by Lee, A. H.
“Yet.” Mal grinned and pushed his head through the collar.
Azrael sighed and stood up. “You think you want a piece of me, but you’ve already got more pieces than you realize. I have your magic inside me.”
“Yes, but I want to put my cock inside you.”
Jessica’s voice issued from the open window of the cottage. “Such a gentleman, Mal. Classy.”
“Classy isn’t working!”
Mal glanced at Azrael to see if he was angry. Azrael had a hand over his face. It took Mal a moment to realize he was laughing. “Are you going to be like this all week?”
“Yes.”
Azrael put his hands in his pockets and stared at the porch ceiling. “I should probably just pay you now and get it over with.”
Mal scooted forward. “Really?”
Azrael looked down at him. “No. Come on, let’s set up some wards.”
Chapter 6
Jessica
Jessica had never watched Mal and Azrael setting up wards before. It wasn’t as interesting as she’d expected. Azrael borrowed their largest pot, which he filled with salt water, a number of herbs, and several drops of his own blood. He sang spells while it came to a boil. Then he dipped all kinds of things into the water—bones, yarn, bits of paper, small stones, feathers, animal skins.
Soon the cottage was full of drying miscellaneous objects. Mal grumbled that everything was harder this far from the Shattered Sea. Occasionally, Azrael had to look up information in one of the half dozen books he’d brought with him. Sometimes, he asked Mal questions about the auras of various things. Then they started walking around the cottage and garden, placing charms, sprinkling water, spreading salt, and arguing about ley lines.
Jessica didn’t want to interrupt them, but when they stopped for lunch, she asked, “Where is Lucy?”
Mal rolled his eyes. He’d been a panther all morning, but he’d taken his human shape for lunch. “I’m sure she’s in his pocket. She’s too valuable to leave in an inn. Speaking of which, where are you sleeping?”
Azrael ignored him. To Jessica, he said, “You’d probably like Lucy. I’ll bring her out for a little while this evening. She’s elderly and too much activity exhausts her, but she’s very powerful when she’s alert. I’ve been saving her for the inaugural ball. I think I’ll need her then.”
“You should bring me to the inaugural ball,” said Mal. “I’m more powerful than Lucy.”
“I think that might be unwise.”
“Why? Just because I’m not bound?”
Azrael took a bite of his roast goose sandwich. He took his time chewing and swallowing. “The High Mage Council has summoned me to stand trial for dark magic.” He said it so casually that he might have been making a grocery list. “I need more salt. Also, I’m on trial for dark magic.”
Jessica nearly choked on her sandwich.
Mal, however, didn’t look any more impressed than Azrael. “Those clowns? Surely you’ll just ignore them.”
“That was my plan,” said Azrael between bites. “But I would prefer to ignore them from my own territory. It’ll be harder if they catch me in Kotos. If they catch me with an unbound astral demon…they’ll think their solstice gifts came early.”
Mal made a face. “We can pretend I’m bound.”
“I may not think much of the High Mage Council, Mal, but I’d be a fool to suppose they can’t tell the difference. Unless you want me to actually bind you again.”
For once, Mal had no comment.
“Who are these people?” asked Jessica. “If you don’t respect their authority, why worry about them at all?”
Azrael considered. “The High Mage Council is an idea that has been tried several times over the past few decades. It’s a good idea in theory—to make magicians responsible to an authority that can police them.”
“In practice, the sort of people who volunteer to be on a Council just want to control everyone else for their own gain,” said Mal.
Azrael shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I do know they’re elitists who don’t like me because they don’t know my family.”
“They’d like you even less if they did,” said Mal.
“True.”
Mal leaned forward with a more serious expression. “They don’t like you because they can’t control you and you don’t ask anyone’s permission. Rulers who used to consult them come to you instead.”
Azrael nodded. To Jessica, he said, “This latest iteration of the High Mage Council came into being five years ago after the last attempt fell into squabbling anarchy. This new Council has some powerful members, particularly south of the Shattered Sea, and they are trying to demonstrate that they have real authority. Bringing me to trial, even if they acquit me, demonstrates that authority.”
