Mage's Blood (86 page)

‘Nor lost your heart,’ Elena murmured. ‘Cera, why did you accept that offer to marry Salim? Why didn’t you confer with your council?’

‘Because to delay would have been to insult them and threaten everything we’ve worked for.’ Cera bit her lip. The ambassadors had departed, leaving a parting gift: a silver collar, the traditional Amteh adornment for a betrothed noblewoman. It sat about Cera’s throat now, chafing her skin. It would be exchanged for one of gold on the wedding day.

‘But—’

Cera cut her off with a gesture. ‘I must ensure the Nesti survive, that before anything else. Do you understand? That is my only imperative.’ Cera hugged herself morosely. ‘We are foxes in a trap, but this marriage gives us the chance to free ourselves.’

Elena nodded sadly.
But I hoped for more for you
.
I have heard of the ways of sultans’ harems: they are like vipers-nests, full of intrigue and gossip, and you will be the ferang there, the outsider
.

Cera looked sideways at her, her face sly. ‘Perhaps after the Crusade Salim will be dead and I can renege on my promise.’

Elena felt a chill at this display of callousness.
It reminds me too much of Gurvon – or how I used to be myself
. She consciously swallowed her doubts and changed the subject. ‘I have scryed Lorenzo. He will be back soon with Solinde.’

Cera nodded shortly, not meeting her eyes.

Does she know about my affair with him – is she jealous? Rukka mio, I can’t deal with that
… ‘There have been no more murders in the slums,’ she reported, changing the subject. ‘Our patrols may have made Gurvon pull back.’

‘But you haven’t found him,’ Cera replied, sounding distracted.

‘No, I’m sorry. There was never much chance of finding him so easily.’ She tried to inject enthusiasm into her voice. ‘There are still clues to follow, and a breakthrough we must discuss.’

Cera looked up warily, curious. ‘Yes?’

‘It’s about the murder of Fernando Tolidi. There is a study of gnosis called Necromancy, which concerns speaking with the dead.’

Cera blinked, making the holy sign of Sol, the protection from evil. ‘What of it?’

‘Would it shock you to hear that I have dug up Tolidi’s body and performed a necromantic working, to try and determine who killed him? Spirits often bear psychic traces of the moment of death. I needed to find out if Tolidi did, to lead us to his killer.’

Cera looked troubled. ‘You never told me. The priests would condemn this.’ She sucked on her upper lip, then leaned forward and whispered, ‘Did you learn anything?’

‘Not much – a dead soul’s recollection of their own demise is usually confusing; it can jump from remembrance into fantasy. I saw a blurred vision of a thin male of pale complexion with red hair. But I also saw Fernando with Solinde, and both this young male and Solinde wore the same nightdress. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced the strange male and Solinde were one and the same.’

‘What?’ Cera sat up. ‘What do you mean?’

Elena rubbed her chin. ‘This is what I think, Cera: remember the divinations we did a few weeks ago in the blood-rooms? Remember the lizard and the coin?’

‘You told me that a lizard means a shapeshifter and a coin means corruption.’

‘Exactly – but there is another interpretation. There is a notorious shapeshifter who has appeared in the past decade, known simply as “Coin”.’

Cera sucked in her breath. ‘A shapeshifter? Are you saying—?’

‘That the Solinde we sent to the Krak may not really be Solinde? That it might be Coin? Yes, that’s what I’m saying.’

Cera’s hands went to her mouth. ‘Sol et Lune, the things you people do – digging up the dead, shapeshifting …’ Her voice trailed off, and then, in a deathly whisper, she said, ‘Where is the real Solinde?’

Elena hung her head. ‘I don’t know. Shapeshifters don’t like to leave the real person they are mimicking alive.’ As Cera glowered at her, her eyes wet, she added, ‘I’m so sorry, Cera. It is true, we magi can do dreadful things, I admit that. But everything I do is for you: I swear it.’

Cera looked about to retort with some bitter comment, but then thought better of it. ‘When would it have happened?’ she asked, brushing at her eyes.

‘Probably the day after your father was killed. Remember we were told her behaviour changed that day? We put it down to shock, or perhaps Gurvon’s gnosis, but it may be that it was Coin all along.’

‘But you tested Solinde before we sent her to the Krak—’

‘I did, but if Coin is powerful, I would not have detected his presence – and Coin is reputedly the most able shifter ever known. Morphic-gnosis is very difficult: most cannot change gender, or remain shifted for very long. Coin apparently can do both: he – or she, no one knows – is responsible for the murder of the former Duke of Argundy, which allowed the current Duke to gain the Argundy throne. Coin is a legend among the magi.’

