The Magic War (The Eastern Slave Series Book 5)

by Victor Poole

  "Why do you think people get married?" Ajalia asked him. She imagined Delmar blinking about this.

  "Um," he said, and then he didn't say anymore.

  "You were awfully ready to kiss me just a few minutes ago," Ajalia said. Delmar didn't say anything at all. "And I don't think you're nearly as innocent as you pretend to be," she added.

  "I never said I was innocent," Delmar said.

  "Why shouldn't Clare marry Ocher?" Ajalia asked.

  "Let's go back to talking about how I'm calling you a liar," Delmar said. He sounded uncomfortable.

  "Okay," Ajalia said, shrugging. "Are you going to believe me about the worms?"

  "They aren't worms!" Delmar shouted. He seemed to have reached his ability to be patient and calm. His voice was wrought up to a pitch of excitement and fervor that she had rarely heard out of him. She was sorely tempted to kiss him, just to see what he would do about it. She thought he might burst into tears, if she did kiss him. "What are you being quiet about now?" he demanded.

  "What do you mean?" Ajalia asked. "Why shouldn't I be quiet?"

  "You have that thing that you do," Delmar said, sounding agitated, "when you're thinking about doing something to make me feel uncomfortable. You think it's funny."

  "I was thinking about kissing you," Ajalia said. "I thought that would make you feel uncomfortable."

  "Are you serious?" Delmar asked. He sounded pleased.

  "Mm," Ajalia said.

  "Do I have to apologize about the lying?" Delmar asked.

  "Are you going to do it again?" she asked.

  "Well," Delmar said. Ajalia burst into giggles. "What are you laughing about now?" he demanded, but he sounded as though he was trying not to smile.

  "Now you are the one saying 'well' to me," she pointed out. They sat in silence for several minutes. Ajalia thought that the sun would soon begin to rise.

  "Did you really see the black dragons?" he asked her. "Tonight, and last night?"

  "Yes," Ajalia said. "I killed both of them."

  "Oh," Delmar said. He sounded disappointed.

  "Is this upsetting to you?" Ajalia asked.

  "No," Delmar said, but he sounded disappointed. After a few moments, he sighed. "I think I was hoping, if they were real," he said, "to find them myself."

  "I didn't really find them," Ajalia said. "At least the first one. I went looking for the second one, I guess."

  "Why?" Delmar asked.

  "I was angry," Ajalia said. "I wanted to kill something."

  "So you went and found the last black dragon and you killed it?" Delmar asked. "Just because you were angry?"

  "Yes," Ajalia said. "Is that wrong?" Delmar thought about this for a while.

  "I think you must be the sky angel," he said finally. "You're doing an awful lot of epic things lately."

  "Does that make me the sky angel?" Ajalia asked.

  "Probably," Delmar said. He sounded disappointed again.

  "You do realize, don't you," Ajalia asked, "that if I'm the sky angel, you're the falcon who's going to fly, and unify the people, and all those things?"

  Delmar thought about this, and then he seemed to cheer up a little. Ajalia felt the mattress rustle as he sat up.

  "You're probably right," Delmar said. He sounded quite cheerful. "Can I kiss you now?" he asked.

  "Will you say you're sorry first?" Ajalia asked. She was sure that Delmar smiled.

  "I'm sorry for acting like you were a liar, and for not believing what you said," Delmar said. He waited, and then added, "and for the other thing."

  "What other thing?" Ajalia asked.

  "I guess Ocher can be not quite dead yet, if you say he isn't," Delmar said. Ajalia laughed, and then Delmar wrapped her up so tightly that she stopped breathing. "Hello," Delmar said, and Ajalia did not know what to say back. She kissed him, instead.

  Isacar, Ajalia found, had the good sense to leave her alone for a very long time the next day. Delmar kissed her for a long time, and a good deal of snuggling was had, but when the sun began to send rays of light, far too soon, in Ajalia's opinion, around the edges of the curtain that hung over the balcony, Delmar, who had been winding his fingers through her hair, extricated himself with a kiss.

  "Leed's teaching us how to fly," Delmar whispered, putting his palm against Ajalia's cheek.

