by Kaylin Lee
I let out a quiet laugh. “You’re probably right. Besides, knowing what’s … coming, I wouldn’t mind a bit more time in the sun.”
Ella’s eyebrows furrowed, but she shook off the dark expression and pulled me into the hallway. “Then let’s go.”
Crisp wind pulled my loose hair away from my face even as the late-summer sun warmed my cheeks and forehead. The seasons were changing already, and my sentencing hour would be here before long. Why couldn’t time slow down for once?
We walked through a small herb garden first, then a courtyard with low, scraggly bushes. “I’ve never seen so many common plants before,” I murmured, before thinking the better of it.
Ella laughed, but she didn’t sound offended. “Quite different when they’re not being tended by grower mages, aren’t they?”
I rubbed the dry, prickly leaves of a nearby bush. “They can’t possibly be healthy in this state.”
Ella shook her head. “These are probably native plants, meant to grow in our region, unlike the plants imported from other parts of Theros. Not as pretty, but much stronger. They’ve adapted to survive here.”
Not as pretty, but much stronger. I pulled my hair over my shoulder and grimaced as the simple motion shot pain through the back of my head. “I never thought I’d be jealous of a plant.”
Ella frowned and looked down as though just now considering her words. “I’m sorry, Belle—”
“Forget it. You were only speaking of plants.” I forced my tone to brighten. “And I was just joking, anyway.” Ella looked about to protest, so I changed the subject. “Have you noticed the Royal Palace seems rather empty? I know they don’t allow mages here, other than trackers, but what about regular servants? I’ve never seen anyone other than guards.”
Ella sent me a sidelong look but didn’t push back on my evasiveness. “Our committee meets here at the palace to avoid interference from the Procus lords who serve in the regular government buildings. I’ve noticed the lack of servants as well, and I’ve wondered …” She glanced over her shoulder, then lowered her voice. “Do you think His Highness can’t afford them?”
I laughed out of sheer surprise—a short, noisy sound that Ella followed with a shushing noise. “That’s ridiculous.”
She crossed her arms as we wound past the end of the low bushes and reached the front courtyard where she and I had nearly been killed trying to warn Estevan about the Crimson Blight. “Are you certain?”
I thought back to my first dinner with Estevan the night of my arrest. Our treasury is devoted to government and defense, not frivolity, he’d said. “Well …”
Had the plague so decimated Estevan’s coffers that he had to cut back the palace’s expenses? The plague, market crash, and closing of the trade routes had impacted much of the city, it was true. And the government had fed the city’s poor with victus and warmed them with suffio rations for years. That must have been expensive. But how could my father’s bank be so profitable when the palace was stretched thin? “I wonder if—”
There was a loud screeching sound, like fomecoach tires stopping too quickly. Then a guard shouted, and his voice was joined by another. Ella and I whirled to face the front gates on the other side of the wide, empty front courtyard.
A fomecoach was parked at a haphazard angle beside the gate. A bearded, pot-bellied Procus lord clambered from the backseat. “I demand entrance at once,” he shouted to the nearest guard.
The guard shot a wary look back toward the palace. “If you’ll wait—”
Another fomecoach sped down the street and skidded to a halt beside the first. A taller man with tan skin and a short, grey beard got out. Lord Falconus.
I shrank back, edging toward the palace. If Falconus was here, my father would surely follow. Did he already know I was out of the dungeon, dining with the prince himself each evening?
“We demand entrance.” Falconus drew himself up and lifted his chin. “Now, young man.”
Another guard joined the first, a clipboard in one hand. “We have nothing on the schedule suggesting—”
“Strike your schedule!” Falconus slammed the locked gate with one fist. “Let us in, NOW.”
When three more fomecoaches pulled up behind the two lords in short succession, the guards at the front gate capitulated.
I pulled Ella into a shadowy alcove of the palace and hoped that, with our plain, common-fabric dresses, we looked like two of the absent maids we’d just been discussing.
