by Kate Elliott
“Does the mansa know about the ice lenses?” Bee asked sharply.
He glanced down, shoulders tensing. Rory nudged Vai with his knee.
“No, the mansa does not know,” said Vai stiffly.
“Are you going to tell him?” Bee pressed.
His chin came up, but remarkably his voice remained level. “Not yet. If I have to face James Drake, I will need the ice lens. And I plan to face him. All of you realize, don’t you, that allowing Catherine to go after him is a death sentence for her?”
“Having seen Cat in a fight—” began Brennan.
“Catherine can certainly take care of herself in a fight. Or against an ocean full of sharks, for that matter. You simply do not comprehend the dangers of dealing with a fully fledged fire mage. Drake almost killed her once. Lord of All, Beatrice. You ought to know better! You saw how she was burned.”
“It’s true,” Bee muttered.
Kehinde twirled the lens as she examined its icy gleam. “May I touch it, or will the warmth of my skin distort the lens?”
“That one is flawed, so it makes no matter if you touch it.”
She ran a finger along its curved face. “How do you keep them from melting? I can speculate on several mechanisms, but I am no cold mage.”
“I mean no offense by saying the secret belongs to those who remain silent.”
“In fact,” she replied with a touch of asperity as she handed it back to him, “Professora Alhamrai sent me a paper in which she detailed the manufacture and results of your experiments with ice lenses in detail.”
He slipped it back underneath his clothes. My hands twitched, wishing to follow its path along his chest. “It is still not my place to speak of it. I just want all of you to see that I am not withholding crucial information from you. Is Catherine not to join us for our meal?”
“We may all wish to say a few things to you before we invite Cat to join us,” said Kehinde.
“I certainly do,” remarked Bee with an ominous smile.
“Yes, I’m well aware of your—” Vai broke off to look heavenward, as if the Lord of All might grant him the patience and calm he so sorely lacked. He splayed his hands on the table to brace himself. After sucking in several short breaths he took in a deep breath, let it out, and addressed Bee directly. His tone was as taut as a strung wire. “I acted in an insupportable manner. In fact, I was an ass. May Catherine join us now?”
“You are impressively persistent, I’ll give you that,” said Brennan. “Rory, go and ask—”
“I’ve not yet said everything I mean to say,” interrupted Bee.
“Nor have I,” said Kehinde. “What Catherine chooses is up to her. But I have something to say to you, Magister. If I had not seen you this afternoon in a far more convivial light, I would have called you irredeemable. It was an illuminating decision by Rory to take you to the carpenters’ guild. You spoke well, and treated those humble men with respect. That gave me a different opinion of your character. You are a man of immense power and prestige. At your young age you are heir to one of the most powerful lineages in Europa. If you thereby feel this gives you the right, or perhaps more correctly the need, to treat others with contempt, then I believe you must examine your own self. And to speak so to a woman you claim to love… oh! When I was fifteen—”
Brennan got up to take a turn around the courtyard. Kehinde kept speaking, although her eyelids flickered as she forced herself not to watch him go.
“—my illustrious family married me to the son of an extremely wealthy man. He was at the time of the marriage somewhat older than Magister Diarisso, a man of the world with no patience for a quiet and sheltered girl who wanted only to please him. He still uses that tone to speak to me although we have been married for twenty years and I have gained a position of prestige through my scholarly work and writings. He now has two younger wives to fix his caustic nature on since I am so much abroad. I cannot but think ill of a man who feels it is his right and even his duty to treat other people with disdain.”
His shoulders had been lifted and tight, but they eased as he absorbed the blow.
“I thank you for your honesty,” he said in the tone of a man who has just been told his chest must be sliced open with a butcher’s knife in order for a poisonous thorn to be extracted.
“What I want to know,” said Bee, “is the whole of your intention in accepting the mansa’s offer to make you heir. What could possibly have induced you to say yes when you know what the mage Houses are? Do you feel no shame that you courted Cat in part by expressing radical sentiments that quite go against everything the mage Houses stand for?”
