by J. B. Markes
Queen Valora stayed behind after Meridale disappeared into the far hallway, while Airlea and I waited below. She whispered to her Sentinel bodyguard, a woman with fierce eyes that reminded me to be careful around the palace. The sentinel's hair was a short bob, a bright shock of red that fit right in with the autumn tones.
Under the woman's close scrutiny, the queen glided to the edge of the courtyard and placed her hands on the railing, looking down on me as she would an insect. Valora never spoke to me and never broke her gaze, like a mind mage invading her victim. Too late I realized Airlea was bowing her head, so I hurriedly crossed my legs and curtseyed, nearly falling forward in the process.
Airlea and I waited for the command to recover, but it never came. When we finally looked up, the queen was gone.
Chapter 8
That evening, Lionell helped me to my personal quarters, a comfortable room far from the chamber where Gustobald and I met with the king days before. I felt weak from lack of food and sleep, but my body wasn't cooperating to remedy it; two bites of an apple gave me such a stomachache that my appetite fled altogether. I crawled face-down onto the bed's fluffy blanket, but was only able to manage an hour's rest before giving up and casting a ward to refresh myself.
The effect was twofold, relieving my hunger and fatigue while at the same time providing me the familiar light-headed tingle that came as a side effect of spellcasting. It was a temporary solution to my permanent problem, and becoming ever more frequent as the days passed and my condition worsened. Not only did my fatigue return sooner, but I felt my tolerance to the magic sickness waning, as well. At first I had been alarmed at how often I had to rely on magical restoration to replace traditional methods, but as with everything in life, even dying eventually became routine.
By the light of the embers I searched my bag for the round box containing the light crystals I had borrowed from Gustobald's cottage. The three rocks were enchanted with perpetual light and hung in the air wherever I chose to place them, so I positioned them carefully around the humble corner table to make a suitable workspace.
I laid out my ink and parchment and stretched the muscles in my hands and fingers before setting to work. I started with the most powerful manifestation spell I knew, informally referred to as Icy Death by the hand mages of the academy. It was beyond my skill but I had managed it a time or two in training, and scribing a spell was always easier than actually casting it. Once it was on paper, I would be able to cast it freely, even when my magic left me.
The task was a welcome distraction. It was a complex ritual, a prolonged casting rather than a sudden burst of energy. A mage must trace the arcane symbols as flawlessly on paper as she would during a proper casting—each stroke an echo of a word of power, each flourish representing a practiced gesture. I felt the gentle stirring in my blood as the steady stream of ether passed through my body and into the script itself. It would only take a few hours to finish.
But then the knock came at my door, jarring me from my work. I confirmed the hook on the door was latched and refocused my effort, but seconds later the latch unhinged of its own accord and the door swung free. Gustobald came in uninvited and watched with interest as I tried to ignore him hovering over me.
"Can I help you, Gustobald?" I paused only a moment to make eye contact before returning to my craft. "I need peace and quiet."
He nodded sagely and passed behind me, wandering the room in a way that would have been quieter someplace else. I found the rhythm in his footsteps and used it to guide my hand at a regular pace then slowly fell back into my trance. But no sooner had I regained my concentration than he appeared at my side once more, startling me.
"Have you seen my apricots?" he whispered.
"In the bag." My hand trembled, but I held the line.
More footsteps, some rustling, and a muffled curse. "Confound these straps. What possible gain is there from designing a pack so difficult to open?"
"It's not the difficult bag, Gustobald. It's the other one. And neither of them is really that difficult."
"The big one?" The undisguised terror in his voice pulled me from my work, and I turned in my seat to evaluate the threat. "You wouldn't put them in the big bag. They'd be crushed for sure!"
"I put them in the end pocket just to be safe," I said. "They should be fine." Turning back to my table, I found the scroll was ruined. The writing had burned away, spreading outward until the parchment was completely charred. I tossed the quill into the glass of water and spun in my chair to find the necromancer sitting on the edge of my bed nibbling his dried fruit.