The cluster of furious Procus lords stormed through the courtyard and into the palace’s main entrance, sparing us not a glance.
“Any idea what that was about?”
Ella shook her head. “Wes told me the Procus patriarchs almost never come to the palace. Not unless—” Ella blanched. “Not unless they’re convening the formal Court of Lords to rule against Prince Estevan.”
“Rule against what? What could he possibly have done— Oh.” A sick feeling twisted my stomach. “You mean to veto the changes he just proposed for the mage regulations—like dismantling the True Name system.” And they could only veto his edicts because he was still the Crown Prince and not the king. Because I had refused to marry him …
Ella twisted the ends of her hair in one hand, her face set in a furious scowl. “Unbelievable. Those rats. After all we’ve done, after all we’ve revealed about the cost of the True Name system, they— And they’ve been enslaving mages for hundreds of years! The Crimson Blight would never have risen to such power if they hadn’t insisted on controlling mages so completely. And now—”
She broke off and clenched her fists, as though too angry to finish the sentence. Then something behind me caught her attention, and she pressed her hands to her mouth. “Oh, no …”
I turned to follow her gaze. A pitch-black, armored fomewagon stopped at the palace gates, and a series of black-clad guards surrounded it. I’d never seen guards in such plain uniforms.
“Sentinels.” Ella answered my unspoken question. “They train to fight mages. They’re like Prince Estevan’s own division of the guard. And they’re … well, Zel’s husband is one of them. I wonder …”
Sure enough, the next moment, a tall, golden-haired woman was ushered from the fomecoach, followed by two wide-eyed girls. “Is that—”
“My stepmother and stepsisters,” Ella said, her tone bleak as she lifted one hand and waved at them. The Sentinels encircled them and hustled them toward the palace. “The Herald published that article about Zel this morning. They must not be safe in the Mage Division anymore. We knew it was possible the public would react badly, but we’d hoped …”
I couldn’t look away. It was the first time I’d seen Ella’s stepmother in person. The woman stood straight and tall, her face set in a calm mask even as her daughters huddled fearfully behind her and the guards hurried her forward, toward the palace.
“She has the Touch?”
Ella nodded.
A mage who could absorb any life with the grip of her hand—and who could resist her True Name. I shivered at the thought. She was terrifying.
Ella sent me a sidelong glance. “Did you read the article?”
“Yes …”
She crossed her arms. “Then you know she’s not a threat to anyone. If anything, she’s been a victim of her own power. She never wanted the Touch. She was just born with it. Yet she’s been enslaved her whole life because of it. How can we call Asylia a free and peaceful city when we’re enslaving mages right and left? In that regard, we’re even worse than Draicia.”
I pursed my lips as my head began to pound. “I know.” The admission stuck in my throat, but I managed to grind it out anyway. Thankfully, Ella didn’t seem to gloat at my acknowledgement. “Besides, even if the Procus families resist giving up their control over mages, they must understand the simple logic of the problem now that she’s resisted her Name. If even a single mage can resist the True Name’s control, the system is broken.”
Ella nodded. “Exactly. Continuing the
system would only create another Crimson Blight, and if the next leader is able to resist his True Name, they’ll no doubt make it farther than the first.” She rubbed her hands on her upper arms, then gasped, drawing my attention back to Zel. “What’s—”
I turned just in time to see an invisible force fling the Sentinels around Zel into a wide circle in the air, then hurtle their bodies to the hard ground. A few men rolled at the impact and ended in a low crouch, but several bodies didn’t move. Zel crouched at the center of the circle of bodies and put her arms protectively over her daughters’ heads.
Ella stumbled out of our alcove toward Zel, but I grabbed her and yanked her back.
A young man in a red palace guard uniform strode toward them, his hands outstretched in a strange gesture. “Why would a guard—”
“He’s not a guard.” Ella pulled, but I held her tight. “He’s an expellant mage. A mover mage. I think he’s attacking your stepmother.”
