Unguilded (3 page)

“You’re fine, so settle down,” the voice said. “Got a card game waiting.”

Solid footsteps headed away from her, and Kara took a shallow breath. Her heart pounded as though she’d run all the way to Primus Diallo’s house, at the very top of the villa.

A shout, followed by laughter, filtered to her through the open stable door.

“Coming, coming,” the stable hand’s voice replied, farther away from her now.

Kara stood and peeked over the rough wood of the stall—the door shut, muffling the noise from the square.

She was safe, for now. She leaned against the stall and slid to the ground, her legs suddenly weak. She would not cry. Nothing was ever gained by feeling sorry for herself. She’d learned that when Noula had moved in. Besides, wherever she ended up, it couldn’t be worse than the future Mage Guild had planned for her.

Kara wiped her hands on her skirt and looked up. The horse eyed her from the opposite corner, the grey-black mist still swirling around it.

She frowned. She’d first seen mist like this when she was eight and the Mage Guild Tester had come for her initial test. A faint blue cloud had enveloped him, and Kara had been delighted. She’d thought of him as the Blue Mage, though she’d been too shy to mention it. The blue was similar to the colour of the columbine flowers that grew on the side of the mountain so Kara picked flowers for him each visit. When she turned thirteen, Noula had forbidden it. It wasn’t seemly for a young woman to give a grown man flowers, she’d said. By then the Mage Guild Tester’s visits caused so much anxiety that she’d stopped wondering what caused his blue mist.

Then her mother and Guild Secundus Valerio Valendi had arrived—and like her tester, they had their own swirls of mist.

Kara had hoped to ask her mother about the mists when she’d asked to see the sunset, but Kara had forgotten about it once her fate as a breeder had been confirmed.

She stepped a little closer to the horse. The mist eddied away from her, as if blown by a gentle breeze. She blew out softly, but the mist didn’t react. She lifted a hand, and the mist swirled away from her fingertips.

According to the stable hand, this was Mage Guild Secundus Valendi’s horse—and the mist was the same shade of grey-black that surrounded him. Had his mist, whatever it was, somehow rubbed off onto the horse?

She wished she’d asked her mother. Kara paused. Maybe it was better this way. Being able to see the mist might prove that she had enough magic to be promising as a breeder. It wasn’t a sign that she had real magic—the Mage Guild Tester had been very clear about what to expect when her magic
found
her.

“It will feel like a soft wave has washed over you,” he’d said. “And for a moment your head will feel so light that you won’t believe your feet are still on the ground.” There had been no mention of coloured mists.

“What does this do to you?” Kara whispered. She placed her hand on the horse’s nose.

It snorted and backed up a bit, just out of reach, the skin on its neck twitching.

Kara reached out again, this time to the horse’s neck. Again the mist retreated from her hand. She stroked the warm brown hide, and the horse leaned into her touch. The mist eddied away from her hand and bunched up along the animal’s back. Kara plunged her hand into the middle of it. The mist around her hand started to change colour, going from grey-black to white. Startled, she snatched her hand away.

Slowly, the mist continued to whiten. Was this the horse’s natural mist colour? Did horses naturally have mist? She’d only seen one other horse in her life, the dappled grey that had belonged to the Mage Guild Tester, and there had been no mist swirling around it, not even the blue of the Mage who owned it. But Secundus Valendi was the second most powerful man in all of Tregella—his magic would be very strong. Had riding the horse transferred Valendi’s mist to it, or had he somehow deliberately put the mist on the horse?

She glanced into the other stall—there was no cloud of violet surrounding her mother’s horse. Was Valendi’s magic that much stronger than Arabella Fonti’s? Kara shivered. Her mother was the strongest Mage seen in this part of Tregella in generations, how much more powerful was the Mage Guild Secundus?

She examined at the horse. The mist, now a white cloud, gently swirled around the animal. Had it thinned out? Yes, she could see through it to the horse’s hide. As she stared, the mist faded until not a trace of it remained. The horse snorted and shook itself, its skin quivering from neck to tail.

Kara stepped away and pressed herself against the rough wood of the stall door. The mist was gone. Because of her—because of whatever she’d done to it when she’d petted the horse—the mist was completely gone.

The horse took a couple of prancing steps towards her and tossed its head. Could it feel the difference? The animal tossed its head again. She didn’t have any more time to worry about this—she’d already been inside the stable too long.

Kara eased open the stall door and slipped out into the aisle. She latched the door and crept towards the stable doors. Her pack firmly settled on her back, she pulled her shawl over her dark hair. Carefully she tugged open one tall door. The group was still in the lower square, their quiet conversation a steady murmur in the still night.

With a deep breath, she rounded the corner and headed behind the stable, out of sight of the square. When she reached the road, she looked back, once, before she hurried off into the night, towards an uncertain future.

IT WAS JUST
before dawn, and Arabella stood in the doorway, staring out across the rooftops and down towards the valley floor. Banio Fonti—her
husband
—hovered behind her.

“A search party is not required,” Arabella said sharply. “The Mage Guild Secundus will handle this.”

“But I feel some responsibility,” Banio stuttered. “That our daughter should prove to be so defiant.”

Arabella turned her head and stared at him. “I gave her to you to raise,” she said. “So I do not share your responsibility.” She turned to the valley vista, watching the line of shadows retreat as the sun rose over the mountains. “Valerio Valendi has agreed to deal with the child. He has already sent a spell to find her.”
And kill her
.

It had taken some time to convince Valerio, and she’d had to play the grieving and reluctant mother, but her years within Mage Guild had taught her how little men understood women, and how readily they believed in a mother’s love.