  "At dawn?" she asked. She felt supremely lazy, and Delmar's kissing, she found was quite an effective soporific. She did not know if she ought to be embarrassed that kissing Delmar was putting her to sleep, instead of stirring her up to more vigorous wakefulness, but she found that being held, and snuggled, and stroked along the head was wonderfully soothing.

  "Yes," Delmar said. Delmar sounded thoroughly awake. The dangerous glint had never yet come back into his eye, and Ajalia had felt no sudden urge to dissuade him from any baby-making activities he may or may not be contemplating. Ajalia had strong opinions on the making of babies; she was thoroughly against the use of her body as a child-producing machine. She could imagine a future in which her attitude changed, but the thought of going about the kind of life she had now, and being heavy and slow while she did it, sounded utterly impractical and miserable to her. She could not even imagine what her life would be like if she had a child. She had not yet expressed to Delmar her feelings on this matter, but she told herself that he had been, up to this point, so prudish and reticent on the idea of married life, that she had plenty of time still for such a conversation to occur.

  Delmar kissed her again, and then unlocked the door and went out. Ajalia smiled when she thought of the ribbing Delmar would receive from the boys downstairs, and from Chad. Ajalia was sure that Chad, at least, was quite aware of what couples generally got up to when they were alone in a dark room all night. She did not think that Clare or Sun, and certainly not Ossa, would have the gall to speak to Delmar about what may or may not have happened between himself and Ajalia in the dark, but she was sure that Sun would stare, and she thought it likely that Ossa would blush.

  Ajalia settled under her blankets, and her fingers met the hilt of her knife. Ajalia had forgotten that she had put it under her pillow; she smiled, and drew it out. Leed, she remembered, had said he would go out and get his own knife, when he got the falcon's dagger sharpened. Ajalia had no fear of the dagger being lost or stolen as long as Leed had it; the boy was quite as wary of thievery as she was, she thought, if not more so. Ajalia had gotten used to minding her things, and kept a running checklist in the back of her mind, but she was sure that Leed was still quite as frantic at the idea of losing valuables as she had once been.

  Ajalia sighed, and stretched luxuriously, and thought again of Ossa. She had thought, when she had first seen Ossa helping Card's daughter with the child Dasha, that Ossa would prove to be a valuable ally, and an interesting young woman. Ossa was interesting, Ajalia told herself, but she was not interesting in the way Ajalia had hoped she would be. Ajalia had wanted an efficient young woman, and a young lady with strong sense. Instead, she reflected with a sigh, she had an angry apprentice witch. Ossa, Ajalia thought, would bear watching.

  Ajalia had been too occupied with kissing Delmar to ask about the old stories of the black dragons. Ajalia still did not know anything about the ancients, or how they did battle with the two ugly worms. Ajalia did not know where the worms had come from, or how they had started to get into the hearts of those people who did evil. I hope, Ajalia thought, that they cannot grow back somehow. She rolled over in the bed, and told herself that she would get up in a moment, and see after the household. Then Ajalia fell sound asleep.

  Isacar, who was doing a great deal of organizing of his own, alongside the efforts of Daniel and Leed, and who had reached an amicable agreement with Daniel concerning their two roles in the house, had posted a guard consisting of the youngest boy of all, who was only five, and directed the child to report any person who ventured down the hall towards Ajalia's room. This boy, who was too young to do any magic, had taken on the role of guard with a passi
on that was likely only to be ended in death, and he stood like a post for hours at the head of the hallway. When any person went up or down the stairs, the little boy glared at them, and once, when Fashel had come up to ask the boy if Ajalia wanted any food, the little boy sent her away with an angry scolding.

  Leed, who had a knack for reading Ajalia's mind, much as Ajalia had learned to read Delmar's, got another boy to sneak up to the roof in the late afternoon, and to lower a basket of food down to the balcony with a rope. Ajalia woke up, feeling groggy and irritated, in the evening, and she discovered the basket because it cast a curious shadow against the curtain. When she went to investigate, and saw the basket of food lying there, she smiled, and thought of Leed. He had promised to look after her, and to see that she ate, and Ajalia felt quite warm and cozy inside as she carried the basket of spoils to her desk, and began to investigate the contents.

