If only Anonoei had not been taken. If only one of her sons were still alive. Someone to be a focal point for Icewegian patriots. Keel would not be regent himself, but it would be someone that he trusted—perhaps even Anonoei. Since she was no mage at all, and a compliant woman, she would be easy to guide.
But she was gone, and so were her sons. It was a terrible time for those who loved Iceway. If only King Prayard were a better king, and not the doting lover of that Sparrowgirl Bexoi.
It was one of Keel’s talents that he could conduct his ordinary business while plotting his plots; he did not have to talk his plans out with anyone, nor did he need to draw maps or doodle words and notes. He seemed to others to be busy all the time; they did not know what was going on behind his eyes.
His meeting with the heads of two quarreling merchant families ended—he had almost, but not quite, grabbed them by the hair and banged their foolish heads together. They were both young, too young for so much responsibility. Only men who were old enough for their temper to be cool were fit to lead in matters of commerce.
Or revolution. Or war. Sometimes Keel even wondered if he was still too young.
It hardly mattered. Since none of his plans worked out, he would be old soon enough. Maybe he needed to be more hotheaded, and not so careful.
Then again, hotheads were quickly caught and killed. Keel got where he was by being methodical and silent.
As he was silent now, alone in his small office overlooking the armory yard. He strode to the window and looked out over the hum of activity. He knew the purpose of every man and woman who crossed the yard, knew what was in every wagon, what was being forged by every fire.
“Do not turn from the window. Do not show any sign that you are not alone.”
It was a woman’s voice. He knew the voice. It was Anonoei.
But he did not turn. If she was alive, if she was here, then something powerful and dangerous was going on.
So he said nothing, did not turn. He waited.
“Now, as if you were weary of watching, close the shutter, my old friend.”
Wordlessly—for he did not want anyone below to glance up and see his lips moving, and thus conclude that he was not alone—he closed the shutters and then turned.
There she stood, looking exactly as she had the morning when he told her to pack for herself and her sons, only the smallest bag of the least clothes, only what she needed for two days. Instead the foolish woman had made a big production of packing a trunk, and someone must have seen, must have said what she was doing, and so she had been taken.
But she was still beautiful. Still warm and comforting in the way she looked at every man. As so many times before, Keel thought: I can see why the King loves this woman.
He certainly forgot her quickly enough when she was gone.
“I’m sorry I could not send you word before now,” she said softly.
“I feared that you were dead.”
“So did I, sometimes,” said Anonoei. “And other times I wished that I could die. But now I am glad to be alive, and glad of my friends. Are you my friend?”
Keel shook his head. “I am the loyal servant of—”
“Oh, my dear, my dear old friend,” said Anonoei, “I know what you are the loyal servant of.”
“Who?” he asked.
“Some say you serve only your own career. Some say you serve the factories as once you served the shipyards. Some say you serve your family’s ambitions. Some say you serve the King like his faithful dog.”
“Dogs turn on their masters; when the master falls, when he dies, the dog will drink his blood and tear his flesh.”
“Always a cheerful man,” said Anonoei. “I know you serve something higher than your own career, higher than your family, higher than the King. I know that you are loyal to Iceway.”
“Are you going to pretend that you share this loyalty?” asked Keel.
“Are you going to ask where I have been?” asked Anonoei.
“No,” said Keel. “If you don’t want me to know, then your answer would be a lie; if you want me to know, you’ll tell me without my asking.”
“My loyalty is to my children,” said Anonoei, “but thanks to a trusted friend, they are now safe, in a place where no one can find them, let alone harm them.”
“One might suppose that you are saying they are dead,” said Keel.
“Not dead. Very much alive, and ready to inherit the kingdom, if the need for that arises. But I hope it does not arise.”
Keel wasn’t sure how to hear her words. With anyone else, he would assume that it was all a sham—that she was telling the truth by denying it. But there was something about her that made him think she might be honest.
“You hope the Sparrow Queen’s wombling will take their place?”
“Those sons were born from love, not ambition,” said Anonoei. “I think they will be happier not to be kings, or to be used by those who want to make them kings. But if they’re needed, they’re alive and safe. I thought you should know.”
“It was kind of you to tell me,” said Keel. He let the tone of his voice say, If that’s all, then go away.
“You’re an amazing fellow, Keel. A woman that you thought was dead shows up in your cell and you seem utterly unsurprised.”
“If I showed what I feel then all men would know my heart,” said Keel.
“Instead, only I do.”
“Your new friend is a gatemage,” said Keel. “Or else you could not have entered this place. Be careful—gatemages have a way of running afoul of the Gate Thief and losing all their magery. You wouldn’t want to be stranded somewhere inaccessible. I hope your boys are in a place they can walk away from, when the gates are gone.”
Anonoei smiled a thin but pleasant smile. Keel was a clever man. He knew what the smile had to mean.
“The liar told you that he was the Gate Thief, didn’t he? Don’t you know that gatemages can never tell the truth? It’s against their nature.”
“Let’s talk about what we’re going to do now,” said Anonoei.