"Finished?" he asked.
"I am now. It failed."
"That's a shame. Why are you making scrolls anyway? You should be resting, conserving your strength."
"I couldn't sleep." I rubbed the frustration from my eyes. "And it's easier than casting. I'm going to need these scrolls more than ever soon enough."
"Eat," he said, tossing the bag to me but magically controlling its descent until it was safely within my grasp. "You'll be useless if you don't eat."
I made a big show of removing a small handful and eating one of the morsels while he watched. It was difficult not to focus on the hour I had thrown away on my failed scribing, to say nothing of the spent materials. It was small consolation that it was Gustobald's coin wasted and not my own.
For his part, Gustobald looked as tired as I felt. I wondered again if he had returned to that realm of death in search of Prince Jasper. His shoulders were stooped and his usually busy hands were hidden in the folds of his wrinkled clothing. He had switched back into his work attire, all leather buckles and pouches beneath his hooded cloak. There was an unsettling calm about him. His stillness drew my eye to the clear cordierite hanging around his neck. It was the stone I picked up for him before we left the academy, but now it gave off a faint purple glow.
"You've enchanted your pendant," I said, pointing at his chest, but he just nodded. "At least one of us had a productive day. I met with the princess and was threatened by the queen, as far as I can tell. Princess Meridale says she will marry an Ashdown in her brother's stead."
"Hum." Gustobald reclaimed his sack of apricots with a wave of his hand and returned to snacking.
I shook my head at his disinterest. "I've been meaning to talk to you about our recent journey."
"The deathwalk?"
"What happened back there wasn't normal, was it?" I could tell by his sigh that I was right. "What was it all about?"
"What do you think?" he asked.
"I think the spirits in that place were drawn to me. That maybe they know I will soon be among them. Is that what happens to us after we die, Gustobald?"
"No." Gustobald slid onto his feet and leaned against the bed post. "That is a place for lost souls, vengeful spirits, those who have met violent ends and cannot move on until they've found a modicum of peace."
"Move on where?" I asked, but he just shook his head. "They were latching on to me. It felt like they would drain the life right out of me. It wasn't safe for me there."
"You were safe with me," he replied.
"They didn't even see you," I said. "And my presence endangered the mission. So you went back there without me, didn't you?"
"No. As I said, we got what we came for and the rest isn't worth dwelling on. Your focus should be more on what you can learn here in the palace, be it from the princess, the inspector, or anyone else. Barring that, you should be resting instead of squandering your energy on paper. Don't you have enough already hoarded away in that scroll case of yours?"
"I'm going to need as many as I can get, Gustobald. I don't think I can even cast some of these spells anymore."
"Better crack the spellbook."
"It's not an issue of study and you know it. Why are you fighting me all the time? If my curse really is wild magic, if it's in my blood, then there must be a cure. The academy teaches that wild mages are to be feared."
"Hunted and killed," Gustobald agreed
.
"So where are they then? How can they be feared if they all die off? I need to find a master."
Gustobald was struck. He looked about himself as if he had gone invisible.
"You know what I mean," I said, standing and looking him eye-to-eye. "I have nothing but respect for you. And no matter what the academy says, you're a master of your art. But I need someone who knows what I'm going through—someone who's already beaten it—before it's too late."
"Most probably die out long before becoming masters," Gustobald said. "They're out there. But if they were easy to find, the Sentinels would have killed them all long ago. Think of your own resistance to magic. It's impossible for diviners to scry a wild mage. Give me time, girl. I'll find them."
"I think I need to lie down," I said, wrapping my arms around my stomach to put pressure on the ache.
"No time for that now," the necromancer said. "The inspector will be here any moment. We're on the hunt tonight."
I leaned on the back of the chair, sliding it under the table. "Do you know something I don't?"
