Kora repeated, “I kept that secret for a reason. He was a kid when all that happened, a child. Don’t you think I considered telling him the whole story? That I’ve spent days discussing this with Parker? My mother doesn’t even know. She doesn’t know the half of all we went through. She wouldn’t be able to handle it, and Zac, Zac’s the last person….”
“He might have been a child then. He’s not anymore. You don’t always have to protect him. He’s a capable young man.”
“You had no right to tell him, Lanokas. I wouldn’t have told you at the time, had what I’d done not compromised us all. But thank you, at least, for admitting what you did.”
“I figured you should know.”
Kora sighed. “I should, yes. And I figure it’s time we went back to the tavern.”
The sky was now a darkening shade of lavender-tinged pink. The tide had begun to go out.
“In a minute,” said the king. “In a minute. I’ll have to deal with the kidnappers when I return, and I’m in no rush for that. Listen, Kora, I’m still horrified the Fist saw you. Like I told you before, I’ll send Vane if I foresee trouble, and he….”
“I know he’d come straightaway. I’ll have plenty of time to plan for the worst, and notice before it hits, if things come to that. I’m not worried. My biggest concern’s that you made clear this evening what….” She searched for words. “You discussed the impact you feel I’ve made on your life. We avoided that topic when you first brought Vane to me, purposefully, I think, on both sides. Well, we weren’t as guarded tonight. Some words slipped out, and I don’t know if that’s for better or for worse, but I can’t let you leave for good without getting more out in the open.
“I’m more blessed than you’ll ever know to say I had you as a confidant at the worst moments of my life. When I felt tempted to give up, you’d remind me I had reasons to plug on. Quickly, much too quickly, you became one of those reasons yourself. I was younger than you were, hunted and vulnerable. I trusted you implicitly, told you everything, and though you could have taken advantage of that in any number of ways, you never did. You always acted for my interest over yours. It was only later, years later, I was able to look back with some degree of clarity, and I realized how truly vulnerable I was, how lucky I am you were always so selfless.
“I may have known I’d regret us getting involved, or doing something crazy like fleeing together, but that doesn’t mean I could have resisted had you pushed me. You must have realized that, and I’m grateful for your respect. I’m grateful you’re such an integral part of the person I’ve become, and as painful as the end was, as much as I would have liked more closure than we got…. In truth, I can’t imagine life without Parker, and I can’t imagine it without my memories of you. Lanokas, did you mean what you said before? That you’ve never loved Gracia as much as you loved me?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. I don’t know where that came from.”
“I know you love your wife. You were willing to wait for Brianna before she married someone else, you treated me with the utmost consideration: you would never have used Gracia for political gain, or to put me from your mind. Please, don’t dwell on what you said. That was the flush of the moment. Old emotions heating after years of having cooled, nothing more. Go home, go home and make things right with Gracia, and be happy. Apologize, sincerely, for not taking her wishes in account. Stress it wasn’t your intention to be cold. You were focused so entirely on your children’s welfare and on being a decent father that you forgot to be a husband. You forgot she was frightened and hurting too, not just the boys. There’s not a doubt in my mind your family is the most important thing in your life, and always will be. Make her see that. You’re so genuine, so sincere, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Thanks for that, Kora.” He paused. “You do understand why we shouldn’t keep in contact?”
“That’s the right call, Lanokas.”
“It’s not that I’m not grateful.”
“I understand, really I do.”
“I owe everything I have, everything I am, to you and the League. I’m under no delusions of where I’d be on my own. I would have been dead years ago, dead the day of Zalski’s coup.”
Kora said, “No one ever accused you of ingratitude. Least of all me.”
“I suppose we really should join Zac and Vane now.”
“I guess we should. Lanokas, it’s been nice to talk again with an old companion, like we used to do, but without the strain of being on watch, of never knowing whether soldiers might appear….”
“I do miss our talks, even still. They’re one of the few things I miss from those days.”
“I miss them too,” said Kora. “I really miss them too.” She gave him a friendly hug—she judged that the thing to do—and together they headed inland, their backs to the sea.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Of Rings
When Kora got home the next morning, she found Kansten amongst the clutter of fabric, clothing, dolls, blocks, and balls in the sitting room. She was hunched up in the corner, a book against her knees, staring at the far wall instead of the open page. It was early, only nine o’clock, and the sun streaming through the eastern windows lit the house with a glare that hurt Kora’s eyes.
Kansten had never been much of a reader. She would rather do something active most days, but she was feeling down again. Ryne’s snakebite had taken her mind from herself, but now his recovery seemed certain, and she’d grown self-absorbed once more. She was unsure whether she should talk to her mother about magic. A part of her wanted to, but she worried Kora would grow angry with her for trying to cast a spell.
When Kansten heard someone walk in, she assumed it was her Grams. Kora called her name instead, and the book slid off Kansten’s knees.
Kora asked, “Where’s everyone else?”
“The boys are outside with Grams—well, my brothers are, and Laskenay and Tressa. Not the other boys. Dad’s at the smithy already. Everyone else is at Uncle Zac’s.”
“So what are you doing inside?”
“What does it look like?”
