by J. B. Markes
"I won't tell anyone," I said, shaking my head and fumbling with my manacles.
"But I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to, so I ran away from the magic school. I was young and afraid. I didn't get far. I hid in the western forest for over a month, surviving on wards when I couldn't find plants to eat or small animals to mesmerize. It was Master Bartleby himself who found me—wild, half-starved, and ready to battle for my life.
"He took me back to the Tower of the Eye, where he was headmaster. He nursed me back to health. I never learned what happened to Tess but she was never heard from again. I assume she's in the Hold. Master Bartleby looked into my future and saw that I would excel in the Tower of Many Tongues, so I've been a summoner ever since."
"And a Sentinel," I said.
"Throughout my time at the academy I called upon Master Bartleby many times for counsel, and he never turned me away—not once. He was the one who recommended me to the summoning school and the Sentinels, and even to the First Sentinels here in Astar. He saw something in me that I didn't see in myself. For that, I always looked upon him as a father."
"I understand," I said, realizing the Archseer's death must weigh heavy on her heart after only a month's grieving. "I'm so sorry for your loss." We waited for the awkward moment to pass but it wouldn't die on its own. "What's going to happen to me?" I asked.
"You're here for the night or until you sober up. Because you're here in service to His Majesty and because of your prior service to the Academy Magus, you have a pass. But, by the gods, you're on watch. Do not go near any member of the royal family again. You've lost that privilege."
"Don't worry. I won't," I said, certain I would be locked back up in my room again under Sentinel guard.
"It's protocol," she said. "We have strict rules here but they all serve a purpose."
"Forgive me," I replied. "It's been a while since I've had to follow the rules."
"So I've heard," Celeste said, pointing her finger at my chest and chanting a minor force cantrip which fizzled out before it made contact. She shook her head on her way out of my tiny cell, pausing briefly to slide the bars shut. "If the situation was different, you would be transferred to indefinite holding. And maybe you do belong there; you don't belong in the Silver Palace."
"But?" I asked, hoping she would continue.
"But despite my better judgment, you have my pity. Mr. Pitch says you're not long for this world. I'll be back in the morning to escort you back to your master."
"Gustobald said that?" I asked, the pain returning to the pit of my stomach.
"You're going to have a rough time," she said, walking away from my cell. "But trust me. Better the sickness takes you while you're still young."
Her statement struck me hard; I wasn't sure exactly how to respond. I asked her what she meant, but the only answer was her fading footfalls, leaving me alone to wonder what else Gustobald wasn't telling me.
Chapter 15
Raines and Gustobald were in my quarters when I returned. The inspector stood up to give me room, so Sentinel Chalke swung me by the iron cuffs and dropped me roughly into my chair. Raines took a step back to get a better look at me. "You interrogated the queen," he said, too much in awe to be angry. "Miss Ives, what were you thinking?"
"She wasn't," Gustobald fired back. "It's a frequent problem with her."
"I'm the victim here," I said. "That sentinel attacked me."
"You attacked the queen!" Chalke put his finger in my face and I resisted the temptation to bite it off.
"All I did was put my hand on her arm," I said, elbowing the uncomfortable chair.
"You cannot touch the royal family," Raines said.
"Nobody told me that." There was an itch right on the tip of my nose, but the mage manacles made scratching difficult. The muscles in my hands and fingers were stiff from wearing them in the holding cell the entire night. Now that I was back in my room, the only thing I wanted to do was climb into my bed for a few hours' sleep, but I was unlikely to get privacy anytime soon.
Inspector Raines crossed his arms. "You're lucky you weren't killed."
"And luck is all it is!" Gustobald added.
"And you've made yourself an enemy of the Crown, as far as the Sentinels are concerned."
"I'm not a criminal!" I cut off my shouting and lowered my voice when Gustobald held up his finger. "I told you. It was Gustobald's wand I was charging in the first place. Look. It's right there in the charging stand. It was just too much for me. I didn't know it would take such a toll."
