Unguilded

by Jane Glatt

“It’s my risk too,” Kara said.

  “Yes,” Mika agreed. “But you already showed me the poultice.”

  Kara sighed. That was enough for Mage Guild to put her to death—would teaching Mika to read and write make that death any worse? She didn’t trust Mika—but neither could Mika trust her.

  “All right,” Kara said. “You take me safely to the port, and I’ll teach you as much as I can while we travel. And you must promise to keep me safe from the guilds.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Mika said. “They don’t like our kind much—unguilded. We keep to ourselves, and for the most part we aren’t bothered.”

  “Unguilded,” Kara said. She’d never heard the term. “Were you ever a Guildsman?”

  “Me, no. But there’s lots of us who were. Them that have left guilds are more shy about strangers, though.”

  “With good reason,” Kara said. The guilds didn’t like losing people. In her case—unless they found out she’d shared Mage Guild secrets—she had enough value that they would probably let her return. For others, it could mean death.

  “Then we have a trade,” Mika replied softly. “I’ll take you with me to Rillidi, and you’ll teach me to read and write.”

  “And help me stay away from the guilds,” Kara added.

  “Yes,” Mika replied. “Although along the way I might have to introduce you to some unguilded.”

  She nodded. She would like to meet some who lived outside of the guilds. It gave her hope that she could live that way too. She paused. “Someone very powerful has been looking for me.”

  “It’s always dangerous for unguilded,” Mika said slowly. “That’s why I keep to the Mountain Road. Besides, some things are just worth the risk.”

  “Yes,” Kara agreed. Running away had to be. Mage Guild would have consigned her to a miserable life bearing babies for men she didn’t have the right to refuse. And if none of her children showed magic, she’d have to live with the horror of knowing she’d brought her children into the exact same life. She wouldn’t do that. It would be better to be dead. And if she was caught teaching Mika, Mage Guild would make sure she was.

  “I’ll need some supplies,” she said. “Books, pencils, paper to write on.”

  “I think I have what’s needed,” Mika said. “It’s always been a hope, reading and writing.” He looked down at his feet, a blush on his neck. “Sometimes at night I take out a book and pretend I can read it, pretend I know what the words say.”

  “Are you sure you want to know the truth?” Kara asked. “The truth can be a lot more ordinary than what we imagine.”

  “I want to know,” Mika said fiercely. “I want to know what others have tried to keep from me, ordinary or not.”

  Kara nodded. “I’ll start later today.”

  ARABELLA SMOOTHED A hand along her hair and smiled at her reflection. It was late morning, and Valerio had just left for his own room.

  She dipped a cloth into the basin of water and gently patted her face. There was no need to enhance the blush on her cheeks—Valerio had proven to be quite . . . athletic. She tossed the cloth onto the washstand, placed her hands on her stomach, and whispered a small spell, the warmth from her hands spreading to her belly. She would know in a few days.

  She quickly dressed and packed her bag. After a night spent pleasing the Mage Guild Secundus in bed, it would not do to displease him out of it.

  He greeted her warmly when she stepped into the main room, and she had to suppress her triumph when he stood and pulled her chair out for her.

  Arabella settled in beside the second most powerful man in all of Tregella and smiled demurely as he poured her tea.

  “The ferry leaves in half an hour,” Valerio said. “I will create the spell after we eat.”

  “Would it be too much to ask to watch?” Arabella said. “I do of course know how to create seeking spells, but none quite this . . . directed.” She didn’t want to watch, she wanted instruction. Valerio Valendi was well-known as a powerful, yet subtle, Mage—no doubt his killing spells were finely crafted. She would dearly love to know his technique.

  Valendi stared at her for a few heartbeats, and Arabella wondered if she’d made a mistake. He would mistrust her if she pushed him too quickly. Finally he nodded.

  “I forget that you came to Rillidi late and did not have the same opportunities to learn that others had,” he said. “Of course you may watch.”