“The best policy is to treat them like the self-appointed asses they are,” said Mal. “If you acknowledge them, even just to be polite, it only makes them more aggressive and more dangerous. Next thing you know, they’re handing you a list of rules and looking over your shoulder in your own home.”
“They did take out a couple of rogue wizards this year,” observed Azrael.
“Yes, and I’m sure they’d like to add you to that list…rogue wizard.”
Azrael sipped his tea, “That’s rogue sorcerer to you.”
“Lord Rogue Sorcerer.”
Jessica smiled. “I know this sounds ignorant, but what is the difference?”
“Wizards have their own magic,” said Mal at once. “A sorcerer has to take it from people like you and me.”
“Wizards are much more common,” said Azrael. “Some of them have quite a lot of magic. They can use it up or overwork it like a muscle. It comes back with rest and nourishment. The people who raised me thought I was a very weak wizard.”
“You were one hell of a surprise,” said Mal cheerfully.
Azrael did not smile. “Sorcerers have a larger capacity for containing and shaping magic than any wizard. We just can’t make it ourselves. We’re…conductive. We’re also very rare. The people who raised me had no reason to think I was anything except a weak wizard with just enough magical aptitude to help clean up the messes at a magical school. I didn’t know any different myself for a long time.”
“Before I met other magicians, I thought they were all like him,” said Mal to Jessica. “They’re not. If you meet any, you’ll see. Nobody is like him.”
“That sounded almost like a compliment,” said Azrael.
“You’ve got my magic in you,” said Mal loftily. “How could they be?”
Jessica started to laugh.
“What?” asked Mal.
“You can finish each other’s sentences, but you can’t figure out how to take each other’s clothes off without somebody dying.”
Neither of them seemed to know how to respond to this. Jessica got up and opened a kitchen drawer. “I was thinking…we should go out in the evenings. There are all kinds of harvest events right now—plays and exhibits and musical performances. Tanisea is an artsy town with a long theater history; that’s why I wanted to come here. Also…” She carried a stack of cards and envelopes from the drawer to the kitchen table and spread them out. “Mal and I get invited to a lot of parties.”
Azrael laughed. He ran a finger through the colorful pile. “Are these all for upcoming events?”
Jessica nodded. “I throw them away if we’ve already gone or the event has passed.”
Azrael selected a brilliantly colored card with twining carp in blue water with flowers floating above. “That’s for a wedding,” said Jessica. “My sword instructor’s niece is marrying a local actor—very successful. The gardens where they’re having the reception are lovely, and the carp in the pools are famous. They sell them all over the world.”
“I recognize them,” murmured Azrael.
“Well, let’s go to that!” said Jessica.
“And you can buy carp for me to chase!” exclaimed Mal.
Azrael shot h
im a poisonous glare. “My ornamental carp are not for your entertainment. I wondered why they’d been doing so much better the last few months.”
Mal stood up and gathered their empty plates. “Yeah, but you’d rather have me home than have carp, right?”
Azrael said nothing. Jessica thought Mal was trying to be casual, but he did, in fact, want an answer. She watched Azrael curiously out of the corners of her eyes as he continued to sift through the pile of invitations. You asked whether we’d be back, and you looked so relieved when we said yes. But that was before you got used to Mal being gone. Before you found other sources of magic. Before you made new wards.
“I have assigned you a suite in the palace,” said Azrael without looking up. “I believe it’s large enough for…parties. The kind of parties you’d want to host.”
Mal turned from the sink with a startled expression. “But…I live in your suite. I’ve always lived in your suite.”
“Don’t be absurd. Do you really think Jessica wants to sleep on your rug with you?”
“Of course not!” sputtered Mal. “I don’t want to sleep on the rug, either. I’ll sleep in your bed where I belong!”
Azrael glanced at Jessica as though to say, Please disabuse him of this nonsense.
Jessica considered. “You would have to get a bigger bed.”