Seeing that Bee was speaking, Brennan returned and sat down as Vai answered.
“What choices do people truly suppose I have? The perilous journey Catherine and I took from the ice to Sala in the dead of winter was salutary lesson enough, had you been with us! Why do you suppose mages have had to band together to live? How am I to manage without a mage House to protect me? I can’t go back to Haranwy even if I wished to, for the village cannot survive if I am continually putting out their fires. No matter how much your kin love you, they must drive you out when your cold magic blooms. At best, you might hope for a little cottage with a hypocaust set away from the village in isolation, but most do not have the means or skill to build and maintain such a place properly. Although I can manage for several days in very cold temperatures without heat, Catherine saw what it does to me if I go too long without rest. Add to that the hatred and suspicion people feel toward cold mages. A man has to sleep.”
He looked at them each in turn.
“As Catherine knows, I would be dead if not for her. She braved the spirit world to rescue me, as I knew she would.” His back straightened as his head came up. The line of his neck had an elegant beauty visible only from the back, not that I was noticing such a thing at a time like this. “If the Master of the Wild Hunt could not keep us apart, then I don’t see how you people can hope to.”
“I think you are the one keeping the two of you apart,” retorted Bee. “Don’t change the subject. I am not yet satisfied with your answer.”
But he now walked on ground where he felt confident. “What I am trying to say is that mage Houses exist for a reason. That they have abused their privileges is not the same thing as saying they ought to be abolished. Rather, they should be confronted and reformed. As for the rest, there is my mother to consider. I do not need to defend my actions in seeing her placed in a position of honor where no one can scorn or harm her and where she may receive the care she deserves. But I do see it is impossible for Catherine. She said long ago that she does not belong in Four Moons House, and it is true in ways I could not bring myself to accept when the mansa made me his heir. It will take much work and time for me to change the nature of the House enough that she can find a place alongside me. I thought I could easily make it palatable for now…” He pressed fingers to his eyes, then lowered them. “I was thinking more of my own triumph than her struggle. I let my pride go to my head, as I will no doubt do again someday—”
“Tomorrow,” Bee muttered.
“—but I know it is my weakness.”
“In truth, I think your vanity is your weakness, not your pride,” added Bee. “The mansa pandered to your vanity by elevating you to become heir. That is how he captured you. In a way, he still has you trapped, for you speak of nothing now except how you will change the mage Houses and not how the mage House might change you.”
“I think you have all made clear to me my faults,” he retorted. “I need only apply to you, Beatrice, to be reminded of them!”
“You can be sure I will be ready to comply!”
“You’re both right in part,” remarked Rory, before the exchange boiled over, “but your worst weakness, Vai, is that you are secretly a little ashamed of where you were born. If you were not, then nothing they say would matter. You are not comfortable in your skin.”
Vai stared at Rory. A kind of shudder ran t
hrough his body, not so much physical, and yet as profound as at a blow that struck him to the heart. He shielded his face with a hand, hiding his expression, head propped on hand and elbow propped on table. I held my breath, yet not a touch of icy angry air sullied the humid evening heat.
Bee considered Vai with a thoughtful frown. Brennan was staring at his hands. Kehinde was nodding. What Chartji thought I could not guess.
Rory grinned around the table as if the somber mood had finally rubbed his fur the wrong way. “Is that not a clever way of phrasing it, coming from me? Comfortable in his skin?”
Brennan chuckled in the manner of a man desirous of any excuse to laugh.
Lowering his hand with a sigh, Vai looked at Chartji. “Have you anything to add to this litany of my faults, Chartji?”
“It is clearly a fascinating discussion for you rats,” said Chartji, “but I am more interested in the case you wish me to bring to the law courts.”
Brennan saw a man with a tray and waved him over. “I think we can now send Rory to ask Cat if she wishes to join us.”
