It was nearly noon when the final body was laid to rest, so I went back to my room to change. Cederic had worn the Kilios’ robe, and I’d been given the robe of a Castaviran priest because I’m a mage. It was uncomfortable, emotionally, like I was betraying the true God, but I didn’t do anything religious so I’m sure it was all right. Then we ate in our room, without saying much, and I dawdled, and played with my food, until Cederic said, “If you wait too long, your sister may leave before you have a chance to speak with her.”
“How do you know that’s what I’m thinking?” I said.
“You fiddle with things when you are putting off an unpleasant task,” he said, “and that shrimp is looking rather tattered now. And I know of only one unpleasant task you might have to face today, given that the mages will not be working until tomorrow.”
I ate the shrimp, thinking I would need to be more careful if I wanted to conceal my emotions from Cederic. Then I realized I never wanted to do that. “You don’t mind if I don’t ask you to come?” I said.
“Not at all,” he said. “This is a private matter. But I would like to meet her eventually.”
“We’ll see how this goes,” I said. I kissed him and left the room.
It was tempting to slip away from my bodyguards for this. They’re good soldiers, but not equipped to contain a thief with years of experience eluding men just like them. But I think they’d be disciplined severely if they lost me, even if it was my choice to elude them, and that’s not fair to them. So I told them where we were going, and we set off for Lethess. I was glad Roda wasn’t in Pfulerre, though why would she be? I know my bodyguards are uncomfortable in Pfulerre because they don’t speak the language and because they’re so conspicuously Balaenic, and the Pfulerrians aren’t exactly hostile, but they’re not friendly either.
We drew some attention as we made our way down to the docks, but not much. Lethess sees a lot of soldiers going in and out of town, and most of them head for the dockside entertainment despite the strong warning they’re not to get into any fights with the sailors. I was inconspicuous in my regular work clothes, which are of a Balaenic design except for my trousers, but you can only make trousers so many ways and these didn’t really draw the eye. So we looked like four Balaenic soldiers and a Balaenic mage headed into town for a day off. If you looked closely, you’d see they had me surrounded and looked extremely alert even for soldiers, but nobody shouted my name or told everyone to make way for the Empress-Consort.
The Salten Arms was easy enough to find because it was the largest inn near the docks. It was also fairly upscale, not the sort of place an ordinary sailor could afford, and it made me wonder what business brought Roda here. We went inside and found it had the same floor plan as most Balaenic inns built about seventy years ago: a small entry room flanked by the taproom on one side and a dining room on the other, and stairs to right and left going up to the upper floor (or, in this case, floors—it had four stories).
There wasn’t anyone at the desk, but there was a bell, so I rang it. Pretty soon someone thundered down the stairs. It turned out to be a skinny man I wouldn’t have imagined could make that much noise. “Yes?” he said, breathlessly.
“I—” I began, then realized I had no idea what name Roda was using. “I’m looking for a woman who’s staying here,” I said, and described Roda. “I’m her sister.”
“What’s the name?” he said, pulling a large register from under the desk and opening it.
“I, uh, don’t know,” I said. “We don’t have a surname. We haven’t seen each other in sixteen years and we…didn’t have much time to talk the other day.” I realized “the other day” had been most of three weeks ago, and suddenly I felt sick, remembering what Cederic had said. I didn’t know if she’d even still be here. I deeply regretted all those days I’d held onto my anger.
“We register under surname or placename here,” he said, shutting the book. “Can’t help you if you don’t know one of those. Sorry.”
“Wait,” I said, feeling desperate, “she would have arrived at least three weeks ago, and her praenoma is Roda.”
The innkeeper regarded me curiously. “I’ve seen you before,” he said.
“Probably,” I said. “My name is Sesskia. I’m the Empress-Consort.”
His mouth fell open, and he let the book fall back on the counter with a thud. “You are at that, true God defend me,” he said. “Your Majesty. You said your sister? True God help me, royalty staying at my inn.”
I didn’t correct him. “Please say you remember her,” I said.
He flushed. “I’m not sorry about this. I can’t give out information to just anyone,” he said, “’specially since I had no proof she’s your sister. I mean, not that I don’t trust your word, your Majesty, but you might have been anyone.”
“That means you remember her,” I said.
He blushed some more. “Wait here,” he said, and rushed up the stairs again. We waited. Eventually I heard more measured footsteps, and Roda appeared. She looked awful, her hair matted, her nose and eyes red from a cold, and she moved as if she ached everywhere. “Sesskia,” she said. Her voice was hoarse and as painful-sounding as the rest of her looked.
“Hi,” I said. “Can we talk?”
She glanced at my bodyguards. “Alone,” I said. I turned and told the soldiers, “You’re going to wait here, and no one’s going to tell Mattiak we were separated for a while, right?” They nodded, uncertainly, but that was good enough for me.
Roda turned and went back up the stairs, and I followed her to the third floor and into a cluttered room that smelled stuffy, like the windows had been closed for too long. I saw the innkeeper hovering at the far end of the hall just before Roda shut the door.
