The Royal Wizard (7 page)

When the last of the carcasses fell, Nia lowered her arms and faced him, her eyes sparking with terrible light. “Your huntsmen did this,” she told him, furious red lights flashing around her. “They were all around, in every corner of the wood. Just tossed on the ground for any beast to feed on and die.” She gritted her teeth as tears slid down her cheeks. “The poison tore through their bodies and it took days.”

Rage simmered in his veins. He saw from Nia’s reaction that she could see it in his eyes. “Show me,” he said tightly.

Nia weaved her hand through the air between them, drawing on the red light and pulling it in. Mist following her movements until it formed a circle. She said a word of command to make it glow like a torch and in its depths images took shape. Four huntsmen argued in the woods. Saeran knew them. They’d brought in a great boar only yesterday, boasting of the hunt’s thrill. Telling him he’d have loved it. In the vision their words were drowned in silence, but their meaning was clear. They had just evaded a pack of wolves. The forest was full of them; they could not step foot past the creek without hearing their howls. But hunting them was forbidden unless they attacked livestock, and that had not happened in too many years to count. For the safety of Frastmir and its inhabitants, they proclaimed loftily, something had to be done.

If there were fewer wolves, they mused, there would be more game for them to hunt, more mouths to be fed with such bounty. In truth, they thought only of the people. But disobeying the order to spare the beasts was punishable by a lashing and imprisonment. Two of them had wives and children to feed, one was courting a shopkeeper’s daughter, and the last was quite sought after by the tavern wenches. None of them could chance being caught.

They looked from one to the other, each weighing his comrades and all alighting on the same idea at once.

All it took was a wild boar or two, a vial of poison, and a sad shake of the head when the palace guards asked after the day’s trophies. No one had to know.

With a swirl of black smoke, the vision changed and Saeran found himself in the castle, looking at the huntsmen’s drunken faces. Their beards were greasy with food and their hands filled with meat. One took a bite from a succulent pig’s leg and threw the rest to the dogs. They fought over it viciously, tearing into each other as much as the meat, and the huntsmen laughed, entertained by this. “Enough,” Saeran ground out, unable to watch anymore. “I’ve seen enough.”

The images faded back into mist and then disappeared. As they did, the carcasses all around him burst into flames. The smoke they emitted reeked of pain and death as the poison burned off. That was Nia’s doing. She was a distance off, staring into the dark forest, her back to him. The lights were gone, her magic darkened once again.

“They will pay for this,” he said, joining her on the other side of the pyre. She wouldn’t face him.

“There are still others out there,” she said weakly. “Many more, and all suffering the same.” Her hands were clenched at her sides and somehow he knew she’d felt the wolf’s pain. Just as she felt the pain of the others now.

“Can you help them?”

Nia shook her head and he could see it break her heart to say the words. “Not from this far away. They are too weak to come to me and it would take too long to find them.” She swayed on her feet and Saeran caught her, sitting down in the snow with her. “Nico would have known what to do,” she sobbed.

Saeran pulled her closer, but though she allowed the touch, she didn’t lean on him. “I swear to you I will see them hanged.”

When the fires died down, Nia stood, wiping her sleeve across her wet face. “We have to go back,” She said, pushing to her feet. “We’ll freeze out here.” She waited for him to stand and then turned in the direction they had to walk in.

“Wait,” Saeran said. He went to a raspberry bush and ducked under it, pulling out a large piece of wood. “I saw this earlier,” he told her, handing it to her. It was curiously even from one end to a large, twisted knot at the other. “You’ll need it. Even Nico had one.”

Nia curled her fingers around the wood and tested its balance. It fit into her hand. Saeran couldn’t see any obvious weaknesses; it would be sturdy enough to lean her weight on and with some work, a fine staff, indeed. “Thank you, Highness,” she said, managing a small smile.

They returned to the castle in silence, and said not a word to anyone about what they had seen, but Saeran knew something needed to be done. And when he met her gaze in front of the great hall, a moment before going his own way and leaving her to hers, seeing the pain still there, he knew he would be the one to do it.

