Kirin nodded as he laced his tunic closed. “The last ten days he had me pick one spell from a bunch and take only that one out.”
“How do you do that?” Maia asked, touching up the edge on the hair-shears with a whetstone. “Do you sit at a table and poke at spells with your fingers?”
“He had me do it that way at first, but I got really bored. I couldn’t stand sitting still for hours, and by now I’d be getting flabby from not moving enough.” Kirin grinned. “Instead he’s been finding ways to make it more fun.”
Outside a temple bell began to ring the hour. He hastily straightened his tunic. “Got to go, love.” He kissed her goodbye and ran out of the family’s quarters in happy anticipation.
* * *
Two hours later Kirin eeled through layered spells in a controlled lunge and dodged between three zigzagged pillars flaming with even more spells. His heart pounded with the excitement of a bold trapeze move. Some of these spells carried stinging sparks or disgusting odors if he set them off.
I’m doing this! he silently exulted. His Shadow surged and struggled inside his chest as he denied it one tasty spell after another.
He glided under a bar hanging from threads without jostling the glass fishermen’s floats balanced atop it, crab-crawled through a narrow tunnel with mere finger widths of clearance on either side. White and red itching spells rippled over him without effect. At the tunnel’s far end he leaped high, grabbed the first of five rings embedded in the ceiling and swung to the next without touching the floor. Each ring anchored a different spell; none reacted to his passage. After the last he dropped onto a beam barely half as wide as his own feet while evading the clatter-alert spells that rippled up and down it. He swiftly strode down its flexing length without losing his balance or triggering any magic. He leaped to another beam and at its end vaulted over a packing case. He landed in the middle of a circle of blue flames where he finally loosed his Shadow. The magic flames went out instantly.
“Very impressive,” Chisaad acknowledged from where he stood in an out-of-the way corner of the room. “Twenty-three separate spell-traps and you didn’t trigger any of them. All while moving faster than I’d have believed possible in such cramped spaces.”
Kirin grinned with the triumph coursing through him and punched his fists in the air. “Yes! I promised you I’d do everything right if you let me be physical too, didn’t I, Magister Chisaad?”
“And you kept that promise,” Chisaad nodded while shutting down the complex assembly of spells. “We’ve determined that your invisibility to magic runs the full range from tiny movement-detectors to full-scale guardian spells, and even hair-trigger-dangerous projectile traps.”
Brimming with confidence, Kirin boasted. “You should let me try a real trap, Magister. Something with an arrow or a spear, instead of these padded sticks.”
“Are those words from your reason, or do I hear your stones talking?” Chisaad inquired warningly. “Pride is one thing, recklessness quite another. How would I explain it to your family if you got your liver impaled?”
Kirin thought about what Pieter or Maia would have to say about that and deflated a little. “I guess that would be a problem.” To himself he thought, I wouldn’t get speared. I can sneak through anything!
“And speaking of ‘a problem,’ I do hope you are being circumspect in what you tell your family about the tests we run here,” the wizard cautioned. “Remember that I have been giving you opportunities that are not generally made available to less than journeyman mages, when you are not even an apprentice yet. I would be severely criticized for that if word got around. The Council might even bar me from teaching any student, much less you.”
Kirin gaped at him, shocked. “But you’re the Royal Wizard!”
“Acting Royal Wizard,” Chisaad corrected. “Still subject to Council discipline as any other mage. The Prince can dismiss me at a whim and may yet do so.”
Kirin bridled at the injustice. “But you’ve served his family for years! Doesn’t he have any sense of honor?”
“When it is convenient for him,” Chisaad muttered wryly. The wizard looked Kirin in the eye as he added, “Remember that blood counts for less of a man’s character than most people think, and upbringing for more. Despite your pale skin, Kirin DiUmbra, you are Silbari through and through. Prince Terrell was raised in the north among barbarians. A superficial polish of training and education can hide but not obliterate that unhappy truth. He will never really be a Silbari the way we are; at most he can but imitate one. Underneath—”
The wizard stopped and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. It could endanger you.”