There was nothing overtly sexual or even ironic in her tone, and yet “what we’re going to do now” made Keel’s thoughts suddenly turn to the rumpled bed in the corner of the room.
“Not now,” said Anonoei, as if she had read his thoughts. It seemed some women could always read such thoughts, when men had them. Or perhaps men always had such thoughts, so it took no great cleverness to read them. “I know you plan to kill the King, but I wish that you would not.”
“You do me no favor to say that,” said Keel. “I have no such plan.”
“That was your plan when you told me to pack. I obeyed you, but made it obvious enough that surely someone would notice me and tell the King, so he could prevent my going.”
“Did he?”
“Someone else did,” said Anonoei. “I will not let you kill the King.”
Keel shrugged. “Since I do not plan to do this awful crime,” he began.
Then he found himself outside the door of his room. He had not moved, or rather, he had made no effort to move. Yet he had been inside the room, and now he was outside it.
The door opened. “Come in,” said Anonoei. “Do you believe me now when I say that you will not kill anyone I tell you not to kill?”
“So you’re a mage after all,” said Keel, reentering the room.
“Am I?”
“Or that gatemage friend of yours is listening, sending me here and there at your command.”
“Oh, no one commands him, dear Keel. You have the magery of iron. It does what you command, your machinery never needs oiling, your iron never rusts. That is what you do.”
“And what do you do?” asked Keel.
She reached out and touched his hand.
All at once his body filled with a bright longing for her to wrap her arms around him.
And then, just as quickly, she shifted her hand and he felt himself to be unworthy of her love. He did not want her to embrace h
im, he wanted her to overlook him entirely.
She took his hand between both her hands and all those feelings fled. Now between them there was only a deep, abiding friendship. The most important friendship of their lives.
“Manmage,” he whispered.
“I did not want you to think I was untalented,” she said. “Or that my sons were only half-mages by their birth.”
“How can I trust anything I think or feel or decide, if you can make me swing from one longing to another in a moment?”
“Don’t base your decision on how you feel,” she said. “You never have; why start now? I came to you because you’re the steady one. You chose your loyalty and never wavered. I have no desire to change that loyalty—only to explain why your perfect loyalty should lead you to another course of action.”
“Another?” asked Keel. “I have no course of action, so I can hardly change it.”
“I will not attempt to control your decision,” said Anonoei, “but do remember how useless it is for you to try to lie to me. You’re a subtle man, Keel, and you tell your secrets to no one but me.”
“I have no secrets.”
“It will not be good for Iceway if King Prayard dies. Yes, my sons are alive, but I will not bring them back until they’re old enough to stand up for themselves. This is a bad time for the chaos of a dead king without an heir, or with only an unborn baby to inherit. The jarlingmoot will insist on electing an adult as king, breaking the line. But there’s no one ready to stand as king. Not even you.”
He knew that she was right.
“I want Queen Bexoi’s baby to be born alive,” said Anonoei. “It’s good for Iceway if Gray believes that a half-Gray child is next in line for Iceway’s throne.”
Because she was communicating with him at levels deeper than speech, he understood exactly what she meant. “You think the child can be controlled?”
“I think the mother means to kill the King herself and rule Iceway through him.”
“And you think this is a reason to allow the sparrowbitch to live?”
“I think this is a reason to keep the King away from her.”
“I’ll take her to an island far from here and strand her on the shore—will that do?”
“She would burn the ship to the waterline before she’d let it take her anywhere,” said Anonoei.
“A firemage,” said Keel. “Not a Feathergirl.”
“A Firemaster at least,” said Anonoei. “And so powerful she can make a clant that bleeds.”
Now Keel understood why Luvix had been so sure that he had killed Bexoi.
“I should have guessed it,” said Keel.
“No one else did,” said Anonoei.
“Except you,” said Keel.
“I don’t guess,” said Anonoei. “You must be more patient than you have been so far.”
“What if I choose to ignore your warning?”
“Then I’ll find someone else to help me,” said Anonoei, “and you can watch the people suffer as you destroy Iceway. As I said, my loyalty is not to Iceway, though our plans can help each other if you choose.”
“What do you want me to do?” said Keel, believing her but also knowing that his belief was probably the result of her magery.
“Give me time,” she said. “Give me a chance to go work my plans in Gray. Let me shape events so Gray’s ambitious heir grows impatient with his father. Let it be Gray that collapses in chaos, while Bexoi is here, nursing and protecting her second son. Let’s see whether her motherly love is stronger than her ambition. Either she’ll stay here and remain safe, or she’ll go—and leave her son behind.”
Keel did not have to say all that immediately came into his mind. That Anonoei wanted Bexoi’s son, and not one of her own, to be the pawn in the game of succession. That if Bexoi left her child behind, the child would be under Keel’s control. That if she took the child with her, King Prayard would be without an heir if something happened to Bexoi and the boy. That if she remained here in Nassassa, under Prayard’s protection, then Anonoei would have a free hand to work whatever mischief she and her gatemage friend might be planning for Gray.