Cera scowled, thinking furiously. ‘And Fernando’s last vision was of a man in Solinde’s nightdress? Did he discover her in another form – is that why Fernando was killed?’

‘It fits what we know. It’s hard to maintain a shape-change when experiencing heightened pain or pleasure, so maybe Coin inadvertently betrayed themselves to Fernando, and then panicked and killed him to cover their tracks. We know that Gurvon protected Solinde after Fernando’s death. Perhaps that was because it was really Coin?’

Cera hugged herself, her face troubled. ‘And then you “rescued” Solinde …’

‘Exactly. We found someone we thought was Solinde the night we raided Brochena. The body was unconscious – but a skilled shifter can maintain a form while asleep. I was amazed she’d survived the tower falling, but a well-shielded and lucky mage could do that. From then on Coin is in our hands and in danger of being unmasked, so she acted antagonistically to get sent away. I used a Chain-rune, which locked Coin into Solinde’s form, and suddenly she is helpless in the Krak di Condotiori, a place not even Gurvon could break them out of—’

‘And now we’re bringing Coin back here.’

‘If it is Coin, yes. This is only supposition, Cera, but if it is Coin,
Gurvon will almost certainly try and free her.’ Elena frowned, thinking hard. ‘Perhaps we can use this to our advantage.’

‘How?’

‘We could use Coin as bait, to lure Gurvon out. If Solinde is truly Coin, I know ways of detection that no shapeshifter can stand up to. I will unmask her.’

‘What about Gyle and his agents?’

‘Gurvon will learn Solinde is here: count on it. For now I hope he remains ignorant, or else Lorenzo is in great danger.’ She chewed his lip anxiously. ‘Once she’s here, we’ll have maybe half a day before Gurvon finds out. If Solinde really is Coin, he will be forced to act.’

Cera looked increasingly sick, but she lifted her head. ‘Then what must we do – surround Solinde with an army?’

‘No – they’d just get in my way. A trained group of magi can kill by the hundreds. They’d all die, or be turned against us. I’d be more secure alone: in gnosis, a well-prepared defence can often overmatch the attack. If I can break Coin, then hold out against Gurvon until there is opportunity to display the shapeshifter at court, we can bring the whole nation in behind the shihad, and at that point, Gurvon may as well go home. We will have won.’

Cera looked at her, measuring. ‘You can do this?’

Elena smiled grimly. ‘I’ll have to leave the blood-rooms and prepare for her arrival. I’ll seal off the Jade Tower from the rest of the keep and prepare wards for holding Coin. My practise-room is ideal – the only entrance is from below, and I can ward the door to the lower room. If you and Timi stay there and the doors are warded, then no one can enter without your permission or mine.’

‘You, Solinde, Timi and me, alone,’ Cera repeated dully, her eyes unfocused.

‘Exactly! I can’t afford to leave you alone away from me while I’m doing the questioning in case Gurvon tries to seize you as leverage.’ Elena tried to sound reassuring. ‘I’ll station Lorenzo with you if you like.’

‘You and Lorenzo.’ Cera smiled wanly. ‘My protectors.’

*

The inner gates thudded open and four huge carthorses towed a prison-wagon into the courtyard. It was Sabbadai, 6 Junesse, and Solinde was back.
If it really is Solinde
.

‘Donna Elena!’ Lorenzo trotted his horse into the courtyard and her heart leapt, but his smile in return seemed forced. He looked tense and ill-at-ease as he swung down from the saddle. She longed to go to him, but this was too public; the members of the Regency Council were all here, perched about the square, watching with rapt eyes.

Lorenzo bowed formally. ‘What are the arrangements?’ he asked, his voice clipped with tension.

‘Bring her to Jade Tower,” Elena told him. She had been preparing it for holding Solinde – or a potent shapeshifter – all week. ‘Take her to the threshold only – I have set wards on the door.’

Lorenzo bowed again in acknowledgment and turned as the prisoner’s wagon rumbled up to the steps. Elena studied the waiting councillors, wondering if any of them owed secret allegiance to Gurvon. Pita Rosco was joking with Cera. Comte Inveglio stood with Godspeaker Acmed – that was an odd pairing. Don Francesco Perdonello was present, though she couldn’t remember inviting him. There was curiosity and hostility directed at the wagon: Solinde had betrayed them all.

