The Conspiracy of Magic

by Harriet Whitehorn

  Cass also couldn’t fail to notice all the soldiers. Almost every young man and woman, some no more than children, was dressed in the dark grey padded army coats, swords swinging by their sides.

  In the late afternoon the road began to twist steeply up and the air became clearer and thinner. Cass could feel her breath quicken. As the daylight ebbed away, she could see the crags and peaks of the mountains rising above them. They must be nearing Iz.

  The City of Iz lay in a bowl, cradled by mountain peaks on all sides. Its city walls rose up like sinister grey cliffs ahead of them. It was nearly dark as they approached and the city gates were shut for the night. But at the sight of Nym they swung open and the riders cantered in, barely breaking the horses’ stride.

  Inside the city the watchmen were lighting the coloured lanterns the city was famous for. But apart from them, the marble pavements were largely empty. There were none of the bustling night markets or overflowing inns that you would see in any other city in the Longest World in the evening.

  The Winter Palace lay right at the top of the city, its back to the mountains. It only took a few minutes to canter through the empty streets. A stream of servants greeted their arrival and if Cass had ever doubted Nym’s influence, these thoughts were banished by the bowing and scraping.

  “Where do you want her?” Zirt asked Nym, referring to Cass as if she were a trunk. “The prison quarters like the enforcers?”

  So that’s why Nym hadn’t been stopped, Cass grasped.

  “No, I think the Slit is better for her,” Nym replied.

  Zirt took her to a narrow slither of a room with a door at one end and a barred window at the other. He undid the ropes around her wrists and ungagged her.

  Cass immediately cried, “What am I doing here? Why have you taken me? Why won’t you tell me?”

  But he ignored her and slammed the thick timber door behind him. She heard him not only lock it with a key but pull across several bolts.

  Brushing away tears of frustration, Cass looked around her. She had to admit that although it was hardly luxurious, it wasn’t a dungeon either. There was glass in the window and a mattress on the floor with some bedding. A full pitcher of water, a washing bowl and a chamber pot were beside it. To Cass’s surprise and relief there were a couple of candles and a bundle of firewood in the tiny fireplace and a box of matches.

  As soon as Zirt had gone, Cass lit a candle and set about making a fire, which was soothing in itself, and soon orange flames were flickering over the wood. She sat down on the floor in front of it and tried to bring a bit of warmth back into her brain and body. Then, without warning, a hatch at the bottom of the door flew open and a tray was shoved through with a small loaf of bread and a bowl of stew on it. Cass, who was starving, fell on the food, wolfing it down in seconds. Feeling slightly more human, but more tired than ever, she got on to the mattress and wrapped herself up in the thin blankets. Why am I here? she wondered for the umpteenth time, before she fell into a long and dreamless sleep.

  Three guards accompanied Cass along the panelled corridors and narrow staircases of the Winter Palace as they took her to see Nym. One walked ahead while the other two took an arm each, one holding a knife to her ribs. If the servants they met in the corridors were surprised they hid it well.

  It was clearly not the moment to try and escape, so Cass used her eyes well, studying the guards, working out how many weapons they had and considering how well trained they were likely to be. She looked all around her at the palace, not to admire the beautiful paintings of flowers and animals that covered the walls, but trying to glean as much about its layout as possible.

  Nym’s chambers were high up in a tower near the building’s centre. The guards showed Cass into an octagonal room that resembled a library, lined with shelves of books and a high-domed ceiling. They left her, shutting the door behind them. There was a long marble table in the centre piled high with notebooks and stacks of paper and scrolls with scrawls and diagrams on them. Large windows looked out over the gardens at the back of the palace and the mountains beyond. A huge fire burned in the grate, making the room almost unbearably hot.

  There was no sign of Nym so Cass wandered over to the bookshelves. She was just perusing the books, which were all about magic, when there was a rustling noise above her. She looked up and gave a start, for there, sitting on a cornice, was a small bright blue bird – a woodland warbler. In a horrible moment of realization, Cass understood that the bird they had thought of as lucky on the journey had in fact been Nym, following them.

