Blood and Shadow (The Mage's Gift Book 1)

by Robin Lythgoe

  The entire family? Six cousins and their little ones, gone. “Did you do it?”

  Bairith’s brows rose. “I didn’t even know the man.”

  His jaw tightened. “You killed my brothers and their servants. You killed twelve men just to acquire me. Perhaps my uncle and his sons threatened you.”

  “I understand your bitterness about your brothers. The servants are of little matter; they were with you to serve.”

  “But not to die!”

  Bairith made a dismissive gesture. “You refuse to understand that your brothers made a choice. I did not want them dead. In fact, I did my utmost to preserve them.”

  “To be your slaves.”

  “Is that what you think I want?” His laugh was a sweet trill, though not effeminate in the least. “No, my son, I want so much more than that for you. A slave is a tool, inconsequential past his ability to perform a task. You and I will be partners—more than partners. You will see; it will be glorious.”

  To control his immediate urge to spit in the jansu’s face, Sherakai lowered his head and glared at the stone beneath his feet. A shift of his glance brought Fesh into view. He counted the scars visible beneath the rough hair. How could the beast suffer so much hurt and still serve Bairith so willingly? “What will my part in this union be?” The word ‘union’ put a sour taste in his mouth.

  “That depends entirely upon you. The stronger you are, physically and magically, the more we can accomplish together. You will have to work hard, but you have natural talent and we can put the rest to rights. I have every confidence in you.”

  “Put the rest to rights?” he echoed before he could stop himself. “You’re going to fix me?”

  “Call it what you will, we’ve already begun, have we not?” Bairith remained unruffled. “Better meals, safety, suitable exercise. All these things are for your benefit, Sherakai.”

  “Will you use magic?”

  Elbows on the arms of his chair, his fingertips met in a pyramid. “I cannot teach you anything useful about magic if we don’t use it, and magic—like any other knowledge—changes a man.”

  He wanted to protest, to argue, but it would serve no purpose. Bairith could say anything he liked, and Sherakai would still leave. “I suppose that is true,” he admitted. It had a ring of truth to it, though he suspected the jansu would apply just enough of the truth to get what he needed. “How did they die?” The question was born of a dual need. He had to change the subject before he ended up shouting useless arguments, and he truly wanted to hear the answer.

  “Who?”

  “My uncle and my cousins.” Anger blossomed. How could Bairith so easily forget the news he’d just delivered?

  “I’m sorry.” The jansu lowered his head in regret, posed for a moment, then got up to approach Sherakai. “You’ve just suffered terrible news, and here I am leaping ahead in my thoughts. You have my deepest sympathies, of course.”

  Sherakai swallowed and tried not to stiffen as Bairith gently stroked his cheek. “How did they die?”

  “I am uncertain of the details. A riot in the Garden District resulted in a fire. It swept through the entire area and scores died.” He shifted to rest his hand on the back of Sherakai’s neck. His sweet cicely scent drifted through the air. It was a pretty flower, white and delicate, but the flavor was strong. It fit the jansu’s exotic character. “Such a sad thing. It is fortunate that you are here rather than in the city. I will take care of you, you know.” His voice dropped to a soothing murmur.

  Sherakai’s breathing quickened and he clenched his teeth. He had no response that wasn’t likely to get him slapped. “W-will I be allowed to attend the memorial?”

  “I don’t know if there is one. Even so, I’ve learned that keeping oneself busy in times of distress is the best way to weather the storm. Iniki is eager to resume your lessons.”

  “I’m sure.” The man always had a wicked smile when he set Fesh and Teth to Sherakai’s heels. “I imagine he is waiting for me in the training chamber. May I be excused?”

  Bairith slipped the backs of his fingers along Sherakai’s jaw. “Is my company so unpleasant that you must hurry to leave it?”

  “No, but I am not certain he will believe me when I tell him why I am late.”

  His words earned a little, indulgent chuckle. “I will have a word with him, but as soon as he declares you recovered I will be appropriating time with you myself. You’ve much to learn, and I am eager to teach you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You may go.”