“I’ve been careful, Magister,” Kirin promised, feeling flattered by the confidence. “I don’t gossip about my training with anybody, not neighbors, not even the rest of my family. Only my wife and my father know what you’re teaching me.”
“We must hope that is good enough.” Chisaad looked at him solemnly. “You have a new and wonderful talent, Kirin DiUmbra. The rags of old spells littering this city are a frequent nuisance to any mage casting new ones. You can cure that problem. I think I can train you to use this ability effectively and safely. Bear in mind that we are both exploring new ground in this effort and therefore we must expect demanding challenges at some point.”
Yes! Kirin exulted inside. I’m going to be important and powerful soon!
“But word of you has spread from the unfortunate events at Millago’s party,” Chisaad continued, watching him closely. “The gossip is mostly wrong and for that we should both be grateful. Nobody beyond Ymera has any accurate idea of your abilities yet, therefore they underrate your capacity. If certain ruthless individuals among this city’s mages or priestesses should come to a correct understanding before you have the training to establish yourself securely, I fear for what may happen to you, or to those you love.”
“Those I—” Kirin gulped, shocked, as his agile thoughts leaped ahead. “You mean, someone might threaten my family to control me?” Visions of strange men waving knives at pregnant Maia, or at Sevan and Carlai and their little girl, crowded his mind. No!
“Yes,” sighed the wizard, wearing a sad expression. “That is why you must be very, very careful of your words. Tell nobody what we say or do here, until you are established as someone they dare not threaten. Only then will your loved ones be safe.”
“Yes, Magister,” Kirin promised from the bottom of his heart. “Thank you for warning me.” When I am established as he says, nobody will threaten my family! Else I’ll rip their spells to pieces and, and, and I’ll make them regret it!
The wizard waved a hand. “Enough of such grim thoughts. Let us get back to practice.”
“Yes, Magister.” Kirin hesitated, dared. “Only . . . when will I become your apprentice?”
Chisaad raised one eyebrow as if he hadn’t thought about it. “There is no reason that it cannot be tomorrow. I had intended to register you with the Council sometime in the next tenday, but now that I think about it, sooner would be wisest. At least a few of the less-scrupulous figures in Aretzo will hesitate to threaten my apprentice. The rest, alas, will not be so easily put off. But it cannot hurt and may help. Wear your best clothes tomorrow morning and we will pay a visit to the Council offices.”
“Thank you, Magister,” Kirin said gratefully, and in a smaller voice added, “But these are my best clothes.”
“Ah. I have been remiss. Here.” The wizard plucked a coin purse out of a cabinet and tossed it into Kirin’s hands. “Let this be your first four tendays’ salary. Buy yourself something new and clean to wear and meet me at the Rainbow Hall when the tenth bell sounds.”
Kirin hefted the little pouch, stunned by the weight of it. A peek through the drawstrings showed the glint of depleted silver coins and he gulped. “I didn’t know apprentice mages got paid a salary.”
“They normally don’t.” The wizard’s face creased in a fleeting smile, but his eyes were intent. “Ordinary
recompense is room and board and a few coins for journeymen, and appentices are expected to pay. But it is important that you accelerate your training as fast as you possibly can, Kirin. You need to progress to at least journeyman-equivalent this very summer, if you are to keep your family safe. The work will be hard and will require that you spend many afternoons with me, which will take you away from your troupe and prevent you from contributing to their income. Thus, thirty silver dohbas every four tendays should adequately recompense them for the loss.”
“Thirty!” Kirin gulped again. That was almost as much profit as the whole Troupe’s normal tenday take performing at their old spot in the Bazaar. Half the amount that Millago had promised for his party. He would have to spend one, maybe one and a half on new clothes, but—”Thank you, Magister. I’ll work hard every day and learn everything, I promise you!”
