The Magic Council (The Herezoth Trilogy)

by Grefer, Victoria

  The queen spoke for the first and only time in that impromptu gathering. “Just the boys, Rexson?”

  “Melly too. All of them. I’m not taking chances, not after all that’s passed.” Rexson turned then from his wife to August. “They’ll be there as long as they must. Hopefully no longer than a week, though their stay could….”

  “It could be much longer,” said Vane, “if things go ill here. Rexson, let me help you!” Zacry tried to hush him, but Vane said, “At least let me stay to guard the queen while you go tramping across the kingdom hunting Dorane. That’s what you’re planning, isn’t it?” The king said it was. “Let me stay, because Gracia can’t leave. You know she can’t. It would look too odd.”

  Gratton rolled his eyes. “Odd? What does that matter? Ten of my fellow guards witnessed the queen’s reunion with her sons. You think that wasn’t odd to them? That they’re not talking about it? You think it won’t draw notice when the princess disappears? Gracia doesn’t need you to protect her. What makes you think you could? She should leave with her children.”

  Rexson jabbed a hand toward his stack of papers. “Someone has to manage the kingdom, Gratton, someone who knows what I’m really off doing. Gracia alone qualifies. She has to stay. I won’t pull my Chief Adviser into this.

  “And Vane…. Vane, I accept your offer, and I thank you. You’ll be safer at the Palace than with me, and I’ll feel more at ease knowing Gracia has you here. But be careful. In the Giver’s name, don’t forget what happened to Kora in this building.”

  Vane argued, “Kora couldn’t use her magic. That’s how a mob trapped her.”

  The king leapt forward. He tore the sleeve off his garment as he went, pushed an unsuspecting Vane against the nearest wall of books. Volumes clattered against the marble floor, falling from the shelves, and August let out a little shriek, stumbling back. Rexson forced the ripped sleeve in the sorcerer’s mouth as, wide-eyed, the boy tried to cast a spell. Then the king drew a dagger, which he held against Vane’s throat.

  “All it takes is a gagging. You have to voice your spells. You trust someone you shouldn’t, or someone takes you from behind, and just like that, your magic is as useless as Kora’s was to her. Understand?”

  The boy couldn’t nod, not with a blade pressed against his jugular vein. He hardly dared to breathe. A dribble of sweat ran down his forehead, and the king let him go. Vane let out a gasp of air that was trapped in his lungs as Rexson said, “Don’t be too confident. And don’t assume you’ll always have your incantations.”

  “I won’t,” Vane said, coughing. While his heartbeat slowed and August stood shaking with a hand over her mouth, Bennie sent a startled glance Gratton’s way. She was disconcerted to see he approved of the king’s shenanigans—or seemed to, based on his wry smile. Zacry told Vane, “Go help August pack her things.”

  “I don’t have any things,” said the girl.

  “Then help her track down what she’ll need to take to Triflag.”

  The room’s youngest occupants left without a word. As the door eased shut behind them, Bennie asked, her voice quiet but determined, “Was that necessary, Lanokas?”

  Gratton said, “The boy has to learn somehow what he’s up against. You’d rather him figure it out when they attack?”

  Bennie protested, “The dagger wasn’t overkill?”

  “Drop it,” said Zacry, though he too looked disturbed. “It’s done. We have other things to consider, like where to start this search. Where might they go? Does anyone have a hunch?”

  Bennie sighed. “The Fist has one more officer, an older man named Crale Bendit. He’s a firestarter, lives in Yangerton.”

  Rexson said, “I met him once. Only once, last year sometime. He proposed service to the community via magic as grounds for lower taxes: not a bad idea in itself.”

  Bennie said, “I’m not sure Arbora would stay with him. For one, he knows nothing about what’s going on, and for another, she knows I’ve met the man as Gretta Yastly. But she and the others, they might want to be near him: a quiet inn close-by, where they can lie low and he’d be accessible, and Dorane’s family wouldn’t get caught in any crossfire, because they live just north of here. Rexson, Crale’s a mentor of sorts to Arbora. I got that impression strongly. She might stop by to warn him about us, if not to ask advice.”