Chapter 9
The crouching Sentinels advanced on the mage, but he flung out his hands again, slamming them violently to the ground with his magic. This time, when the attack ended, only two Sentinels were still standing.
I pressed against the cold stone wall of the palace. “Do you think he’s from the Crimson Blight?”
“He must be. And she killed his leader. She killed all of their top leaders.” Ella wrapped her arms around her torso and shivered.
Zel stood from her crouch. “Run!” She shouted at the twins, then shoved them behind her. The girls sprinted for shelter in the black fomewagon as Zel marched toward the mage in the guard’s uniform.
“What is he thinking?” I shook my head at the mage’s foolishness. “She’ll kill him in an instant!”
Ella opened her mouth as though to argue, but then the mage attacked Zel again, and Ella watched with fists clenched, her protests forgotten.
The mage whipped his hands toward Zel, and she dodged to the side as the invisible blast of expellant magic swept past her. The magical blow was so strong, it sent waves of air back to our alcove, slamming us against the stone wall. I peeled myself off the ground but stayed low, as did Ella.
I rubbed my bruised shoulder. “Should we run for the palace entrance?”
“No.” Ella’s features were set in a stubborn frown. “Zel has this.”
Zel continued to approach the mage. Soon, he’d be within her reach.
The nearest Sentinels made it to their feet and armed their crossbows, advancing on the mage just a few feet behind Zel. The mage shot another blast at them, but this time, they dodged it as Zel had. Ella and I pressed low to the ground and managed to avoid being smashed against the wall a second time.
Zel reached him. The young mage stumbled back, but it was too late.
I shut my eyes, suddenly sick at the thought of seeing Zel use her terrible power.
Then Ella grabbed my arm and squeezed. “Don’t worry, Belle.”
I pried my eyes open, and then I frowned at the unexpected scene in the courtyard. “Why is he still moving?” Zel had tackled the mage to the ground and now held him pinned under her body in a strange position as he kicked his legs and struggled to escape. “Does it take that long to use her Touch?” And yet if she was using her Touch, it wasn’t working. He didn’t stop struggling. If anything, the longer she pinned him, the more intense his movements grew.
“She’s not draining anything,” Ella said softly, her voice hushed with what sounded like awe. “She’s just … restraining him.”
I eyed the strange way Zel kept her head tucked in against his body. Somehow, though she was female and relatively slender compared to the male mage she’d pinned, the odd position of her body was tight enough to keep him in place. “But what about his magic?”
Ella stepped out of our alcove, and I followed. “I think she’s trying to prevent him from using his power against her. She hasn’t left any part of her body exposed. See her head? She’s so close to him now that if he tries to attack her with his magic, he’ll hurt himself too. The Sentinels use that technique to fight mages. She told me Darien was training her in their techniques, but I’ve never seen her do it.”
The Sentinels approached with their crossbows up. The mage must have forgotten about them, because they reached Zel and the mage without having to dodge any additional blasts of magic. They said something to Zel, and then, in a move too quick for me to see, she flipped the mage onto his stomach. The Sentinels swarmed him in a blur of dark motion, and then they all stepped back. The struggling mage’s hands were bound and encased in what looked from this distance like a thick, black cloth.
I pointed to the cloth. “What is that?”
“A muffler,” Ella answered. “For any kind of magic, expellant or absorbent. It’s a new design. We commissioned it as part of the new mage regulations, so that mage powers can be restrained safely by guards when a mage becomes a threat to the public. This way, we don’t have to rely on True Names to protect the people from mages.”
Her shoulders slumped, as though she’d released a deep breath. After a moment of quiet, she met my eyes and grinned. “It worked.”
“What worked?” I rubbed my hand on the back of my neck to ease the tension from my head, which I’d forgotten about in the excitement of the attack.