  Arabella smiled and nodded, trying to hide her relief. “Thank you, Secundus.”

  “Arabella. I think that after all we’ve . . . shared . . . you should call me Valerio, don’t you?”

  “Thank you, Valerio,” Arabella replied. “I would like that.”

  “Yes, I was sure you would,” Valerio said.

  A Server brought a plate of bread and butter, along with some fresh fruit. Arabella tried to judge Valerio’s mood, but he simply ate in silence, ignoring her. Had he meant that last comment as a warning? Had he seen through her efforts to get close to him? She nibbled on a piece of melon, her appetite gone. He glanced at her, and she smiled brightly until he looked away.

  Valerio pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. “It’s time,” he said and strode away, forcing Arabella to hurry after him.

  He knew. He knew she’d been manipulating him. She slowed and smoothed her hands across her dress. So. She should have expected that the Mage Guild Secundus would not be so easy. And he didn’t know, he’d guessed. Because she’d given herself away. And now she had to make sure he didn’t know the truth—that she’d ordered her daughter to run, knowing that the guild would kill her.

  “Valerio,” she called after his retreating back. He paused and allowed her to catch up to him, but he didn’t turn around.

  “I apologize for my clumsiness,” she said. “As you mentioned, I did not come to Rillidi until late. My peers were much further ahead of me in so many ways.”

  Valerio turned to face her. “And now?”

  “I am still paying for my lack of experience,” she said. “I want to change that.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “But I need the right mentor.”

  He smiled, and she knew she had him. But that thought didn’t comfort her.

  “A mentor,” he said softly. “What else do you want?”

  “A child. I need a child—one with magic.”

  “Or at least the potential for magic,” Valerio said. “It will be a decade or so until it’s known for certain. What do I get in return?”

  “Me,” Arabella said.

  “I’ve had you,” Valerio said. “What else do you offer?

  “I know things about certain members of council, things that would help you control them.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Valerio said.

  “I have no connections, but I do have some . . . talents,” Arabella said. She lifted a hand and caressed his face.

  Valerio grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “Yes, you do.” He stared at her, then shook his head and laughed. “I believe that you have been able to gather some secrets. All right. I will be your mentor. But we must keep it a secret.”

  “Only until I am with child and can no longer hide it,” Arabella countered. “The father of my child must be known.”

  “So I can protect you from your enemies?”

  “So that they know my child will be powerful.”

  “Our child,” Valerio said.

  “Our child,” Arabella agreed.

  “Come, the Servers will take care of our bags and mounts. We have magic to do.”

  “Yes,” Arabella. She let her hand rest for a moment on her flat stomach before following Valerio Valendi towards the ferry dock. They had magic to do—a spell to ensure that her child was born without a living sibling.

  KARA PURSED HER lips and lifted the compress off her finger. The wound was still a little swollen, but she thought most of the infection had been drawn off. She prodded it with a clean finger and flexed her right hand. She felt only a twinge of p
ain.

  She was lucky, thanks to Mika. She was still wary of him, but she thought he was telling the truth—he was willing to risk much to learn how to read and write. Without his help she could have lost her finger—or even her life—and as long as she had something he wanted, she thought she could trust him to help her.

  She wondered if she could get more from Mika than safe passage to Rillidi Port. He was part of a world she’d never even heard of, a world where people weren’t owned by their guild, weren’t at the mercy of the guild’s wishes and desires. If she could become part of that world, she could choose the type of life she wanted. She might even be able to stay in Tregella.

  Her problem, Arabella Fonti had called her just before she’d told her to run away. Now Kara wondered if she’d hoped the daughter she’d never wanted wouldn’t survive the trek to Rillidi.

  Thoughtful, she stared into the fire. What problem was solved by Kara running away? Not Papa. Her mother had said she was going to divorce Papa. Arabella didn’t care about the daughter she’d born, so she likely cared even less about the man who’d fathered that child.

