True Magics (15 page)

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Authors: Erik Buchanan

BOOK: True Magics
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Thomas felt his anger growing again, and heard it come out in his own voice despite his resolve to stay calm. “Why?”

It was Father Alphonse that answered. “Because, Thomas, if one who has witchcraft does good work, it does not mean that that one has not compromised his soul, or that that one will not spend an eternity being tortured at the hands of the Banished. We must show the people that the ways of witchcraft are the ways of the Banished, and the ways of damnation.”

Thomas nodded slowly, while his mind raced. At last, he said, “Your Grace is very kind to come see me personally.”

“This is important,” said the Archbishop. “More important than you can realize.”

Why?
Thomas practically screamed, though the words never left his head.
Why am I so important? Why can’t you just leave me alone?
“Does your Grace expect me to make a decision today?”

“It would be best if you did,” said Father Alphonse. “The longer you wait, the greater grows the suspicion, and the more intently the Church must scrutinize you.” His gaze shifted to Eileen for a long moment. “And all those around you.”

“You would be able to return to your studies, once your penance is done,” said the Archbishop. “And you would be able to do so with a clear conscience, knowing you have helped prevent other souls from straying as you have.”

But I haven’t strayed anywhere,
Thomas thought. The magic was a part of him, and no amount of public penance would change that. He took a deep breath, and forced himself to sit up as straight as possible and look the Archbishop in the eye. “I am sorry, your Grace. I am afraid that I cannot.”

“Cannot?” repeated the Archbishop, his eyebrows rising.

“I answer to the king,” said Thomas. “Not to the High Father’s Church.”

“You risk your soul for your king?” demanded Father Alphonse.

Thomas ignored him. “I have never consorted with the Banished. I have not compromised my soul, and I will not do so now by lying.” He forced a breath in, then another. “I believe the tea should be ready, if you would like a cup.”

The Archbishop shook his head, and pulled himself slowly to his feet. “I am afraid not, Thomas Flarety. I have other appointments today, and I cannot stay. I do thank you for the warmth of your fire and for your time.”

Thomas rose and fetched the Archbishop’s cloak, and held it while the man put it on. When it was secure, the Archbishop held out his ring. Thomas bowed low and kissed it.

“There is time to change your mind,” said Archbishop Culverton. “Not much time, but some. If you do, please come to me. Or even if you just wish to speak with me about this. I shall receive you at any hour, and I guarantee your safe entry and exit.”

“I thank you,” said Thomas, straightening.
But it’s not going to happen.

The Archbishop leaned on one of the guard’s arms as he went down to the carriage. Father Alphonse took his time standing and walking to the door. He stopped in the doorway and watched the Archbishop descend.

“You’re hiding, Thomas,” Father Alphonse said. “You’re hiding behind your king’s robe while you consort with the Banished and accept their gifts of power.”

Thomas had to actively restrain himself from throwing the man down the stairs. “The Archbishop awaits you, Father Alphonse.”

“If I were you, I would come out of hiding quickly,” the Chief Inquisitor said. “The kings of Criethe are not to be trusted in times like these. When the Archbishop’s patience runs out, the king will not protect you.” He looked back at Eileen. “Nor those you care about…”

If you hurt any of them, I will kill you,
Thomas swore to himself, knowing anything he said out loud would come back to haunt him. He watched in silence as the Father Alphonse carefully limped down the stairs and got into the carriage. Thomas waited until the guards mounted and the carriage drove off before he closed the door. As soon as it was shut, Eileen ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. For a time they just stood there, gasping as if they’d both just run a race.

“You’re shaking,” said Eileen said.

“I know.” Thomas gently pushed Eileen away and looked down at his hands. Rage rose up in him and he fought the urge to destroy something, anything, just to drive it out. “What in the name of the Four was that about? Why would the Archbishop come here? Why?” He pushed his fists hard against the sides of his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He made himself breathe slow and steady until he felt something close to normal. He let his hands drop to his sides and opened his eyes. Eileen was watching him, her own eyes wide.

“I’m all right, now,” Thomas said.

“No, you’re not,” said Eileen. “You’re… frightening. You look ready to commit murder.”

“Well, that’s true,” said Thomas. His hands were still shaking. He tried putting on a smile, though he suspected it looked ghastly. “Today was supposed to be about you,” he said. “We were supposed to have a nice, relaxing lunch and I was going to try to make you feel better.” His laugh came out brittle and false. “So that didn’t work out, did it?”

Eileen shook her head. “No.” She tried a smile. “But we still haven’t eaten yet.”

“No,” said Thomas. “No, we haven’t. I’ll get the food onto the stove.”

They were curled up on the couch, staring into the fire when Henry came home two hours later. They’d manage to eat, but neither had much to say.

“Well, aren’t you two cozy?” said Henry, stepping in the door and letting in a gust of cold, wet air. He saw the looks on their faces and frowned. “What’s this about Eileen insulting the Fencing Master and walking out of the class?”

“I didn’t insult him,” said Eileen. “Thomas did.”

“He insulted Eileen said Thomas. “He threw Eileen out and didn’t let her salute, so I left without saluting him.”

“Which is an insult.”

“Not going to argue about it, Henry.”

“All right,” said Henry. “How were the rest of your classes?”

“No one except Professor Dodds let me into their classes,” said Eileen. “You saw how that turned out.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “What else happened?”

“We had a visit,” said Thomas, “from the Archbishop.”

Henry hung up his cloak and sat down in his chair. He managed to sound almost calm when he said. “And what did the Archbishop want?”

“Me to confess my sins, renounce witchcraft and give my life over to the Church of the High Father,” said Thomas. “Apparently, having someone using magic for good is bad for the Church.”