“I have confidence in you, Kirin.” The wizard nodded to him soberly. “Now. Let us see if you can pass through a highly dynamic spell without disrupting it. I am going to make that brass plate there float back and forth across the room in an irregular pattern. Try to move through the supporting spell multiple times and see if—”
* * *
Hours later Kirin walked home through twilight gloom with the pouch carefully concealed inside his tunic. Chisaad watched him go from the topmost room of his tower. The boy quickly disappeared into the torchlit Bazaar.
I believe I have found what moves him, Chisaad thought. Now I must pull those strings delicately to shape his thoughts and especially his fears, yet not alert that father of his, who is clearly far more sophisticated than the boy.
He turned back to the table where his new golem lay, still under construction. The ovoid head sat detached on a cradle. For amusement he cast a simulacrum of the Prince’s face upon it. It looked quite life-like sitting there.
I shall have you ready soon. The Queen steadily fades in Gwythford Castle. Before she dies I must move. So, which tool will motivate the boy properly? His wife? Or his father? Either would probably work, but which can be threatened most effectively?
His gaze fell on a clear glass vial of prepared sulfur, fresh from the mines of Sulmona, and he knew the answer.
A pounding on his front door distracted him. He descended the tower and answered it to find Duke Darnaud, swathed in a dark blue cape that didn’t do enough to conceal him.
“I thought the brat would never leave,” the Gwytho lord grumbled after the door closed behind him. He handed his cape to the insect-like cleaning golem after it wiped his shoes. “You told me never to let him see me near you, but I didn’t expect to have to cool my heels in an alley!”
“An unfortunate necessity,” Chisaad soothed. “Were you successful in placing the link in Silbariki?”
“Yes.” The Gwythlo smirked and produced the other half of the enchanted link that Chisaad had provided. “I think you’ll laugh at the place we chose. I’m eager to try this, can we do it now? Ap Marn’s men have been told to expect the two of us at any time.”
“Certainly, Your Grace. Follow me; the decagram can be ready in half a candlemark. While it charges, I’d like to discuss with you an idea I had tonight. Would you be willing to acquire a servant that you’d dispose of—permanently?”
Duke Darnaud chuckled. “Tell me more.”
CHAPTER 24: KIRIN
“He kept you later than usual.” Maia set a late dinner in front of Kirin and sat next to him.
“We had a lot to talk about after practice,” Kirin reported before filling his mouth full of polenta, leeks and fish.
“What did he want to talk to you about, son?” Pieter asked; the three of them were alone in the family’s little dining room while everyone else put kids to bed, except Grandfather and Sevan the Elder who were at the Gleemen’s Guild hunting for work.
“Me. He wants me to become his apprentice tomorrow, and he’s going to pay me a journeyman’s salary!” Kirin proudly slapped the jingling pouch on the table. “I’m supposed to buy new clothes out of this and meet him at the mage guild hall to get registered!”
Pieter picked it up and spilled it on the table; thirty silver dohbas glinted. “This is far more than you need for clothes. Is this an advance on that salary for the coming year?”
Maia stared at the coins. “We’ll have to be careful to make it last.”
“It’s my pay for the next four tendays,” Kirin answered smugly. “I’ll get thirty more at the start of every fourth tenday.”
Pieter’s attention sharpened, and a troubled look came into his eyes. “Why so much?”
“He said I’m going to have to work really hard and get better control over my Shadow. I won’t have enough time to contribute to the family the way I did, so this is to make up for that while I’m training.” Kirin stuffed more food in his mouth to cover his hesitation. He didn’t want to talk about the Wizard’s darker concerns in front of Maia.
But she frowned at him after exchanging glances with Pieter, scooted her stool closer to him and laid a hand on his thigh. “Husband-mine, what else? I can tell there’s something more.”
Kirin dodged her gaze to look at Pieter, hoping for intervention. That resulted in a stern look and a finger crooked in the ‘out with it’ gesture. He swallowed, sighed, and said to her, “He told me the same thing Mother Gee told Father and me, Maia. Powerful people have heard about me and some of them are dangerous. That’s why he wants me to spend so much time training. He wants me to be ready to prove I’m powerful too, and as soon as possible, before somebody tries something.” He left the something undefined and hoped Maia wouldn’t notice.