CHAPTER 6

Nia would not leave her chambers again until the day of the coronation. It was not by choice. The spell she’d worked that night drained her so completely that when she returned to the castle, the staff proved to be invaluable. It would take some time for her to recover both physically and magically.

What happened outside her study doors, however, did not escape her. Nia could feel the walls shiver with whispers. Rumors of things she would not have believed—had she not expected them.

The walls gossiped to her of the prince. How he’d marched through the castle courtyard, bearing a heavy beast in his arms, a small group of guards following close behind. How he’d kicked down the door on the huntsmen’s cottage, tossed the furry heap at their feet and demanded, “Is this your work?”

How the huntsmen had stared in fright at the prince’s countenance, unsure of which answer would bring his wrath down upon their heads. Ah, but the prince needed no answer, for he knew it already.

The walls described how he made the four men tie each other’s hands and lead each other outside the castle. And then it was the earth itself who whispered to her of Saeran’s angry words. “Were I to be fair, I would give you that selfsame poison to drink and watch you writhe in pain. And you would drink it again, for each animal that died from it, shaking in agony.”

The huntsmen, the earth told her, shuddered and fell to their knees begging for mercy, but the prince had none to spare them, for he knew they’d had none for the beasts.

And so, a great oak groaned, the four huntsmen were hanged from his branches, dancing in the wind.

Such was the prince’s justice.

But then the breeze slipped through a crack into her study, hissing a secret in her ears. For as the prince had stood before the men preparing to be hung, as he’d watched them weep and pray, he’d whispered it to the winds: “For Nia.”

“Enough,” Nia told the walls, the earth, and the breeze. “No more rumors. No more death or secrets.” And she closed her eyes, willing herself not to dream when sleep claimed her.

Dreams found her anyway, childish memories grown into a nightmare to haunt her day and night. She sat in her tree, telling it all her woes. Eirwen was being cruel again. She’d heard a merchant caravan passing not far from their cottage and Nia wanted so desperately to see them, but Eirwen refused to let her. It was too dangerous, she said. They had no business with those people, she said.

But she could hide, Nia argued. They wouldn’t even know she was there!

Eirwen would hear none of it. One day Nia would understand. Eirwen had promised she would keep Nia safe.

In her anger, Nia screamed at the old woman, ugly words she’d never meant to say and, ashamed of herself, she ran here. But then it got dark, too dangerous to walk through the forest on her own. Instead, Nia fell asleep in that tree and dreamed of singing. She sang to a river and its waters rose up to her, tendrils of it caressing her cheek like a mother’s touch. Then more of it rose, reaching to her, cradling her, answering her voice with a melody of its own. A song of home to drown out Eirwen’s cry…

Nia started awake, then again when she saw Saeran right next to her.

She sat up on her pallet. “Your Highness!”

“Wizard,” he replied. “Why do you sleep under the castle when there are dozens of much nicer places you could rest your head?” He looked around the dark room. He wouldn’t see more than shadow, the large table and the overflowing bookshelves behind the archway. No point wasting candlelight when all she did was sleep.

Nia struggled off the pallet, her legs unsteady. She was fully dressed but felt raw and exposed with Saeran watching her. No one but she and Nico ever stepped foot in the underground study. “What are you doing here?”

Saeran caught her elbows to steady her as he led her to sit at the table. He was smiling, and she couldn’t fathom what might have amused him. “Calm yourself,” he said, “I am the prince, remember? I can go wherever I please.”

Nia sparked the torches with a thought and a small burst of magic. They flared to life, filling the chamber with light until she could see him clearly. He looked worn, tired. His clothes were disheveled as if he’d slept in them, and though he smiled, it was a weary smile.

“What princely business brings you to my private study?” she asked, glancing at the pitcher of water some distance away. She was so thirsty her lips stuck together, but the pitcher was too far. If she tried to call to it with her magic still so weak, it would fall and shatter halfway to the table.