The wagon stopped and guards unlocked the doors and pulled out a thin girl in a plain white shift. Her long golden hair was flat and greasy. Solinde’s manacles glimmered with power in Elena’s gnosis-sight, as did the Chain-rune coiled about her, the one she’d placed upon the princessa herself. Elena stepped forward and the girl’s eyes fell on her. They were bruised, as if she had been weeping constantly, and her glare was sullen.

‘Welcome back to Brochena, Princessa,’ Elena said levelly.

Solinde said nothing, wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Cera joined them, looking at her sister distantly. ‘Welcome back, sister,’ she said quietly. She waited. ‘Will you not answer me?’

Solinde stared at her feet, offering no contact or reply.

Cera sighed and turned to Elena. ‘You may take her.’

Elena stepped before Solinde and put a hand under her chin and raised it to her eyes. She stared through those eyes, letting the gnosis quest into the princessa’s mind.
Fear
…
humiliation
…
anguish
…
sorrow
… That was as far as she could go, here. Such surface thoughts might be genuine, or just a mask woven by a trained mind. She would have to break through to establish who or what she faced.

Cera turned and faced the gathering of counsellors. ‘Gentlemen, Elena will be dealing with this matter in Jade Tower. No one will be permitted to visit until I have her assurances.’ She held up her hand to forestall questions. ‘Elena says there is danger. This is her field of expertise. We defer to her.’

Elena grasped Solinde’s shoulder. As she started to march her towards the tower she heard footsteps clatter towards her and she looked over her shoulder. ‘No, Lorenzo. I must see to this.’

‘What is happening?’ He glanced up at the darkened tower. ‘Why your tower?’ His voice sounded unused, as if he’d been silent all the way from the Krak. He moved stiffly, without his normal grace. It must have been a long, hard ride back. ‘Will I see you tonight?’

Elena shook her head regretfully. ‘Sorry, Lorenzo. Tomorrow,’ and she strode on, pulling Solinde along in her wake. She turned to look at him before she shut the door, but she couldn’t read his expression. Inside the tower, she locked the door and then activated her wards. Solinde watched, her eyes narrowed. As the web of light faded from normal vision, she turned back to the girl and asked calmly, ‘So, Princessa, do I have to carry you up the stairs?’

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Solinde demanded.

The voice is right, but the words are wrong. Solinde never spoke like that
. ‘Upstairs, Solinde. Come!’

On the first-floor landing Elena glanced into the small ante-room. The door to the royal chambers was bolted and already warded, and Cera held the only key, which Elena had attuned to the wardings. Cera and Timi would spend the night in this room, safely within Elena’s control.

The top room had been cleaned and Bastido had been pushed next to the wall, where it sat brooding sullenly like a rejected pet.
In the middle of the room was a smoking brazier. A couple of pokers had been left jammed into the coals and the tips were glowing red. There was a pallet bed, but Elena ignored it and led Solinde to the wall. She left the girl’s manacles on – they had Faid’s bindings on them – and attached them to a chain. Her own Chain-rune still confined her too.

‘What are you doing?’ the girl asked, her voice quavering as she tugged at her manacles. She began to cry.

‘This tower room has been sound-dampened so no one outside can hear you,’ Elena said in a deliberately bored voice.

Solinde stopped sobbing as quickly as she had begun.

Elena met her eyes. ‘If you are truly Solinde, then I am sorry for putting you through this, but I cannot take any chances with Cera and Timori’s lives.’ She sighed, this time genuinely weary. ‘I have questioned prisoners before. I don’t enjoy inflicting pain, but I’ll do it if I must.’

‘I am Solinde!’ The girl looked genuinely frightened, but that proved nothing.

‘Perhaps. I will soon find out.’ She got out a coin from a pocket and flipped it in front of the girl’s face and watched as Solinde’s eyes narrowed. Elena smiled mildly, pocketed the coin again and then reached out to touch the girl’s forehead. She sent gnosis-energy pulsing through her fingertips and slowly removed her Chain-rune. She watched the girl’s reactions carefully, noting the faint relaxing of posture, the tentative flexing of hands, the inwards gaze of the eyes.

Ah – surely I am right?

‘So, Princessa.’ She half-turned and gestured towards the brazier and flames leapt in response. Elena planted her hands against the wall, either side of Solinde’s head, and stared into the girl’s eyes. ‘This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to take one of those hot pokers you can see there and I’m going to press it to your belly. Your flesh will sear and cook, causing you agony unlike anything you have ever felt. I will use the gnosis to prevent your passing out, so that you feel everything. The pain will trigger responses you cannot
control: you will void your bowels and bladder. You will scream like a host of demons. You will lose yourself entirely, and at that moment, I will know if you are truly who you appear to be.’