“Kansten Cason….”
Kansten recognized the warning note in Kora’s voice. She sighed. “Fairytales. I’m reading fairytales.”
“And why is that?”
“I didn’t feel like going out.”
Kora tossed the book aside and took a seat by her eldest daughter. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I think you should.”
“Well, I don’t want to, and you don’t want to hear about it. You’re not feeling good.”
“I feel much better now. That’s why I’m home again. So out with it, girl.”
Kora smiled at her, which gave Kansten encouragement. She told about sneaking into Uncle Zac’s office with Tommy, about finding the open spellbook and trying to work an incantation.
“But I couldn’t. I can’t do magic like I should.”
“You think there’s something wrong with you because you should be able to cast spells? Kancat, there’s no should about it. If magic isn’t one of your talents, then you’re not meant to be a sorceress, that’s all. You have so many other gifts. You’re so passionate.”
Kansten’s voice softened. “I’m not a disappointment? You wouldn’t like me better if I could cast spells like you?”
Kora wrapped her daughter in her arms. “Are you kidding? I love you so much, there’s no room in my heart to love you more. It would have to explode if I tried. The most powerful spell in the world couldn’t make me love you better, all right?”
“All right,” said Kansten.
“How’d you like to try one more time to cast a spell? Right now, with me? Just to make sure? You never know. It’s possible you mispronounced a word, or…. Magic is subtle sometimes. It’s fickle. Don’t get your hopes up, now. If you tried and failed, chances are you can’t work magic. That would be just fine, it would, but I th
ink we should try together, to remove any doubt about the situation. What do you think?”
Kansten shrugged in apathy. She knew she was no sorceress. “We can try, I guess. If you want to.”
“Wait here,” Kora said, and went to the kitchen. She returned with an unlit, half-consumed taper in a candlestick. Kansten clambered to her feet, and Kora placed the taper on her mother’s chair. “We’ll try to light it,” she said, “using magic,” and pulled her daughter close. “You want to know a secret? This was the first spell I ever cast.”
“You lit a candle?”
“I lit a book on fire, accidentally. It was the book where I found the incantation. Can you imagine?”
Kora demonstrated the spell; the taper lit, and she blew it out. Kansten repeated the incantation, Fwaig Commenz, three or four times, gazing at the candle like her mother told her and concentrating as hard as she could, so hard her head began to ache. No flame. The girl sniffled so as not to cry, and her mother put a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m so jealous,” said Kora. Her daughter looked up, confused. “Sorcery’s not all games and power, you know. There have been times, lots of them, when I wished I couldn’t work magic at all. I’d give almost anything not to have magic. I don’t want the responsibility.”
“But why? Is that why you don’t do magic anymore? Mom, you used to cast spells? If I could do magic, I’d never wish that away.”
“It’s something you’ll understand later in life. As for me, I can tell you more about my journey with magic in a few years. You’re still a bit young right now. That’s why I wanted you to wait to cast your first spells, you know: so I could tell you about how magic’s affected my life at the same time. I had a reason. I wasn’t just trying to annoy you, though it probably felt that way.”
“You’re mad at me.”
Kora took her daughter’s hands in hers. “Not at all. Kancat, not at all. I’m not upset with you. I wish you’d waited to try magic like I asked you to, that’s all.”
“You know what I wish?” said the girl. “I wish I could experience magic. Could know what it’s like to cast a spell, just once. Just one stinking time.”
The side of Kora’s lip turned up in a devilish grin. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t you run outside to Grams? Tell her you’re going by the back roads to the general store, just to take a walk. Don’t mention I came back.”
Kansten looked suspicious. “Why?”
“She’ll want to talk to me, so don’t tell her I’m here. Come back inside, and if you promise not to talk about it—you can’t tell your brothers, or your father, not anyone—you and I can take a walk along the beach. We’ll travel there by magic. I know it’ll be my magic, but I’ve transported by myself and I’ve tagged along with others, and it feels exactly the same. You feel a little shocked, a little winded, and your muscles ache for a second. We can spend some time together, just you and me by the ocean, and then we’ll head back the same way, using magic. It’ll be our secret. What do you think?”
“I think that’s fantastic,” Kansten said.
Kora ruffled the girl’s hair. “Run off to Grams, then. I’ll be in the kitchen when you come back in.”
Kansten jumped to her feet. A second later she was out the door, and Kora took a deep breath.
I can’t believe she has no magic. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t even seem possible, not after all the ways magic’s ruined me. Well, Kansten won’t have to worry about such things. The stares, the hatred, the jealousy and fear, the moral quagmires…. The Giver bless her, she won’t know any of that. At least she won’t, if only her.
That another of her children would be powerless, let alone all four, seemed too much to hope. But Kansten, at least, could live a normal life, unlike her mother, torn from her home by her sorcery. Unlike her uncle, who would go back to Herezoth and wind up getting entwined with Rexson’s council; Kora foresaw that easily. Unlike Vane, who as the only sorcerer-duke would suffer the scrutiny of the entire kingdom from the moment he declared himself, and whose mere presence in the court would embroil him in conflict. Kora could only hope the conflict would remain political, that no one would try to harm the boy.