“The new plan. The new mage regulations. This proves it.” Ella nodded to herself. “Mages can be treated as ordinary citizens under the justice system, because we can restrain and arrest them without loss of life if they become a threat.” She pressed her fingers against her temples. “I suppose we just need to convince the Procus patriarchs to see it that way.”
~
Ella left me to follow Zel and the twins inside the palace. She must have forgotten about discussing my approaching sentencing.
“Just as well,” I murmured as I went in search of the legal library again. The last thing I wanted was to talk about what we’d learned yesterday. After a few wrong turns, I found the hallway that led to the library, but the spot between my shoulder blades itched the whole time. I couldn’t be at ease knowing the Procus lords were gathering in the palace today. Did my father know I was roaming free in the palace? What would he do if he caught me?
And why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I was being watched?
For the third time in the past few minutes, I paused to peer over my shoulder. The hallway was empty. The palace seemed to run on a skeleton crew of servants and guards, so that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But something about the quiet hallway just felt … wrong.
I sped up. My heart pounded. Finally, I glimpsed the green curtains inside the legal library. I rushed inside, pulled the heavy door shut behind me, and then collapsed against it, gasping.
The feeling of danger didn’t go away. What had I done? I wasn’t safe. I’d just enclosed myself in a room in a deserted wing of the palace. If there really was someone following me—if my father knew I was here—they had only to follow me into the library. I glanced around wildly, but there was nothing I could reasonably lift to shove in front of the door, and there was no lock on the door itself.
Several moments passed as I pressed my body against the door as though I could keep it shut myself, straining to hear any sign of movement in the hallway outside.
Nothing.
“I’m a fool,” I whispered as I finally shoved away from the door. “A coward and a fool.”
I’d been strong enough to survive nineteen years in my father’s house, but ever since the Blight’s attack, I’d been a weak, useless coward, afraid of my own shadow.
Grabbing the thick, gray legal code book from its place on the shelf, I went to the table and sat down. I flipped the book open and stared blankly at the tiny print on the page.
Now that I knew what Ella and Weslan had discovered in the justice records, a confusing section 37.5 of the legal code had become perfectly clear. Ministry of Justice clerks must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the accused is guilty before charges can be brough
t against the accused. The previous day, I’d been certain I’d misread that passage. They had to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the accused was guilty to secure a guilty verdict at the sentencing hour, didn’t they?
Now it was obvious. The charge of endangering the city by bringing back the plague was so serious, they couldn’t even bring the charge against the accused unless they were already nearly certain of guilt. That meant they were certain I was guilty, and that they had the evidence and testimonies needed to ensure a guilty verdict. I wouldn’t survive past my sentencing hour.
What if I told them everything my father had said before my arrest? Would the justice believe me and show me mercy?
“No.” I huffed out a sigh and leaned back in my chair with my eyes shut, suddenly tired, though it was only midday.
Even if I betrayed my father by pleading innocent and revealing that he’d blackmailed me, it would be my word against his. He’d either kill me or win the case.
I was dead either way.
~
I paced my room in a lacy, light-blue dress, twisting my sweet-smelling, oil-smoothed hair into a long spiral over my shoulder.
The palace courtyard outside my window was dark and quiet. It was well past twilight, and the moon had risen ages ago, but the prince’s guard still hadn’t come for me.
Had something happened? Perhaps something to do with the Court of Lords convening in the palace, or the mage’s attack on Zel? What if there were more Crimson Blight members disguised as palace guards?
My heart sank as another thought occurred to me. Maybe Estevan had simply given up courting me. If he only needed me as his wife to secure the mage regulations, then he could have decided to pursue the goal by simply persuading the Procus lords to see things his way.
If that were the case, I should be glad. Why did the thought sour my stomach instead?
I paced to the window and stood for a moment, watching the glowing moon cast its soft, white light over Asylia. Six weeks left.
No, by now it had to be five weeks, right? Five weeks left to live. I shut my eyes and imagined the moonlight bathing my face.