“No need to send anyone,” said Vai in his smuggest tone. “She’s been standing behind us the entire time.”
Bee squinted into the darkness. “Cat? What a frightful spy you are, dearest!”
I waited until Brennan had spoken to the server and sent him off before unwinding the shadows.
“That is truly astounding,” said Brennan with a startled smile.
Kehinde asked, “Has anyone ever studied you, Cat? There must be some explanation for how you can do that. Were you taught, or did you teach yourself?”
Vai rose to give me a place to sit next to him. He was staring at the ground, lashes shadowing his lovely eyes. When I hesitated he looked up, and I could not breathe. I saw exactly how it would go if he and I were left alone. I took a place next to Kehinde, facing him. Vai sat with a resigned smile, but when a stout meal of mutton stew simmered in wine, pears poached in brandy, and fresh bread arrived, he ate just like anyone else and looked at me only ten or twelve times that I noticed, for every time I glanced at him he was watching me.
“If you apologize to him for leaving the mage House, I shall kick you,” Bee said under her breath as I savored the moist meat, turnips, and carrots. Beneath the table the toe of her boot nudged my shin in warning.
“This seems to me a conundrum, Magister,” said Kehinde. “Are you a radical or a cold mage?”
“ ‘He who tries to wear two hats will discover he does not have two heads.’ That is what I have had to consider, is it not? I am a cold mage whether I wish to be or not. But why should I have to choose? It is not that mage Houses cannot exist in a just world, but that they must change. For example, the princely law courts are often used merely to stamp and seal the wishes of the prince and his noble kin. But that does not mean law and courts are not necessary, or cannot serve justice. Chartji and I have discussed how to use the law courts to challenge clientage.”
Bee shook her head. “Every prince has his own law court. Furthermore, the mage Houses need not bow before princely law because they rule themselves and their lands as if they are princes. That does not even take into account the various different legal codes of the empire of Rome, the Iberian city-states, the Oyo kingdom that Kehinde comes from, and all the rest. Camjiata’s legal code is meant to supersede all these individual local codes into a universal civil code that addresses specific natural rights.”
“There is much to favor in the general’s legal code,” agreed Vai. “But when he dies, the princes and magisters who were forced to comply by force of arms will revert to their old ways. The princes who have already thrown their lot in with Camjiata will hope to avoid the legal implications of his civil code, thinking they can escape the provisions that shift their power and privilege most. Furthermore, the Iberian city-states that have banded together to support Camjiata’s imperial enterprise will want a reward if he wins. When he dies, do you suppose the Iberians will go home so easily? They have hated the Romans for centuries—”
“For good reason,” said Bee.
“—and may even draw all of Europa into a war between these two powers. How do you think your own people will fare, Beatrice?”
“I would suppose my own Kena’ani people are already working for Camjiata. The motherhouse of the Hassi Barahal family lies in Iberia, in the city of Gadir.”
“That is my point. Even if Camjiata brings peace for a time, it will dissolve. Even if he puts his legal code in place across much of Europa, when he dies there will be a counter-revolt against that code.”
“But the mark will be made,” she protested. “People’s expectations will have changed.”
“We have a scheme to bring suits claiming that clientage goes against the natural right of every person and community to possess their own selves,” said Chartji. “We will file suit in the courts of every prince, duke, and city-state. It will be remarkably interesting to see how each different case proceeds compared to the others, and what repercussions they have in each locality and then, in the larger arena, on each other.”
Bee shook her head again. “Legal cases can take years or decades to proceed!”
“So can wars,” said Chartji.
Vai nodded. “Change must come from all sides. Change is not a rope, a single line that you pull on. Change is a net. Or anyway, that is what Kofi always says.”
He addressed his next words to me. “Maybe it is true I forgot my promise to Kofi a little because I was so dazzled by what the mansa offered me.” He sat back to address the entire table. “But we all want the same things.”