  The bird flew down and landed softly on the ground where, sure enough, it turned into the magician. She smirked at Cass, delighted by her own cleverness.

  “Did you sleep well, Cassandra? Are your quarters comfortable?” she mocked.

  “Yes, thank you,” Cass replied briskly. “Now, will you please tell me what I’m doing here?”

  “I will, but first I want to know how my dear sister is?”

  “She’s very well. Still the best fortune teller and trancer in Minaris, if that’s what you mean?” Cass replied.

  Nym broke out into peals of laughter and a self-satisfied smile lit up her face. “Still practising her tiny magic then,” she said disdainfully.

  There was a pause before Cass said, “So are you going to tell me what I’m doing here?”

  “I don’t see the harm. You are here, Cassandra, to stop you meddling when things begin.”

  Cass didn’t understand what she meant. “What things?” she asked.

  “One of the most important lessons in life is to learn from history – your own and other people’s,” Nym replied. “As you will know the last Magical Wars were lost largely because of the obtuses. The next one won’t be.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Cass spluttered. “You’re not really going to try to start another Magical War. Look at all the bloodshed, all the lives of ordinary people that were lost.”

  Nym shrugged. “There are always casualties in such things. I only intend to help Queen Vegna take back what is rightfully hers.”

  It took Cass a moment to comprehend what she was talking about. “Metrete?” she said. “You are going to try to reclaim Metrete. It will never happen, Nym. The Bundish and the Magical Enforcers won’t let it.”

  “Oh, really?” Nym smirked. “The Veraklian army is every bit as good as the Bundish and I think you’ll find that the only decent Magical Enforcers are either imprisoned here or in the Far Lands, thanks to the little disruption my friend Quin is creating there.”

  That’s true, Cass acknowledged with great irritation but she was careful not to show it on her face.

  Nym flashed her a self-satisfied smile, adding, “Come the spring, Metrete will be ours again.”

  “But I’m not the only obtuse,” Cass pointed out.

  “Obviously not,” Nym replied. “And it has taken me a while and a lot of effort to find you all but I think I’ve managed it now. There is just one young man left in the Far Lands, and an elderly woman in one of the remoter Mid Isles, but I am expecting word any day that they have been dealt with. I have to say, Cassandra, that you have been the most difficult though, since you’ve become rather good at fighting. Still it’s been good for Zirt to be put through his paces.”

  “Now you have me, what are you going to do with me?” Cass asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

  “You know what, I haven’t quite decided,” Nym replied. “But I’ll let you know when I do.”

  At that moment, there was a kerfuffle outside the door and it sprung open. A woman appeared who Cass realized was Queen Vegna. She curtsied as best she could while Nym gave a low bow.

  The queen was tall and very slender. She had red hair threaded with grey, pinned back by jewelled hairslides. Her face was pinched and tired with violet shadows under her fine green eyes. Her long elegant fingers flashed with heavy rings, but when you looked closely you could see that the nails were bitten down and the skin around her thumbs had b
een chewed until it was red and raw. Cass could also see that her hands trembled slightly. However, Vegna held herself like a queen, and when she looked at Cass it was with a queen’s imperious gaze.

  “So, this is Cassandra,” she said, examining Cass closely. She had the low gravelly voice of someone who smoked too many cigarillos. “You are only a slip of a thing. I am amazed that you managed to kill the pirate Varen – there must be more to you than meets the eye.”

  “Cass is skilled with a sword,” Nym said with a slight edge to her voice.

  Vegna looked thoughtful. “Well, Cassandra, I have business to discuss with Nym.” Before Cass could say anything else, Vegna had signalled to the guards and Cass was removed and found herself back in the Slit.

  Another Magical War. The thought of it horrified Cass. The Bundish must be warned… But by whom? It wasn’t as if she could just send a bird to King Hoff. She could only hope that Idaliz had found out and managed to get out of Veraklia and report back to Lycus.

