The Conspiracy of Magic

by Harriet Whitehorn

  Then abruptly they came to a stop and a voice next to her said, “You have to climb a ladder now. Here’s the first rung,” and her hands were placed on a wooden rung.

  Cass did as she was told and climbed up about three metres of ladder. She was then grabbed by two sets of arms and lifted on to something. Am I in a tree house? she wondered but when she walked, the ground beneath her felt too solid – more like stone. She was led on and up another ladder, and then quite suddenly the air became much warmer and she heard the crackling noise of a fire. She was stopped by whoever was leading her and her blindfold and gag were removed, although her hands remained bound.

  Cass found herself standing next to Dacha beside a fire pit in a large cave. It was decorated like a normal room with tables and chairs and rugs but the walls were covered in ancient-looking paintings of stick men and animals that drew Cass’s eye like a magnet. She had to tear herself away from them to focus on the two men on the other side of the room. They were having a whispered conversation. It ended and one man went and stood by the cave’s entrance while the other came forwards saying, “Welcome.”

  He was in his sixties, Cass estimated, but he held himself with the strength and vigour of a younger man. His face was very lined but his hair was still thick and more red than white, and he regarded her and Dacha with a curious, intelligent gaze. Dacha shifted slightly next to Cass, giving her the impression that he knew the man.

  “Is it true that you two escaped from the palace?” he asked. “That is quite an achievement.”

  “It is true,” Cass replied. “I was a prisoner there and my friend helped me escape.”

  “So that is why the mountains are crawling with soldiers. You are obviously very precious,” he said, looking at Cass with interest. “Why was Vegna holding you prisoner?”

  “Because I’m an obtuse,” Cass answered.

  The man raised his eyebrows and then thought for a moment. “Of course, you would be very dangerous for that witch, Nym.” He said the name with disgust.

  “And you,” he turned to Dacha. “Did you just happen to be there?”

  “Something like that, sire,” Dacha replied with a polite smile.

  “You recognize me do you, young man?”

  “I do, Sir Drex. But like everyone else, I thought you were in the Islands.”

  The man smiled. “That sounds a good deal warmer. No, I could not leave Veraklia. I have stayed with my band of loyal supporters and this way I can do something to ease the lives of those in the area suffering under the queen’s tyranny. Well, as you know about me, I think you can do me the courtesy of telling me a little about yourselves. You first, young man. What’s your name?”

  “It’s Dacha,” he replied.

  “A good Veraklian name,” he said with a smile. “So, Dacha, how did you come to help a Minarian girl escape from the Winter Palace?”

  Dacha hesitated. Sir Drex said, “As you know, Dacha, I am no friend of the queen’s so do not fear I will hand you over to her. But I have to know if I can trust you.”

  “You can trust me,” Dacha replied. “But I am part of the Queen’s Guard in Minaris and I was sent by Queen Arden and King Lycus to try to rescue Cass.”

  “I see,” he said, considering this. “You are from Minaris?”

  “Yes, my parents moved there when I was a baby,” Dacha replied.

  “As you know, historically I am no friend of King Lycus’s but he has been more than helpful to Princess Taryn. And certainly I don’t wish you any harm for working for him,” Sir Drex said and then turned to Cass. “Who are you, young lady, that you have such powerful friends?”

  “My name is Cass and I was working as a lady-in-waiting for the queen when Nym captured me.”

  Sir Drex nodded, satisfied with the answer. “I see,” he said. “Important enough to rescue but not important enough to start a war over. So how exactly did you escape?” he asked. “We both know that it is not an easy thing.”

  “I stole the key from the guards’ room and then we fought our way out,” Dacha replied.

  “We were lucky.”

  Sir Drex raised his eyebrows. “You were,” he said with a half-smile. She could see him weighing up in his mind whether to question them more, and deciding not to. Instead he asked, “And where are you headed now? Are you hoping to cross the border somewhere?”

