Unguilded (2 page)

Her mother’s thin smile chilled Kara. Her father would be stripped of his high position in the guild and given another, lower role. Kara’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

“You find this amusing?” her mother asked.

“Noula will finally be able to marry Papa,” she said, her eyes on the floor and her expression blank.

“I doubt he’ll have her. Banio used marriage once to gain status—I expect he will try that again. Noula will be at Mage Guild’s mercy just as we all are.”

Numb, Kara let herself be steered toward the door. She had no pity for Noula. Overly proud of being the not-quite wife of the Villa Mage Guild Secundus, she would find few friends among those who were to decide her fate.

“You cannot go out the front door,” Arabella said. “I saw the little bridge that connects the second floor to your neighbour’s house—you will leave that way.”

Kara stumbled on the top step. “What will I do?” She clutched her pack against her chest as if to slow her racing heartbeat. She knew it was better than staying, but she was afraid all the same.

“You will teach,” Arabella said calmly. “Mage Guild has educated you far beyond most people. You will find a place.”

Kara could only stare at her, at the woman who had given birth to her but had not raised her. And who now was telling her to leave the only home she’d ever known. But she was right. Kara didn’t have a place—at least not one that she wanted. Not in the guild, not in Villa Larona, not even, so it seemed, in Tregella. Did she belong anywhere? She did, she had to believe that, but it was up to her to find out where.

“You will be fine,” Arabella said. “Here.” She slipped her silver bracelet off a delicate wrist, unpinned the matching brooch from her scarf, and shoved them into Kara’s hands. “Take these. Now go.”

Kara took a steadying breath and stuffed the jewelry into the bottom of her pack. With her bag slung over one shoulder, she grabbed her shawl from the peg by the door and wrapped it loosely around herself. She descended the stairs, pausing at the bottom to look up at her mother.

A purple mist wafted around Arabella and Kara reached a hand toward it. It circled her mother gently, in contrast to the grey-black cloud that had pulsated threateningly around Mage Guild Secundus Valendi.

It took all of her will but she turned and ducked out into the hallway. Nothing about her first—and likely only—meeting with her mother had been what she’d anticipated. She hadn’t expected love, exactly, but perhaps a measure of regret for the babe she’d been forced to leave behind. Instead, all she’d felt from the woman who’d given birth to her was indifference.

The hallway was dark. She and her mother had sat through one of Villa Larona’s spectacular sunsets, and neither of them had noticed. That was the reason they’d given for their trip to Kara’s room in the first place—so Arabella could see the sun paint the sky before it dipped behind the mountain. Now that it was dusk the others would be expecting them downstairs.

In the small alcove Kara eased open the window and stepped out onto the narrow whitewashed bridge that spanned the cobbled street.

It had been years since she’d used this bridge—as a child she’d spent hours on it, lying flat and peering over the edge to spy on villagers below. That was before Noula had come to live with them, before she’d been forbidden to spend time with their neighbour, Donna Jonella. The kindly widow had been ancient even then and, unlike her own family, she’d always made Kara feel wanted.

Kara reached up to the handle and gently lifted the latch of the small door that led into Donna Jonella’s house. She cocked her head to listen. There was no sound from within the house so she shouldered aside the door and crawled inside.

The upstairs hallway was dark and dusty as though it had not been used for a long time, and Kara quickly made her way to the stairs. She crept down, her feet silent on the smooth tiles. At the bottom she paused to orient herself.

There. A sliver of light outlined the kitchen window.

A cough came from the main room, and Kara froze. Donna Jonella was sleeping downstairs. Careful not to stumble into furniture, Kara glided a foot forward. One more gliding step and she was in the kitchen with its stale odours of cooked onions and garlic.

A small knife glinted on the counter, and she grabbed it and put it in her pack. She felt a twinge of guilt at stealing from a woman who had always been kind to her, but she forced it aside. Donna Jonella likely had other knives, but this one could be the difference between Kara living or dying.

She eased the door latch up out of its bracket and stepped outside into the night.

In the dim moonlight the neglect of the curved, white adobe wall that sheltered her from the street was evident. Tufts of grasses sprouted from the white-washed walls, and large sections had crumbled, leaving clumps of dried clay scattered on the ground.

She reached out and dislodged a small piece of adobe. The wall was in such poor repair that she should be able to climb it. She glanced at the path that led to the street out front. It would be better if she didn’t have to pass her father’s house. She might be missed by now, and someone could be looking out the window.

Kara stuffed her shawl into her pack and placed one shoe on the crumbling wall, shifting her foot from side to side until she found a solid foothold. She reached up, grabbed a tuft of grass, and tugged hard. It held. She pulled herself up and peered over the top of the wall into another small, much better kept, garden. It was empty so she swung first one leg over, then the other. Fingers digging into the crumbling adobe, she lowered herself as far as she could before she let go. She landed in a heap at the bottom, and quickly untangled her skirt, and got to her feet. No faces peered out the curtained window, and no raised voices broke the silence as she ran from the garden to the street.

ARABELLA SAT IN
the small room until she could no longer hear any sounds from the second floor. The girl—even to herself she refused to call her daughter—should be well away. She smoothed a hand along her skirt. She would have to manage Valerio Valendi now. She smiled. They had grown close during the journey to this Gyda-forsaken villa—just as she’d planned. Her smile faltered. She hadn’t expected the Mage Guild Secundus to be so obviously interested in the girl.

She’d told the truth—Mage Guild
was
intrigued with her bloodline. There was no history of such power in Villa Larona or in either of her parents’ families. That was why, even though she found her magic early, she was an adult before the Guild realized just how strong her talent was. And then only because
she
made the bargain with Banio Fonti that let her leave the villa and travel to Rillidi.