  FASHEL IS PURSUED

  Fashel, she found as she dug into the basket, was quite a good cook. Intoxicating smells rose up from the food, some of which was still a little warm, and Ajalia's mouth watered painfully. She had not eaten regular meals for some time now. The excitement of rescuing Delmar, and of ending the reign of his parents, and then of fighting off the magic factions in the city, and the two black worms beneath the earth, had so absorbed her attention that she had begun to lose track of the passage of time. She had certainly not taken out intervals from her adventures to eat, and Ajalia began, with a very decent appetite, to set this deplorable state of affairs aright.

  Fashel had made a whole host of things that resembled pocket-sized fruit pies. The fruit that burst out of the middle of these delectable pastries was not anything Ajalia recognized. Their texture was white and smooth, and their skins were flavorful and tart. Many of these small pies, which were made of a flaky dough, and folded over into rectangles, were quite warm in the centers, and Ajalia ate these first. When she had eaten the fruit tarts, she discovered toasted rounds of some kind of sausage that had been stuffed into a thick white paste, which seemed to be an aromatic cheese, and then enclosed in a fried skin of some bready vegetable.

  Ajalia thought that she had never eaten anything so delicious in her entire life. There were two of these sausage wraps, and though they were cool, they were large and filling. A layer of plain cloth, cut like a napkin, had been draped over the bottom of the basket. Ajalia thought at first that the napkin had been covering the bottom of the basket, but when she lifted it up, meaning to shake the crumbs out of it, she found a cluster of rich blue berries, and a thick slice of seasoned and roasted meat.

  Ajalia thought, when she had eaten the fruit pies, and devoured the two sausage-stuffed wraps, that Fashel had clearly achieved the pinnacle of what could be achieved with cookery, but when she took a bite of the slab of meat, which was quite enormous, and had been perfectly seasoned from end to end, Ajalia thought that she may as well die now, since there was nothing more for her to look forward to in life. She had this thought, and then she realized that she could never, ever die, because she needed to eat Fashel's food for the rest of her days. Fashel, Ajalia thought, was a gem. Fashel, Ajalia told herself, was a magnificent prize. Fashel, Ajalia told herself, after Delmar, and Leed, and superseding Isacar, was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  Ajalia sighed, and carried the berries and the slab of seasoned meat to her bed. She was beginning to get tired. She had an idea of rushing immediately down the stairs, and of throwing money and other precious items at Fashel's face, and commanding her to never, ever leave her household, but Ajalia's increasingly full stomach, and the utter contentment that was spreading rapidly through her whole body, overcame this desire. I can tell Fashel about never leaving, Ajalia told herself, when I wake up.

  A niggling doubt at the bottom of her neck gave her a sense of danger. Ajalia stuffed another bite of the seasoned meat into her mouth, and gnawed on it. Whenever she felt that niggling sense, something happened later that showed her she was right. Ajalia sighed, and ate the berries, which turned out to have a subtle, dark flavor, reminiscent of the toasted jam she had eaten in the East. Ajalia ate the rest of the food, and she tried to decide if she wanted to get up or not. On the one hand, she was about as relaxed and happy as she could remember ever being in her life. She knew that if she went back to bed, she would go to sleep and have the most glorious rest of her life. On the other hand, she told herself, if she got up now, and adjusted her clothes, and went down to the kitchen, she would likely prevent some accident of fate that was brewing. Ajalia did not exactly believe in accidents of fate, but she had learned to listen to the doubt that she currently felt, the sense of something being about to happen to Fashel. Ajalia was sure that if she went downstairs now, she would not go back to bed for days. Something, Ajalia told herself, was sure to happen.

  She sighed, and then she went and found her shoes, and the last pair of pants that she owned. I have got, Ajalia told herself sternly, to stop ruining all of my clothes. She reminded herself to send a boy to market, or to go herself to buy herself something to wear, and she carried the basket to the door.