“Interesting,” said Henry. “Why didn’t he arrest you?”

“Appearances,” said Thomas. “I need to show that I’m a true son of the Church.” He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It didn’t work at all. “I haven’t the slightest idea what to do about this. The Archbishop. Here! Trying to convince me to change sides! Why would he do that?”

“No idea,” said Henry. “What are you wearing to the party?”

Thomas’s memory jolted. He groaned. “Oh, by the Four, I’d forgotten.”

“Party?” said Eileen. “Whose party?”

“Malcolm Bright’s,” said Thomas. “The merchant on the beach. He’s having a Festival of the Rains party tonight.”

“And you’re going?” Eileen sounded horrified “What about Cormac? And Anthony and Ethan? What if they’re there?”

“They won’t be,” said Thomas. “Malcolm was appalled by them.”

“Are you sure about that?” demanded Eileen. “What if he’s on their side?”

“Then I’ll find out when I get there,” said Thomas. “Malcolm said it was a place I could meet people with ‘similar interests.’ He might have meant people who do magic. And that means I have to go.”

Eileen frowned. “That’s a pretty big might.”

“I know,” said Thomas. “But the king told me to find magicians, so I’ve got to keep looking.”

“When does it start?”

Thomas pushed himself off the couch and went to his coat. He pulled the invitation out of the inside pocket. “It starts at the first bell of night,” he said, reading it. “Four hours from now.”

“Four hours?” Eileen jumped to her feet, appalled. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I need to get dressed!”

“You?” Thomas shook his head. “It’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be…”

“Thomas, I have had a whole day of people saying ‘shouldn’t’ to me,” Eileen warned. “I am going to the party and I’m going to help you, so don’t argue about it!” She ran to the door to grab her cloak. “I need to have a bath and get cleaned up before I can even think of changing. And so do the two of you! Get moving!”

8

In the next four hours, Thomas and Henry managed to escort Eileen home, get baths at a nearby bathhouse, get dry, and get dressed for the party. At Henry’s suggestion, Thomas wore the black formal uniform Henry had commissioned for him in Frostmire. Henry, in contrast, was dressed in crimson from his cloak to his boots. Both wore their rapiers.

They arrived back at the forge with time to spare and stepped right into the middle of an argument.

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you come with us?” Eileen was demanding

“Because you’re not going!” said George. “It’s a stupid risk and I forbid it!”

“It’s not!” Eileen shouted. “It’s a
party.
What do you think is going to happen?”

“If it’s just a party, why are you bringing the rapier?”

“Because I’m walking through the city at night, George, why do you think?”

“Well, it looks stupid with the dress!”

“Actually, I think it’s rather dashing,” said Henry. “How about you, Thomas?”

“It’s…” Thomas swallowed, caught between Eileen’s glare and George’s glower. Eileen was wearing her fiery orange dress, and with the rapier in her hand looked at once dangerous, beautiful, exotic and strong. Thomas felt a warm flush crawling up his neck to his cheeks. He managed, “You look wonderful.”

“She looks ridiculous,” said George, “and she wouldn’t have to wear it if you weren’t dragging her into trouble again!”

“He’s not
dragging
me!”

“No, he just leads the way and you come running after!”

Eileen turned her back on her brother. “George thinks it’s stupid for me to go.”

“It is stupid!” thundered George. He rounded on Thomas. “It’s stupid to go looking for magicians with the Archbishop after you and it’s even stupider to take Eileen with you!”

“Say it louder, George,” snapped Thomas. “I don’t think they heard you in Frostmire.”

“Don’t give me that!” George snarled back. “Eileen told me what happened this afternoon!”

“Then you know the Archbishop isn’t going to do anything right away! He said I have time.”

George rolled his eyes in exasperation. “And we’ve never known the Church to lie before, have we? What if they see you doing magic?”

“I won’t be doing any magic!”

“Then how are you going to defend yourself?”

“The same way I am!” snapped Eileen. She pulled her coat on over her orange gown and started strapping her sword-belt over top of it. “Come with us, George. You have your clothes from Frostmire. You can get changed in no time and you can
come with us!

“I’ll not!” said George, his jaw setting. “I’ll not be doing this again!” He pointed a grease-stained finger at Eileen. “And you’re not going either!”

“If you children are quite done,” said Henry, “We have to go meet the others who ‘know what it is to be blessed.’”

George’s eyebrows went up. “What?”

Thomas sighed. “That’s what Malcolm Bright said.”

“And you’re still going to his party?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Eileen isn’t!”

“Eileen is already gone,” said Eileen as she stomped toward the door. “And if you want to make a scene in the street you try and stop me!”

George stood, bright red and fuming beside his anvil.

“I’ll take care of her, George,” said Thomas, going after her. “I promise.”

“And a lot of good your promises do,” George growled. Thomas bit the inside of his cheek and kept walking. Henry was on his heels a moment later. It was a good half-block before any of them dared look back. When Thomas finally did he saw George standing in his doorway, watching them until they turned a corner out of sight.

“By the Four, he’s a brick sometimes,” growled Eileen.

“He wants you safe,” said Thomas. “He’s just worried.”

“Well, I’d be a sight safer with him here, wouldn’t I?”

Eileen stewed about it for the rest of the walk.

The streets were filled with people coming home for the night, and none paid them much attention to the three save to glance at their swords and keep out of their way. Thomas, Eileen and Henry walked around the city walls and to a neighbourhood with clean cobblestone streets and large, comfortable houses near the western gates. It had close access to the warehouses and docks that probably brought most of the men’s wealth to them.

When they reached Malcolm’s house, Thomas stopped in the street, staring at it. He pulled out the invitation and double-checked it. “This is it.”

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