  Was she somehow a threat to Arabella’s position within Mage Guild? She would expect her mother’s reputation to diminish with her daughter’s escape, but maybe having a daughter without magic was worse. Kara running away didn’t change that, but it did mean she wouldn’t be around as a reminder.

  The guild wanted more Mages—it was a Guildsman’s duty to have children, talented children. But in all her years in Rillidi, her mother had not born another child. Did a Mage without talented offspring lose status? Would Arabella Fonti need to bear another child since her only child had no magic?

  Even if she did, that didn’t explain how her own disappearance benefitted her mother. Perhaps she really did want the best for her? Kara shook her head. That’s what she wanted to believe, not what she could believe.

  “Here,” Mika tossed a blanket to the ground beside her. “It’ll get colder once the sun goes down.”

  “Thank you,” Kara said. She was grateful to have more than her tattered shawl. She knew too well how cold it could get at night.

  “And I brought some books.” Mika held out a battered volume. A second one was tucked under his arm. Kara took the book from him and set it down in front of her.

  “Navigation: Charting a Course Using the Sun and Stars,” she read. She opened it to the first page. “It shows how to determine where you are based on the sky. I’ve heard of this, but it’s not something I’ve been taught. It’s a Guider Guild skill.”

  “That would be useful to a traveler like me,” Mika said. “The man I got it from said it was the story of Gyda—how she came from the heavens to show the First Guildsman the Way. There are pictures of the heavens, and Gyda’s star.”

  Kara flipped through the book until she found a series of drawings of the night sky. Sure enough, Gyda’s star was identified.

  “Yes, but the pictures show the sky as you’d see it in different seasons.” She turned the page. “See,” she put the book flat on the ground, and Mika leaned over her shoulder to look. “This is the sky in early summer, like now.” She flipped to the next page. “And here it is midsummer. See how Gyda is lower in the sky?”

  “I never noticed that before,” Mika said. He stooped and gently turned to the next page. “And this drawing?”

  “This is early harvest.” Kara turned another page. “And late harvest.” She smiled at Mika. “As long as you know the season you can determine where you are, more or less.”

  “I’ve been lost a time or two since I had this book. If only I’d known what it held,” Mika said. “No wonder they don’t want us all to read. They’d lose their power over the rest of us.” He picked up the second book. “Imagine if I had that first book and then this one showed where fresh water was? I could go somewhere new and wouldn’t need a Guider to tell me what routes were safe.”

  “I’m sure Guider Guild has water sources marked down,” Kara agreed. She could have used knowledge like that in the past few days, instead of praying for burros to lead her to water.

  “Yes, they would,” Mika said bitterly. “Hoarding what they know so’s their guild can manipulate the other guilds, letting us regular folk suffer. People lost ’cause they can’t afford a Guider—children without shoes ’cause Maker Guild hasn’t bothered to send anyone to their town—houses letting the rain in ’cause no Mason’s willing to fix it. And Mage Guild,” he sent her a sideways glance. “That’s the worst of them all. They let sick people get sicker and die ’cause there’s no Healer close enough, or cheap enough. If you’re not guild, you’re nothing, and if you are guild, you better be important. It’s all just people looking out for themselves. Nobody cares about their neighbour, their friends, or even, sometimes, their family.”

  “True enough,” Kara agreed, thinking about how her own family had treated her, how they had used her—even planned her birth—in order to gain status within Mage Guild. And what her fate would have been had she not run away.

  “Anyways,” Mika said. “The two of us aren’t going to change how things are done. You promised to teach me how to read some.” He sat down beside her and held out the second book. “No pictures in this book. I got no idea what it’s about.”

  “First Guildsman, the Teachings of Paolo Santonini,” Kara read. “It must be a history of how the guilds started.” She looked over at Mika. “Are you sure you want this? I can’t guarantee that you’ll be able to read either of these books any time soon—I can only give you the basics.” She paused. “I could show you another healing poultice, instead.”

  “No,” Mika said. “You said you would teach me to read and write.” He frowned at her. “Why are you trying to get out of this trade?”