"While we were idle, Raines has uncovered the last known whereabouts of the prince." Gustobald tied shut the small bag of dried fruit. "Raines is dense, but he does have his moments. Are those my lights floating above your desk?"
"Raines is a good man." I collected the crystals with a wide sweep of my hand and laid them on top of the burned scroll. "I wish the two of you would just get along."
"In another lifetime perhaps. But enough of that. Unless I'm mistaken, that is his step outside the door."
I heard nothing, but when the knock came, I did my best to hide my bewilderment. Gustobald smirked all the same. One hand on my stomach, I opened the door to find Seeker Celeste staring back at me. I gave her room to enter, turning back to gloat at my mentor, but the next instant Inspector Raines came through behind her and Gustobald raised his eyebrows at me. Raines was careful to close the door behind him before getting down to business.
"A palace sentinel reports speaking to Prince Jasper just four nights ago," Raines said. "He paid a visit to the God's Eye and never returned."
"The God's Eye?" I shook my head.
"A portentous title if ever one was," Gustobald replied. "You thought the academy wizards were full of themselves."
"The God's Eye is the highest point of the palace," the Seeker said. "It is off-limits to all but the royal family. For whatever reason, the prince paid a handsome sum to keep his actions secret."
"Not handsomely enough," the inspector said. "Word gets around."
Celeste rested her hand on the grip of the glass wand tucked in her belt. "There is no questioning Sentinel Kurting's loyalty, only his judgment. Kurting waited for Prince Jasper at the bottom of the stairs when he should have accompanied him to the God's Eye, as was his duty."
"He let the prince wander alone?" I asked.
"And for that he's been removed from the Silver Palace," Celeste replied with callous eyes. "He's in the Hold as we speak, awaiting trial for negligence of duty. Things are not expected to work out for him."
Gustobald twisted the beads on his beard with a wicked grin, but the Seeker didn't notice his approval. The high stakes were lost on him, but I began to wonder where the two of us would end up if we failed in our mission. King Eamon's recent outburst during our one and only meeting came to mind. This short-spoken Seeker Sentinel wouldn't be any more forgiving.
"I've arranged for us to have some time on the upper terrace," Raines said. "We should make good use of it." He paused suddenly to look me up and down. "Did I miss something? Miss Ives, you look frightfully pale."
"I'm feeling a bit out of sorts," I said, fighting my stomach cramps. "Gustobald's apricots."
"I feel perfectly fine," the necromancer said.
"Perhaps you should lie down," Raines said with more concern than Seeker Celeste could muster. "We can handle the search. Get some rest."
"No sleep for any of us tonight," Gustobald said, tossing the apricots without waiting to see them land a foot short of his duffel. "I'll need my assistant in case there's any heavy lifting. To the God's Eye. Lead the way."
Chapter 9
The God's Eye was aptly named. When I escaped the confines of the Silver Palace, the world unfolded before me and my restlessness of the past three days dissolved into the autumn night. The city below was a scene of quiet energy, the business of the day having moved indoors for light and comfort. It was a beautiful sight that helped me cope with the biting cold and my aching stomach and head.
From this elevation, I could see the stark wilderness beyond the city walls, a void where the civilized world ended. It was an untamed place—nature's deathwalk—where unknown beasts eagerly consumed each other in the dark. Within the walls of Astar, the masses huddled for warmth and security, battling different foes.
The palace and its immediate environs were even-spaced, but the streets beyond were devoid of any strategy whatsoever: the colosseum to the north, the markets and dock district to the west. It was difficult to tell in the lowlight of the last crescent moon, but the newly built temple to the northeast loomed large enough to challenge even the God's Eye.
As the inspector gave a quick rundown of the city districts, I turned my eyes toward the heavens. With little moonlight to interfere, the stars were on full display. It was a rare sight for an academy mage, as the Tower of Seeing usually shone with such fierceness that the stars were lost. For the most part, the constellations were the same in the north, but here the Crying Maid was directly overhead. The World Tree, unobservable at the magic school, was peeking just over the northern horizon.