Her frown darkened. “Don’t try to hide things from me, Kirin, I can tell when you do. He’s worried that somebody will threaten me to make you do what they want.”
Kirin curled one hand over hers in a quick squeeze, met her eyes and let his own worry show. “Yeah.”
Her other hand crept across her belly protectively and they both looked at Pieter.
He nodded his head slowly. “I’m glad the wizard sees the problem.”
“That pouch will really help the family,” Maia pointed out, rallying to put the moment of fear behind her. “After Kirin buys clothes, the rest of it will feed us all for a good ten or twenty days.”
Pieter reluctantly assented. “I don’t like this situation very much, but I can’t think of a better way to handle it. Wizard Chisaad is probably strong enough that nobody will dare try anything with his apprentice, or the rest of us. But since we can’t be sure, you had best do as he says. And we’ll all have to be extra careful from now on. Maia; don’t go anywhere without at least two of us with you every time.”
She looked down at her swollen belly and wryly said, “Simple enough, Uncle Pieter. I won’t leave the Serpent until after the baby comes. My feet will thank me for it and the stairs are already difficult.”
Pieter nodded approval. “Kirin, I’ll change our practice schedule so that you do all your sessions in the mornings, before you scamper off to the Wizard’s tower for the afternoons. But tomorrow, first thing I’ll take you to buy new clothes and get bathed, so you make a good impression on the Mage Guild.”
“I can do that.” Kirin relaxed in relief. He hadn’t been completely certain that Pieter would consent. This will work. We’ll be fine.
* * *
Kirin wandered in dim alleys of haunted sleep. He dimly knew that he fled an unnamable danger with Maia, the two of them alone and afraid. They hurried along hand in hand while she tried to support her swollen belly with her other hand and wept in silent fear. Faceless men with knives lurked around every corner. He moaned and thrashed, trying to drive them away, only to have them slip past like dancers and close on her despite all he could do. Their faces all looked like Gerlach, but the blood-mage’s Fehdaran features conflated with something horrible not of their world. Terror shook him as knives glinted red in the night.
“Mrrph? Kirin?” Maia yawned, waking him; they’d been sleeping like spoons with h
er belly resting on a special pillow that her mother had sewed. She leaned back against him, craned her neck to peer over her shoulder at him where he nestled against her back. “What’s wrong, love?”
He held her for a moment while indescribable relief flooded him. Only then did he discover that he had been shuddering. “Bad dream,” he managed to whisper into her neck. He pressed his front against her back and buried his face in her hair.
She reached back over her hip to stroke his thigh, and saucily wiggled her buttocks against him. That got the usual reaction and she chuckled. “Let’s do something to banish those bad dreams,” she suggested. “Help me turn a little.”
They fell asleep together a while later, and he slept dreamlessly until dawn.
But the next night the dream returned, Gerlach in all his horrifying foulness. And the next. And the next.
Please, oh Blessed Seraph Haroun, he prayed each night. Intercede with the One for me. Don’t let this be the madness that Ymera warned me of. Banish Gerlach from my mind, lock him away.
He tried to build a wall between the dread memory and his own mind. He didn’t quite succeed, but the dreams faded enough to let him sleep, most nights.
* * *
Days later Kirin hurried through the Bazaar toward the Old City’s evening-dark streets. Torches were being lit and customers thronged in the evening cool. His arms and legs ached in unaccustomed places from the Wizard’s latest tests, but the glow of triumph buoyed him up despite his recent nightmares. Today he had selectively killed three spells while leaving six others untouched. Then he had absorbed the residual fragments of two other broken spells without disturbing their replacements. All while moving through narrow places and over obstacles. He grinned to himself as he rounded a harness-repairer’s tent and almost ran into his younger brother-in-law.
“Kirin!” Attir hailed him excitedly. “We got a job!”
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