  With Fesh and Teth on either side, Sherakai made his way through the maze of halls and stairs to the training area. He stopped once to lean against the wall, the cold stone a blessing on his forehead. How could an entire family be wiped out by one fire? His uncle had a large brood, and several of them had offspring as well. Had they all been together? Had not one father or mother grabbed their children and run from the danger?

  Fesh nosed Sherakai’s hand and he yanked away. Hugging himself, head bowed, he struggled against tears. He remembered boating on Maiden Lake outside of the city, attending one of the saints’ festivals, and playing in the enormous tree fronting his uncle’s house. A cousin his age had played at hunting in the gardens with him. They’d caught nothing but trouble for ruining a patch of flowers whose stems made fine arrows.

  Stars, what of his mother? Did she know? How was she coping with the news after the deaths of her sons?

  He drew back his fist to punch the wall, only to have Fesh dart forward to catch his wrist in a grip of iron. He yelped when talons sank into his skin. Fesh gave him a look of reprimand. When he let go, Sherakai took several automatic steps away, cradling his hand against his chest. The beast’s speed shocked him as much as the strength of its grip.

  Fesh sat down again, teeth exposed in a frightening smile.

  Blood dotted Sherakai’s wrist. He sucked on it, glaring at the demon, who was decidedly unimpressed. “What was that for?” he demanded.

  The creature just continued smiling. Its companion walked a little distance down the hall, then looked back impatiently.

  With a grumble under his breath, Sherakai followed. Fesh trotted along at his side, herding him. He resented it, but he resented everything about Heaven’s Gate except his sister. Worry for her health weighed on him.

  “Ah, you decided to put in an appearance,” Mage Iniki greeted when the trio joined him near the spectator benches.

  “The jansu requested that I join him.” He saw no need to share what he’d been told.

  “Did he, now.” He looked at the demons as if for confirmation. Teth met his gaze evenly and gave away nothing. Fesh sat down and bent around to gnaw an itch on his hindquarters. Sherakai found himself hard pressed not to laugh at the snub.

  “Yes, sir. He said you’d miss me.”

  Iniki snorted. “Yes. I’ve nothing at all to do with my days unless you are available to put through your paces. How is your leg?”

  “Better.” Sherakai gave him a tight, humorless smile. “Are we running again today?”

  “Yes, and every day until I say otherwise. No doubt your slothfulness this morning will prove a setback.”

  “If I may ask, do you use your gift to make it harder for me to run?” He peeled off his tunic, then the remarkably fine shirt. He folded them neatly and laid them on the bench.

  Iniki pursed his lips. “I hadn’t thought about it, but that might be entertaining. Barefoot today.”

  A protest rose in him. He squashed it. “Yes, sir.” Obediently, he removed his boots and set them by his clothes. Humble submission made him want to choke. Whistling to Fesh and Teth, he set off around the arena, leaving Iniki staring after him.

  Chapter 51

  Six straight days with no appreciable break had an effect that could not go unnoticed. Every swing of the staff Sherakai wielded came slower, every blow rattled his teeth. Iniki, on the other hand, persisted for hours with little more than a hint of perspiration on his brow. With
a flourishing swing, he knocked the youth’s feet out from under him. While Sherakai lay panting in the sand, the mage leaned on his staff to inspect his pupil with a critical eye.

  “Your endurance is poor.”

  “Yes, sir.” Who was he to argue? He wiped one clothbound wrist across his face to get rid of sweat and sand, but he’d done it so many times that the fabric was filthy.

  “Are you sickly?”

  He winced. “Not particularly.”

  “A boy your age should not be so weak.”

  “I confess I did not used to spend most of each day in the practice ring.” He used to imagine a couple of hours was difficult to endure.

  “Ah, I see. Spoiled, then.”

  “Delightfully. Until you and your master came along.” He drew one knee up to make breathing easier.

  “Your master, too.” Iniki gave him a wicked smile. “This is good for you. Get up.”