Gustobald sent me a subtle gesture to cut off my tirade, but Chalke didn't miss a trick. "That duel has been called off," the sentinel said, and I sighed in relief. At least something good came of my unpleasant encounter with the queen.
"Postponed," the old wizard whispered, dashing my momentary ease.
"Look, I'm better now." I held up the manacles. "I'm a little light-headed, but I don't think I could cast a spell even if I wanted to."
Gustobald didn't answer, only motioned to the cuffs, so finally Raines went about unhooking them. Chalke gave Raines a look of disgust and walked out, muttering to himself. I looked to Gustobald for support.
"Best get used to it, Miss Ives," the necromancer said. "The First Sentinels know what you are now—if they didn't before. They fear what they don't understand."
"Forget it. I don't have the energy for this." When the shackles fell free, I stretched my fingers and rubbed my hands together, turning greedy glances toward my pillow. "They'll get their wish soon enough. Now, if you'll excuse me." I pushed out of the chair and took the five steps to my bed, guiding a controlled descent into a roll and landing on my back.
"We need to deal with this soon." Gustobald retrieved his package from the previous day and laid it beside me on the bed. "It's our feathered friend."
"Why didn't you do it when I was talking to Airlea, or locked in the Hold?"
"Because we have to do it together," he said. "Do you want to learn necromancy or not?"
"Yes, Gustobald, but if I could just rest for five minutes."
"Also, you need to take him as your familiar."
"What? Absolutely not! It's not even alive."
"He will be soon."
"Let's talk about it in the morning—or the evening, or whenever." No sooner had I closed my eyes but there was a knock on the door jam. I blinked long enough to see Lionell whispering in the inspector's ear. He was out of breath, so his labored words weren't as quiet as he suspected. King, emergency, at once. "Oh, what now?" I asked, putting my elbow over my eyes.
"Well, Mr. Pitch," Raines said, grabbing his hat and working the curled brim with his fingers. "We've had a new development. Sentinel Chalke can watch over her while we attend."
"Nonsense. Miss Ives must come. I insist. She is my eyes and ears. Actually, more like my hands—well, when my hands aren't attacking members of the royal family, that is."
"It's fine, Gustobald." I turned on my side and pulled my hood over my head. "I feel a headache coming on and I could use the rest."
"I know the feeling," the old man said, pulling me off the bed by the back of my robe. In my haste to protect the silk, I barely stopped myself from falling on the floor. When my feet touched down, I was just about to tell Gustobald exactly what I thought of the situation when he patted my arms proudly. "But you're young. That's the spirit. Now off we go!"
"It's really not necessary," the inspector said. "She can barely stand on her own."
"I think I know my own apprentice better than you do, sir. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to get rid of her." Gustobald retrieved his hat from atop his deathknell staff in the corner and dropped it carelessly on his head before picking up the staff itself and giving its bells a shake. "Looking for a job, are we, Raines? I'm sorry but I'm not looking to take on a replacement just yet. Thank you for your interest."
I found the just yet to be in poor taste. Inspector Raines's face darkened, though whether in protest fo
r his own honor or mine I hadn't a clue.
"It's all right, Inspector," I said, clearing my raspy throat. "It's stuffy in here anyway. Let's get this over with."
They gave me enough time to eat a banana and drink some water. On the way out, I spied the charging stand and mumbled a curse for my missing satchel and wand. Princess Meridale was probably having fun with her new toys. Sentinel Chalke waited for me in the hallway, but I didn't give him time to rebuke me. I matched Lionell's hurried pace and let my babysitter worry about keeping up.
* * *
A wizard never sleeps. It's an old saying, but just as applicable today as when it was first penned. It was practical for a wizard to eschew earthly concerns to focus entirely on her art. By the time a wizard became a journeyman practitioner, food was more or less a luxury, but still valuable as a tool of diplomacy when reaching out to those who still found a use for it. However, sleeping away one's time was an unforgivable sin. In my spellsick state the world had moved on without me again, giving a surreal quality to everything around me. This time our investigation was coming to an end.
