Unguilded (28 page)

“Doubt it,” Vook replied. “The only fresh water is back at the estate, and no one’s gonna chance meeting the mad mage.”

“We did,” she said. “But you’re probably right.” She stared out across the water.

An island, Warrior Guild Island, according to Santos, was directly across from them. She could see the gray walls of their lookout towers. It was too far away to swim, thank Gyda, but any one of the sturdy boats that dotted the bay could make it across. She thought about the grim-faced Warriors she and Mika had seen on the road and hoped that the legend of the mad mage was well enough known to keep them away.

“Now what?” she asked Vook. She took a sip of water from her water skin. It was warm and stale, and the skin was almost empty.

“We follow the shoreline until we get back.” Vook shaded his eyes and looked behind them. “And hope we’ve lost anyone who might have followed. Come on.”

They stayed close to the shore as they made their way to the house. Lights and sounds drifted across the bay from Warrior Guild Island, but if there were any boats out in the night, Kara didn’t see them.

Finally they stepped onto the wide expanse of lawn. The dark shape of the manor house loomed on their left. She skirted the gardens and led them to the cabin. Before her hand even reached the handle, the door opened wide, and Sidra flew into her arms.

“We were so worried,” she said.

Kara entered the cabin and dumped her bundle on the floor. Vook did the same and then closed the door, shutting out the damp, cool night.

“What happened?” Pilo asked. She stood beside the table where a small lamp burned.

Heat emanated from the hearth, and Kara wearily dropped to the floor beside it. The warmth spread through her, and she sighed.

“We had some trouble with the Merchant,” Kara said. “Don’t worry—I got what we need to preserve the food.” She dragged her pack from her shoulder and handed it to Pilo, who put it on the table.

“Kara was recognized,” Vook said. He dropped into a chair at the table. “By a Seyoyan.”

“A Seyoyan?” Pilo sent her a sharp look. “How do you even know one?”

“I met him on the ferry just before I got separated from Mika,” Kara said. She stretched her hands out towards the fire and rubbed them together. “He and his friend helped us with the Merchant.” And Gyda only knew what they were doing at the market in Shanty Town. “We took the long way home in case they decided to follow us.”

“Why would they do that?” Pilo asked.

“Because the Seyoyan knows Kara can see magic,” Vook replied.

Kara stared straight ahead. “And that I can affect it.”

“How can he know that?”

“Because he saw it,” Kara said. She met Pilo’s eyes. “He sees magic, too, and he saw it react to me. We left before he could ask any questions.”

“You’re sure you weren’t followed?”

Pilo sounded worried, and Kara couldn’t blame her. If Chal found them, they wouldn’t be safe, even in the cabin. He’d be able to see it, just like she could.

A FEW MORE
wisps of gray faded away, and Kara dropped her hand to her lap. “The next spell layer is a big one,” she said to Santos. “We should leave it for another day. How do you feel?”

Santos rolled his shoulders and shook his head.

“Clear headed,” he said. “And better every time. You think the next one will send me into a mad episode?”

“Probably,” Kara replied.

They’d found that removing powerful spells caused Santos to descend into madness. The episodes lasted only a few hours though, and he hadn’t spontaneously gone mad in over a week.

“Another day then,” Santos agreed. “It will give me time to recover.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Kara watched the rain run down the window glass. They were in the sound wing of the house, and Santos had cleaned it using magic. The tile floor was polished, and the fabric on the sofa they shared was as bright and fresh as the day it was made.

“I’m not living in the cabin by myself,” she blurted out. She kept her eyes straight ahead, afraid to look at Santos.

“I know.”

She met Santos’ eyes, and he smiled.

“I thought as much the day you asked me for the cabin,” he said. “And since then I’ve become good friends with Mole.”

“Mole? He’s been here?” Kara asked.

Santos chuckled. “He hides in the ruined wing. He likes the dark.”

“Yes he does,” she agreed. She took a deep breath. “And there’s Vook, Pilo, and Sidra as well.”