“Oh for gods’ sakes.” Azrael pushed his chair back and stood up. “What part of ‘one night’ do the two of you not understand?”
“We’re not even talking about sex,” objected Mal.
Jessica felt like the discussion was getting out of hand. “We can talk about all of this later. Lord Azrael, will you be able to go into town for dinner? Will you be at a stopping place by then?”
“Of course,” said Azrael. “And now that I think about it…I need to do a little shopping. I need a local map, preferably made with local materials.”
“I can help you find that,” said Jessica.
“I might have to go into town, too,” said Mal with an edge to his voice. “I’ll have to feed soon if you keep using my magic like dish soap.”
Chapter 7
Jessica
Three hours later, they started toward town. Mal and Azrael weren’t saying much to each other, not even to argue about ley lines. Jessica offered to give Mal some of her own magic. “So both of us will feel sick?” he snapped.
“There’s a party at Geraldine’s tonight,” said Jessica. “Those parties are always full of sexual energy and willing partners.”
Mal only nodded. Jessica knew he was feeling drained, but she also thought he was feeling rejected. Why do Mal and Azrael have such a hard time with each other?
The farmer let Jessica and Mal borrow horses whenever they asked, although Mal hated to ride. The walk was less than two miles. Jessica said she didn’t mind walking back, so Azrael offered to give her a ride on his own horse. Mal ran alongside them as a panther, dipping into the ditch or the woods whenever they encountered other travelers.
When they reached the last stand of trees before town, Mal shifted into his human form. Jessica had brought him clothes that were dressier than what he could make for himself. She and Azrael got down from the horse. Azrael led the animal as they strolled past the cheerfully colored homes and little front gardens into the outskirts of Tanisea.
Jessica paused to shimmy out of the trousers she’d been wearing under her dress for horseback riding. The dress itself was made of silk-lined wool in holly green, with black velvet collar and cuffs. It was warm enough to wear without a coat in the mild fall of the Provinces.
Mal adjusted his waistcoat and jacket. “Where are you staying?” he asked Azrael.
“The Elderflower Inn. They also supplied the horse; they’ve got a stable. I’ll return her and pick up a few things.”
The inn was on their side of town. Azrael spent a few moments fussing over the horse and talking to the stable boy while Mal and Jessica waited. Then they followed him into the big creaking farmhouse that had been converted into a half dozen guestrooms. He turned down one hall, unlocked a door and said, “Wait here; I’ll only be a moment.”
“Oh, come on,” rumbled Mal. “At least let us see where you’re staying. I bet it’s nicer than that garret you keep at home.”
“The garret to which you wish to return?”
“Yes, that one.”
Azrael opened the door, but he stopped so abruptly that Mal nearly ran into him. Jessica caught a glimpse of the room beyond—spacious, but a little stuffy with doilies everywhere and a canopied bed with too many frills.
At the foot of the bed lay a monster. Jessica only barely saw it before she looked away. The thing was black and half as big as the bed. It seemed to be composed of shadows and eyes, crumpled in a mind-bending pile. A single long, clawed hand extended from the pile along the polished wood floor. It was exceedingly disturbing.
It also appeared to be dead. Across from the monster, at a desk by the window, sat a gentleman that Jessica’s mind immediately labeled, “knight.” He had a fringe of white-frosted red hair around his mostly bald pate, and a neatly trimmed beard on the kind of square-jawed face that comes with intense physical training. He was wearing a doublet and kilt, which were entirely wrong for the Provinces, but they suited him. A broadsword lay across his knees. He was polishing it with a cloth.
The man’s eyes rose to meet Azrael’s in the doorway. There was a heartbeat’s pause, during which Jessica wondered whether they were about to do battle. Mal stared over Azrael’s shoulder, his posture as rigid as his master’s. If he’d been a panther, Jessica was sure he would have hissed.