Inspector Raines and Lionell brought us to the throne room. Gustobald objected the entire way. He so hated being left in the dark. In my opinion he had little reason to complain; I was the one who had to make the walk with a pigeon tucked under my arm. Gustobald insisted I keep it close to begin the bonding process, which I went along with just to keep him happy. I wasn't sure why I had to explain that a zombie bird wasn't my idea of a good pet.
The throne room was noticeably cooler without the crowds, with much more space to move around if one were given free rein to do so. Gustobald's apricot tree was gone, and the broken tiles had already been replaced. The Radiant Round shone in splendor, but both the throne and the queen's seat were empty. Master Xavier stood just outside of the glow, not giving Gustobald so much as a sneer. Not to be overlooked, the necromancer tapped his deathknell staff loudly on the golden tile as he walked.
There we waited in uncomfortable silence for a quarter of an hour until at last the doors to the main hall swung open and King Eamon entered. The queen came in just behind him. There were no trumpets or heralds, only a column of wizards flanking them on either side as they approached the Round and took their seats.
"Get up!" The king's countenance was grim, his voice stern. It frightened me so much I forgot to help Gustobald up from his kneeling. Luckily he reminded me with the instructive tap of his staff on my leg.
The entire body of the First Sentinels had turned out, lining the central approach on either side, though Seeker Celeste was conspicuously absent. Only twenty in number, the Sentinels were barely half the force of their counterparts at the Academy Magus, though I had learned that all were experts of their fields.
"You're out of time," the king said. "Scouts report Lord Ashdown's imminent arrival, far ahead of schedule. Worse, he is at the head of five hundred footmen."
"It is a sizeable force, Your Majesty," Xavier said. "But not unheard of when delivering a royal bride. I'm told Her Majesty was accompanied by a hundred horsemen and footmen."
"I've had enough of your projections, pretender!" The king spat furiously. Xavier put his hands around his neck as if his head were about to roll off. "Clear out of the palace and find your living flipping cards on the streets."
"Majesty!" Xavier shook his head, his face a blank canvas waiting to be painted. When the situation dawned on him he threw himself on his hands and knees in front of the Round. His words ran together as his dignity seeped out, his pleas so awkward I could scarce stand to listen. The king motioned to the nearest sentinel, who collected Xavier and pulled him away. He was still begging when they passed into the side corridor. I thought Gustobald would be gloating, but his gaze was locked on the king.
"The timing is uncanny," the queen said. "First a message of ransom, then the Ashdowns are upon us. This is a clear threat. They have the prince and they mean to subdue us through blackmail and brute tactics."
"Five hundred men will not be enough for that," Eamon replied. "We will show them what happens to those who kidnap and extort. And now to the necromancer." This last word he drew out, his lip curled as if it disgusted him to speak it.
"Your Majesty." My master bowed lower than ever. Whatever speech he had planned was cut short by Seeker Celeste's entrance at the main doors.
The king nodded to his Seeker and addressed the necromancer with a frown. "You've failed, Gustobald Pitch. But no more so than my most trusted advisors. I have no use for you anymore. You have my leave to return to the magic city."
Gustobald's tone was surprisingly gentle. "Your Majesty, there is still work to be done here."
"Not for a wizard-detective," Eamon said. "It is left in more capable hands now."
"Capable? Hum!" Gustobald grumbled and tapped his finger on his staff. "Whose hands are those?"
Eamon raised a commanding gesture to Celeste and she leaned back into the hallway, returning with the king's new guests, a procession of academy wizards. Master Warren and Master Virgil were the first to enter, leading five orange robes from the manifestation school. Next came the conjuror Master Rupert with the mind mage Master Eisley and an apprentice I didn't know, and just behind them was Master Gretel, the transmuter who had recently traded out her amber robes for white. They marched two-by-two between the columns of sentinels until they reached the open area before the Round, where they filed left and right into one long line and knelt in unison.