  “I’m not,” Kara said. “I agreed—I promised—to teach you and I will. I just . . .” She looked away. “I don’t know you. You could be planning to hand me over and collect a reward from Mage Guild.”

  “Could be,” Mika said. “But if I was, do you think I’d ask you to teach me to read? Gyda, if Mage Guild found out I knew the healing trick you already showed me, they’d kill me. And you and I both know they would be able to find out.”

  Kara met Mika’s solemn gaze and nodded. If Mika did betray her, she would have no reason to keep the healing poultice a secret. Mage Guild wouldn’t believe her, but they would get the truth out of Mika—either by magic or torture.

  “All right,” Kara said. She was as satisfied as she could be. Mika had just as much to lose as she did if they were caught. “Which would you rather start with, letters or numbers?”

  “Numbers?” Mika said. “You know numbers too? I wasn’t even hoping for that.”

  “I can’t do the calculations Masons need to build a house or a bridge, but I can do simple addition, subtraction, and multiplications,” Kara said.

  “Nothing simple about that,” Mika replied.

  “All right.” Kara picked up a stick and smoothed the dirt in front of her. “We’ll start with numbers.”

  The rest of the afternoon was spent with their heads together, scratching numbers in the dirt.

  Chapter four

  A BURRO BRAYED close by. Kara jerked awake, her heart pounding. It was just after dawn, and the sky was lightening over the mountains. The burro, Zayeera, still tied to the wagon, pawed at the ground and shook its head. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Was that fog? She blinked and peered towards the burro. Not fog—a dark grey mist swirled along the ground. It looked exactly like the one she’d seen that first morning, when it had followed her up to the ridge. The mist eddied around the burro, and the animal lifted its head and brayed.

  “Stop yer racket,” Mika growled. Zayeera brayed again, as if in response, and Mika rolled out of his blanket and sat up. “Gyda curse that burro. Can’t a body wake with the sun instead of the screeching from an ungrateful, lazy animal?” He turned to her. “Sorry, she doesn’t start every day this way.”

  Ka
ra was so focused on the grey-black mist that she barely heard what he said. The mist surrounded and then swept past the agitated burro before it crossed the small clearing towards them. She tried to make herself feel small. I’m not here, I’m not here, she repeated in her head, over and over. The mist parted and flowed around her without touching her before it enveloped Mika.

  “Brrr, there’s a bit of a chill in the air,” Mika said. He stood and shook out his blanket, the mist swirling around him. “Might as well get moving, seeing as we’re already awake.” The grey-black mist eddied at his feet and then it moved off, following the river.

  Magic, Kara thought, from Mage Guild Secundus Valendi—the mist was his colour. Mika hadn’t been able to see it, but he’d felt it. And the burro—Zayeera had reacted to it.

  But why hadn’t it touched her? She was certain that she was the one the magic was looking for, yet it had gone around her. This was completely different from when she’d seen the mist that first morning—when it had changed colour and dissipated. What had happened? Had the spell reacted to her in some way? Did this mean she had magic after all?

  For a brief second her heart soared. Magic, what she’d always wanted. She would be someone of consequence in the Mage Guild, someone important. And her mother would have to pay attention to her, finally.

  Kara’s shoulders slumped. She did not have magic. She’d failed the test for years, and neither Mage Guild Secundus Valendi nor her own mother, two very powerful Mages, had sensed any magical abilities in her. She had to stop hoping every time something odd happened. She was too old to believe in children’s tales of happy ever after. She had to face her reality. No magic, no guild status, no safety, no security. All she had was her wits and her guild-taught skills. That would have to be enough for her to have a decent life. She would make it be enough.

  Kara shook out her borrowed blanket and folded it. “I’ll just wash up,” she said as she moved towards the river. “Then I’ll be ready to leave.”

  “Good,” Mika said. “I’ll get Zayeera hitched up to the wagon. I’ve some hard bread we can tuck into as we walk.”