The Might of Magic
Page 19
It was quite clear, from the alchemist’s averted gaze and her somber tone that she thought herself a victim of the curse regardless of her being careful to only help and never harm.
If that was the case, if Tatum was cursed as all of the female alchemists were rumored to be, then what did it matter if Sabine sought to create a potion that would kill her enemies? Not just kill them, but to give them a frozen’s kiss…
Sabine had already created a potion, one that she sought to make it so that those who drank it would be compelled to tell the truth. Although it did work, it also killed the person. That unintended side effect meant she remained an apprentice, but not for long. Now with her mother’s notes…
Yes, Greta herself had dabbled in chemist, but she had never become an alchemist herself. Still, her notes were already proving rather useful, very useful indeed…
Sabine smiled to herself. The time would come, one day soon, when her potion would be perfected. Alchemy, somehow, ran through her blood, as it had with Tatum’s father, and her instincts combined with her knowledge from both her mother and Tatum’s father would enable Sabine to become Dragoona’s next alchemist. Yes, it would not be long now…
56
Olympia Li
The more Olympia debated with herself, the more she realized Bjorn was right. She could not set foot inside Atlan castle again. The legend of Jankin Rivera said that he killed the royals only, Olympia’s parents, which suggested that he must have imprisoned the guards, the soldiers, the maids and servants, the advisors… everyone who had been employed by the Lis. It was possible some of the maids and servants had been allowed to keep their positions. Olympia had seen twenty summers. It was possible those maids still lived. Not all of the scullery maids had been her age or younger. Some had white hair even, and it had truly been that color and not flour.
That people knew a Li princess lived meant that those who had been close to her family, to her parents, those who had tended to the queen directly might be able to recognize Olympia for who she was.
Might they recognize her brother as well? Perhaps not, given that they did not have a reason to compare his features to those of her father and mother. If the Fates were kind and looked favorably upon the Lis as they once had, then no one would discover her brother, no one save for Bjorn.
But then, had the Fates ever been kind to her parents? They had loved each other very much, or so Dong Han had told Olympia, and the people had loved them as well.
But not enough. The mere possibility of war with Vincana had allowed the people to stand aside as Jankin marched toward the castle. All had known why he was coming, and none had stopped him, not even their guards.
And the royals, they had been pinned down because of the queen giving birth. If they had not come out when they had, the queen might have been pregnant with them when she had been killed.
Had Jankin known about the queen? Did a woman still have their belly after giving birth? Her dress might have hidden what had to have been at least a much smaller belly, but there would have been blood, yes? She wouldn’t have had time to change.
What must those last minutes have been like for her father, for her mother? Had they held hands as Jankin struck them down? Had her mother remained in the bed she gave birth in?
Or had her mother turned to her loving husband and, as they heard the heavy footsteps that they knew belonged to Jankin, asked for him to kill her so that she might have a swift death?
Olympia wiped a hand down her face, but she was not crying. She had shed tears over her parents only once, when Dong Han had first told her about their deaths. Ever since, she had vowed to herself and to them that she would reclaim the crown for them.
Earlier that day, Olympia had discovered an abandoned campsite not far from the town where she and Bjorn had met up again. She hadn’t thought it wise to remain there, not knowing that others knew about the Li princess.
Her heart full of sorrow, she headed over to the bucket of water the previous occupants had left behind. Her reflection stared up at her, but she did not drink.
How long until Bjorn would come back to her? Would he succeed and locate her brother? Or would he be discovered and imprisoned? Even all the way in Xalac, Olympia had heard about the executions Rosalynne had witnessed in her father’s name.
But the question on the forefront of her mind was this—had Olympia been a fool to trust him?
57
Advisor Aldus Perez
It had been a long while since Aldus had left the castle walls entirely. Whenever he had need of anything, he merely had a servant go and fetch for him. The castle was his domain.
Never had he been happier that he had not relied on a man, a prison in fact, to go and deliver the message to the Vincanan prince. His mind had played a curious trick on him last night. He had had a dream almost, a vision perhaps, in which he had sent the man after all. He’d thought himself foolish for having done so, and he tried to use his magic to locate the man through the same magic he had used to see the face of the Li princess. And he somehow discovered him asleep near a fire that barely burned.
Even more important than discovering the man’s location, Aldus had seen the sealed parchment in the man’s belt.
And then, with every ounce of magic within him, in this strange vision or dream, Aldus attempted to will, to move, to push the parchment, to free it from the man’s belt.
And the parchment shifted slightly and then rolled off the body and onto the grass. From there, Aldus struggled but managed to roll it all the way into the fire.
When Aldus woke, he removed the parchment from within his clothes and laid it on his pillow. He stood and crossed over to his window, and then he did as he had in the vision.
And the parchment rolled.
Next, Aldus attempted to get the parchment to come to him. It rolled a bit toward him, this way and that, a bit of a zigzag, and he grew tired, but eventually, the parchment hit his foot.
