The Fire Mages (17 page)

Very soon, I would have to decide what I would do, but one sun after another drifted away. I was running out of time.

The longest night of the year was a big celebration everywhere in Bennamore. In Durmaston, we called it Winterseve, and lit a big bonfire in the centre of the village. Along the river it was Spirit Night or Langmeet or the renewal Feast, and folk dressed up and danced through the streets. In Kingswell it was the Festival of Lights, and there were coloured lanterns outside every house. And in every region there was an excess of food and drink and all the other excesses that inevitably follow.

Kingswell had another reason to celebrate this year, for both the Drashon’s heirs were returning after many months away on diplomatic missions, and there was to be a huge ball for the occasion, as well as the usual array of festivities. This necessitated another batch of new clothes for Drei and me, even more exquisite than the last. I was getting used to the sumptuous fabrics, but I never tired of the feel of silk next to my skin. Drei bought me jewelry as well, and a dress sword for himself, and altogether we looked the epitome of courtly style.

There was a formal reception for the two heirs, at which we and all the other recent arrivals were presented. The Drashonor was a sensible looking man of around forty, in looks rather like his father, and very solicitous of the new wife he’d acquired at some primitive mountain kingdom. The Bai-Drashonor was under thirty, attractive rather than a great beauty. Both heirs had been fully confirmed by the nobles, with no conditionals, which was unusual when their father was still fit and well.

Drei was rather splendid at these functions. Unlike me, he always remembered who everyone was and said all the right things. He could be very charming when he set his mind to it. He never lied, but he managed to be flattering and honest at the same time, a rare combination, judging by the blue lights flaring all round us. He towed me round with him, my arm draped over his, so that he could rest his hand on mine whenever he needed to be sure of anyone’s truthfulness. I said little, bowing when necessary and trying not to look bored. In the early suns of such events, I had gone about with a smile plastered to my face, but Drei said, “Don’t do that, it makes you look like a servant or an impoverished cousin, desperate to please.”

At one dull function, a smartly liveried minion came over to me.

“You are the Gracious Lady Kyra?” I stared at him. “The contract scribe from Ardamurkan?” I nodded speechlessly. “The Most Powerful Lady Yannassia requests a few moments of your time. If you would be so kind.”

For an instant my mind was blank. Yannassia? Then, dimly, I recognised the honorific – a Most Powerful Lady could only be the Drashon’s family.

Drei got there before me. “The Bai-Drashonor wishes to see you – how very interesting!” His eyes were alight with speculation.

We followed the servant across the room, one of the larger of the Drashon’s formal suite, to an alcove made semi-private by some tubs of plants and a line of sturdy guards whose swords were considerably more realistic looking than Drei’s. We were ushered past and into the lady’s presence. The Drashon’s second heir sat regally on a large gilded chair, with a table laden with dishes of sweetmeats at her side. Two or three female attendants hovered nearby, no doubt ready to spring into action if their mistress so much as sneezed.

“Ah, Lady Scribe Kyra! Do come and sit down.” She pointed to a smaller chair beside her, and I abandoned my half-completed bow and scurried over to it. “And this must be your drusse-holder. What is his name?”

“Drei,” I said hoarsely, still shocked to find myself in her presence. Then, more firmly, “Axandrei abre Teynia fen Wendrill.”

“The Bai-Kellon. Of course.” Yannassia looked him up and down appraisingly, while he made another low bow. “Handsome fellow, indeed. But we do not need him here just now. Will you be so good as to send him away?”

I couldn’t speak a word – the very idea of me telling Drei what to do! But he got the point, and with another bow and a little smile to me, he withdrew.

“There! Now we can be comfortable. For my business is with you, Lady Kyra, and not your drusse-holder.”

“With me?” I croaked. My eyes were bulging with astonishment.

“Yes, with you. Why so surprised? Your reputation precedes you. Will you try one of these? They are very sweet, quite delicious.” She held out a plate of tiny confections, different shapes and sizes. “I really cannot resist them. Take two – there are different flavours.”