  “My plan was to cross at Harn – that’s where I came in. But there were too many soldiers to go that way so we have come south instead. We thought we might cross at Naz,” Dacha replied.

  “I’m afraid there’s no chance there at all. To be truthful it will be almost impossible anywhere. The borders are entirely closed and constantly patrolled by soldiers. Besides, Vegna’s spies are everywhere. Everyone is hungry and it takes a strong man or woman not to sell a secret.”

  “Sire, I feel we must tell you something,” Cass interjected. “Something that you may already know perhaps.”

  “Go on,” he said.

  “The queen and Nym are planning to invade Metrete. It is Nym’s intention to start another Magical War.”

  Sir Drex paused before answering. “I knew it was an ambition of Vegna’s so it doesn’t surprise me. And it makes sense of the massive barracks that she has constructed in Enzit. So you will warn the Bundish if you get across somehow?”

  “I cannot stand by and do nothing while Nym starts something that may cause the deaths of hundreds of people,” Cass said. “In the last Magical War, thousands died—”

  “I know, Cass, I remember,” he interrupted her.

  “Sorry, sire,” Cass said.

  A young man appeared with a tray of food that he put down on the table. “Let me think about all you have said. In the meantime, can I offer you something to eat?” Sir Drex asked.

  Cass and Dacha agreed and the young man took off the ropes around their wrists. They sat down as Sir Drex poured them each a glass of winter wine and served them a plate of lamb stew and noodles, which, remembering Dacha’s comment about the inn down the valley, made Cass smile to herself.

  Cass’s eyes were again drawn to the wall paintings. They were simple drawings, like a child’s, of animals and human figures, but they had a magic and beauty about them that Cass loved. “Sir Drex, please would you tell me who drew these paintings?”

  Sir Drex paused in his eating and looked at the walls around him, smiling slightly. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” he said. “I believe they were drawn more than a thousand years ago by the first Veraklians, who must have made their homes in these caves.”

  “Really?” Cass replied, her imagination caught. She tried to picture such people. “I wonder how they lived? What they wore?”

  “I cannot help you with any of that, I’m afraid, but what I can show is that, if you look over there, you will see those figures with wings. Even then we were obsessed with flying and the sky! Let me help you to some more stew.”

  After supper, Cass and Dacha were shown to a small room, or cave to be more accurate, with two beds and, tellingly, a guard stationed outside. Sir Drex clearly did not trust them entirely.

  “Do you think he will do anything to help us stop Vegna?” Cass asked Dacha as they were falling asleep.

  “I don’t know,” he replied truthfully.

  The pair were woken up in what they both guessed to be the early morning – it was hard to tell time in the cave – by a guard with some bread and tea, and told that Sir Drex wished to see them.

  “My guards have reported that there were soldiers in the valley overnight, presumably looking for you. They have moved on now – returning to the Falling Valley hopefully,” Sir Drex announced when they joined him.

  Cass and Dacha nodded in response, taking in what he said.

  “You are safe here,” he continued. “Which is why I was going to offer you the option of staying with us. I could always use good fighters and you can help me with my work, which is focused on easing the suffering of the everyday people and making life a little more
uncomfortable for Vegna.”

  It’s a good offer, Cass thought, a kind offer, and a sensible one for them to take. They could stay there hidden until Vegna invaded Metrete, and then perhaps with so many soldiers involved in that campaign, or the general chaos on that border, it would be easier to sneak across. Yet… Cass felt she must at least try to tell the Bundish of Vegna’s plans. And, more selfishly, she desperately wanted to go home. She glanced over to Dacha to see his reaction.

  “Why don’t I give you a few minutes to discuss it?” Sir Drex said and walked out of the room, leaving them alone.

  “What do you think?” Cass asked Dacha.

  “I think it would be the most sensible thing to do,” Dacha replied.

  Cass’s heart sank and it obviously showed on her face because Dacha said with a rueful smile, “But it’s not what you want to do, is it, Cass?”