He bent to grab it, and then he sought to levitate the scroll.
That proved impossible, but perhaps with practice…
Aldus had every intention of practicing his magic.
For now, however, he had to worry about the upcoming meeting. Still, he was pleased with himself for not relying on such a far-fetched plan. Marcellus would take Aldus far more seriously if he were to seek him out himself, which was why Aldus would not send a messenger bird or the prisoner.
If things went well with the Vincanan women, Aldus might venture to find Marcellus before returning to the castle.
For now, he rode toward the Stokeford Swamp. Aldus knew how to ride, yes, but he was not the smoothest of riders, and his rump felt sore after the first hill.
Eventually, the swamp came into view, and Aldus grinned to himself. It was just as Donnchad Boyle had said.
“Well met!” Aldus cried as he rode right up to the first Vincanan woman. All of them were dressed in armor and were heavily armed, but Aldus showed no signs of fear.
“You should not be here,” one of the other females said. She held a spear, the tip pointing to the sky. Her grip was loose, but he knew her reflexes would be swift if she decided to do him harm.
“As you can plainly see, I am only one man,” he started.
“And there might be a fair number of others waiting just over that hill,” the same woman declared dryly. “We are not fools.”
“I did not think you are,” he assured them.
“Why are you here?” another woman asked, moving to stand beside the other speaker. “You are not dressed as that scout who spotted us.”
“I told you we should have killed him,” yet another said, this one marching over to the first speaker’s other side.
“We do not kill unless the dragons direct us to,” the first murmured softly, perhaps thinking Aldus would not overhear her.
The dragons. Female warriors.
These were not Vincanan warriors after all. These were the fabled Valkyries!
Aldus stumble
d down from his horse so quickly he almost fell, and he bowed deeply. “You are the Valkyries,” he said. “I have been looking for you!”
They glanced at each other but said nothing.
Aldus had been testing the limits of his magic ever since he first realized he had somehow acquired it. He had been unsuccessful at replicating seeing the Li princess. After seeing the prisoner he had freed, Aldus had tried repeatedly to learn where exactly the Li princess was, whether the rumors of her moving toward Atlan were true or not, if she were had already arrived in the city. Alas, he could not locate her no matter what he tried.
Just earlier that day, however, when he had paused to eat a bite, he had attempted something new, something he strove to do now.
Aldus marched over to the nearest tree, one of the only trees to grow so close to the swamp. He plucked a leaf from the tree and jerked in surprise as he felt a flash of pain that must have come from the tree.
Interesting.
Aldus held up the leaf for the Valkyries to see, and then he concentrated hard until his hand began to glow a slightly purple hue. That coloring transferred over to the leaf, and he used his magic to manipulate the leaf, to cause it to lift up higher than his head and then to twirl around, go in a circle around the trio of Valkyries, and then come to meet him as he approached his horse once more, the leaf falling down into his hands.
“The dragons have seen fit to grant me magic,” Aldus said boldly. “You can trust me as they trust me, and—”
“I am Horatia,” the first speaker said. “And you are?”
He grinned and bowed to her. “Well met, Horatia. I am Aldus—”
“You may leave now, Aldus.”
Aldus continued to grin. “Very well. Go and ask the dragons about me. You will see that they have chosen me for some purpose. I seek to know what it is so that I might serve them. If you could assist me in this matter, I would be most appreciative.”
He bowed again, several times. From where he stood, he could see a dozen of the Valkyries, but he suspected they were not all here before him, their number a secret withheld from him. Very well. All had gone well here, and Aldus would head back to the castle for now. The Valkyries working for the dragons and not for the kingdom from which they hailed was a most intriguing tidbit of information. While he still wished to forge an alliance with Marcellus if he could, that could wait. For now, a new plan was coming to him, one that necessitated his prompt return to the castle. It did not do for him to be at odds with the queen. Sabine still turned to him, but she no longer wore a crown. Rosalynne needed to realize she had few allies, fewer even than she realized, and a subtle hint about the vicar was not nearly enough. No, this threat would have to be much more pointed.
For a few hours, Aldus traveled across Tenoch, trying to find the Vincanans. If he did not seek them out soon, he would return to the castle, but then he spotted one, a guard he supposed, who was in the middle of relieving himself.
He waited until the guard was done to clear his throat, although the guard should have heard his horse’s approach.
“I appreciate you not killing me… You aren’t Prisca.”
“No. I have a message for the prince.”
“For the prince?” the Vincanan guard said slowly, lifting his eyebrows. “Not for the king?”
“For the… Marcellus.”
Aldus bowed as much as he could while on horseback.
“You will address the prince with his title,” the guard snapped, reaching for his sword.
“It is all right, Blandus. I know this man, and as you can clearly see, he is unarmed,” Marcellus said. “Why have you come?”
“I bear a missive.” Aldus grinned. He was never truly unarmed, although he did not prefer to use sharp weapons, relying on his sharp wits and his sharper tongue instead.