“So Mole told me,” Santos said.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I trusted that you’d tell me when you were ready,” Santos said. “And you have.”

“I know it’s not part of the bargain, but I was hoping you could help us, now that you mostly have control.”

“Thanks to you,” Santos said.

MOLE SKIPPED AHEAD
of them as Kara led Sidra, Vook, and Pilo around the rear of the house to the kitchen. The sky had cleared, and Santos sat with his back against the wall, his eyes closed against the late day sun.

“Mad mage,” Mole called, and Santos opened his eyes and smiled.

“Mad mage, mad mage, mad mage.” Mole danced around Santos, who stood up and brushed his hands on his trousers.

“He has a name,” Kara scolded Mole. “It’s Santos.”

“I don’t mind,” Santos said. “Especially since mostly it’s no longer true.” He turned to the others. “And you are Sidra and Vook. Mole has told me much about you. And Pilo too.”

Kara held onto Pilo’s hand as Santos studied the girl’s ruined face. She hadn’t told Pilo anything—she hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up before Santos saw her and knew whether he could help her.

Santos reached out a hand, and Pilo flinched away from it.

“Shhh, I’m not going to hurt you,” Santos crooned. “But it’s been a long time since I did any major healing spells, and I need to understand what’s going on underneath that scar.”

“He wants to help, Pilo,” Kara said. “If he can.”

Pilo looked at her, and Kara saw a glimmer of hope behind the fear in the girl’s eyes. She trembled slightly as Santos ran a hand down her face and neck.

“I’ll need to reread my journal,” Santos said. “I wrote a part of a spell there, long ago.” He turned towards the kitchen door, Kara and the others forgotten.

“Can you help her?” Kara asked. “Heal her?”

“Yes,” Santos turned to them. “But I don’t want to simply apply a spell that hides the damage, a spell that you, Kara, or someone like you, could undo. I need a spell that helps Pilo heal herself. That will take me some time to put together.” He sent Pilo a sharp look. “The actual healing process will take weeks, maybe even months, and there might be some pain.”

“But my scars will get better?” Pilo asked.

“Oh yes,” Santos replied and smiled. “I’m quite a good Mage.” He paused. “I’ve been afraid of my magic for a very long time because it always seemed to do damage—to my house, to people, to the grounds. But to use magic to help someone? That is a welcome gift, Kara. Thank you.”

KARA AND PILO
trekked to the manor house. It was the third dull, grey day in a row, and Kara was happy to be out of the cabin. They’d spent the past few days storing food, and the little kitchen was stacked with bottles of preserves.

They searched the house, calling Santos’ name, finally finding him shut away in a back room that Kara had never been in before. The walls were lined with bookshelves that were bursting with books and labeled jars and pots. Santos sat at a large table, open books scattered around him and a small magical light floating in the air above.

“Santos,” Kara called again. “We’re here.”

Santos looked up distractedly. “What? Oh good. I know just where to start. Over here, Pilo.” He gestured to the girl, and she stepped nervously to his side.

Santos nudged the light until it was directly above Pilo, who looked up at it with a worried frown. The Mage either didn’t notice her concern or didn’t care. Instead he ran a hand down the scarred side of her face. He raised his hand again, and Kara saw a wisp of light green mage mist on his fingertips. Santos’ hand ran down Pilo’s scars again, this time leaving the mist in his wake. A few more passes, and half of Pilo’s face was obscured by mage mist.

“That’s the face,” Santos said. “Now for the rest. Take your shirt off.” Pilo hesitated, and he drummed his fingers on the table top. Mage mist puffed up at each touch of a finger.

“Come, child,” Santos said. “I’ve seen more than your young hide in my day. I need to expend this magic. I’ve been accumulating it for days, and it wants out now.”

“Go ahead, Pilo,” Kara said.

Pilo ducked her head and untied the laces on her shirt. Her eyes were closed when she dropped the shirt to the floor.

