by Vela Roth
But if she believed the truth, that he was using his magic on her behalf, she would realize he had the power to keep her safe.
Lives now depended on Cassia’s willingness to stake hers on Lio’s power. He had to take the risk and confess the true extent of his power. He must have faith in her courage and the strength of the Oath they had forged together, if he wanted her to have faith in him.
“Cassia, I’m powerful enough to make sure six elder Hesperines don’t know the herbs are gone.”
She drew a breath, her mouth curling in one of her sarcastic expressions. He expected a dismissive remark, but it never came. She considered him.
“Do Tenebrans truly doubt the existence of the Mage King and the Changing Queen?” he asked.
“Such heroic figures make for good stories around the hearth fire, but don’t seem very real when your belly is empty. They do seem very convenient for living kings who need a precedent to justify royal authority.”
“I can assure you the Mage King and the Changing Queen were real, and they would be ashamed of Lucis. As you know, I’m too young to have known them, but I grew up listening to my father’s stories of when he met them during the Last War.”
Her lips parted.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “Uncle Argyros negotiated at the very first Equinox Summit. Hence the Queens have sent him to reaffirm the Oath ever since.”
She blinked, then shook her head. “Well, your aunt is the Guardian of Orthros. Why shouldn’t your uncle be Silvertongue? Just don’t tell the minstrels two of their favorite villains are a pair. The resulting compositions would not help the diplomatic situation.”
“I’ll be sure to keep it to myself. Unlike Aunt Lyta, Uncle Argyros isn’t terribly fond of being a ballad sung to give folk a scare on a winter night.”
“You need not defend him to me. I would never believe your uncle used thelemancy on the Mage King to trick him into letting your people escape.”
Lio smiled. “Indeed, there was no bewitchment involved, only some of the most brilliant negotiations in history, from both sides.”
“So tell me, who is your father?”
Lio laughed. “Not a diplomat. He has a reputation for being quite…passionate…in all that he does.”
Cassia crossed her arms. “You take after him.”
Lio sat back. “Do you really think so?”
“You’re much too passionate to be a diplomat.”
Perhaps she was right, but he smiled at her. “Everyone tells me I am conscientious and well-behaved.”
Now Cassia snorted.
He grinned. If such an expert judge of character said he was more like his father than he thought, he felt inclined to believe her.
“Your father is a great deal older than your mother,” Cassia observed.
“A winter romance, to be sure.”
Cassia’s brows lifted, but if she was filling in the blanks about his passionate father’s long years unattached, she did not say. “Your uncle is much older than you.”
“But it is not my uncle who is steward of the medicines we brought. That cargo is Javed’s responsibility.”
“You said Arkadia gave him the Gift,” Cassia reminded him. “She’s only three hundred and eighty-six, but she is Argyros’s daughter. Doesn’t the power run in the entire bloodline?”
“Kadi and Javed are indeed heirs to Uncle Argyros’s power. But my uncle is my father’s younger brother. That was true even before they were Hesperines, but most significantly, my father received the Gift first. Uncle Argyros is vastly older than me, but not older than the blood that made me what I am. My father has nurtured my mother and me on his blood for almost ninety years. I’m still learning what to do with it all, but I have a great deal of power.”
Cassia looked at him as if she weren’t sure what to make of him.
As if he fascinated her.
Just like the first time she’d seen him, she was not afraid.
Lio took a deep breath. “Besides, I have a dual affinity.”
She put a hand to her chin. “Let me think. That must mean you are adept at two arcane paths.”
“You are a quick study.”
“Bloodborn on the Winter Solstice under two full moons and possessed of a dual affinity? How unfortunate for you.”
“I’m afraid so. In any case, my uncle is not only my mentor in my service, but also in one of my arcane paths. He has devoted decades to bringing me to the level of his skill. He tells me he has never taught anyone with quite this much magic, except his own daughter Nike, my eldest cousin.” Lio glanced down at his hands. No, he should watch Cassia’s reaction. He looked up at her, hoping this would not be the moment he finally saw fear in her eyes for the first time. He cleared his throat. “I’m one of the three most powerful mind mages in Hesperine history.”
Lio listened to Cassia’s heart thump in her chest, and then he heard her laugh.
That sounded nothing like the first time she had pretended to laugh, nor even like the winsome chuckle that had emerged from her when they had first laughed together. This sound was bright. Defiant. Free.
She was standing in the dark with a mage of the night who could rob her of her Will, and she knew it, and she felt safe.
“I’m glad you’re on my side,” said Cassia.
Lio had thought he put her off balance. But those words coming from her made his world shift. This was more than a success. It was a gift. Cassia had not simply deemed his magic to her advantage.
She had decided Lio was on her side.
“I am at your service,” Lio pledged.
“I will speak with the Prisma tomorrow, and we shall see what she makes of our plan.”
25
Days Until
SPRING EQUINOX
Intermediary
“Surely there are alternatives we might pursue.” As Cassia said the words, she wondered when she and the mages of Kyria had become we.