“I’ve been sick for about a week,” she said, clearing some clothes off one of the room’s two chairs. The bed was unmade, and there were some plates stacked on a table near the door. “Housekeeping is good here, but I told them I don’t like being disturbed. Hard enough falling asleep without people banging in and out all the time. You want to sit?”
I nodded and took the newly-cleared chair. Roda sat in the other. She looked impassive again. Impassive and ill. “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you,” I said.
She waved that off. “I feel much better than I did,” she said.
“You look all right,” I said.
“I look like hell,” she said with a short laugh. “Not that Merrikun—the innkeeper—is put off by that. Too bad for him he’s not my type.”
“I wondered why he looked so embarrassed when I found out he’d been stringing me along to protect you,” I said.
“Well, I doubt anyone in this part of town is going to say no to the Empress-Consort,” Roda said.
That dried up our conversational reserves. Finally, I said, “I thought you might have left.”
“I should have left five days ago,” Roda said. “The cold got in the way. I’ll be leaving in three days, cold or no.”
“Oh,” I said. More silence. I felt really stupid about coming. I looked in the direction of the window, took a deep breath, and said, “I didn’t think about how brave you were to contact me. You must have known I wouldn’t be happy to see you.”
“I thought it was a chance worth taking,” she said.
“What did you think I’d do?” I said.
I heard her take a deep breath of her own. “Pretty much what you did,” she said. “Yell at me. Blame me. Accuse me of a lot of things I was guilty of. I hoped, once you’d done that, you might be willing to forgive me.”
“You think you deserve forgiveness?” I said, and memory hit me so hard I felt dizzy, me saying that to Cederic and him saying I think we need forgiveness most when we do not deserve it. I cut across whatever Roda was about to say with, “But it’s not about deserving, is it? You can’t make up for the past and I can’t live the past over again. And I think maybe forgiveness is about not being angry that you can’t do either of those things.”
Roda wiped her nose on her sleeve and laughed, embarrassed. “When I pictured this, I wasn’t quite so runny,” she said. Then we were hugging and crying until I was a little runny myself. When we both calmed down, enough to sit, I said, “You don’t really have to go, do you?”
Roda shrugged. “I can send word to my partners I’m taking a few weeks off. They know I’m owed it. I just—Sesskia, why are you the Empress-Consort? Don’t they know who you are?”
“I won’t say my upbringing isn’t a problem for some people,” I said, “but when my husband became the Emperor, I didn’t have a choice.”
“We have some long stories to tell each other,” she said, and we did. Though there wasn’t enough time today for more than me to tell her about my travels, and coming to Castavir and marrying Cederic, and for her to tell me about settling in Garwin and getting a job with a shipping company, then working her way up until she was part owner.
That was as far as we got before dinnertime, and we ordered food sent up (I arranged for my guards’ dinner too, and tried not to feel too bad that they were no doubt bored out of their minds) and I tidied up the room while we were waiting for the meal. Roda didn’t try to stop me. By that time she was lying down again, saying only, “That’s something I remember well, you keeping that awful little shack clean right up until you had to go out to work at the fishery. And Bridie did her best to mimic you.”
“She was never very good at it because she only ever wanted to read,” I said. “I used to, um, borrow books for her and return them again when she was done. Had to be careful or Mam would sell them for gin.”
“Probably just as well we didn’t qualify for membership in a lending library,” Roda said. “Though it sounds like you invented your own personal one. I never meant for you to become a thief, you know.”
“I know,” I said, feeling no resentment. It was wonderful. “But it’s a skill that served me well over the years.”
“Just so you made good use of it, I suppose,” Roda said with a laugh. I’d forgotten how cheerful her laugh was. It’s not like either of us did a lot of laughing back then. “Though putting a thief on the throne—”
“I had the same thought,” I said.
“Why didn’t you get someone to restore our name? Wouldn’t that make your cause easier?” she said.
“I don’t even know what that name was,” I said. “Just what Mam always said, that we used to be wealthy and live in a manor. Dad certainly never talked about it.”
“I was too young when we lost it to remember it myself, but I looked into it once,” Roda said. “After Mam died, and I couldn’t find you, I thought if I could regain our surname, maybe that would make up for everything. It was stupid, I know, but I was consumed by guilt. But I never got anywhere. Dad’s name—it was like there were a million Aleniks of the right age.” She sat up straighter against the pillows. “Though it did feel as if my not getting anywhere was on purpose. Like someone had gone out of their way to bury our family. The only thing I learned was we weren’t just rich, we were noble. As in we had the “ssar” after our name.”
“Not that that makes it any easier to trace us,” I said, “if our name was eradicated. But I wish I could walk up to Arron Domenessar and use that name to spit in his eye.”
“Somehow the idea that you have any relationship with Domenessar is harder to believe than the Empress-Consort thing,” she said. “You know he wants to be King, right?”
“I know we’re probably going to have to fight him in the spring,” I said. That’s when I realized it almost was spring. It’s hard to remember because the weather’s so nice here, but it’s almost the end of Teretar, and that means the snows are lessening and the skies are clearing. A few weeks now, and we’ll be off to Barrekel, and true God alone knows what’s going to happen then.