  “That’s as good a lead as any,” said Zacry.

  “When do we leave?” Gratton asked.

  The king said, “Two hours. Gracia, you’ll see the children off? They can transport with Zac from the stables.”

  The queen swept from the library with no farewell gesture. The hem of her gown scraped the floor, but she did not trouble to lift it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Of Babies and Blankets

  August found her new dresses when she returned to her room, six of them: cotton frocks with empire waists and lace embroidery of the style she was used to. They were folded one on top another, stacked in a hatbox she could use to carry them to Traigland.

  Traigland. August’s throat thickened to think of the place, as when the king had lunged at Vane and she had felt a complete and utter helplessness that made her airways swell. At least in Traigland, she told herself, she would have proper clothing. No more masquerading in gowns far too luxurious for her, or servant’s clothes that accentuated how plain her eyes and nose were, how drab her hair could lie. She would look decent when she met Kora Porteg.

  With that thought, she had to clear her throat. She turned to Vane, who had walked her to her room and was now staring at the landscape painting on the wall.

  “Will I be staying with Kora Porteg?”

  Vane blinked. “I guess so. You could stay with Joslyn if you like— that’s Zacry’s wife—but Kora could always use help with that brood she’s got. If you want to be useful, or keep busy, there’d be more to do with Kora.”

  “Is she nice?”

  “You’re not nervous to meet her?”

  “You have to understand, I spent years listening to my sister rant about how awful Kora is, what a traitor to the magicked for not supporting Zalski. I know that’s just Ursa talking, that I can’t set any store by it, but I heard it so often there’s just no way I won’t feel awkward around the woman. And Arbora, Arbora went off on Kora once. If you had any idea the things she called her: royalist pig, the king’s courtesan....”

  “Kora welcomed me with open arms when I met her. She’ll do the same with you.”

  August had to ask: “Her children, whose are they, do you think?”

  In a tone that made the girl bite her lip, Vane responded, “Her husband’s. I don’t care what vicious people might insinuate. They’re her husband’s.”

  August reached for a spring of curls. She kept on the topic of Kora Porteg, but changed her angle of approach.

  “Is she mute?” Vane said she wasn’t. “But everyone knows she’s mute, that Zalski destroyed her voice before he died.”

  “Zacry healed her. He undid Zalski’s spell or something, though I’m not sure how. Kora never told me, and I don’t ask many questions about her past, or Zacry’s. They don’t like to discuss it.”

  “Does Kora use magic often?”

  “Hardly ever. Zacry does, all the time, but I think Kora will always associate magic with the Crimson League: with Zalski and my mother. Zalski she wants to forget entirely, and who could blame her? My mother, on the other hand, taught her a lot. Like Zacry’s taught me. Kora usually tears up when I do nothing more than mention the woman, so casting spells must really bring the past back.

  “I think that’s why she hasn’t finished her book, to be honest with you. It evokes the past as well, to the point that she can’t bring herself to work on it sometimes. Zacry mentioned that last part once, to Joslyn, and I overhead. He didn’t speculate as to why she can’t write some days, and I didn’t think much of it for a while, but the book’s a history of magic. Kora’s been working on it since before I met her.”

  “Are her child
ren sorcerers?”

  “They could be. Kora’s line doesn’t have the sorcerer’s mark, even those who can do magic. One of her ancestors got rid of it. Her kids would have to cast a spell to find out, and they haven’t tried yet. Kora says they’re too young.”

  “You know her well,” remarked August.

  “There’s a lot I’ll never know. A lot she doesn’t talk about, like I said. She’s been through some real trauma, and she deserves peace and quiet now, if that’s what she wants. I’ll say this though: she answers every question about my mother. Anything I ask.”

  “I’ve heard your mother died under Zalski’s reign.”

  Vane said proudly, “She ran the organized resistance.”

  “And she was Zalski’s sister? How? How did they turn out so different?”

