He hadn't meant to neglect lived magic, and certainly it was a question always on his mind. But he'd sat in on the reports from the guard last week and felt vaguely nauseated at the chaos they faced. It was as though Carnate's inherent power had been trickling through his fingers, and then all of a sudden he'd realized how much was gone.
Grudgingly, he knew why Hestia did not want to focus on breeding lived magic. For one, they could hardly divert war funds for a program for schoolchildren. That was why he'd taken another tack, thinking the rot of smuggling would link more easily in her mind to the danger of war. It hadn't worked. Perhaps he'd only reminded her of the city's own dwindling funds.
And Hestia was a reasonable person and a good leader. It was the king who'd rail against disloyal citizens for not accepting their rations, or causing trouble. When he complained about these things, Hestia and Amadou sometimes shared a look across the table. The king had spent his whole life on the highest floors of the tower. The royal family had no idea the struggles a common family might face, or what they'd do to feed their families. Amadou himself had little remorse for installing his own extended family in the tower, where they had access to better resources.
His parents kept forcing him to eat more, despite his best efforts. His family was like that. There were so many of them, nieces and nephews and cousins, his youngest sibling just thirteen, that entering their apartments was like stepping into a quagmire. They showered him with questions and attention, complained about each other in an endless stream, wondered if he was eating/sleeping enough, if he had met anyone (always a shocking question to Amadou, there was a war on, by the tower), if it was dangerous, if the wall was strong, how were Ursa and Thisbe and Obiad and Isis and Khalil.
He grimaced when he thought of Ursa. He'd been trying to stop avoiding the topic of her pregnancy. He knew she could tell. They'd been friends since corresponding by letter when he'd first written to inform her of an open position in Carnate, and would she like to tour the city?
He'd met her at the gate. She'd been beaming. She made a joke about having spent her whole life covered in travel dust, and complimented the city and Obiad's daughter. Everyone had taken to her, and she'd taken to Carnate. And they'd become fast friends too... Well, fine, he'd always found her bewitching, but it had never gotten in the way of their work or their friendship. But now it most certainly was because he couldn't get over his own stupid jealousy.
Amadou resolved to do better in all areas: fighting for Carnate, and with Ursa.
He stopped outside of a brick building with white trim. A low brick wall marked off the courtyard. The courtyard was only large enough for a carriage to drop off or pick up passengers, no more. Carnate was too crowded, and only the oldest monied families had manor houses with long drives or other luxuries.
That being said, he hadn’t been expecting this.
It all looked very...innocent. He knew that was the point. Xavier the Red did not want to be mistaken for any sort of criminal, not any more. Amadou thought back to when the smuggler had been called into the tower. He'd arrived by coach with blacked out windows, not disembarking until the doors had closed behind him. Neither party wanted the outside world to know they were working with the other.
There's a reason he doesn't want to be associated with the tower, Amadou thought. A legitimate businessman would want the clout, but to Xavier, his criminal connections might not like to see him working too closely with the tower, and for whatever reason, Xavier wasn't reformed enough to discount his underworld connections.
Amadou would keep that in mind during their interview.
He himself had nothing to hide, and his reputation was practically unblemish-able, the city held him in such high regard. So he felt no trepidation at all that Xavier might stain him by association. Amadou swept his black robes back and strode to the front doors.
A young footman had the door open before he fully reached it, and an elderly butler greeted him with a dignified bow.
"Sorcerer. We saw you approach," the butler said by way of explanation. He gestured, and led Amadou up the stairs. The footman slipped away. Amadou guessed he'd gone to forewarn his master.
Amadou sometimes wondered if it would ever go to his head, the effect he had on people. He knew some arrogant sorcerers, there was no question about that. But many came from rich families already, and the arrogance may have been wrapped up in their upbringing already. Ursa's family is well-off, and she isn't arrogant. I wonder what her child will be like...
He quashed that train of thought. She's having a baby with someone else. There could hardly be a clearer sign of her disinterest in you, you dunce.
The butler opened a set of doors on the second floor. Beyond, Xavier's expansive office was revealed. Against the far wall, a large mahogany desk sat before the window. Between him and the desk, a sitting area with sofa and armchairs sat a comfortable distance in front of a fireplace, set into the wall to his left. To his right, a small library curved around the wall, several shelves deep.
Amadou, grudgingly, loved it. He wouldn't mind a similar setup for himself, with space for the others to gather, and a workroom attached. The workroom could be a mess, but a charming office like this revealed none of the chaos of work.
A young woman strode forward from the sitting area with long steps. She held out a hand and met his eyes as they shook hands.
"Sorcerer Amadou, I'm so desperately excited to meet you! My name is Philippa, I am Xavier's daughter."
Amadou barely concealed a surprised look. He'd had no idea the smuggler had a daughter, and a confident one at that. Philippa was smartly dressed, with large, dark eyes and chestnut hair neatly coiled and pinned.
"You are too gracious. I've come unannounced."