Noula was another matter. After her initial distress at not being able to find the girl, she’d had the impudence to ask Arabella what she had said to her. Noula would not question her again—not if she wanted her own child to live. Because a mother’s love
did
exist, for some. For Noula’s son, apparently.

She stepped back, forcing Banio to scuttle out of her way. How she longed to be out of this Gyda-forsaken villa!

“I will see the Villa Mage Guild Primus,” she said.

“Yes, Donna,” Banio replied. “But it is early. He may not yet be awake.”

“Wake him!”

“Of course,” Banio said.

A smile curved her lips as he half-bowed. He had been so smug all those years ago, when he’d had the power to allow her to escape this villa. Now
she
had all the power.

“What should I tell him you wish to discuss?”

“Our marriage,” Arabella replied. “I want it ended.”

“End our marriage?” Banio’s voice was a whisper.

“Yes,” Arabella said. “With the child gone, so is the reason for our marriage.”

“But . . .” Banio shut his mouth. He dropped his eyes to the floor, and his shoulders sagged. “I may lose my position within the guild.”

“A position you have because of
me
—because of
my
sacrifice.”

Banio’s eyes met hers, and she saw defiance in them.

“You would contest me on this?” she asked softly. “Remember who I travel with. I could have you sent somewhere else.” She had hated growing up here—couldn’t leave fast enough—but there were worse places within Mage Guild. Even if he lost his current position, Banio could salvage a higher rank here than he would somewhere new—where he wasn’t known. He looked away, and she smirked.

“I will bring the Villa Primus at once.” Banio’s gaze dropped to the floor again, and he bowed formally as Arabella swept from the room.

She heard the front door open and close even before she’d reached the small sitting room. Valerio’s spell would take care of the girl, and with her marriage finally dissolved, she would finally sever all ties to Villa Larona.

THE NIGHT HAD
been cold, much colder than Kara expected. Nearly dawn now, the frigid wind still whipped across the valley and right through her woolen shawl. She pulled it tighter and tucked her chin into her chest.

The road followed the winding path of the River Dag, and the rushing rumble of the water sounded dangerous in the gloom. Shadowy willow trees lined the river, their limbs swaying and swishing in the wind.

She’d stopped once to quench her thirst, stumbling through the night to crouch at a wide bend in the river, scooping up the icy water with one hand. Her fingers never felt quite warm after that, even when tucked inside her shirt, next to her skin.

She glanced behind her—the road was empty—there were no signs of pursuit. Lights from houses in Villa Larona dotted the mountainside and there, near the top, a light that might be her father’s house.

She imagined her mother, beautiful and implacable, and Papa trying to hide his fury. And Noula—angry, bitter Noula—forced to keep the tea pot full and serve the woman who was taking away what little she had.

Kara shook her head. Noula deserved it. The woman had made her feel unwanted, an outsider in her own home. And Papa had allowed it. All he cared about was his status—status he had because Kara was a potential Mage and the granddaughter of the Villa Mage Primus. But Grandfather died and Kara never found magic, so her use to her father vanished.

She felt numb, both physically and emotionally, as she trudged along the road. Would the searchers carry lights? Would she be able to see them coming for her?

If she were caught, Mage Guild would take her to Rillidi and pair her with someone with more magic than anyone in Larona had. She would have no choice in the matter—old men would decide who she bedded, who she lived with, how many children she gave birth to. She would never have her own place or anyone who cared about
her
. Except for any children she bore—children who might end up like her, with no magic, no choice, and no real place in the world.

Kara stumbled on a rut in the road, remembering the way Mage Guild Secundus Valendi’s blue eyes had appraised her when they’d met. She would never be able to refuse such a powerful man if he decided to father children on her.

She tightened her shawl around her shoulders and shivered, her eyes on the road, watching one foot shuffle forward, then the other, over and over and over. Her breath puffed out in a cloud, and she clutched at her shawl.

Now that it was dawn she could see the road. The sun kissed the top of Villa Larona, and the white houses at the summit sparkled against the clear blue of the sky. She had hoped to make it as far as the fork where the Larona and Mountain roads met before dawn came, bringing the expected search party. But she was still hours away from safety.

Searchers would assume she’d go to Rillidi. There was no other possibility for her—other villas were too small for her to hide or disappear in. Villa Merchant was the closest villa to Larona, and from there it was a short ferry ride to Rillidi. That was the route everyone would expect her to take—the route that would be most closely searched. So that was the route she didn’t dare travel.

No, she would take the longer, more difficult road that wound through the Zaltara Mountains. It meant days, even weeks of travel, but eventually she’d get to Rillidi Port and find a ship that could take her away from Tregella. Her mother’s guilders and jewels would be enough for that, she hoped.

Fear shuddered through her, and she stumbled and almost fell again.
Stop it
. She would not be afraid! She would turn her fear into anger—anger that she had no good choices in life, anger that the guild that should protect instead would use her. But it was harder to bury her fear with anger when she was tired, and her feet ached after a long night of walking, and Mage Guild would be pursuing her soon.

It was now too light to risk being caught on the road. She looked left, up the mountain to a line of pine trees that traced a ridge not more than a mile away. If she could make it there she could find a place to hide—a small cave or crevasse, maybe even a thicket of brambles.

Kara stepped off the road. Dew from the long grass dampened her skirt and her shoes. She trailed a hand along the plants, wiping cool, wet fingers over her dusty face.

It was uphill, and the closer she got to the ridge, the steeper the incline became. Halfway up, the slope became rocky, and she had to scrabble, grabbing at the tough dry plants that clung to the hillside. Again and again she checked over her shoulder, praying that the valley road would remain empty of riders.