  “That’s a question for the king. He grew up with them.”

  August pulled on her hair again. “I can’t believe he…. For I moment I thought he really…. Val, are you all right?”

  The sorcerer, unconsciously, raised a hand to his red neck. “I’m not hurt. You know the king wouldn’t….”

  “Be careful, Val. Please be careful! You know there’s a spy, and the king will be gone, and…. Why do you have to stay? Why do you want that? Can’t you come with the boys and me?”

  “I really shouldn’t leave the queen. What if the spy comes after her? What if Dorane starts a revolt? She needs someone with her.”

  “She has guards, doesn’t she? Why can’t they watch over her?”

  “Because…. Because look, I have an obligation. My parents, they didn’t abandon the royal family, and neither will I. I won’t turn my back on Rexson.”

  The thought struck Vane that both his father and mother had been killed on the Palace grounds, but he dared not mention that. August looked frightened enough as it was. She said, “You’re not deserting the royals if you go to Traigland. You’d be watching over the princes, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course I’d be, but I’m more needed here. You can watch the boys. They like you more than me anyway, and if they need protection of a different sort, if they need a sorcerer over there, they’ll have Kora. She can work magic, believe me. She’d rather not use it, but that doesn’t mean she can’t. August, if I don’t stay here, whom can the queen turn to? Zacry can’t stay. He has to account for both Dorane and Arbora. He has to go with Rexson.”

  “You’re right,” said August. “Of course you’re right. The queen needs you. She’s been awfully kind to me, and it’d be horrible if something happened to her. I’d rather not go off alone, that’s what it is, but I’m being foolish. Things will work out somehow. They always have before. I mean, the boys are home, aren’t they? For the moment they’re home. They’re not in that basement anymore, that’s what I mean to say, I….”

  Vane smiled, and August blushed. He said, “You’ll have to tell me what you think of Kora when you get back. You’re different in some ways, but I think you’ll get along.”

  “You really think I’ll be able to come back?”

  “Of course you will! We’ll get things under control here, and when it’s safe again, Zacry or I will come for you. You’ll be back here in a blink. For now, just finish packing. I should probably get some things together myself. I’ll spend nights in the queen’s antechamber from here on out, in case anyone unwanted drops by.”

  August looked horrified. “You can’t do that! The scandal!”

  “No one’ll know. I can turn invisible, and I can transport in from any spot in the Palace. I just can’t transport out the building. A nice system Zalski set up, eh? Mobility within, security from without.”

  “He’d want security, wouldn’t he? His enemies were pretty powerful.”

  “As far as individuals go, I guess they were, but how they succeeded I’ll never know. They shouldn’t have. Zalski had an army, had thousands of men. I know every surviving member of the core of the Crimson League, and I’ll never understand how one of them’s alive.”

  “I sure don’t have a clue about that, I…. You should pack up, Val. Didn’t you say you need to do that?”

  “Not pack, exactly. I can’t bring my bag to Gracia’s quarters, but I’ll need something to bar the door.”

  “Just make sure you say goodbye before I leave.”

  “You can count on it.”

  * * *

  Vane was not, in fact, able to see August off. Zacry came for her much sooner than she expected, a mere quarter of an hour after Vane left her. She barely had time to wash her face and try on her new dresses, all of which fit her nicely enough, considering how fast some servant woman had taken her measurements. The session had been like being caught in a tornado.

  Zacry’s haste in leading her to the stables made August’s head spin in just the same way as the woman with the measuring tape. The princes were puffing when they arrived, having run to keep up, and August, holding a napping Melinda, fell behind because she refused to trot and wake the baby. The travelers formed a circle, and after a brief stop at the Herezoth shore, August found herself standing on the cobblestone walk to a homey-looking, brick-fronted cottage. The closest neighboring house stood some fifty yards to the left. To the right was a field and fishpond. When August looked back to the cottage from the surrounding landscape, a woman had appeared in the window, a woman still young, with thick chestnut curls pulled away from her face by a bandana that hid her forehead.

  That’s her. That’s Kora.