Kara sucked in a breath at the extent of damage on the younger girl’s torso, but Santos simply started trailing mage mist along the thick ropey scars. Soon half of Pilo’s body was covered in mist.

“That’s it,” Santos said. “I’ve done all I can for now.”

Pilo grabbed her shirt and pulled it back on.

“It will itch,” Santos continued. “And as I said before there might be some pain. Kara, let me know when the spell has faded. I’ll need to apply a second one.”

“I will,” Kara said.

“Thank you,” Pilo mumbled. Then the girl hurried out the door.

Kara turned to follow her, but stopped and turned back to Santos.

“You said you’d been accumulating magic,” Kara said. “Do you need to think about it in order to accumulate it?”

“I do now,” Santos said. He waved a hand at the light, and it retreated higher overhead. “At one time I didn’t have to, but when I went mad I tried not to accumulate power, hoping to keep my spells smaller and less destructive. But one of the first things a Mage is taught is how to conserve and contain their magic. Without a store of magic you cannot perform spells.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair. “Unless you take it from someone else, of course. But that requires very advanced skill that only a very few Mages can master.”

“Does the magic need to be given?” Kara asked.

“No,” Santos replied. “But to take without it being offered is such a grave offense that you will be expelled from Mage Guild and could even be put to death. Only the most foolish or desperate Mage would flaunt Guild Law so blatantly.”

Kara hovered while Santos rearranged some books on his table. She recognized the journal she had carried with her from the mountains, and it reminded her of Chal Honess.

“Santos, I might need you to keep watch for someone,” Kara said. She traced a finger along the edge of the table, running her hand over the journal. “With magic.” She lifted her eyes to his. “Vook and I went to the market at Shanty Town a few days ago, and I met someone there, a Seyoyan, and I think he knows what I can do.”

“A Seyoyan,” Santos repeated. “There were rumours that a few of them see magic.” He pulled a stool up and sat down, a thoughtful look on his face. “Even as Mage Guild Primus, I was never able to confirm it. Warrior Guild keeps the Seyoyans very close. I’ve heard that they work with Assassins, although Warrior Guild claims Assassins do not exist.”

“But they do, don’t they,” Kara said. “You said one killed your wife.”

“Yes.” Santos sent her a sharp look. “It would not be good for them to know about you.”

“It might be too late.” She shivered, suddenly chilled. “Do you think that a Seyoyan who can see magic would travel with an Assassin?” Chal’s mysterious friend had acted like he was a Guildsman, but he hadn’t been wearing a patch.

“Have you seen one?” Santos asked.

“Maybe,” Kara said. “His name is Reo.”

Santos shook his head. “It’s not a name I’m familiar with, but I’ve been mad for the better part of seven years, and Assassins have notoriously brief lives.”

“Can you guard against them?” Kara asked. She almost wished she hadn’t started this conversation. If she hadn’t, she’d be a little worried about Chal Honess and his friend Reo, but she wouldn’t have this knot of fear clutching at her gut.

“I can create some spells,” Santos agreed. “But not to maim or kill. Even the mad mage can’t kill an Assassin and not expect consequences.” He shook his head. “You’d be very valuable to an Assassin.”

“They don’t know where I am,” Kara said, thankful that she and Vook had come home the long way.

“They know you’re on Old Rillidi,” Santos replied. “I don’t want to alarm you, but Assassins are trained to uncover secrets, and they are very, very good at it. And your abilities would be so useful that I’m not sure one would
ever
stop looking for you.”

“They could earn guilders with my skills?” she asked.

“Yes,” Santos replied. “I’m sure there would be a way.”

“Could I bargain with one? My talents for their protection?”

“It’s possible,” Santos said. “But dangerous.”

“Why? You said they could earn guilders with me.”

“And they could,” Santos replied. “If they chose to. But more importantly, you could help an Assassin stay alive. As I said, they don’t live long. What would another year or two of life be worth to a man trained to take the lives of others?”