Voice of Command (The Spoken Mage Book 2)

by Melanie Cellier

  But perhaps they didn’t mean to attack at all. There had been plenty of opportunity for them to do so, and surely it would have made more sense to do it earlier when there were far fewer witnesses—or even passing mages who might intervene.

  My tense nerves didn’t like that conclusion, but I couldn’t risk courting a confrontation when none might be necessary. Not when I didn’t know who was following me or what they wanted.

  Instead I kept up my faster pace, the last couple of miles flying away as I soon reached the outskirts of the city. The traffic here was much heavier, and for a while I lost sight of my pursuers. I had almost begun to calm down, when I caught a glimpse of them again. Still behind me, but closer this time.

  I ducked and dodged through the street, weaving around carts, wagons, carriages, horses, and pedestrians. The last time I had walked these streets I had been wearing my white robe, and the crowds had parted before me. I briefly wished I had it on now, but quickly rejected the idea. It would only make me a clearer target and easier to follow.

  The simpler houses on the outskirts of the capital grew taller and closer together, sagging against one another with age. Only the free-standing buildings of red sandstone—healing clinics, law enforcement stations, and other public buildings—stood alone.

  The window boxes on the houses were mostly colorless at this time of year, doing little to lighten the drab impression of gray stone. But I knew that in spring it would be different. The small parks had color at least—the reds and oranges of autumn brightening the trees—and the markets I passed were sprinkled with bright stalls.

  The lower part of the city, home to common folk, gave way to fancy store fronts with wide, clear windows that sold goods only mages and the richest of common families could afford. These shops held only a passing resemblance to the general store of my parents back home in Kingslee.

  And at my fast pace, even the stores quickly disappeared, replaced by mansions that each stood alone in their own grounds, protected by railings and gates and surrounded by fountains and greenery. No weathered gray stone here. Only red sandstone or white marble.

  I had never been inside any of these dwellings, and yet the sight of them gave me an unexpected feeling of homecoming. The Academy was built of white marble, and I could hardly believe how accustomed I had grown to the daily sight of it.

  As I walked uphill toward the crest of the mound on which Corrin had been built, I let my attention dwell briefly on the enormous building which filled the summit. The royal palace.

  It soared above the rest of the city, all glistening white marble and elegant towers. Although I couldn’t see them, I knew that its various outbuildings flowed down the other side of the mound, only ending at the northern city wall. And flanking the palace on either side, were two more tall, white marble buildings. The Royal Academy of the Written Word and the Royal University.

  If it hadn’t been for my pursuers, I would have considered turning right, into the University, to surprise Jasper. But the solid walls of the Academy called to me, and my whole focus narrowed to getting safely inside them.

  I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until the gates closed behind me, and I paused, my back against the inside of the Academy wall. For almost a minute, I blindly watched the fountain in the center of the courtyard. I no longer had even the smallest bit of doubt those men had been following me, but it seemed they had not been doing so with the intention to attack.

  As my breathing slowed and calmed, a new idea took hold of me. Those in power believed the attacks on me the year before had come from our perpetual enemy—our western neighbors, Kallorway. But I had seen one of my attackers—supposedly deceased while in prison—in a Stantorn retinue.

  If no one believed me, then no one was even investigating the possibility. Which meant, if I wanted to protect myself, I needed to do some investigating of my own.

  Being inside the Academy grounds had already had an effect on my nerves. I was no longer a solitary traveler—I was once again a mage trainee. And I was once again free to compose. A composition I had read the year before during my voluntary discipline studies on the Armed Forces sprang into my mind.

  I had thought it a foolish composition at the time. What use was a working to turn someone invisible when mages could sense the use of power, even if they couldn’t tell exactly what shape it was forming? How invisible would you be if a swirl of discernible power enclosed you?

  But I had been picturing the composition at work while on patrol in the woods and plains of the river region that made up the front lines in our ongoing war with Kallorway. Or perhaps used by a spy while sneaking through the halls of some important Kallorwegian building, such as their palace. Here in the city, if I kept to the busy streets, it would be another thing altogether.

  If my followers were indeed mages, they might feel the use of power, but they would have no way to know it was me. Or even that it was a concealed person. Too many mages roamed this part of the city, and too many compositions were in constant use for all manner of purposes, including in the buildings themselves.

  I didn’t hesitate. Speaking quietly, I said the binding words, and then as much of the composition as I could remember, improvising when the specific words didn’t spring to mind. I took special care to build in limitations—I didn’t want to end up pouring everything I had into the working only to spend the first few days of my new year at the Academy unconscious.

  “End binding.” I looked down at myself and grinned. I could no longer see my body. I held up my arms in front of my face but could see nothing but the courtyard and fountain.

  Almost running now, I threw open the gate and slipped out. Glancing up and down the street, I began to worry that my pursuers had already departed. But, no. I found them lounging against the outside of the University wall, talking quietly to themselves, their eyes on the gate of the Academy.

  For a moment, I panicked, before remembering that they couldn’t see me. A hint of confusion crossed their faces when the gate closed again with no one having gone in or out, but neither of them moved or called a challenge.

  I took up an opposite position, leaning against the Academy wall, and waited. Time seemed to pass slowly, but in reality it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before they pushed themselves off the wall and started back down the street.