  She sighed and shook her head. “You could stay,” she said. “And I will continue on my own.”

  “Of course I’m not going to let you do that,” he replied.

  “I’ll be fine,” Cass protested. “It’s easier for one person to slip through in some ways. I can look after myself.”

  Dacha ran his hands through his hair and said, “No, Cass, you are right – we must try to get word to the Bundish. Also Lycus sent me here to get you and bring you back to Minaris. Those were my orders so that is what I should do.”

  Sir Drex came back in. “So have you made a decision?”

  Cass spoke. “It is very kind of you, but we feel we should press on and try to cross the border.”

  Sir Drex smiled to himself. “I thought you would say that,” he replied. “And I admire you in some ways, although I think you are foolhardy. It will be very dangerous; Nym is a formidable enemy.”

  “I know,” Cass replied.

  “Well, if that’s what you want so be it,” Sir Drex said. “My offer stands if you change your minds and if not I wish you good luck.”

  “Thank you, sire,” they both replied.

  Cass and Dacha presumed the interview was over but then Sir Drex said, “I’ve got another idea. I had intended to send a couple of men down to Enzit today, as I have to get a message to a friend there.”

  Enzit, Cass knew vaguely, was a city to the south, at the head of the Lake of Forgiveness.

  “It is a long way by foot but by slip boat it is only three days’ journey. You are only twenty miles from the border there and you have as good a chance of getting across there as anywhere.”

  “But is the River Sken not still frozen?” Dacha asked.

  “No. Only yesterday, I sent my men down to the bottom of the valley where the river becomes navigable to check, and they said the ice had melted just enough to allow a slip boat down. So what if I were to lend you a couple of such boats and in return you would deliver a letter? Does that sound like a fair bargain to you?”

  Cass and Dacha exchanged glances and Cass replied, “It does.”

  “Good. A couple of my men will escort you down to the boats and give you instructions as to where to leave them.” He went over to a desk and picked up a letter in a sealed envelope.

  “Here it is,” he said, handing it to Cass. “Guard it well. The address to take it to is Number Seven, Street of Sails, not far from the lakefront. You must be sure to give it only into the hands of the mistress of the house, a woman named Masha.”

  Cass nodded and put the letter in the inside pocket of her coat. She and Dacha thanked Sir Drex.

  “Goodbye and good luck,” he replied. “May we meet in happier times.”

  Blindfolded again but this time with their hands free, Dacha and Cass were taken out, down the ladders, and into the fresh air. They were given their bags back and with someone leading them, they followed a path down the valley until they came to the river.

  They stopped and had their blindfolds removed, finding that they had left the Hidden Valley and had come down into a larger, wider valley with a river meandering through it. The water was still frozen at the edges but in the centre there was a channel of free-flowing water about a metre and a half across.

  They walked a little away along the riverbank until they came to a small wooden boat hut. The men accompanying them brought out two slip boats – light and narrow, carved from the trunk of a single tree. Cass had seen them before in the Islands but she had never been in one and eyed them nervously.

  The men set the boats down on the ground and one of them explained, “You need to be careful getting in as the ice near the channel will be thin, so I suggest you smash as much of it away as you can. I know the channel is narrow but it should be broad enough for you to manage and hopefully as you get lower down it will widen. The currents are strong in some places but they are good boats, I’m sure they will serve you well. But just a word of warning – if there is a sudden thaw up in the mountains then the river will quickly flood and be very dangerous. There is a tent in one of the canoes that you can use to camp, and here is some food.” He handed them a bag.

  “Thank you so much,” Cass said.

  “Thank you,” echoed Dacha. “Where should we leave the boats?”

  The other man spoke up. “When you get to the outskirts of Enzit there’s a boathouse on the left, painted red. It’s owned by a man named Bois. Leave the boats with him. Good luck.” Cass and Dacha thanked them profusely again and bid them farewell.

