The Other Side of Magic

by Ester Manzini

  “Back in the old days when I worked for the Laskaris. The best blacksmith in Nikaia--I still am, am I not?” and she laughed. “Then magic was gone, but I could still work. Good to have something more than charm, eh?”

  Leo wiped her brow with her forearm and leaned on the shovel.

  “Are you trying to lecture me, here?”

  Larsa threw her two long braids back and shrugged.

  “You have no magic. You never had, right?” and she touched Leo’s forehead with her finger. She ducked and glared at her.

  “Of course not, everyone has magic. I only had very little, and…”

  “No. You have no sign there, not even this,” and she pointed at the faded scar under her hairline. “Nobody ever noticed.”

  “Bullshit. I probably had so little I ran out of it before I could…”

  “In Hirsland, we called it einklang. Magic is balance, so whenever a very powerful mage is born, that same day somewhere else a child comes into this world with little power.”

  Leo shook her head and took some more coal. Larsa continued, undeterred.

  “Your friend, the princess. They say her magic will never run out, and so you might be a schatten. You have no magic in you, and you darken other people’s light. Power.”

  Leo cackled.

  “Nice story. I knew little of Hirslandian folklore, so…”

  “Not folklore: science,” Larsa protested. “And it… ah.”

  The sudden hard note in the woman’s tone snatched Leo from her thoughts. She turned, and Gaiane was at the door. Her face was white as bones, her eyes wide.

  “I… just wanted to see if you could come to the library, but I see you’re busy,” she said in a strained voice.

  “No, I can--I think I can…”

  “Never mind. Good day to you, Larsa, and sorry for the interruption.” She turned and left, but Leo ran after her.

  “Wait!”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, Leo, I…”

  “I said wait,” she insisted, taking Gaiane’s wrist. “You heard that, right?”

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping! But I…”

  “You don’t believe that, do you? It’s fairytales, nothing more. You’re exhausted, and who knows what your family’s tricks have done to your power! You’ll be better, I know it!”

  Gaiane took Leo’s hand and slowly removed it from her arm, but her fingers lingered on hers a little longer.

  “Can you say it is?”

  “Of course! Come on, it’s ridiculous!”

  Gaiane took a deep breath and took a step back.

  “Don’t worry, I’m alright. I just need to… to check in the library, maybe I’ll find something interesting about this. I’ll see you later.” She smiled, but her eyes were avoiding Leo’s.

  “Gaiane, please, don’t…”

  But the princess took two steps away from her, then turned away.

  “Don’t worry.” she said again, waving at her behind her back.

  Leo stood motionless in front of Larsa’s forge, her heart cracking without her knowing why.

  Gaiane stopped by a corner. Leo gasped, hoping she’d come back, but her face was hidden by the fall of her hair.

  “I turned eighteen this past winter solstice,” she said before walking away.

  Leo froze. Larsa was calling her, reassuring her, she couldn’t hear her.

  She and Gaiane were born on the same day.

  With a start she snatched her arm from Larsa and her kind words behind her.

  Gaiane wasn’t that fast, but when she ran after her, Leo soon realized the girl simply didn’t want to be found. The sparse crowd closed between the two of them, and when Leo managed to wiggle her way among the people, Gaiane was gone.

  Chapter 17

  The royal palace’s war room had been a majestic place, with stained glass windows painting the marbles in speckles of green and red and blue. The table with the map of the territory, a slice cut from the biggest oak Evandro had ever seen.

  This one barely qualified as a room. No windows, and the table was just some boards place upon two sawhorses. But around it were queens and knights, and Evandro enjoyed the bubbling of excitement in his stomach.

  “She could be useful.” Althea said, standing still and stiff with her hands clasped in front of her.

  * * *

  “Or she could be dangerous. Probably both,” Mirone added. The old doctor was among the few who had escaped the siege, and he deserved his place at the table.

  Evandro stared at the table. There was no strategic map or pointers, just some candles and a graveyard of crumbles from their frugal morning breakfast.

