Gustobald needing our only room to himself.
"Miss Ives," she continued before I had even taken three steps. "I'm about to pay a visit to the princess. We meet regularly and she has many questions about magic. And I myself have never been to the academy. Perhaps you'd like to join us. We could both listen to some of your stories."
"That sounds like fun," I said. "I'd like that."
She looked me up and down and I drew my tatty brown cloak about me, but she just shook her head. "You can wear some of mine. I have plenty I don't even wear." She turned to Lionell and waved playfully with the back of her hand. "Please wait outside, sir. We'll be with you in a moment."
Chapter 7
Academy robes are naturally close-fitting so as not to impede the wizard in her spellcasting or other duties, and Airlea's physical stature was similar to mine—or so I thought—so it was startling how loose her robes were on me. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to gauge how much weight I had lost in the past month. The robes were exquisite quality, so light and smooth against my skin I might have been wearing nothing at all. She caught me rubbing the fabric and fought back a smile.
"It's been a while since I wore yellow," I said. "These are much nicer than my old robes though."
"They're silk," she said.
"Impossible." I resisted the momentary urge to throw them off. "How did you get it? I've never seen anything bigger than a handkerchief. They must have cost a fortune!"
"The material is made from an insect—a moth or something." She shrugged her shoulders. "Father says silk is plentiful on the southern continent. They kept it a secret for hundreds of years until the academy diviners scried their harvesting process. Now we can make it ourselves."
I stood in front of Airlea's large looking glass, running a hand through my short hair and placing my satchel delicately over my shoulder to avoid creasing the fabric. Unsurprisingly, there were no patches sewn onto the chest. I swept my fingers across the place where my starburst crest would be stitched if I were still a manifester in
good standing. In the reflection of the glass, I watched Airlea fasten her own brooch to her breast.
"Is that an astrologist's symbol?" I asked, moving in for a closer look. It was as rich as the rest of her wardrobe; a single star-shaped emerald sparkled with a spell of perpetual light, forming the center of a gold-ringed star. I completely forgot the silk I was wearing. "I don't think there are any astrologists left at the magic school."
"There are at least two," she said, laughing. "Of course, not at the school. But anyway, officially we are academy mages. I've never even been to the Tower of the Eye. Don't tell anyone."
"How did you learn?"
"I followed in my father's footsteps. He trained me from a novice. But there must be many more at the divination school. Actually, I should be wearing the eye on my chest but father is very proud, as you've already seen. He had this star made special for me. The perks of having a court wizard as your master. You must think I'm spoiled."
"No—a little." I couldn't help but smile. She faked a hurt expression and my resolve broke, and for a few seconds we were lost in laughter.
Once we were sufficiently outfitted and Airlea's hair was to her liking, we left her chamber, which adjoined that of the Royal Seer's. We passed into the hallway where the guard Lionell was faithfully awaiting us. His eyes darted back and forth between our identical robes, but he held his tongue. He trailed us through the serpentine halls of the palace, through several guarded doorways along the way. Those on duty bowed their heads to the Royal Seer's daughter as if she were royalty herself. At the Academy Magus, it was easy to forget how well-respected magic was in the outside world. We came out into a bright courtyard overlooking sunlit gardens and I was instantly disoriented.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"It's tea time," she replied, enhancing my confusion. "Afternoon, of course."
"Ah. And what day is it?" I asked.
She looked at me as if I'd asked her how high the moon was. "It's Week's End," she replied.
"I've been here two days?"
"Are you kidding? Why do you think Master Xavier was so angry? He's been waiting for an answer from your master the whole time."
I remembered the deathwalk, how hungry I was after I woke. Was it possible that I'd lost an entire day to sleep? In the autumnal light of the rust-red garden, the entire experience seemed like a bad dream. And now Gustobald had asked for another twelve hours. Was he going back to that place without me?
"The king has been expecting news and he isn't the most patient man," she whispered when I didn't answer. "It's Master Xavier's reputation on the line. He is stressed, to say the least."
"Sorry," I said. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. Gustobald's been working tirelessly since we arrived. He can be unusually focused once he's engaged. He meant no disrespect."
"I think we're past that now," she said. "The insults have already been thrown. You know how the masters are. But here comes the princess."
Princess Meridale was a beam of light racing across the courtyard. She was dressed in velvet brocade with hanging sleeves. She sparkled in the sun thanks to the myriad semi-precious stones sewn onto the fabric, and with practiced poise she held her trim above her ankle to allow herself freedom of movement. Her ebony hair was braided in a complex weave that made me regret having cut mine so short. She was radiant for someone whose brother was presumed dead. "Miss Airlea, who is your friend? Another wizard?"
We bowed our heads, but the princess waved her hands in front of us. "This is Miss Ives," Airlea said. "From the Academy Magus."
"Call me Isabel," I said, unsure how much trouble I could get into for allowing the deception that I was an academy wizard. "You're beautiful. You look so much like your mother."
"Everyone says." The princess rolled her eyes and gave a tired laugh. "I saw you the other day with the old wizard. Are you both wizard-detectives, Miss Isabel?"
"She is his apprentice," Airlea said.