I took one and nibbled at it, but when I bit into it, it crumbled and a strongly flavoured liquid ran down my chin.

“I should have warned you – they are better eaten whole. Then the juice is a delightful surprise.” A flick of one finger brought a minion running with a cloth to make me respectable again. Only a green spot on my azai betrayed my mistake. But I had to agree that the tiny cakes – I still don’t know the proper name for them – were wonderful. I had two more, each different, and was rather sorry when she set the plate back on the table.

“Now, to business, Lady Kyra. My father told me about that dreadful affair at Ardamurkan when you stood accused of illegal use of magic, and that he was obliged to find you guilty even though he was not at all sure of it. He did the best he could for you, but nevertheless you lost a great deal that sun. Your career was destroyed.” She paused and looked at me, but I was incapable of speech. “He told me also of the principled stand you took, and how much he admired what you did.”

I was too astonished to do more than goggle at her. The Drashon admired me! But then anger crept up on me. “If he admired me so much, he could have done what was right,” I said sharply.

Yannassia smiled a little. “Ah well, it was not so simple, as I am sure you are aware. There were other considerations.” She meant my sister, of course, and the Kellon. Yes, naturally they must be protected at all costs, while I was left out for the wolves.

“And now, here you are!” she said. “You have become a drusse, and you are seeing a little of the world. But you still want a career, I presume? You want to earn your keep eventually?”

“Of course.”

“Then we can perhaps help each other, Lady Kyra, for I am in need of a personal scribe...”

“I’m not qualified for that!”

“Oh, I know, you are a contract scribe without a spellpage licence, but I have no need for an actual personal scribe. I have two law scribes of my own, and I can call on the mages when necessary. What I have a need for is scribes who are in my personal employment – to scribe mundane messages, to copy documents. Now I know this sounds dull…” She held a hand up, seeing the disgust written on my face. “Parts of it
are
dull, I grant you that, but my scribes are also my advisors and confidantes. They see all my secret correspondence, all the diplomatic papers. They find information for me, so that I am always aware of what is going on, even matters not generally known. They accompany me on my travels, too. But they are all from the north. I did have one from the river, but she left. So you see, you would be able to tell me all about your own region, and just think how helpful that would be to me. Do you see?”

I did. Part of me saw the possibilities in such a position – the status, the money, the travel, being part of the elite ruling Bennamore. Wasn’t that what I had always wanted? And now here it was, offered to me without any effort on my part. And yet I was suspicious of her, somehow. It was a vague, formless suspicion, but nevertheless it was there. I had seen no blue flashes around her head, so she hadn’t lied to me, yet I felt some resistance. Why would she do such a thing? Was it just guilt? I realised I could find out.

“You just feel sorry for me,” I blurted out. I’d never learned Drei’s subtlety. “The Drashon feels guilty about what he did to me, and this is a sop to make him feel better.” It was very blunt, bordering on rudeness, and I held my breath.

Fortunately, she laughed. “There is an element of that, certainly. It would be compensation, in some small way, for what has been done to you. But truly I have heard good things about you, Lady Kyra, you are both honest and conscientious, qualities I need about me in my position. Discreet, too, for you were employed in the mirror room at Ardamurkan, were you not? This offer comes from me, not my father, because you meet my requirements.” No blue lights. She was genuine. “Will you think about it?”

I nodded, and after a little more general chat she sent me away.

Drei was thrilled, of course. “Such an opportunity! This will be so useful, Kyra, you will know everything that is going on here.”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” I said, but he only laughed. He was very confident in his own ability to charm the information out of me. “But why under the moon would she want me? I’m only a village girl, I can’t be much help to someone like her.”

“You are quiet, unobtrusive. You can sneak around like a little mouse and no one notices you. That makes you a perfect spy.”

“Spy?”