  “She’s little more than a child…”

  “I know, Ligeia, but she was the force behind our demise. We must not forget it.” Althea started to pace, squeezing herself against the wall as she passed behind Evandro.

  “A child kept in chains and conditioned by her family. I think she deserves a chance.” Ligeia insisted.

  “Good think our Dawn Star didn’t kill her, then.” Mirone chuckled, but Evandro didn’t join him. His old title still rang wrong in his ears, and a creeping sense of guilt for his first reaction at finding Gaiane was becoming a stable company.

  “How could we put her to work, though?” He asked. “She’s unused to any kind of physical work.”

  “She’s a symbol. The Asares are mad about her disappearing, and they’d do anything to have her back.” Althea smoothed her short hair—so different from the jeweled braids she’d plaited them into as a queen--and looked at Ligeia. “I’m starting to think we should try to bargain with Zafiria.”

  “Would you trust them? Please, they started to burn villages and beat people just because their princess vanished under their nose,” Mirone snorted.

  “If I may, I think our queen would disagree, too,” Evandro said with a small bow. Ligeia clenched her fists on the table and glared at them all.

  “I do. I vehemently disagree,” she said through clenched teeth. “We’re not like them, Althea!”

  “And what would you do? Let them raid our country some more? It’s a matter of numbers, the life of one girl against that of thousands of people. It’s noble that you…”

  “It’s not just that. Are we so ready to give the Asares back what they consider their most powerful weapon?”

  Evandro's mouth twitched. Just a handful of days ago, the whole discussion would’ve made no sense to him. If the princess was a weapon, they needed to aim it against those who wielded it in the first place. Get their vengeance, set things right.

  Now, though, this simple vision felt naive. Wrong, even, as if it came from a man Evandro was but didn’t like.

  Accurate.

  “No,” Ligeia continued. “We need to find another way. She can help, and…”

  “How?” Althea snapped. “She can’t cast, you heard the stories. I’d even doubt her identity, weren’t she the exact copy of her mother.”

  “My ladies, with all due respect I think we are not in the position to argue about this issue. We must think of Nikaia’s good.” Evandro said. He would’ve added something else, but a furious banging at the door turned their full attention from the discussion.

  “Queen! Evandro! Whoever is in there--she’s gone! She left!”

  Evandro skin prickled as he bolted to the door and pulled the bolt. Leo’s fists hit him as she stumbled forward, and he caught her by her shoulders.

  “Hey, hey--calm down! What happened?”

  “Gaiane… she… she…”

  Leo sniffed and looked up at him, her black eyes round and wild. Her skin was pale and clammy, her face covered in sweat, her lips trembling. She half slumped in Evandro's arms and clenched her hands on his chest.

  “Gone! I went to check on her after I woke up, I searched the whole town, I went upstairs and… and…” She panted. “Her room is empty. Gaiane left.”

  The silence that engulfed the room was suffocating. Evandro swallowed hard, but his hea
rt was still somewhere in his throat. He could only stare at Leo, at the unshed tears of shock dangling from her lashes.

  His pulse roared in his head, but an unnatural sense of calm descended upon him.

  Purpose. Reason.

  “It’s not your fault, Leo, and you did good in coming to tell us. You did good, you hear me? Breathe, now. We’re taking care of it. Just breathe.” he insisted, rubbing her arms until her pants slowed down to a sobbing rhythm.

  * * *

  “It is my fault! Yesterday I… I…”

  “Come in,” he stopped her, closing the door behind her. He glanced at Ligeia, Althea and Mirone, but shocked as they were, they read through him and let him do the talking.

  “I’d been working with Larsa, and she told me some tale of her people. The… the… schatten, she called them, those like me, without magic. She said I was born like this to balance Gaiane’s infinite power, and… and Gaiane heard it!”