  Kora drew back from sight and threw open the door with a relieved expression on her face. She hugged her brother, who was at the front of the group. “You’re home,” she said.

  “Not for long, I’m not.”

  “What does that mean? Did something go wrong? Who…?” She looked at August and at Rexson’s children as though she had not noticed them before. “Who are they? Are those Lanokas’s kids?”

  Zacry told August, “Watch the children for a minute,” and hurried his sister inside. He slammed the door without thinking of the baby, and the noise woke Melly, who began not to cry as much as to shriek. Trying not to weep herself, August rocked the little girl and made hesitant hushing noises that helped nothing. Her arms trembled. Valkin kicked a patch of cobblestones and spoke over his sister’s wailing.

  “We just got home,” he complained. “We just got home, and now Father sends us here.”

  “At least Dorane can’t find us here,” said Neslan. “No way he will. Do you think that’s why Father made us leave? Does he think they might try to kidnap us again?”

  Valkin grumbled, “How should I know what Father thinks?”

  “August, do you know?”

  “I’m no confidante of your father’s, Neslan. Goodness! Why would the king confide in me?”

  August felt awkward all around, and guilty, because she knew more than she let on. Unable to quiet Melinda, she jolted the girl with a startled jump when the front window creaked open, the window Kora had peered through earlier. Kora stood again before it, looking troubled this time. She said, “Come in, all of you.”

  Poor August was desperate now, trying and failing continually to hush the baby. Rocking and more rocking—the only thing August could think to do—accomplished nothing. Kora lifted the child from August’s arms once everyone was inside, and Melly fell silent.

  “It’s confidence,” said the sorceress. “Babies sense insecurity, every one of them.” And Kora disappeared with her brother into the kitchen.

  August stood in an entrance hall that was tiny, and seemed tinier because of the dolls, slates, and assortment of books and wooden blocks that littered the floor. The kitchen, two rooms over, was equally cluttered with pots and pans. It was also sweltering, since Kora was baking bread. The smell made Zacry’s mouth water.

  “Lanokas gave the boys false names?” Kora said, continuing their previous conversation and shifting Melly from her right hip to her left. “He’s that worried?” She grasped a dirty teacup with her free hand, out of nervousness, and sp
un it back and forth on her tabletop.

  Zacry said, “He thought it best. It’s just a precaution.”

  “His father took precautions too, and a lot of good they did. You’re going back, then?”

  “I’m not letting those monsters get away with….”

  “Don’t make this personal, Zacry!”

  “This has nothing to do with me. It’s for those boys. You’ll take good care of them, I’m sure, but they belong with their parents. We’ll get this figured out, and I’ll come back for them.”

  “Why you? What about Vane?”

  “Vane’s fine. He’s staying behind with Gracia.”

  “Thank the Giver,” said Kora, finally letting herself relax some. She still gripped the cup with white knuckles, but it stopped rotating, ceased grating against the table.

  Her brother said, “He’s brave, that boy. Acts just like I imagine his mother did in the heat of battle. Kora, the king’s not about to let him repeat her fate.”

  “The king has no problem letting you….”

  “He doesn’t know I have a kid.”

  “Mm-hmm,” said Kora. “And why would that be?”

  “I won’t tell him. He’d feel guilty as sin.”

  “You can handle two sorcerers?”

  “I’ve already handled them, during the rescue. Vane took the boys out of danger, so I was left.”

  Kora spun the teacup again, but did not bother responding. Her brother was still just as stubborn as he’d been at age eleven. He was going back to Herezoth, that was that, and she, she could only pray he would make it out of this scandal alive, only hope he wouldn’t decide after his adventures to relocate his wife and daughter. Herezoth was so gripping, so full of life. It had a way of calling back its own. It summoned Kora every day, each time the sea breeze came from that direction, each time she marked her husband’s Yangerton accent or her children’s lack of one.

  They talk like they’re from Traigland. I’ve been here so long I don’t notice the sounds anymore, but they speak like Traiglanders. They are Traiglanders.