She waved this away as she guided him to a seat. "Not at all, your business waits for none, I am sure." Her wide eyes raked over him with a shrewd look. Amadou smiled. A smuggler's daughter, and no fool herself. Another day, he'd have paid to hear her tell of her childhood.
Philippa assured him her father would arrive momentarily, and they passed the time discussing the coffee available. These conversations were normal since the siege began, and Amadou nodded politely as Philippa described the brews available—as if their housekeeper had gone to market today to pick up the latest, when in reality no foreign luxuries were entering the city. Even a wealthy smuggler had to tighten his belt under these extreme circumstances.
Xavier the Red entered through a back door as the butler was setting the tray of coffee, sugar, and cream on the table. Like everything in the office, the coffee pot, cups, saucers, and teaspoons were expensive and beautiful.
Philippa and Xavier were both dressed in similar fashion, which Amadou found cute. She'd inherited her father's tastes, it seemed.
He and Xavier exchanged greetings. Xavier was a good-looking older man. His hair was silvering. He was naturally tall, and cut an imposing figure. His movements were smooth. Amadou had never trained much with weapons, but he could guess at the skills it took to hold on to Xavier's position as king of the underworld. The man was still healthy, still dangerous, and with uncertain allegiances.
I've made a mistake. I thought this would be simple. Instead, two predators have me in their territory.
He changed what he had planned on saying. He'd have to walk a line now: to get information without revealing to Xavier or Philippa anything the two might use against the tower. He hoped they could still help while he held so much back.
"I won't take up too much of your time," Amadou began. "As you may know, discord affects our magic, and chaos within Carnate can weaken our defenses."
They nodded. Most people already knew this about magic.
"I'm exploring a new avenue, and I wanted to know more about the current magic smuggling operations in the city." No need to mention the Hji right now.
Two pairs of eyebrows arched, though Xavier and Philippa let him finish.
"I do not have the time or desire to crack down on
smuggling. But anything magical falls under my domain, and I must learn everything I can about it.”
"Surely the guard are a better fit for such a question." Philippa took a sip of her coffee.
"I seek to understand all angles," Amadou said. "The guard cannot help me... make a purchase. I want to better understand how smuggling works in Carnate. I cannot disguise myself as a smuggler, but perhaps I have an inroad in the other direction."
The idea came to him at the spur of the moment, but he thought it held water. He did not want to stoke fear by mentioning the Hji. He also did not want to give Xavier the Red too much information.
Father and daughter were too professional to telegraph their feelings. Amadou could almost see the wheels turning behind their eyes. Would they want something from him in exchange?
"Ursa suggested you may know of a way to help me... discreetly, of course."
This, finally, drew a reaction from Xavier. "Ursa, of course. Yes, we will help."
Philippa stirred her coffee and made no comment.
Xavier went on. "As you know I've retired from that world."
"Certainly," Amadou said, without revealing any opinion on the statement.
"So my information is not all accurate anymore. But I do know of a buyer. She goes by Cirina and operates out of the Sledge. The crews are harder to contact. The guard had likely informed you probably know the big ones, Arrowhead and Demon's Breath?"
Amadou nodded. The names came up from time to time, but he rarely needed to know the specifics.
"These crews run large operations, and they won't take individual orders, not from someone they don't already trust. You'll spend a lot of time breaking in and it sounds like you don't plan on that just yet. An easier window is through freelancers like Cirina. I don’t know how she operates since the siege. But I doubt she’s left the life. She’ll be a foothold for you.”
“Perfect,” said Amadou encouragingly, wondering what he was getting himself into.
" But to be honest, you'll have to get to one of the crew leaders if you really want to make a difference."
"Loviva Shayu and Renat Defour?"
Xavier nodded. “Those are the two. For now, at least.”
That was the most he could get out of either of them. The two traded guarded looks and kept the conversation helpful on the surface, but without revealing much at all. He didn't think Ursa would send him into a viper's nest, but he was glad he'd played his cards close to the vest. Whatever Xavier was, he was canny.
Grimacing, Amadou realized Hestia may have been right about him being out of his depth.
He made his excuses to the father and daughter, and left the manor deep in thought.
Amadou was last to arrive for the sorcerers’ "family dinner". Another way they fostered lived magic: the sorcerers ate together. Four times a week, the meal was mandatory, the rest of the time, it was highly recommended. This evening, Thisbe and Obiad were returning from the wall, and Ursa and Khalil were due in two hours. The wall could go a couple hours without their presence, especially when the Hji had been quiet that day.
As usual, the group of them were already chattering over each other. Khalil was doling out portions while crowing loudly. It took Amadou a minute to understand that Obiad's thirteen-year-old daughter Jehean had displayed a magical ability for the first time. This was quite late in life, particularly for a sorcerer's child, and had come as a surprise to everyone.
Obiad was the eldest of them, with a wife and daughter who lived in the tower. Isis had two children, aged five and six, with her wife. Thisbe was of an age with Obiad, though she was unmarried and had no children, she often sided with Obiad against the younger sorcerers. Khalil and Ursa similarly enjoyed the perks of being young and powerful at court, though of course Ursa had had fewer late nights since the pregnancy.