He’s not a boy, he’s a man now. He’s got a heart like his mother. He’s determined to take his proper place, and he’ll have the best ally I could ask for him in Lanokas. He’s doing what he must, like Laskenay. Exactly like Laskenay. As much as I’d like to, I can’t protect him any longer on her behalf.
Kora was exhausted. She doubted she had slept three hours the night before, but she pushed herself to her feet and went to the kitchen. She realized she had not eaten since the previous evening. The jar of nuts on the top shelf was full, so she grabbed a handful and chewed them absent-mindedly. She usually avoided nuts. They reminded her of the Crimson League; nuts were one of the few victuals in vast, cheap supply back then. They kept well and were easy to pack, and she and her companions had eaten them almost daily.
Kansten skipped in, grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s go,” she prodded.
“All right, you. Just a moment,” said Kora.
I can’t believe she’s not a sorceress, but I’m glad. For her own sake, I’m so glad.
Kora put up the nuts—she knew Ilana had fed the children breakfast—and took Kansten’s hand. “This will be a bit tricky,” she told her daughter. “We’ll have to transport someplace there won’t be people to see us appear. I know an area close to the beach with lots of shrubs. I’ll take us there, all right? They’ll hide us.”
“All right, all right! Let’s go already.”
“Hold tight,” said Kora, and she transported them near a patch of shrubbery back behind the tavern where she had passed the night. When they got there, Kansten was red-faced and breathing hard, as though she had just run a sprint or something had knocked her in the chest. Her eyes, though, were bright and elated.
“That’s awesome,” she panted. “Awesome. We were just at home. Now we’re…. Where are we, Mom?”
“Just a couple short blocks from the beach.”
Kora led her daughter around the building, a sturdy wooden shack of sorts, and together they reached the shoreline in no time at all. The morning was chilly for August, and overcast, so the beach was mostly deserted. Mother and daughter walked in the opposite direction than Kora had taken the previous night, toward a circular stone building just inland of the coast that everyone called the Ring. It was the summer palace of Traigland’s royals and famous for its courtyard, which boasted an artificial pond and a greenhouse. When Kansten saw the structure, she stopped short.
“What is it?” Kora asked her.
“I’ve never been to this part of the beach before.”
“You’ve never seen the Ring?”
“Mom, it’s incredible. I love it. I’d love to….”
“Live there?” Kora laughed. “I think we all would.”
“I’d love to build something like that.”
Kora did a double take. “Really?”
“I never knew buildings didn’t have to be square. I’ve only seen our neighborhood, the houses and the stores there, and they’re all so ordinary. They’re all the same, really. But that…. Mom, I’d love to build that, to design something that special, buildings like no one’s made before. What do you call someone who does that?”
“An architect.”
“I want to be an architect. If I can’t be a sorceress, I want to be an architect.”
Kora smiled. “You’ll have to work hard at math for that.”
“Math’s my favorite subject at school. It’s fun. It’s like a puzzle.”
“You’ll have to go to the university, to the capital. That’s a long way from home, and they don’t let many girls study there.”
“They’ll let me study. I won’t let them tell me no.”
“As far as I know, they’ve never let a girl in. Not for that kind of training.”
“Really?” Kansten’s face fell. “Mom, bu
t why? That’s not fair.” She kicked the sand. “Nothing’s fair! Nothing’s….”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t dream, or that you shouldn’t try as hard as you can to study in Traigland City. You should do your best in school, and I know you will. You’re dedicated when you care about something. That’s one of the qualities I love most about you. Sometimes, though, you can do everything the right way and things don’t happen like you want them to. No matter how determined you are, they just don’t happen. You know that now. Not having magic taught you that, because you want magic more than anything, don’t you?”
The girl nodded, her face serious, and Kora continued. “I’m sorry, Kancat. I’m sorry that no matter how many spells you memorize, you can’t make yourself a sorceress. I think that’s what’s really upset you the past few days. It’s not that you aren’t a sorceress right now. It’s that you’ll never be able to become one. And that’s all right. You’ll learn to accept you don’t have magic, and if acceptance takes time, that’s all right too. It hasn’t been an easy lesson, has it? None of us likes to admit that sometimes, for some things, all the wishing and working and dedication in the world, it’s just not enough.” Kora sighed. “It can’t bring you where you want to go.”
“That’s why fairytales are dumb,” said Kansten. “They’re dumb. They lie. Everyone who’s good gets what they want at the end.”
“You listen to me: you might not be a sorceress, but you can get what you want. You can make good things happen for yourself and for other people, too. If you want to be an architect, then be one. If they don’t let you study in the capital, find a working architect to take you on, to teach you what he knows. Or you could teach yourself, from books. That’s hard, very hard, but it’s possible. If this remains your dream, don’t let it go because you’ll have obstacles.”
“Can we walk closer to the building, Mom?”
“Of course we can.”
Kansten ran ahead, her feet flinging sand. Kora lagged behind, out of range of the flying particles, wondering whether Kansten’s fascination with architecture would fade when she came to terms with her lack of magic.
The Magic Council (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 24