  “Please, no…” Closing his eyes proved a mistake. Iniki’s staff thumped hard against his side.

  “Up, boy, or the next one will be harder.”

  With a groan, Sherakai rolled to his side and staggered upright. He could hardly hold the wretched staff, never mind swinging it. That fact didn’t bother his instructor, who promptly launched into an attack. Sherakai defended badly and received four more bruises for his effort before a powerful blow glanced off his forehead and stretched him out in the sand again.

  He thought he heard a cry, but it didn’t come from him. He was too tired to do more than gasp and blink.

  Iniki prodded him. “Perhaps more running. With the weights.”

  “That sounds fun,” he lied. An exploration of his head revealed that the trickle of warmth came from blood, not sweat.

  “You do not take your training seriously.”

  “Oh, I do. I often wake in the night, shouting praises.” Or something like that.

  “Cramps?”

  “Yes.” He pushed himself up on one elbow.

  Iniki dropped his staff and crouched to help. “Easy, there.” Experienced fingers probed the wound. “You need more vegetables.”

  He squinted in puzzlement. “For my head?”

  “For the cramps.”

  “How do you know these things? Vegetables?”

  “Go see Healer Tylond.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “I don’t care.” Getting to his feet, Iniki pulled Sherakai up with him.

  Swaying dangerously, he gripped the mage’s shirtfront. He got to wear a shirt. Immediately realizing the intimacy, he jerked back, pushing Iniki’s hand away. The world circled like a mad thing around him.

  With one brow down, his teacher watched him. “You can stand on your own?”

  “Of course.” False bravado worked on both of them, didn’t it?

  “Good. Go see the healer. If you do not, I will know it and I will set you to running with a yoke of full buckets again.” It built strength and endurance. Or so he said. Sherakai thought the sheer weight of it would likely make him shorter.

  “Your affection is going to my head.” Carefully, he retrieved his staff and started walking. One of the demons trotted out to meet him. He wasn’t sure which, but the solid shoulder against his thigh helped him stay upright. He forgot himself enough to catch hold of the creature’s coarse ruff.

  “Sherakai?”

  A woman’s voice plucked at his attention. He blinked owlishly in her direction.

  “Stars, are you all right?” Her arm encircled him and he blinked again.

  “Ru? What are you doing here?”

  “Watching you get your head caved in. Come sit down.”

  “I’m supposed to go see the healer.”

  “Yes, I heard. Sit for a minute before you fall.” She guided him to a bench. When she’d made sure he wouldn’t topple over, she fetched a cup of water from one of the barrels hung with cups on hooks for the soldiers to drink from.

  Fesh stretched out on the sand, gray eyes watching as Sherakai helped his sister hold the cup to his mouth. Water dribbled down his chin.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  He squinted. “Three.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “I am the prince of fools.”

  “Yes, but that’s beside the point. Do you know where you are?”

  “I’m in the bowels of Bairith Mindar’s outrageously named Gates of Heaven. If this is heaven, then I would prefer to go to the Abyss, thank you.”

  Mimeru blew out an exasperated sigh. She produced a wet cloth seemingly from nowhere and set to washing his wound.

  “Ow! Gods.”

  She punched his shoulder and went right back to what she was doing. “Watch what you say.”

  “Why do you get to say ‘gods’ but I don’t?”

  “I was calling on them. You’re just cursing.”

  “You believe in them?”

  “The gods?” She paused to look at his face. “Yes, I do. Most especially I believe in the All Father. I cannot imagine how dismal my life would be without knowing he is there, watching over me and guiding me.”

  “How do you know he is?”

  He could just make out the way she nibbled on her lip before she answered. “If I am listening—truly listening—I can understand the choices that lay before me, and I can feel which one I must take. If I ignore it, I do so at my peril.”

  “Have you? Ignored the… feeling?”

  “Yes,” she said shortly, with vehemence. “I should have paid attention and refused Bairith’s proposal.”

  “Oh.” What an awful thing to realize after the fact.