  The days passed and at first all Cass thought about was escape. But after a while, she had to admit that none was possible unless an unexpected opportunity presented itself. The door was entirely solid and locked, the food hatch much too small for her to get through, the window was barred and she had no handy file to saw through them. She had nothing at all that could help her.

  Winter deepened and the castle was busy with preparations for the Mid-Winter Feast. I should be back in Minaris, Cass thought with sad desperation. I should be celebrating with Tig, Lin, Mrs Potts and Idaliz, eating snowberry cake and cheering on Dacha’s brother in the Ice Race. But for Cass there was nothing to celebrate.

  She would look back on the weeks that followed as one of the toughest times of her life. It wasn’t so much the physical hardship, although she was starving and cold much of the time. No, what was really horrendous was the isolation. Her meagre amount of food and firewood was delivered through a hatch, as were clean chamber pots and water. Her only contact with people was the muffled footsteps and voices she heard through her door and the figures she could see from her window. She became obsessed with both.

  She listened to the footsteps outside her door and became able to differentiate between the heavy tread of the guards’ boots and the lighter ones of the servants. She worked out the times of the patrols and this was how she measured out her days and nights, along with the marks she scratched on the wooden frame of the bed.

  The window had a sill just deep enough to sit on and Cass would fold her limbs up and stay there until her legs were screaming with cramp. It looked out over one of the palace’s internal courtyards, and she scanned every figure who walked across it, desperately hoping, by some miracle, to see Idaliz. For, Cass reasoned, her friend just might have got a job in the castle to spy on Vegna. But Cass never saw her. She did however get to know the faces of all the servants and courtiers who walked across the square of cobbles, and their routines. She played games with herself about their lives to try and keep her brain amused.

  At first Cass practised her physical exercises, keeping herself strong and ready for escape, but she soon found that they gave her so little food that she lacked the energy for them. She had never realized before how quickly you can lose weight and after a couple of weeks her clothes hung off her. It was entirely miserable and it took every inch of Cass’s will to stop herself from sinking into a deep depression.

  And then after six weeks or so – forty-five days to be precise – something happened. Cass was staring out of the window as usual when she saw a familiar figure sauntering across the courtyard, hands shoved in his pockets. Dacha. He was wearing the palace servants’ livery but it was unmistakably him. Her heart beating with shock, Cass shouted his name and banged on the window but he didn’t appear to hear her and disappeared into the palace. Cass could have wept with frustration. She scanned the courtyard until it was dark but she didn’t see him again. He must be here for me, she thought to herself. He must have come to help me. Someone must have guessed what had happened – Lin perhaps. But how in the Longest World would he get her out of there?

  Late that night, as Cass lay in bed somewhere between sleeping and wakefulness, she heard a noise and something was pushed through the hatch in her door. A cheese pie and a note. It said just two words, written one above the other, Silence and Patience.

  Easy for you to say, she thought with a ghost of a smile as she devoured the pie.

  Every day Dacha pushed extra firewood and food through the hatch and Cass began to feel better, mentally and physically. The extra food meant that she could start exercising again and the daily deliveries gave her some hope. She occasionally saw him walking across the courtyard. She stopped herself banging on the glass, but the tiny movement of his head towards her told Cass that he saw her.

  However, Cass was also aware that time was marching along. From the notches on her bed frame she counted that she had been there for two and a half months. It was still deepest winter in the mountains but down in Minaris and Bunderland the fierce cold would be loosening its grip and the first signs of spring would be arriving. Nym had said that Vegna would invade in the spring – it could not be far off. I must try and tell Dacha, she decided desperately. He must take word to King Hoff.

  But that night he left her a note, saying, We go the next night it snows heavily.

  Cass’s heart gave a leap of joy. Dacha must have found a way to escape. She could hardly believe it.