  Ajalia stopped still before the door. I forgot my knife, she thought, and she turned back, and undressed. She could not believe that she had left her knife behind. Never, as long as she could remember since she had had it, had she left her knife behind. Ajalia strapped her knife harness around her chest, and fastened it. She put her tunic back on, and slung the knife into its sheath. Either I am changing, Ajalia told herself, or else my life is not as dangerous as it used to be. She did not know if there was some other explanation for her sudden carelessness. She picked up the basket, and began to look inside of it for edible crumbs as she went out the door and down the stairs.

  The boy jumped up like a rocket when he saw Ajalia open the door. When she walked past the little boy, she saw that his face was bright red; she suspected that he was holding his breath. A fierce and warrior-like expression was on his face, and his tiny fists were clenched into hard balls at his sides. Ajalia reached the stairs, and turned. She reached for a coin from her leather pouch to give to the little boy. She could see clearly that he was standing guard. Ajalia realized, when her hand closed on empty air, that she had left her bag behind, as well.

  Ajalia went back into her room, feeling quite out of sorts. She got her bag out from under the bed, and checked inside to see that the sky stone was still inside. Leed had taken the falcon's dagger, and the two leather books from her last night. Ajalia had not seen any lumps in Delmar's shirt; she was sure that Leed still had the books. She had a vision of Delmar sitting in some quiet corner, studying the two slim volumes, as Leed watched over him like a hawk.

  Ajalia went out of the room for a second time, and gave her little guardian boy a fat coin.

  "You're off duty for now," she told the boy, who nodded sharply, and stared with fixed eyes at the wall opposite. Ajalia, who thought that the boy didn't want to abandon his post while she was in sight, went down the stairs. She went directly to the kitchen, and stepped inside the open door. Philas was in the kitchen, and he was hovering solicitously over Fashel, who was cutting vegetables on the large table.

  "Well, hello," Ajalia said. Philas, who had been leaning rather close and whispering into Fashel's ear, jumped, and let out a guilty yelp.

  "Hello," Fashel said demurely to Ajalia.

  "Is he trying to talk you into something unsavory?" Ajalia asked Fashel. Fashel smiled, and glanced at Philas, who blushed, and retreated to a corner of the kitchen. Ajalia thought that Philas looked very much like a young man who wants to run away, but his jaw was clenched, and he looked quite determined to wait Ajalia out, though his ears turned a magnificent shade of red. Ajalia saw that Philas had made time to straighten his beard, which had been quite uncouth the night before, and the seams of his clothes, which Leed had sliced through, had been deftly repaired.

  "Philas is a great flirt," Fashel told Ajalia. "Sun warned me about him. He'll get nowhere with me." Fashel look
ed determined enough, but her cheeks were also turning a little pink.

  "Have you met Isacar?" Ajalia asked Philas. Philas did not make a face at her, but his mouth thinned into a line.

  "Yes," Philas said in an even voice, and Ajalia was sure that Philas knew about Fashel's engagement to Isacar.

  "Oh," she said. She took the basket to the window at the back of the kitchen, and shook the tiny crumbs out of the basket and the length of cloth.

  "I didn't know if I was to put crumbs out there," Fashel said, watching Ajalia. "I need to buy a bucket for odds and ends, but I forgot this morning."

  "How did shopping go?" Ajalia asked. She replaced the basket in a corner of the shelf, and leaned against the counter. She was glad she had come downstairs. Ajalia was sure the Philas was up to something with Fashel, and she was determined not to lose her new cook to Philas, who, she knew from personal experience, was a smooth talker.

  "Well," Fashel said, blushing with pleasure, "I went out early with two of the boys. Leed wanted to come with me, but he had too much to do, so he gave me a list, and he gave one of the boys some money for things that he needed." Ajalia wanted to know what kinds of items would manifest themselves on a shopping list that Leed drew up, but she restrained herself from asking. Philas, she thought, looked incredibly young just now. She reflected that he may be a much younger age than she had ever suspected. His face had always seemed haggard and drawn. He could be quite handsome, when he was happy, but he had always had bitter lines around his eyes and mouth, and his cheeks had seemed to be dark and hollow to Ajalia, particularly when his beard was full.

  Philas now presented a completely different picture to what he had been before. His beard he had trimmed back neatly, and his cheeks seemed to be full and ruddy with life. His eyes had brightened considerably, and his mouth now was curved in a satisfied smile.