It was a much better plan than anything that had been within Keel’s power.
“I wish I could trust my approval of your plan,” said Keel.
“I’m not that strong a manmage,” said Anonoei. “I can’t make you want what you do not want. I can’t make you fear what you do not fear. I can’t make you think of what you do not already know.”
“Then what can you do?”
“I can work on weak-minded people who don’t know what they want, who aren’t smart enough to fear what they should fear, and who think they know already what they do not know. That’s the drawback of manmagery—all our forced servants are weak and dull. So I come to you, not to be my servant, but to be my friend and ally.”
Keel thought of how, at a touch, she had made him want her.
But he must have shown on his face that he was thinking of this, because she shook her head. “I did not make you feel what you did not feel,” she said. “I made you aware of what you had always felt.”
And he knew that it was true. That all the time the King had loved Anonoei, Keel had also longed for her. He had such self-control that he had concealed his desire even from himself. But it was always there.
“Let’s be clear on one point,” said Anonoei. “I know you have that desire, and I am specifically not exploiting it. Whatever you do, you must do it in the full knowledge that I will never be yours. I have all the sons I need and want, and all the husbands, too. Do you understand?”
It was as if she had erected a wall of ice inside his loins. “I do not act for such reasons,” he said.
“That’s why you’re worth dealing with,” she said. “You’re good at what you do, and I am good at what I do, each within our limitations. Mage against mage, neither of us is a match for Bexoi. Perhaps no one is in all the world. But we won’t stand against her. In fact, we will stand with her, protecting her, protecting her son. As long as she and that boy are alive, Gray will be torn apart by conflicting ambitions. And by her choices, she will reveal herself and expose herself and, in the end, betray herself.”
“You have a plan far deeper than the one you’re telling me,” said Keel.
“And you will have plans within plans. But know this: I keep my word. I know that you keep yours. So if you promise me that you will act together with me, then I know that you’ll be my ally until you give me fair notice that our pact is over.”
“Yes,” said Keel. “You understand me well enough, and I make that pact. I will not take the King’s life. I will protect Bexoi and her baby. I will give you time to work your workings in Gray.”
Anonoei smiled. “I always knew you were the natural king of Iceway. Because only you act for the good of all, and not just for your family or your own ambition.”
“I have no ambition.”
“You have the large ambition of a patriot,” said Anonoei. She took him by the shoulders and kissed him on the mouth—not a woman’s kiss, but the kiss of a sister, a friend. “Count on me, and I will count on you.”
And then her hands were not on his shoulders, her breath not on his cheek. She was gone from the room, vanished in an instant. Her gatemage had taken her.
And Keel was left there alone with the deep longing for her that had never caused him pain before, because he had not known that it was there. He would die for her, kill for her. He loved her more than he loved his wife or his children, more than he loved his own life. More than he loved Iceway.
If only she would use her power to take this powerful desire away from him.
Yet if he lost that desire, who would he be? What would be in his heart then, if she were gone from it?
15
RUNNING ON AUTOMATIC
It wasn’t a real track meet. Officially, it was an “exhibition” between two high schools, Rockbridge County and Parry McCluer, months before the actual season began
. More like two boxers sparring to keep in shape. Like pre-season football. Like nothing.
Only you’d never know that from the way Coach Lieder was taking it. Apparently the future of the human race depended on the outcome of every event. If a Parry McCluer athlete won, the human race was safe for another year. If one of the kids from Lexington won, then the alien assault ship was that much closer to landing and enslaving all of human life. Lieder didn’t get angry at the losers, he got despondent. He even said, “We’re doomed, we’re doomed.” Even though his team was doing a little better than the other guys.
When the manager—a sophomore that Danny barely knew—pointed this out, Lieder looked at him with pity. “Oh, we don’t suck as bad as Rockbridge. That’s like going out with an ugly girl and saying, ‘Well, at least she’s breathing.’”
Since Danny suspected the manager had never gone out on any date, “breathing” would have been an improvement for him. But the kid wisely said nothing.
Danny won the 1600 and 3200 meters easily, but Lieder glowered at him and pointed out that he was nowhere near his best time. “It was a race,” said Danny. “I won it.”
“But you didn’t try,” said Lieder.
“I didn’t have to,” said Danny. And then inspiration struck. “You want to show these guys my best? In November?”
Lieder thought about this. “So you think you’re our secret weapon.”
“I’ve only been running competitively for a few weeks,” said Danny. “If I’m a weapon, it’s still secret from me.”
Lieder turned his back and walked away. Which, for Lieder, was like an apology.
But then Lieder got the bright idea of tossing Danny into the 200 meters with no prep.
“I’m tired,” said Danny.
“You don’t get tired,” said Lieder.
“Of course I get tired,” said Danny.
“Ricken is limping like a big baby. If you’re in the race, he’ll try harder.”
Danny had committed to the team, which meant obeying the coach, even when he was pushing his athletes too hard in an event that meant nothing. So he said, “Sure thing,” and went to take his place at the starting line.
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