"Well." Gustobald flushed, but a second group's entrance caught his attention. It was the Second Sentinels, led by Sentinel Ruby, who had made such a name for herself over a month ago during the investigation of the Archseer's murder. Though only a junior sentinel, she was given the position of honor today, escorting ten of their elite members onto the walk between their Astar counterparts, where they awaited orders. The Sentinels never bowed to the king; it would require dropping their guard.
"Not good," Gustobald whispered. "Far too many hand mages for comfort."
"What can we do?" I asked. "The king's dismissed us."
"Out of time," he said, his eyes darting to the pigeon package. "It's too early, but we'll perform the ritual tonight."
"Rise!" The king sat up straighter, sizing up the new force at his disposal. "Seeker, explain it to them."
"Your Majesty." Celeste adjusted her glass wand and walked up and down the line of masters, her boots ringing metallic against the gilded tile. "Welcome to the court of King Eamon the Conqueror, Son of Eamond, Son of Umond, Keeper of the Peace, Champion of the Spur, Chosen by the Old Gods, Blessed by the New; long may he reign!"
The gravity of the king's title seeped into the cracks between our nerves. You could almost hear the breathing of the attendants. I can't be sure, but I must have been the only one contemplating the uniqueness of Prince Jasper's name compared to his ancestors. After a few seconds of dead silence, Celeste continued her speech.
"Long has it been since a king or queen has called upon the good wizards of the Academy Magus for aid. You have answered faithfully. Speaking as First Seeker, you have done me proud.
"But the situation in the capital is dire. We have evidence that Prince Jasper, heir to the throne of Coranthia, was stolen from the palace two weeks ago." Here she paused to let the side discussion pass. "In the interest of settling the matter with as little publicity as possible, we invited your own Gustobald Pitch to conduct an investigation. Unfortunately, he has been unable to uncover the identities of those involved."
"Bah!" Gustobald reached for the pipe on his belt but I stayed his hand. He wrestled his hand from mine, so I grabbed his pipe and held it far out to the side. Gustobald stepped into my personal space, reaching out with a barking whisper. "Give it here, girl."
"Gustobald, don't," I whispered, holding the pipe away with one hand and pushing the bagged bird against Gustobald's chest to keep him at bay. "You'll get us both beheaded." When I noticed the Seeker staring at me, I put my hands down and hid the pipe be
hind my back. The masters turned to see what the trouble was, only to look back to Celeste in confusion.
"Lord Ashdown of Northsgate will arrive before sunset," the Seeker continued. "Officially, he brings his daughter to make preparations for the upcoming wedding. We believe Lord Ashdown plays us falsely and will demand a private audience to discuss conditions for the release of our beloved prince."
"Ridiculous!" Gustobald struck his staff on the tile until he drew everyone's contempt. "His daughter would be made a queen. There is no need for subterfuge."
"Why make your daughter a queen when you could be a king yourself?" Eamon shouted. "Lord Ashdown has lusted after my throne since the day I laid claim to Northsgate. He means to usurp me."
"With five hundred spears?" Gustobald asked as I tugged on his sleeve to remind him to whom he was speaking.
"Astar will hold, fool! We have the east to worry about."
The politics of the day were lost on me. In the magic city, it was easy to forget that there was an entire kingdom to the north. Tucked away in my room, I barely even followed the goings-on at the academy. Diviners notwithstanding, you would be hard-tasked to find a wizard with time to spare on such trivialities. Nevertheless, in the coming days clients would sometimes seek out Gustobald in delicate matters of state, and by necessity we slowly came to know what made the wide world turn; understanding it was another bag of tricks completely.
"His Majesty could be right," Celeste said. "Far to the east, where the Wolf-Lords descending on the Great Plains is a regular occurrence, the people of Northsgate see only the enemy at their gates. They don't see the sacrifices made by the kingsmen to keep the barbarians at bay. There are whispers that it is Lord Ashdown, and not King Eamon, that protects the east. Farther south, where little aid reaches the pirate-plagued seaboard—"