We haven’t talked about it at all, because Radryntor takes up all of Cederic’s time and magic takes up all of mine, but we’ve made no progress toward anything that might sway Domenessar or bring the Black and Brown Armies under Mattiak’s command. And I had such a nice day, too, right up until that occurred to me.
We had dinner, and talked some more, and then I had to go back to the camp because it occurred to me Cederic might have started wondering where I went, and although he knows I can take care of myself, he has a very strong protective instinct I find endearing. I told Roda I’d be back tomorrow—I think I’ll ask her if she’d like to move into the consul’s palace with us, so there’s not so big a distance to travel. I don’t know how she’ll feel about that. She’s not overwhelmed by my new status, probably because when you’ve changed someone’s nappies you don’t have a lot of illusions about them, but I don’t know if she realizes the kind of scrutiny I’m under would necessarily be extended to her. Or maybe she does. Anyway, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.
Cederic’s still not here. I warned him that if he didn’t come to bed by a certain time I’d track him down and drag him away by force, or at least stand in the doorway and make loud comments about how late it is and shouldn’t everyone be in bed already. I think—no, I can hear him coming now. Time to put this away so when he comes in, he’ll find me waiting for him wearing nothing but the quilted robe that fastens only at the waist and leaves nothing to the imagination.
Chapter Fifteen
22 Teretar
It’s been difficult to get back to research, and I think everyone is having trouble shaking the memory of the kathana. But we have to think about it or their deaths will have been pointless. Clearly, it did something, and Cederic went over the design of the kathana with me and assured me that it did, in fact, try to force a change on pouvrin. So the magic resisted that change violently, and I have to conclude that was the wrong approach.
We probably should have guessed that, since we’re certain the original magic didn’t look exactly like either type we have now, and we were essentially trying to alter Balaenic magic to be Castaviran, not that we thought of it that way. But we’ve run down our list and eliminated every possibility we came up with, which puts us back at the beginning. We still don’t know why will is different, but we’re afraid to try to alter it again. I don’t know. I feel mentally exhausted. Maybe I’ll think of something tomorrow.
Roda looked uncomfortable at the idea of moving into the consul’s palace, though I think some of that was that it was in a Castaviran city full of Castavirans whose language she could only say a few words of. But she saw the sense of it, and I think neither of us wanted to be very far from each other.
It’s so strange, not hating her anymore. Having her back. She and Cederic are sort of formal with each other, but that’s probably because Cederic is formal with everyone. I’ve caught her watching him with this speculative look, like she’s wondering what I see in him beyond him being extremely handsome, since I’m the least formal person she knows. But I think they like each other, or at least can see they have a shared affection for me.
I haven’t introduced Roda to Radryntor because I think she (Radryntor) would just be snobbish toward her. And it’s not as if they speak each other’s language. Things are very tense in the consul’s palace right now. Radryntor still eats with us, meaning Cederic and me and some of the local nobles and the Imperial Retinue (Dugan and Joena, whose praenomi I reluctantly use, Mattiak and the other generals, and Cederic’s aides plus Audryn), but she barely acknowledges me and is only superficially civil to Cederic. I wish she’d challenge us already and get it over with.
23 Teretar
Big storm blew in this morning, which kept us all indoors, and that was good, because I think we’ve come up with something. I don’t remember what got us on this track, but someone must have mentioned residual magic, because that got us all debating what we really ought to call it:
foundational magic, source magic, original magic, and somewhere in there I started thinking about what it might look like. So we talked about that. The Castaviran mages were very eloquent on the subject, because it’s only recently their best thinkers have determined it really is where magic comes from rather than being left over when you work magic. And the Balaenic mages came in with their thoughts about whether residual, or foundational, or original magic might be part of pouvrin as well.
That’s what led me to say, “I wonder if we could do something to make it visible.”
I don’t know why that one sentence stopped the discussion cold. Jeddan said, “It’s where it all comes from. It has to have been around when the magics were still combined.”
“That doesn’t have to be true,” Audryn said. “Suppose it’s a symptom—” She stopped, and her eyes grew wide.
“A symptom of the divergence,” Terrael finished.
“Either way, it’s important,” Jeddan said. “If we could see it, we might be able to figure out why the magics aren’t combining.”
“Can we do that?” Jerussa said. “Is that even possible? I thought residual magic was almost a myth until recently.”
“So did I,” said Terrael, “but we know it’s there, and I’m sure we can work out a way to make it visible.”
Everyone started talking at once. It felt as if a shroud had been lifted, as if we’d been wandering in the dark and suddenly seen a gleam of light—distant, but unmistakable. “What do we need?” I asked Terrael.
“The Kilios, if he’s available,” Terrael said. “I can come up with the beginnings of something, but I know he knows more about residual magic than I do. It’s too bad we’re not in Colosse, because the mages at the Kenekis thanest have been studying it for years, but with everyone’s help we should be able to come up with a kathana that will do what we want.”
The Unconquered Mage Page 17