Then Azrael strode into the room. Jessica noticed that his hand slid into his pocket, where she was sure he was carrying weaponized spells. For the moment, however, he didn’t draw them. “Lord Loudain. We’ve always been on good terms, so I’ll give you one sentence to explain why you’ve broken into my room and are lying in wait for me with a weapon.”
The knight stood, sheathed his sword, and bowed. He was roughly the same height as Mal and just as broad in the shoulders. Jessica stared at his face. There was something vaguely familiar about it. “Lord Azrael. I realize my appearance here is unexpected and not entirely proper, but I wasn’t sure how else to contact you. This shadow monster came out of the mirror while I was waiting.”
“That’s more than one sentence,” said Azrael, “and I still don’t know why you’re here.” He drew his hand out of his pocket, where a blue flame blossomed in his palm. It danced between his fingers, looking hungry.
The knight huffed. “You should thank me; that monster probably would have devoured you this evening.”
“I doubt that,” growled Mal over Azrael’s shoulder. “He’s good at setting things on fire. Really good at it.”
The knight’s gaze shifted to Mal. “Who and what are you?”
Mal dissolved into the panther. Jessica could not repress a groan of frustration. The waistcoat ripped in half, the trousers tore, and even the shirt was ruined by the time Mal flung himself out of it. He stood there, bristling, looking enormous and terrifying beside Azrael’s cool, straight profile.
The knight, however, looked almost relieved. “Well, that’s good to know.” His eyes skipped to Jessica. “And that one?”
Jessica wasn’t sure what to do, so she came forward and stood beside Azrael on the other side from Mal. Azrael didn’t look at her, but he let her take his arm. The knight—Lord Loudain—studied her for a moment. “So you’re Jessica. The one who writes to Thomas.”
This startled her enough to take a closer look at him. Thomas… “Tod,” she whispered. “You’re Tod’s…father?”
He smiled and she couldn’t dislike him. “Grandfather,” she corrected and he nodded. Tod’s family has magic. “Are you a wizard?”
He inclined his head. “I assume our local tyrant has added you to his collection to compensate for his lack of personal charm.”
“Also my lack of personal patience,” snapped Azrae
l. “An explanation, Loudain. Now.”
“I came to warn you about the Council and its intentions,” said Lord Loudain, his voice softening. “Come on, kid, stop posturing. We both know I owe you. I’m not out to get you.”
Azrael’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I didn’t. I guessed. Based on…” For the first time, he faltered.
Jessica put her hand to her mouth. “Based on my letters to Tod.” She glanced at Azrael. “My lord…”
Azrael shook his head as though to dismiss her apology. “You came because you knew she was here, not me?”
Loudain nodded. “I knew you weren’t on the Shrouded Isle. I guessed you had gone to find her or…” His eyes skipped to Mal. “Him.”
Azrael relaxed a fraction. “Who else knows?”
“No one.”
So, the location of your gate is still a secret, thought Jessica with relief. Perhaps I shouldn’t have put my return address on my letters, but how was I supposed to know?
Azrael closed his hand over the blue flame, and it vanished. He dropped Jessica’s arm, turned, and shut the door to the room. Mal was still bristling, and Lord Loudain watched him carefully. “There is no need to warn me about the Council,” said Azrael. He was relaxing into his role as statesman, the battle mage vanishing like Mal’s retracted claws. “I’m not going anywhere near them.”
Loudain sighed and massaged his temples. “But you need to. Azrael, if you keep behaving like a law unto yourself, someone is going to deal with you.”
Azrael said nothing.
“I know you could take any one of us in a fight,” continued Loudain. “Any magician in the Shattered Sea. We all know that. But if a group unites against you…” He took a step nearer. “Kid, you’re good. You’re not just good at magic. It is my opinion that you are good. You understand?”
Azrael looked unimpressed. “Please move out of my way so that I can clean up the mess you’ve left on my floor.”
Loudain moved and then joined him in kneeling beside the monster. Jessica forced herself to look at it. The thing was like a quilt made of shadow and covered with pale eyes—reflective grayish white like a fish’s belly. The eyes were all glazed and staring in random directions.