“The best strategy is to play them off each other,” I said as I fiddled with the hem of my jacket, since I was too anxious to sit still. “They can’t both end stronger than they have begun, because they desire only victory, and thus risk defeat. But if they are both weakened, that leaves opportunity for the humbler parties to rise.”
Bee propped her chin on clasped hands. “That is why I stay with the radicals. Besides being a good orator, I can sometimes help people avoid arrest and know the safe places to hold meetings.”
“I do support the radicals,” said Vai, “and I can do so most fruitfully within the mage Houses. If Camjiata wins, he will need cold mages. I am therefore in a position to negotiate for how the Houses will cooperate with him afterward. If he loses, I can influence the mage councils when they are weakened and unstable because of the conflict. Either way, there will always be mage Houses. No matter how much you shake the boat, it will not turn over. We have to hold on to tradition but also allow it to change where it must.”
“We have long wished to place a powerful agent within the mage Houses,” said Brennan, “and this is honestly more even than we had hoped for.”
“It might work,” said Bee reluctantly.
Heart heavy, I looked down at my hands, for I knew Vai was right, that by training and temperament he belonged in the mage House, and I regretted it.
“May I speak to Catherine alone, please?” he asked, exactly as if he were a courting man requesting permission from my elders.
“Don’t involve me in this,” said Brennan. “I’ve already heard more than I feel I ought.”
“It must be Catherine’s choice, not ours to make for her,” said Kehinde.
“I don’t trust you with her,” said Bee.
I frowned. “What do you think he’s going to do? Kiss me?”
Rory laughed.
Bee rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly what he’s going to do. Instead of using reasoned words and rational arguments, the kind you would once have insisted on back when you were sensible and heartless, he will use kisses to seduce you back into his arms.”
Ignoring her, Vai addressed me. “Seeing that the hour was late when we returned, I acquired a room for the night. We might speak privately there if you will, Catherine.”
The axe blow of Bee’s gaze struck me full on. “You who so proudly claimed at the academy that you did not fall in l
ove with every handsome face you encountered! Now I look at you and despair!”
Vai’s slyest smile crept light-foot onto his lips. “You can’t possibly believe she could encounter a handsomer man. So by that logic, she is safe.”
“Enough!” I got to my feet as Bee sputtered more from laughter than from indignation. “I will speak to you, Andevai, if only to spare the others any more of this.”
“Chartji,” Vai added as he stood, “we need to be ready to take legal action as soon as an auspicious opening presents itself.”
She whistled a few colorful notes. To my surprise he answered with a short melodic pattern. Her crest flared. Then she chuffed a laugh and flashed me a toothy grin. I made my good nights to the others, not that I felt at all flushed and self-conscious for leaving them in this way.
Vai had taken a chamber on the street side of the troll wing, a tiny room with a bed, a clothes rack, a dressing table and chair placed under the shuttered window, and barely enough room to turn around. The chamber was scrupulously clean, with fresh linen on the bed and plank floors still damp from being scrubbed. A basin, three pitchers of water, and a leather satchel rested on the table. A knock came on the door. Vai opened it to reveal Rory, who handed over the leather bag Vai had brought for me. Rory stepped into the little room to hug me, pressing his cheek to mine before letting go, then paused in the door to wish us a peaceful night.
Vai lifted an eyebrow as with a question. Rory rubbed a hand over his lips in a way that reminded me of a cat grooming with a paw, and then smiled and shut the door.
“I can’t sleep on the other side of the tavern, for I would put out all the fires,” Vai remarked as he set the bag under the clothes rack. “I had to ask them to take out the nests and arrange the room for rats.” He untied his kerchief. “They all expect me to use my wiles and caresses, but as you know, Catherine, I have practice in denying myself what I most desire.”
“Do you? At the mage House, I began to think what you most desired was the flattery and the attention of the other magisters and noblemen.”