  It was only a couple of days later when it began to snow in the early evening. An hour had passed when the hatch in her door opened and a pair of sturdy boots and a dagger were shoved in, along with a note. Midnight – be ready. Cass felt her spirits soar.

  Dacha was late. So late that Cass had given up on him coming and was lying back on her bed, dozing in her furs and boots. He slipped quietly into her room. She sat bolt upright, instantly awake and slightly taken aback by his actual presence. She hadn’t been so close to another human in over two months. When he hugged her, saying in a whisper, “Where have you gone? There’s nothing to you!” Cass couldn’t stop herself breaking down into sobs.

  “Shh,” he said kindly. “You must be quiet, Cass, or we’ll be killed before we’ve even got out of this room.”

  “Sorry,” Cass said, wiping away her tears. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I didn’t for sure until you banged on the window,” he replied. “Lycus sent me – he talked to a friend of yours who, after hearing Arden’s story, thought you must be here. Arden and I both knew that we had been bewitched that night.”

  It must have been Lin, Cass thought and she sent her silent thanks. “Does Lycus also know that Nym and Vegna are planning to invade Metrete? They mean to start another Magical War.”

  “What?” Dacha exploded, but then quickly said, “We’ll have to talk about this later. If we are to go we must leave now before the next lot of guards either notice that the key is missing from their guards’ room or pass the door and see it’s unbolted. Do you have the dagger?”

  Cass nodded.

  “Excellent. I think it’s safe to assume that we’ll both have to do some fighting. We are going to escape via the garden at the rear of the palace.” Cass remembered seeing the garden from Nym’s room. “There’s a door there that gives straight out on to the mountains. Then we need to get ourselves to the woods, where I’ve hidden some packs and equipment for us. The door is guarded – but only by a couple of palace guards who I’m hoping won’t prove too much for you and me. Is that all right?”

  “Well, I would prefer to leave in a carriage sledge pulled by white horses,” Cass joked. “But under the circumstances I can put up with it.”

  Dacha gave a snort of laughter.

  “Thank you, by the way,” Cass said. “For coming to get me, I mean.”

  “Don’t say that yet,” he replied. “Wait until we are safely out of here. Come, we must go.”

  I’d rather die trying to escape than be buried alive here, Cass thought,
as she followed him out of the door.

  The palace was as quiet as you would expect at three in the morning, with only the patrolling guards and a few night servants around. Dacha had picked a route that took them down the least-used corridors and staircases and luck was on their side. They reached the door to the garden meeting no one.

  The garden stretched along the back of the entire length of the palace and lots of the rooms, like Nym’s, had views over it. On the other side of the garden were the stables, dog kennels and some servants’ quarters. A cloister ran around its perimeter. This would give them some protection from anyone looking out of their window, but it was patrolled by guards. The mountain door was at the far end of the cloister.

  The doorway to the garden was set into a deep arch and Cass and Dacha hid in its darkness until the guards walked past, swinging their lanterns to and fro. Keeping a discreet distance, Cass and Dacha followed them. But they had only gone a little way before they froze.

  “Good evening, sire,” the guards said to someone ahead. Cass and Dacha looked around for a place to hide but there was nowhere, and besides, whoever was ahead would probably have seen them. Thinking fast, Dacha slung his arm around Cass, pulling her slightly towards him, and started whispering in her ear, as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Cass played the part well, giggling and smiling at him.

  “Dacha,” a voice said. Cass looked at the man who had greeted him. His expression was one of surprise and anger, and he looked at Cass with distaste.

  “Master Ven,” Dacha said, immediately letting go of Cass and bowing low.

  “What in the Longest World are you doing?” the man spluttered.

  Dacha stared at the floor, looking embarrassed. “I was just giving my new friend a tour of the palace,” he said, stumbling a little over his words as if he were drunk.

  “Is that so?” Master Ven answered, looking at them. “As I’m sure you would be aware if you were sober, such things are strictly forbidden. Come and see me first thing in the morning. Guards!” he called. “Please escort this young man and his friend back to the servants’ quarters.”