  “Wait--wait,” Ligeia couldn’t stop herself. “What’s this…”

  “We were born the same day! And Gaiane heard Larsa telling me this, and she was so upset, and…”

  “Leo, it’s alright. Look at me, like that. Good girl.” Evandro knelt at her feet and took her hands. “Do you know when she left?”

  Leo shook her head.

  “I checked on her for dinner, but she said she wasn’t hungry. Then I went to sleep, and…”

  “She was still here in the evening, then,” Althea said.

  “Thank you, Leo.” Evandro rose and gently escorted her to the table, where he cocked his eyebrows at Ligeia.

  “Oh? Yes, I… come here, Leo. You need something to eat, right? And maybe some water.”

  “I d-don’t want to… she can’t be out on her own, I don’t want her to be in danger!”

  “Neither do I,” Evandro whispered, but Leo heard him. Her fear burst into white-hot anger and she lashed at him.

  “Liar! You wanted her dead! You tried to kill her, and now you play the… the noble knight!”

  Althea gasped, but Evandro suffered her outburst in silence. It hurt, every word a memento of his mistakes and his stubborn short-sightedness.

  He deserved it all.

  “Leo, he was lost,” Ligeia tried to calm her. “He spent eight years mourning, while…”

  “You too, but you didn’t try to murder her!”

  “I had a family and a people that counted on me. They needed me to survive. I couldn’t allow grief to drive me to the brink of madness,” she whispered, hard. Then she stared at Evandro.

  “But he…”

  “I’m trying to become once more the man I was meant to be, Leo. I can’t change the past, but I can find Gaiane and bring her back safe.” He brought his fist to his brow. “And I will.”

  Leo sniffed and glared at him with mistrust, clenching her teeth.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said, slipping from Ligeia’s attentions.

  “No.”

  It was Althea who spoke, her face white and her eyes hard.

  Leo bared her teeth.

  “I came here with Gaiane, I took care of her, and I won’t…”

  “If Larsa is right, and at this point she might as well be, you’re useless in a fight.”

  “I’m not useless! Larsa said that those like me stop magic around them, and…”

  “It’s true. Ampelio said something like that, about his voice not being the same,” Ligeia interrupted her, then looked at Althea. “And this makes Leo even more precious.”

  “I want to go after Gaiane, and you can’t stop me!” Leo turned to storm out of the door, but Evandro gently put his hand out.

  “You can keep this whole city safe.” It was a stretch, but still worth a try. He didn’t want to endanger that girl, and Nikaia needed all the protection they could gather. “Do you trust me so little?”

  “Of course I don’t trust you, you wanted to…”

  “... kill her, yes, you said that. But now I vow to take her back safe and sound.” He bent the knee again, looking at Ligeia and clenching his fists to his chest.

  “The oath of a knight. One not so easily broken. As your queen, I hear you, Dawn Star. I vouch for you.”

  Leo pulled her own hair.

  “Should I believe you? Why?”

  “Because the last time I took such an oath I was ready to die for it, and I made the palace collapse on my head to keep it,” he said pointing his finger at the relics many yards above their heads. For the first time, the memory wasn’t that painful. He rose, and Leo sighed, defeated.

  “Bring her back,” she said, and Evandro closed his eyes.

  Did he really deserve this?

  I must prove myself.

  “Mirone, I’m heading out now. Is my horse ready?”

  “Of course not, but you can find it in the old stables. I’ll send word to bring you an armor.”

  “Good.” Evandro tied his hair back in a loose bun and bowed stiffly to the queen. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go as soon as possible.”

  “With my blessing, Dawn Star,” Ligeia said, and winked.

  Evandro tried not to grin and shot through the door.

  * * *

  The old stables were nearly empty. Apart from his horse--Evandro took mental note to find him a name--only another nag stood in the single other intact stall, a grey beast with a straw-like mane and placid eyes.

  Mirone had kept his word, and whatever communication system Nikaia had was working like a charm: his horse was saddled, and a crooked-teeth stable boy bowed reverently handing him the reins.