“Your determination to help does you credit.” The Prisma’s sigh betrayed how tired she was. She sank into her chair beside the altar. “But when you are my age, you will understand there comes a moment when you must acknowledge all the alternatives are exhausted and it is time to admit defeat.”
How strange for anyone to tell Cassia she was the one who did not know when to give up.
The Prisma’s hand tightened on the altar, as if what she really wanted to do was lift that hand and slam it down. “I fail to see how the Hesperines can grow anything in that wasteland of theirs. Did you know Orthros is covered in constant night for most of every winter? The sun doesn’t even make it above the horizon. How do plants thrive when they are trapped in darkness?”
A strange and powerful image came to Cassia’s mind. A mere fantasy of Lio’s world, surely. But it struck her powerfully.
An endless wood in an endless night. No glimpse of the sun, just moonlight that never faded. Living, growing things thriving in the shelter of that darkness, nurtured by a white glow like Lio’s spell light.
“It is their magic,” Cassia said. “They can help things grow.”
“I ask my goddess of life and harvest every day how such an irony is possible, that heretics can coax healing out of ice better than Kyria’s handmaidens can out of her own soil, and I still don’t have an answer. Frigid as Tenebra is, it isn’t cold enough for rimelace to thrive without the aid of magic. And our magic was not enough.” The Prisma rubbed her face in both hands.
Cassia shifted on her feet. They wanted to carry her to the door. But she stood riveted by the image of despair before her: this powerful woman slumped in a chair with her head in her hands.
Even as Cassia prepared her thoughts, she prepared a defense in case her own words turned on her. She supposed the Prisma’s vestibule, all things considered, was not the worst place to utter heresy. In her compassion, the mage might dismiss Cassia’s suggestion as the misguided notion of a young person desperate to help.
“There may still be a way.”
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br /> The Prisma lowered her hands and lifted her head, her eyelids drooping in exhaustion. “I wish there were, child.”
“I must beg your clemency before I speak further. If what I am about to say offends you or the goddess whose domain this is, let my words be forgotten…and forgiven…as if never uttered. I only wish to help.”
The mage’s brows lifted. “What could you have in mind?”
“The king will not accept the herbs. But you and your temple could.”
The Prisma blinked, then her gaze sharpened. Her keen mind was clearly working, racing through the possibilities. The consequences.
Cassia pressed on. Tightening the rope about her neck. When had she volunteered for that? “The king wishes to hear no more about rimelace. He assumes it will return to Orthros with the Hesperines. What matter if it happens to be left here at the temple instead?”
“He refused them,” the Prisma said. “Therefore they belong only to the Hesperines.”
“Yes.”
“But would they agree?”
“Yes.”
“How can you be sure?”
“The Summit has given me the opportunity to observe the embassy firsthand.”
“How much can anyone really observe about such creatures?”
“As much as she can observe about the king or the free lords after a lifetime of watching her back.”
At that the Prisma grimaced. “You do well to remind me. You are young only in years.”
The comment added fuel to Cassia’s words, and they became easier to say. “I am confident the embassy’s chief desire as far as the herbs are concerned is to extend the offer as a display of goodwill. Naturally, you and the mages would be able to tell if there were any insidious spells on them. Here in this sacred place, unholy magic would be revealed.” Silently Cassia apologized to Lio. But he was a diplomat. He knew one must often say words one found distasteful, for the greater good.
The greater good. Now those were words Cassia would have thought sounded more like Lio than her.
But the Prisma was shaking her head. “This is madness.”
See there. Cassia was not the only one who thought so.
“There are too many obstacles,” the Prisma lamented. “Too much risk. I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”
Was Cassia losing ground? “Surely the goddess would want us to prevent suffering above all. Surely that makes this…not wrong.”
“It’s not our consciences we need to convince, child. It’s the king and the heretics I’m worried about.”
“We have satisfied ourselves the king has no cause for ire, and he will not under any circumstances learn of what goes on in Kyria’s domain. We also know the Hesperines will agree. What other obstacles could there be?”
The Prisma let out a breath that might have been a bitter laugh. “Aside from those small uncertainties? The little matter of how the daughters of Kyria are to have a conversation with an embassy of heretics staying in the capital, without offending the gods, the Orders or the king.”
“That is the least of our problems. I will act as intermediary.”
The Prisma stared at Cassia for a long moment. At last she rose from her chair and rested her hands on Cassia’s shoulders. “If you are willing to take on such a thing, who am I to refuse?”
Cassia lost an instant to her own surprise, too startled to speak.
The Prisma had known what she asked, when she requested Cassia first bring information to her about the rimelace. She, who brought people out of danger for a living rather than thrusting them into it, had asked anyway.
And was accepting now.
“I can see how necessary this is,” Cassia said. “I know you would not have asked in the first place, unless the need was dire.”
“I will not deny it. But I will thank you, and I will pray for you and commend you to the goddess. This won’t be easy.” She patted Cassia’s shoulder. “Saving lives seldom is.”
24
Days Until
SPRING EQUINOX
Sacred Ruins
Lio observed Cassia as she lowered her nose to the bundle of rimelace he held for her. She drew a deep breath, then exhaled, bringing her scent to him mingled with the fragrance of the plants. The combination took him aback and uncoiled a new longing inside him, a blend of frustration and homesickness.