"Just Isabel, Your Majesty," I said, and she laughed as Airlea whispered in my ear. "Your Highness, I mean. Sorry. I'm not used to all of this. Anyway, I'm just Gustobald's assistant. Strictly speaking, he isn't allowed to have an apprentice."
"Well, why not?" Meridale asked.
"Because he doesn't have a place at the academy," I said. "He's a consultant in matters of necromancy, but there is no necromancy school. The masters won't allow it."
"That sounds silly." It wasn't a condemnation, merely an observation. Meridale began her walk and we fell into step behind her. The courtyard gave way to an earthen path, presumably still within the palace walls, although it was hard to tell. If not for the guards lurking behind every trunk, I would have guessed we were in the forest of the southern reach—but then again, my knowledge of plants and trees was limited.
But the colors alone reminded me how different the seasons were as far north as the capital. Fall was fully underway. The red, yellow, and orange leaves were too vivid to be real, as if they were painted onto the trees. The ground was immaculate, carefully culled of unsightly brush. It was a field of green speckled with a few leaves that had already given up for the winter.
"I am glad you are here today," Meridale said. "Both of you. I am not accustomed to walking through the garden alone." She shook her head at the surrounding guards. "Well, you know what I mean. Jasper took walks with me whenever mother was too busy."
"It must be so difficult for you." I quickened my pace to walk at her side so I could see her face.
"It is. For mother, too. She is putting up a strong front for father, but I know she is beside herself with grief. I cannot imagine who would do such a thing."
"Did you spend a lot of time with your brother? Do you know if he had disagreements with anyone here in the palace?"
"No one!" She stopped just long enough to look me in the eye. "Everyone loved him. If he had a problem, I would know about it."
"It's true," Airlea said, rubbing her hand across a nearby trunk. "I read the prince's fortune myself several times. He had no enemies in the palace."
"And outside?" I asked.
"Of course, but not directly," Airlea said. "There is much internal strife and Coranthia is constantly warring with the savages to the east. But it's not my place to talk about such things. In any case, it's unlikely anyone would be able to manage an assassination."
I winced at Airlea's indelicacy, motioning behind the princess's back. "Gustobald believes he is still alive," I said, but neither Airlea's thoughtless comment nor my own reassurance had any visible effect on Meridale's mood.
"I should not be telling you this," Meridale replied. "But father thinks it has something to do with interrupting the wedding."
"It will hinder relations with the Ashdowns," Airlea said. "They were promised marriage to the royal family."
"They will get it one way or another." Meridale whispered, afraid my shadow Lionell might overhear. "Lord Ashdown has sons. It looks like I might be married sooner than I thought."
"Do you not want to marry?" Airlea asked.
"I am not sure," Meridale replied. "I do not mind, I suppose. It will happen sooner or later, and it would be a little exciting."
I searched the young girl's face for any sign she was joking, but she was unreadable. It took a concentrated effort not to shake my head at her blind optimism. "How old are you?" I asked, stopping short at her questioning stare. "If you don't mind me asking, Your Highness," I added.
"Seventeen years," she said. "The same as my brother. You might think it a bit old, but father wanted to make sure Jasper was wed first, even though he is the younger by minutes. Jasper was never happy about getting married. He had plenty of girls fighting for his attention."
"I'm sure that's not true, Princess," Airlea said, her eyes darting from me to the guard Lionell.
"It is no secret. I like to tease him about it," Meridale said. "He is so easy to rile; he has father's temper. And it matters little since everybody knows it—even the Ashdowns. But the only thing
that concerns them is making their daughter into a queen. Kings can have as many women as they like. I would not expect the two of you to understand. I am sure you will never marry. I only mean that you are witches, so you are free to not worry about such things."
"That's not really a good word, Your Highness," I said, drawing Airlea's silent rebuke.
"Why not? You are a witch, are you not?" Meridale's tone was genuine. She didn't linger on the notion but resumed her walk through the wood, which I realized was much smaller than it had first appeared. The path arched in a continuous crescent, then doubled back a few yards from the end along a parallel track. "Do you have someone special, Isabel?"
"Not really," I replied.
"Not really?" The princess giggled. "But you can be with anyone you choose, any time you choose. And there must be many handsome wizards at the magic school."
I looked to Airlea for help, but she seemed just as interested as Meridale. "I have to focus on my study," I said. "My time is precious to me."
"What a waste," Meridale replied. "What good are magic powers if they cannot even help you get a boy?"
"Princess!" Airlea's chiding gave way to shared laughter, and I smiled in spite of myself.
"I hope you visit often, Isabel," Meridale said as we approached the courtyard. "I have interest in magic. Airlea never shows me any of her tricks."
"They aren't tricks, Princess," Airlea said. "Magic must be used responsibly, and never for its own sake. It's one of the first things a red-robe learns."
"It would not be for its own sake," Meridale said. "It would be for my sake. To make me happy."
We returned to the courtyard to find Queen Valora at the entrance, waiting patiently with her guards. "Come along, Meridale. We will be late."
"Tea with the ladies," the princess whispered. "We must not miss that. Will you walk with us again tomorrow, Isabel?"
"If it pleases Your Highness," I said with a respectful nod.
"See you tomorrow, Airlea." Meridale didn't wait for a response. She skipped toward her mother with the same urgency she had displayed to us at first meeting, but the queen's warning glance inspired her to take more caution on the steps.