  Evandro thanked him quickly and inspected the pile of leather on the ground. Bits and pieces from at least four different armors, scratched and dented. Nothing like the steel he used to wear, but an armor nonetheless. He buckled it up and patted the sword at his belt, and in a matter of seconds he was out, under a bleak morning sky.

  Gaiane couldn’t be far: she didn’t know the land, and wasn’t trained to hide her tracks. If anything went as planned, they’d be back by nightfall.

  And if not…

  He’d barely reached the outskirts of the barren plain in front of the gates when the remainders of his burnt power made his senses prickle. He slowed down his ride, but the sound of hooves didn’t quiet down.

  He turned around and rolled his eyes.

  The grey horse was trotting toward him, and there was no mistaking the shock of golden hair bouncing under the clouded sky.

  “Go back,” he said out loud.

  Ampelio stopped at his side, his cheeks red and his eyes glimmering.

  “No way,” he panted. “Phew. I almost missed you…”

  Evandro kicked his horse’s sides.

  “I don’t need you. We had this conversation already, and this time I won’t change my mind.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Ampelio insisted. He wore a dark cloak wrapped around his lithe frame, and his voice had once more that supernatural rang to it. Maybe Larsa was right, after all?

  Evandro shivered and kept his eyes on the horizon.

  “I said go back. You’re no knight, and…”

  “Dawn Star, please--let me help.”

  Evandro pulled his reins so hard the horse snorted.

  “That’s it, then.” He sharply turned to face him, clenching his fists and narrowing his eyes. “You’re looking for fodder for your stories. Sorry but no, I won’t play the part!”

  “But I--”

  “No. This is not some fairy tale, Ampelio, and I don’t need an over excitable bard on my track. I know you’re looking for some more tales to tell, but the matter is serious. You’d only impede me.”

  “Or maybe--just maybe--I really want to come with you. Could you please put your uptight attitude down for a second and accept that people may care about you?”

  A rough whisper, with no trace of magic. Just the simple truth, told by a boy in his twenties with big eyes too eager for his own good.

  Evandro opened his mouth for another sn
arky retort, but his anger subsided.

  Ampelio had been part of the resistance for years. He was brave, and no doubt had the skills to survive. Maybe he did deserve a chance.

  A sigh, and Evandro clicked his tongue.

  Ampelio, right behind him, punched the air in exultance and hurried to keep up with him.

  “One thing,” Evandro said, pointing his finger at him. “Hold your tongue. I don’t think I could stand your endless ramblings right now.”

  “Your wish is my command, ser knight,” he replied, but the wink he gave him didn’t bode anything good.

  Still, Ampelio kept his word. They rode in silence well past noon. As expected, Gaiane hadn’t been subtle: her footprints on the barren plain led to the unequivocal trail she’d created in the grasslands and, later on, in the woods.

  The sky was turning a leaden grey, and Evandro stopped his horse on top of a low hill.

  “We must find her quickly,” he said, breaking the silence. Ampelio came up beside him and smirked.

  “Let me guess, it was too quiet and it was starting to feel uncomfortable, wasn’t it?”

  Evandro turned slowly toward him and shot him a deadpan gaze.

  “I’d rather not bring a drenched, sickly princess back to Nikaia. The last thing we need is an outburst of fever in the ranks.”

  “And you missed my voice, too. You can say it, it’s alright, I know how good it is, and…”

  “You’re making me regret my decision of bringing you along, you know?”

  “No you don’t,” he grinned, and Evandro shrugged and returned his gaze to the hill.

  Irritating, loud, nosy. But Ampelio did have a really nice voice, even when he was not infusing it with magic.

  I don’t, do I? he asked to himself. The realization stung deeply, and Evandro lowered his eyes on his fists, clenched on the reins. He tried to focus on the task at hand, but that unwanted sensation wouldn’t let him go. Ampelio and his oddly relaxing company were affecting him, and he didn’t want it. Didn’t deserve it. Out of habit, he tried to divert his thoughts to the familiar path of regret. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and evoked the last images of Eliodoro.