The stars disappeared when Celeste lit up the area with glowing baubles. She rolled the five small glass orbs outward along the surface of the God's Eye, bathing the surrounding area in pure white light. Not to be outdone, Gustobald summoned a swarm of dancing lights, which spread across the zone, weaving about in unpredictable patterns and filling in the dark patches until the entire terrace was within view. The bright light pierced my eyes and my headache made a quick comeback.
"We should be doing this by daylight," I said.
"Dawn will be best," the inspector replied. "And it's not far off. But during the day it's far too hot. You could fry meat on this surface. So here we are, thanks to Miss Celeste's powers."
I saw my cloudy reflection in the floor and realized I was standing on smooth silver. It was a large seamless disc of precious metal, certainly a product of magical fabrication. I felt guilty marring its surface, even wearing Airlea's immaculate seal leather moccasins.
"What do we know for certain?" Gustobald asked, taking advantage of being outdoors by untucking his pipe from under his arm. "Come, let's hear every detail."
"Prince Jasper regularly visited the God's Eye," Raines said, systematically sweeping the silver with his foot as he took a circular path. "It is a place of solace for the royal family. As there is only one stairway to the terrace, their privacy and security is more or less assured. It's probably why Sentinel Kurting thought the prince would be fine on his own."
"Hum." Gustobald lit his pipe, not the easiest task with the wind picking up.
"As you already know, Sentinel Kurting reports that the prince made his last visit here four nights ago," Celeste said, brushing her braids from her face. "This is corroborated by the palace guard, who was also paid for his silence, though not found derelict in his duty."
"Different sworn duties," the inspector said. "A different ethos, at least."
"Different commanders," she said. "If he were one of mine." She bit her lip. "He allowed Prince Jasper to pass discreetly up the stairs to the God's Eye. His Highness never returned."
The inspector began his search from the center of the disc, so I moved to the edge of the platform and looked outward. The shifting wind whipped my robes, so I wrapped my arms around my waist to keep them in line. I turned into the breeze to let it wash over my sweaty forehead, closing my eyes for a five-second nap until I could no
longer bear the chilled wind.
Sufficiently refreshed, I pulled up my hood and peered straight down the sheer drop to whatever served as the ground below; from such height, I couldn't make out the base. Instead, I imagined the twisted phantoms of the nether realm were lying in wait just outside of my field of vision. I placed my toes just over the edge and considered casting a minor transmutation to help me see through the dusky blanket, but thought better of it. Spells would only make me sicker.
The prince couldn't have jumped. They would have found his body the next morning. Even if he had a safer way to the bottom, he still would have ended up inside the palace walls. It would have been pointless. To get beyond palace grounds, he would have needed to sprout wings and fly away. Easy enough for a magic user, not so for a commoner—even a royal commoner.
My thoughts were interrupted by Inspector Raines's powerful arms closing around me, pulling me back from the edge. The quick start gave me such a fright I screamed out loud. After dragging me a few steps, he loosened his grip. I spun in his arms to meet him face-to-face, our noses almost touching. It would have been too close for comfort had I not already been scared out of my wits. I pushed him away until he reluctantly complied.
"Are you crazy?" My harsh tone confused him, and he looked from Gustobald to Celeste for support. "What are you doing?"
"You were too far out," he replied softly. "I thought you were in danger of falling."
"I wasn't until you grabbed me. We might have gone over together."
"I don't like high places." His confession took all the grace he could summon. Indeed, it was difficult to imagine the inspector being afraid of anything. "That is to say, I'm only looking out for your well-being, Miss Ives. You should have a care in the face of your own mortality."
"I'll keep it in mind," I said. I didn't bother explaining that even a novice wizard was capable of surviving a fall from any height. "But all the same, I can handle myself. Thank you."