  “It is a connection that must be nurtured.” Evidently, she’d brought a second cup of water, for she dipped her cloth into it, squeezed out the excess, and held it against his throbbing skull. “Iniki is right. As much as I would like you to stay away from Tylond completely, you may have a brain injury. I am not ready for you to die because of a stupid bang on the head.”

  He wrinkled his nose at the anger in her voice. “I’d rather not die at all.”

  “I almost yelled at him for driving you so hard. I thought about running out to help you.”

  “That would go over well,” he said drily.

  “I wanted to kick him in the shins—both of them—for hitting you in the head.”

  “I’d have liked to see that.” He let out a short laugh. “Chimoke worked me hard, but nothing like this. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it up.”

  “For as long as it takes.” Taking his hand, she moved it to hold the rag in place, then sat next to him. “You can use all the training they will give you, all the knowledge they impart, every resource they supply.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, but the expression in her eyes was sharp as a sword. “Use your knowledge and training to defeat them. You must know their ways to do that. Inside and out.”

  “That might take a long time. Years, Ru.” Worry nibbled at him.

  She drew a breath as if to brace herself, then took his free hand in hers. “We don’t have years. If we are to live, we must get away from here as soon as possible. But if I—”

  “No. Do not even think about dying. You can’t die.” The worry blossomed into fear.

  “I would rather not die, either, besh me, but we must consider the possibility that Tylond’s tampering will take my life before we can both get away.”

  “No!” he cried, and she pressed a finger to his mouth.

  “We will make our plans together. We will make another in case you need it. I need to know that you will be all right, with or without me.”

  He shook his head, fighting tears prompted by fear and exhaustion. “I won’t,” he protested. “I can’t lose you, too, Mimeru. What would I do without you?”

  “What if you had come here alone? If I wasn’t here?” she demanded.

  “Fight.” He swallowed the lump of despair.

  “You’d better,” she growled, and thumped her fist against his chest. “Don’t let them w
in, but fight smart, Kai. You must be careful. Think things through no matter how difficult it is or how much you want to leap at the first opportunity. It may be a trap.”

  “It’s always been a trap, hasn’t it?”

  “Oh, my sweetling… I don’t know. Maybe. Not knowing was a disadvantage.” She caught his chin and lifted his head. “We know now, and even if he keeps us prisoner, he can never own our hearts or our souls unless we surrender them to him. Do you understand?”

  “I-I think so. But I don’t know if I can do this alone.”

  “I hope you don’t have to. Whether I am here or not, you must decide if you will win or lose. Here,” she jabbed his chest. “It is that simple.”

  He had never seen such fierceness in her. It was both beautiful and frightening. “Simple, right,” he echoed, recalling just how hard it had been to get up off the sand. Without doubt, the training would only get harder. He’d needed Iniki’s help to stand. Or had he? Iniki had offered and he had accepted. Was that surrendering or using his resources? He decided upon the latter and vowed to pay more careful attention in the future. “And you? You can decide to live.”

  “You’re a stubborn thing,” she laughed softly. “Don’t ever stop being stubborn. I made up my mind a long time ago to live, but I haven’t been brave enough to do what it takes to get away. You’ve brought me courage. Don’t take it away by collapsing right here on the sands because of a little bump on the head. Go see the worm.”

  “Only because I love you.” He kissed her cheek and got to his feet. Fesh rose from his sprawl in the sand came to offer his support. With Teth loping ahead, Sherakai went in search of the worm.

  Chapter 52

  Silent attendants served the morning meal in a chamber Bairith called the keyem sama, a sunroom. Indeed, sunlight streamed unbridled through a roof and one wall made of costly glass, chasing away all the shadows. Nary a single panel of drapery or tapestry softened the remaining walls. No carpets warmed the floor. No plants relieved the stark stone. In a gilded cage in the center of the table an odd, ugly creature the size of a hen crooned a sweet melody. Its huge eyes and spiky head didn’t look like they belonged to its gloriously feathered wings and tail.