“Of course! Scribes are ten to the piece here, she wants more from you than that. What, did you think it was your talent with a quill, or your delightful personality?” He laughed rather more than I thought necessary, but I had to admit it made sense. It accounted for my unease.

~~~~~

Over the many suns of festivities, we found opportunities to slip away to the Imperial City, and at last we found the way to the pillar of energy. I loved walking round the city at that time of year, just on the cusp of winter. In the rest of Kingswell, snow drifted into corners and piled up in alleys, and although it never lasted long because of the hot water pipes under the streets, it still made for cold, wet feet. But here the snow never settled. It floated like smoke around our heads and then vanished, and somehow I never felt cold, even outside.

We walked up a street we had passed through several times already, plodding rather wearily, for the sun was already dropping below the roofs and we had been traipsing round all afternoon.

“Shall we give up?” Drei said. “I don’t think this is getting us anywhere. Maybe tomorrow we should climb the tower again, and see if we can work it out.”

“What’s through this archway?” It was another place we had looked at before, for I recognised the odd symbols carved into the lintel, but I couldn’t remember what was beyond it.

“Nothing. We’ve checked it twice already.”

I went through anyway, and he was right, it was just a small courtyard surrounded by the backs of houses, with a few windows high up and no doors. But on the far side was another archway, framed by a neatly trimmed climbing shrub.

“Was that always there?” If it was, I’d never noticed it. I crossed the courtyard and peered through the arch – another, bigger yard, with a fountain playing. “Look! This is new!”

“How is it we didn’t see this before?” Drei said suspiciously, following me.

“This hedge has been trimmed. See? These branches are newly cut. It must have hidden this entrance completely. Come on.”

I knew as soon as I passed through the arch that we had found the right place. The courtyard had windowless walls on three sides, but the fourth side was a two storey building with a wooden door. It looked like an ordinary house, no different from many others we’d seen, but behind it stood the squat tower with the marble pillar emerging from its roof. The power from it hit me full in the face, like the sun emerging from behind a cloud.

“There!” I said triumphantly.

Without waiting for Drei, I turned the ring to lift the latch on the door and went inside. A long, straight corridor led me right through the house, passing rooms on either side and a staircase. I scarcely glanced at them, pulling open the door at the far end and emerging at the foot of the tower. It stood apart, a ring of clear space all round it, although the surrounding buildings were almost as high, hiding it quite effectively from ground level.

As Drei arrived, I marched off again, circling the outside wall of the tower. It had four or five storeys, arranged in tiers with each floor a little smaller than the one below. There were big windows, but only one door, and no other way to it except the courtyard with the fountain. It was built of normal stone, rough and grey, without the golden glow of most of the city.

“Shall we go in?” I said, and immediately opened the door.

“Kyra, don’t you think—?” he began, but I was already inside.

On the ground floor there were several rooms with desks and tables. Some had teaching boards, and one a chart of dot script. At the back, a kitchen, some water buckets and a staircase. The next floor was much the same, only with smaller rooms. Up another floor, and we found what could only be a spellarium – the single desks, an open hearth with a fire laid but not lit, two or three crucibles, drawers of enhanced paper, quills and ink. It was much smaller than the Ardamurkan spellarium, but the purpose was unmistakeable.

“This is a scribes’ tower,” I said, awed.

“Is it?” Drei said. “It’s very small.”

“Ardamurkan’s has had extra bits added on, that’s all. I wonder if this is why there’s no scribery at Kingswell – they have this place. But obviously the mages don’t know about it, or they’d come here for renewal. But they don’t, they all go off to Yannitore or Callamorn. Well, onwards and upwards?”

The next floor was familiar to both of us.

“A mirror room!” Drei said. Most of the mirrors had gone, leaving only a series of bolt holes in the stone wall to mark their former position. There were just six left, three hung on the wall, and three flat for writing on. All the rest had been taken to the Keep, to the mirror room there.