“From the queen?” Marcellus asked, his face a mask, his words emotionless.
Aldus remained bowed as he handed the missive directly to Marcellus. The prince eyed the seal and glanced up warily at Aldus.
Ah, so he knew enough to realize it was not the seal of Tenoch, Rivera, or Grantham. Aldus nodded to the prince and then the guard before turning his horse around. He hoped the prince would read the missive but to know the king was here on Tenoch soil did not bear well for Aldus’ plans. Still, he would do what he could to find himself in a favorable light with as many as possible. That was the advice he constantly gave himself, and Aldus thought he gave excellent advice indeed.
58
Olympia Li
The night was peaceful, and Olympia felt no fear, none at all. Still, sleep would not come to her. Deep within herself, she felt drawn to the dragons, and she found herself watching the skies, trying to see if she could possibly catch a glimpse of one.
A part of her wanted to seek them out, but she did not. Running off to find them was a ridiculous notion. Besides, Bjorn would return eventually, and he had to be able to locate her. Mayhap he would not be alone. Maybe he would bring her brother with him.
What if he brought along a dark-haired man who was not truly her brother? What if he revealed her most closely guarded secret to a stranger who did not share her blood?
All at once, the night no longer seemed quite so peaceful.
Nor was she alone. She remained at that abandoned encampment she’d found earlier, but perhaps it had not been abandoned after all as three figures headed toward her.
She sat up from where she had been lying down. “I did not mean to take your place,” she murmured. “I can go.”
“Do you have any food?” the small boy asked. “Any at all?”
Olympia glanced from him to the others. The taller two, from a distance, she assumed had been parents to the child, but no, they were merely taller children, perhaps twelve and ten compared to the boy’s five or six. The girl was the twelve year old, taller than the ten-year-old boy.
All three of them were scrawny and dirty. Their clothes fit well enough, she supposed, but they seemed so very worn.
“I don’t have much,” Olympia murmured, “but you can have it.”
The two boys almost leaped forward to grab at her offerings, the rest of the meat from the hare she’d caught earlier, but the girl hung back.
“You can have some,” Olympia said, glaring at the boys.
Sheepishly, they offered her some.
“We should maybe save some,” she murmured, holding her arm, not as if she were injured. More like she wished to hold herself back.
“I can try to find another tomorrow,” Olympia assured her. “Eat. Please.”
Olympia’s heart almost broke as the girl did not decline the meat again and instead shoved it all into her mouth. Olympia hadn’t started a fire before, but she did now, and she quickly learned that the girl and the younger boy were siblings. The other boy was a friend.
“Our fathers went to the castle to fight,” the girl said.
“My mom watched over us,” the boy without a sibling said.
“But his mom got sick,” the younger boy said.
The older boy nodded. “She died a fortnight ago,” he mumbled.
“No, it was twelve… You’re right,” the girl murmured. “Time is going by so fast.”
“Day after day, always the same. Trying to find more food.”
“Why did you leave your town?” Olympia asked, horrified for them.
“We’re trying to head to Atlan,” the girl said. “My aunt lives there. Maybe she can take us in.”
“If she even recognizes us,” her brother said. “You’re wearing so much dirt that your hair looks brown!”
In the darkness, Olympia had thought the girl a brunette. Was her brother jesting, or was her hair truly a different shade?
“Why don’t you stick around with me a few days?” Olympia suggested. “I can teach you how to hunt, get you all some food, and you can go on your way. From here, Atlan is due north. Just head north—”
“That way?” the younger boy asked.
“No
.” She directed his arm so he pointed northward.
“You want to stay, Mochan? Bradan?” the girl asked the boys.
They nodded eagerly.
She turned to Olympia. “I’m Luigsech. We can’t thank you enough.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Olympia protested. “I haven’t done anything.”
“You’ve given us hope,” Luigsech countered. “We had just about lost faith, and now…”
Mochan, the brother, had been leaning against Olympia. Now, he fell to the side, his head on her lap. A tiny snore came from him, and the others all laughed.
Once again, the night grew peaceful for Olympia. This was what true royalty was about—helping the least of your people.
59
Ulric Cooper
Gidie Leroux had been rather uncharacteristically quiet when Ulric approached him after allowing the rest of the members of Forbidden Doom to go and rest for a bit, to eat if they wished. He hadn’t said much at all when Ulric asked him what had happened.
Finally, Gidie had blurted out that a ball of light had hit him on the day the dragon died, and he hadn’t thought anything about it, that he had felt like he had been burned alive and then ice cold and then better than ever. Since he’d felt so well, he didn’t think about seeing a healer, and he almost forgot about all of that, but maybe…
That had been just yesterday. Gidie had refused to take part in any of the training today, but he sat close by and watched and listen to Ulric’s advice on the spears once more.
“Why aren’t you training?” Ulric asked Gidie the moment the others started to practice their spear work.