“Donna Fonti?” a woman’s voice called up from the second floor. “Kara? Are you there? The Mage Secundus is asking for you.”

Banio Fonti’s woman. She’d let her call again, call for the woman who had the title she longed for.

“Donna Fonti?”

“Did the girl not return?” Arabella asked. “She left the room a few moments ago. I wanted to watch the sunset in peace.”

“She did not return to the main room,” was the worried reply. “I’ll see if she’s in one of the rooms on this floor.”

Arabella stood and carefully smoothed her skirts before stepping over to the stairs. She heard doors open and close on the floor below her and then a muffled sob as the woman of the house realized that she had to relay bad news to the Mage Guild Secundus. Kara Fonti was gone.

Arabella descended to the main floor, wrapping her scarf around her shoulders. She shouldn’t have given the girl her jewelry, she realized. That had been a mistake. Now she had to make sure the girl had time to get far enough away that she—
her body
—was never found.

“Arabella.”

“Secundus.” Arabella inclined her head. “Have you made a decision about the girl?”

It hadn’t mattered to her who the Mage Secundus decided to breed the girl to. Until she saw the way he’d looked at Kara Fonti. She could not let him have her.

When she’d arrived on Mage Guild Island all those years ago, others her age had been Journeymen or full Mages. But she’d had a formidable talent as well as beauty and charm, which she’d used to secure the best mentors she could. She’d never had a mentor as powerful and connected as Valerio Valendi, though, so she’d told the girl to flee. She would not allow a talentless girl to interfere with her plans.

“It seems she has disappeared,” Valerio Valendi said. “What did the two of you discuss?”

“Our shared disappointment,” Arabella said. “And the consequences—for both of us.”

“Ah yes, you will need to find another Mage for the villa. Unless you plan to return?”

“I already have someone in mind,” she replied. Since the child she left behind had no magic, Guild Law demanded she find a replacement. “A minor talent, but enough to make him Villa Secundus.”

“I see.” Valerio’s voice held amusement. “A position that is currently filled by your husband.”

“Yes.” She lifted her chin and met his steady gaze.

“And the girl, you do not know where she went?”

“No.” Arabella dropped her eyes. “She said she was going downstairs. I assumed to rejoin all of you.”

“Which she did not do,” Valerio said. “I have searched the house magically, and she is not here. Come and sit. We must discuss our options.”

Arabella followed the Secundus into the small living room. He had taken her at her word—or at least he hadn’t challenged her. He’d even been amused.

Arabella’s current position within the guild was already precarious. Now that it was certain Kara Fonti had no talent, she needed both a political alliance and to bear a child with potential. Valerio Valendi was a powerful Mage—ambitious and ruthless—which made him very dangerous. But he was a man. And, she thought, not immune to her charms. A child of theirs
must
inherit power. But if it didn’t she would still have years before it was known, years in which—with Valerio’s support—she could establish and strengthen her position within Mage Guild.

KARA MADE HER
way down through the villa. Down steep rock stairs hacked out of the mountain, worn smooth by torrential rains and decades of use. Down winding, narrow alleys where she hugged walls and hid in shadows. Down past the high square where the weekly market was held and Merchants sold goods that had been dragged uphill by stocky burros, cousins to the animals that roamed free on the mountain. Down through the lower villa, where the wooden doors were set two steps above the cobbled lane to safeguard against flooding. And finally, down to the lower square that was enclosed by warehouses on two sides and stables on a third.

The cobbles ended. The dirt road that stretched out into the valley had been hardened by animals and wagons over long years of use. This road would take Kara out of the villa she’d spent her whole life in, out of the only life she’d known. As her mother suggested, she would leave the country. But she’d have to get to Rillidi, the port city, in order to do that.

Firelight lit the handful of people still in the square—probably Merchant Guild delivering goods for trade. They huddled in chairs that ringed a small table, and hushed laughter drifted her way.

Kara glanced up at the shining white walls and dark roofs of Villa Larona. She clenched her hands, trying to slow her breathing and push away her apprehension about walking out of the villa and into the darkness of the valley.

She’d had no chance to think since leaving her father’s house. She needed to sit for a moment before she walked away from her life.

She slipped through the half-open door of a stable. The air carried the earthy odour of animals and something big moved nearby—large feet shuffling straw. There was a snort from a stall along the far wall, but no voices. Kara crept down the aisle, her shoes scuffing the dirt floor.

A large brown head swung out over a stall door and into her path, and Kara stopped, startled. Huge brown eyes stared at her, and then the horse snorted softly. Kara reached a hand out, but paused when she saw grey-black mist snaking along the horse’s neck. She stepped closer to get a better look, but the horse backed up into the stall.

“I’ll check the nags and be right back,” a voice said from just outside the stable. “The Mage Guild Secundus will have my balls if anything happened to his horses while I was playing cards.”

Kara held her breath and glanced around. She couldn’t be found, not in here. She eased the stall door latch up and crept inside. The horse, mist swirling along its flanks and neck, pawed at the straw. Kara tucked herself into a corner at the front of the pen, shrinking away from the animal.

Muffled footsteps came towards her as the stable hand walked down the row of stalls, muttering to himself. When he was even with the stall she was in, the horse snorted.

“What’s got you spooked, big man,” crooned the voice. “Though if I had that Mage on my back I might be a bit uneasy too.” He chuckled. “That other Mage though, I’d not mind to take a ride on her. She’s a fine one.”

Kara held her breath and tried to sink farther into the shadowed corner of the stall. Straw poked at her through her shawl, and her skin itched, but she ignored it, praying for the stable hand to stay on the other side of the door.