“At first,” the prince said, following her gaze, “I looked for you in Nico’s old chambers.” He left her to retrieve the pitcher and poured her a goblet of water. “But it looked as if no one had stepped foot in it in months. Then…” He handed her the goblet and resumed his seat. “I inquired among the maids where the wizard was housed, and they pointed me to another chamber, across from Nico’s. But that one looked the same, so I asked, very politely, where my royal wizard might be found, and they pointed to the ground.”

“Hmm.” Nia drank from the goblet, feeling her strength return a little more with each sip. 

Seeing she would not speak, Saeran grinned. “And so I found my way here to give you something and found you sleeping. I knocked, mind you. And called your name. Several times. You did not move at all, so I came closer to find you were barely breathing. Naturally, I became worried. But you looked so peaceful I was loath to wake you. Instead I decided to wait for you to awaken on your own.”

Nia blushed. It was a wizard’s sleep she’d slept, something a body forced on the mind when one’s strength was depleted. For a wizard to drain herself of magic completely meant death. To restore herself, Nia needed rest and time. She would not have awakened, even if he’d tried to rouse her. “And how long have you waited?” she asked, dreading his answer.

Saeran shrugged. “Not long. Half a day, perhaps.”

Nia choked. “Half a day?”

The prince’s good humor faded. His eyes grew serious and his lips compressed into a tight line. “I want you to teach me,” he said. “Every spell an incantation you know, I need to learn. What happened with the huntsmen can never happen again. They could have poisoned the streams and killed us all.”

She stared at him agog. “You want me to teach you magic?”

Saeran nodded.

“I…I’m not sure I can.” Rather, she wasn’t sure it was wise to try. True, no one knew what they were capable of until they attempted it. Magic could be found in the oddest places and many went through their entire lives changing the world in subtle ways without being aware of it. But there were also those hungry for power which would forever be denied to them. What if Saeran didn’t have any magic in him, no matter how much he wanted it? What if he blamed her?

“You can try,” he said.

He was in earnest! Nia shifted in her seat, wincing at the ache in her back. Could she defy a royal order if he gave it? “You mentioned you’ve brought me something,” she said, stalling for time. “It wouldn’t by any chance happen to be food, would it?”

Saeran grinned. “Wait here. I will call for a tray.”

Nia sighed when he left the study, looking around for guidance. “Nico,” she whispered, “what have you gotten me into?” She fancied she could almost hear him laugh at her in gentle mockery.

The prince returned, placing a stack of parchment on the table. “We begin now.”

“Wait, I have not said yes.”

“I told the runner to bring two trays. I am starving. We can eat here, can we not?” he asked, reaching for the pitcher again to pour himself some water.

“Yes, but I—”

“Yes is spoken. You may begin your instruction.” He sat down facing her like an eager school boy, waiting for her to speak.

Nia glared at him. “Very well. We begin.”

“Excellent!” Saeran nodded. “What do I do first?”

“You close your mouth and listen.”

“What—”

“Shh!”

He quieted.

“Listen until you hear everything. Every movement of the air as you breathe, every beat of your heart, the hum of the candle flame, the chatter of mice…everything.”

Saeran shifted to find a more comfortable position and strained his ears to listen. “I hear nothing.”

“You are not listening hard enough. Concentrate. It helps if you close your eyes.” She closed her own to demonstrate. “Put everything from your mind but the sounds, and listen not only with your ears, but with your heart.”

Saeran breathed in deeply and held his breath, counting heartbeats. He could hear them getting louder, but only because they were thrumming in his head now. Expelling the air from his lungs in an explosive sigh, Saeran shook himself and tried again. He drummed his fingers on the table—that he could hear. He tapped his foot. Also a sound his keen ears were able to pick up. Besides that, he heard nothing. “This is boring. When can I work a spell?”

“When you learn to hear what is around you,” she said without opening her yes. “A thing will tell you how it wants to be changed. It will know your intent and help you achieve it. A pitcher will know when you want it to float next to the table instead of sitting on it. It will do as you command. But a flower will not obey a command to grow if it knows your only intent is to pluck it.”

There was wisdom in her words. She sat unmoving, composed, but still at ease. Saeran’s backside was starting to ache from sitting on the hard chair, yet Nia didn’t show any discomfort at all. Her control over herself was astounding.