“What do they smell like to you?” he asked.
She glanced up from the herbs, her brow furrowed. “Like a winter snow and a spring morning at the same time. Impossible.”
“They smell like Orthros,” he said in agreement.
“I’ve never seen rimelace of this quality! How do you preserve them in such a perfect state?” She studied the herbs in the glow of his spell light. With a gentle touch, she fingered the array of tiny, fragile white petals on one flower. “They’re bursting with blooms. See what a pale green the stems are and how the leaves are edged in white? Those are sure signs your people harvested these at their peak. Even the roots are intact. With all the parts of the plant, we can do great things. And you’ve brought so much.” She stared again at the basket by Lio’s knee. “You could carry Knight in that.”
“I’m sincerely glad no one’s life depends on me doing that.”
“If you weren’t an illusionist and a mind mage, I would wonder how you ever managed to sneak something that large out of your quarters after tonight’s Summit, right under six elder Hesperines’ noses.”
“Light and mind magic used together do produce the most convincing results. When I returned to the fortress last night, after you told me the Prisma agreed and we finalized our plan, I seized an opportunity when Javed and Kadi were in the common room with my aunt and uncle. I relocated the basket of rimelace to my room and left an illusory decoy in its place. A very believable one, rest assured. When I departed for a drink tonight, no one knew I took the real basket with me.”
“I see now why you were not in favor of my plan to take the herbs to the Prisma myself.” Cassia hesitated. “There are many reasons why it would have been a challenge for me to manage this alone.”
Lio knew what an admission that was, coming from her. Now was not the time to point out that in addition to crafting illusions, carrying the heavy load was no trouble for him as a Hesperine, even if he was far from being an athlete of Mak and Lyros’s prowess. “I think it proper for me to carry the basket, as it is my people’s gift to the temple.” Lio returned the bundle of rimelace to the pile in the basket, then took the small canvas healer’s satchel from his shoulder and handed it to Cassia. “However, I would like you to present this to the Prisma, if you would.”
When she opened the flap, she sucked in a breath. “Seeds.”
“So the mages of Kyria can begin cultivating their own from our stock. If they’re willing. I can’t promise it will grow as it does in Orthros, but it should have a much better chance of survival than any rimelace from Tenebran seeds.”
“I didn’t realize…this is…it will make a real difference.”
“I’m grateful you think it is enough.”
“It is, Lio. It is enough.” She closed the satchel with careful hands and gazed at the invaluable cargo, not meeting his eyes. “Thank you.”
The notion overtook Lio to lift his hands and wrap them around hers where she held the satchel. His wiser self mounted resistance, and she put the bag on her shoulder with her gardening satchel before he had time to resolve the argument.
He heard her take another breath, as if to brace herself. “I suppose we’re ready to go.”
“Now all we need is a starting point that has its own magical aura to disguise our departure.” He nodded toward the fountain. “This does hold considerable power, but I know of an even better place.”
Cassia frowned at the Font of the Changing Queen. “It feels no different from the palace to me.”
“Naturally. You can feel the magical history of the Tenebrae everywhere, especially the ancient history from the time before
the Orders established their laws to restrict magic use.”
At his use of the kingdom’s traitorous name, she gave him a sly glance. “The artifacts from the Mage King’s time are powerful, then, as legends say?”
“If the fountain feels to you as the palace does, you do not need to ask me that question.”
Cassia shrugged. “They don’t raise the hair on my arms like Amachos’s finger twiddling. They feel…full. Like rain clouds.”
Now that was a revealing observation indeed. Lio refrained from comment only because he sensed Cassia’s tension mounting. She turned her face away and glanced into the trees. Worried about what they dared to do tonight? How far they dared go?
“I can assure you, nothing in the deeper woods will trouble us,” Lio said.
“Of course. Knight is more than a match for a few wolves.”
Lio exchanged a look with Knight, his forlorn, the dog’s satisfied.
“Besides,” Cassia added, “if they’re anything like the deer, Knight won’t have to bestir himself. You will have the predators eating out of your hand.”
Lio smiled at her. She looked away quickly, but he did not miss the change in her pulse, the new flavor in her scent. Just like the night of the festival, when she could not seem to stop looking at him across the crowded great hall.
He took a step closer. “I promise I’ll keep you safe, Cassia. Tonight it is my turn to protect you.”
“Well then, champion,” she said lightly, “let’s see this place you’ve chosen for our magical concealment.” She strode away from him and past the fountain.
Lio paused to secure the cover over the basket and hoist the load onto his back. He and his spell light caught up with Cassia and entered the woods at her side. “It is an astonishing find. I could scarcely believe my senses when I first happened on it.”
“Now I am curious.”
“It would be wise to stay close to me. With the Light Moon veiled tonight, we must rely on my magic to light the path.” With his free hand, he gestured upward, where the Goddess’s white eye was an imprint of light on the sky. The circle glowed softly as if hidden behind her eyelid, but too bright to be truly concealed. The Blood Moon, nearing fullness, cast a reddish aura over the trees.