Isis was just about to start her usual lecture of how she'd fostered magical abilities in her children (a preachy tale Obiad in particular had grown tired of), when Amadou broke in with congratulations for Obiad. The group welcomed him enthusiastically, asked him where he'd been, and never heard the answer as they got distracted by an argument over the consistency of the rice.
Ursa winked at him. "I'll find you after my shift. I want to hear about your side project."
He started to answer, but Obiad cornered him to discuss Jehean's magical training, and Amadou gave the happy father his full attention.
~*~
Ursa's steps dragged as she made her way up to the top of the tower. She could have fashioned a magical way up, but she preferred to walk. It was before dawn, just before the occupants of the tower would rouse and begin their days. The wall had been quiet, which meant she'd been able to spend time in the healer's ward, fix equipment, and meet with station commanders to discuss the state of the wall. The guard were obsessed with the wall. She understood it was more tangible to them than the magical bubble, the Great Dome, surrounding the city. The dome was only visible if you caught it out of the corner of your eye on an overcast day. She was far more concerned with shoring up the dome than any cracks in the wall, but she humored the guard. They were good at their jobs; they might catch something important. But privately she thought the walls were as likely to fall as the tower itself.
And then she'd practiced some shapeshifting with some younger guard. As a sorcerer, she could shift into cat form, but she did not connect with it in the same way as Carnate folk. It wasn't a part of her identity, any more than the raven or seal or inchworm that she could also shift into.
They always spent a good amount of time around the younger guards and new recruits, of which there had been an influx since the war began. Sorcerers carried a mystique. Amadou in particular had a reputation as being fearfully powerful, something Ursa found hilarious. She could not see her friend that way. And she couldn't say if Amadou truly was most powerful among them. Thisbe and Obiad were older, and wrought intricate, faultless magic. Khalil's magic was as quicksilver as his personality. He always managed to slip through her fingers when they sparred. Raw magic poured out of Isis in waves. And Amadou—his was of grounding, deepening, and steadying. He kept the coolest head, which was why he was best suited to liaise with the government, and why when he was present all their magic was stronger.
Ah, she'd made it to the top. It never failed. Just when she wanted to complain, her thoughts wandered and before she knew it the steps were falling away.
"I'll make you tea," Amadou said as she swung the door open.
Ursa smiled. He was always here in the early mornings, greeting her as she came back from the wall, or perhaps slinking in after an evening spent in someone else's bed. She'd have been surprised if he hadn't been up early.
"Khalil?"
"Meeting his auntie."
Amadou nodded as he poured water into a kettle. She settled into one of the cushions on the floor.
"Tell me about Xavier."
He relayed his experience. Ursa tapped her chin with her fingers.
"I haven't met the daughter," she said. "Philippa?"
"Yes, but I don't think that's the most important piece of information," he said with a chuckle. "Are you searching for names?"
She brushed her fingers over her belly before reaching for the cup of tea. "I already know the name."
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but stopped himself. Instead, he settled into a cushion across from her. She knew he cared more about getting into the details of his meeting with Xavier.
"I don't know what those two are plotting, if anything," she offered. "I am sorry I did not warn you better. When I worked with Xavier he was...more mellow. He was already earning a favor from Hestia. That must have been good enough for him. He didn't want anything from me."
...Well, he'd wanted something. She got goosebumps, remembering him sliding a hand up her thigh to part her legs.
"...don't know where to go from here. What do you think?"
Ursa cleared her throat. "You're only one person. Not go
ing to solve all of Carnate's problems overnight."
Sure, her mind might have wandered, but she knew her friend. He didn't just want to boost the magic of the city. He secretly hoped for a secret weapon, a way to drive off the Hji overnight. She thought of the war as a puzzle box to be solved slowly, but she knew he considered it to be a locked box, that he could open as long as he found the right key.
He sat back, his black robes falling open to reveal the simple shirt with Nehru collar and trousers beneath. His lanky body stretched across multiple cushions.
She threw a small pillow at him. "Don't sulk, I didn't say give up."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying we should disguise ourselves and try to buy from this Cirina person."
That energized him. He sat up. "Really?"
"Xavier says Cirina is our best next step. He could be lying, but even if we tie him down and feed him truth potions, we don’t know what to ask him. Let’s get more information.”
He was considering it. “I was thinking we disguise some guards…but that would require Hestia or Guenhwyvar’s approval. If I went myself…”
She smiled and sipped her tea, loving the enthusiastic light that came into his eyes when he was formulating a plan.
"Xavier did tell me she operated out of the Sledge."
"Do you know where that is?"
"I know we weren't allowed to go there when I was younger. I'll have to tread carefully."
"We." She spoke with finality.
He eyed her. "I don't want to put you into unnecessary danger."
"Ama, you've proven you have no skill for deception. You strolled right up to Xavier and Philippa without a plan in your head."
He chuckled. "You make an indisputable point."
She rose and straightened her robes. "Well then. I'm going to bed. When you return from the wall, we'll figure out our plan and head out to the Sledge."
"Sleep well."
"Be safe."
~*~
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