  When the men had gone they both looked at the slip boats and looked at each other. “Ever been in one of these?” Dacha asked Cass.

  “No,” Cass admitted.

  “Me neither,” he replied with a laugh. “But how hard can it be?”

  Cass looked at the boats. “Quite hard, I suspect.”

  They soon found that getting in the boats was tricky but after that it was relatively straightforward. Once Cass had got used to how low the boat sat in the water, and realized that it wasn’t about to tip her out into its freezing depths, she relaxed slightly. And after an hour or so she was actively enjoying floating down the icy blue water as it wound its way between the deserted, snowy mountains, putting a satisfying distance between them and Zirt and his soldiers. The boats slid gracefully but quickly downstream and they only needed to use their paddles occasionally for steering. The sun came out and for the first time in months Cass felt like she could breathe a little more freely.

  They came up to some rapids as the light was fading and as they had had to go through the palaver of taking the boats out of the water and carrying them down the steep path by the falls, they decided to make camp in the woods by the river then and there. They assembled the tiny tent and set about making a fire.

  “We’re twenty miles away from the soldiers,” Dacha pointed out. “Our chief dangers now are the cold and mountain wolves and bears, and the only protection against them is fire.”

  Could we really have outrun Zirt so easily? Cass wondered but she also knew that Dacha was right about the wild animals. They needed a fire. So after a bit of rootling around they found some reasonably dry wood and some twigs and pine cones for kindling. Soon they had it going and they ate some of the food that Sir Drex’s men had given them.

  “First or second watch?” Dacha asked her.

  Cass felt wide awake. “I’ll stay up now, you sleep.”

  Dacha yawned. “Thank you.”

  Cass sat peacefully by the fire, feeding it wood and watching as the day was whittled away into evening and then darkened into night. There was a spectacular sunset somewhere behind her but Cass was happy observing the different shades of blue in the sky above her and spotting the stars as they came out. The moon appeared, a broad slice of silver in the sky that reflected off the snow and the mountains around, gently illuminating the running water of the river. Pine owls started to call up in the trees around her and, to her delight, she watched a family of beavers appear and frolic around on the riverbank. It was a moment of peaceful solitude and Cass was almost sorry when Dacha woke up. But he saw the beavers too and, anxious not to d
isturb them, he came and sat next to her quietly. They watched them together in silence until the animals retreated back into their nest.

  “I’m guessing that as a Veraklian you know all about the stars,” Cass said, gazing at the sky above her, which was a mass of pinpricks of light. “I don’t think I have ever seen so many, even out in the Islands, and I can never remember their names.”

  Dacha laughed. “Yes, I had a good Veraklian education in the stars. My father used to take me up to the roof on most clear nights to show me the different constellations and teach me their names. The easiest one to pick out is over there – the goat,” he said, pointing up to a collection of stars to the north. “Do you see those two particularly bright stars? Those are the top of its horns and then can you trace down its nose?”

  It took Cass a moment before she could see what he was talking about. “Oh yes!” she cried. “Show me more. Where is the constellation of the bear? Mrs Potts was always trying to point it out to me and I could never see it.”

  “That is over in the east – can you see those four stars all together? That’s its nose…” Then he went silent. He touched Cass’s arm and pointed to a large shape moving down by the river.

  “Talking of bears,” he whispered to her. And he shifted over to grab a couple of the branches from the pile of wood they had amassed. He put one end of each in the fire to heat them up to frighten the bear away if it came over.

  Cass knew that Veraklian mountain bears might look cuddly with their thick brown fur coats but they were every bit as aggressive and vicious as ice wolves. They watched tensely as the bear smashed the ice in the river and drank from it. He stayed by the water for a while and then lumbered off along the bank.

  “He’s gone,” Dacha announced. “But I’ll stay up in case he returns. You must get some sleep.”

  Cass nodded gratefully and curled up by the fire, sleeping soundly for a few hours.