  This time I was the one to follow them.

  Turning the tables in such a way gave me a thrill. Right up until the first horse nearly trampled me. After that I kept my attention on the road, dodging the traffic while trying not to lose the two men who were moving faster now than they had been while following me.

  I was just starting to worry that they might be heading for the back warrens of the lower city where my use of power might actually stand out, when they slowed. One of the larger mansions, built of the same white marble as the palace, stretched along the eastern edge of the road. They paused in front of a small gate, a short way down from the elaborate main gate that was no doubt used by the mages who lived here.

  After the men exchanged brief words with a bored looking guard just inside the smaller gate, it swung open, and the men disappeared inside. It swung closed again before I could even contemplate following them, which was probably just as well. I wasn’t equipped for exploring a hostile mage mansion, even with my composition in place.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to return to the Academy, either. Not when I had no idea who lived there.

  I crossed the street and took up a position against the railing that protected the mansion on the western side. I had time. I could afford to wait a little and see if anyone recognizable came in or out.

  But as the minutes ticked by and became an hour, neither gate budged, and no one approached the home. My stomach started rumbling, and I began to think I would be better off finding someone to ask rather than just waiting here.

  “Elena!” The call made me jump and stare wildly around.

  “Elena!” It came again, a simple carriage pull
ing to a stop in the road just past me.

  I glanced down at myself and realized with a shock that I was visible again. How long had I been loitering here, visible to anyone who passed?

  I was still kicking myself when a familiar figure jumped down from the carriage and rushed over to embrace me.

  “What are you doing here?” Coralie smiled, clearly happy to see me, so I forced myself to pull my mind away from my mission and smile back.

  “Have you walked all the way back today?” Coralie rushed on without waiting for my answer. “I bet you’re exhausted. No wonder you were having a break. I wish we’d known. We could have picked you up.” Her face fell. “But I suppose you had no way to get a message to me. Drat this no writing thing!”

  I shrugged and smiled apologetically, not wanting to correct her misconception about my reason for standing here.

  “Well, you can come the rest of the way with us, at least,” she said. “Although it isn’t far now.”

  As she tugged me toward her carriage, I glanced over my shoulder at the mansion across the street. Coralie might come from a minor mage family, but she had still grown up in the mage world.

  “Coralie, whose house is that? The big, fancy one?” I pointed at it.

  She turned to look, her face immediately souring. “That’s one of the Stantorn mansions.”

  My heart sank, but she kept going.

  “Home of General Thaddeus, Head of the Royal Guard.” She said his titles like an insult rather than an honor, and I appreciated the sentiment. The general had been one of my staunchest enemies the year before.

  Her words confirmed all my worst fears, until she continued to speak, muddying the issue.

  “As you know, he’s cousin to the queen herself.” Coralie rolled her eyes at me. “Apparently he’s been hosting a summer house party for the last week. General Griffith is back at the front lines, but his three children are there.” She gave me a significant look, and I grimaced.

  Their older brother had been at the University the year before, rather than the Academy, but the Devoras twins were year mates of ours and no fans of mine.

  “Natalya and Calix—my favorite people,” I muttered, and Coralie grinned.

  “And don’t forget Weston and Lavinia. Naturally as Stantorns, they’ve been there too.”

  The two cousins made up the rest of the group who had most fiercely resented my presence in first year at the Academy. Lavinia and Natalya were best friends, so it was no surprise they would be together at this event.

  Coralie cast me a quick sidelong look as she started to step into her carriage. “I heard Lucas was there too. The general being his mother’s cousin and all.”

  She disappeared inside before I could respond which was just as well since I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  Of course Prince Lucas of Ardann would be at such an illustrious event, hosted by a family member no less. It didn’t have anything to do with me, and really I couldn’t care less. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

  The prince had disliked me since I first appeared at the Academy, and I had spent a large portion of my summer break reminding myself that nothing had changed between us. He had always been an arrogant, entitled royal, and we had always hated each other.

  But when the nights got too hot, and I tossed and turned in my bed trying not to wake up Clemmy, I all too often found myself reliving the feel of his lips pressed hard against mine, and the feel of his arms wrapped around me, catching me as I fell.

  For a brief moment at the end of last year, I had thought something changed between us. I had begun to wonder if perhaps, under all his royal manner, Prince Lucas and I might have become friends. Because even in my imaginings, I couldn’t really believe we could ever be anything more than friends.

  But even friendship had been an illusion, apparently. At least based on his behavior when I emerged from the healing rooms after draining my power. I was a commonborn—worthy of interest and study as the first and only Spoken Mage, but not worthy of respect as a person.

  Which brought me back to the fact that it made no difference to me who Lucas chose to spend his summer weeks with. No difference at all.

  I pulled myself into the carriage after Coralie, and then nearly fell as I stumbled my way to a seat. The interior was more crowded than I had been expecting.

  “Are you sure…” I glanced at Coralie. “I can walk, you know.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  She squeezed closer to a boy beside her, making just enough room for me to fit next to her on the bench seat. I dropped into the position she indicated and smiled awkwardly at the other occupants.

  “This is my mother and father,” she waved at the middle-aged couple across from us. “And this is my brother. Everyone, this is Elena. Who I told you about.”

  I nodded at them all.

  The boy leaned forward to see around his sister, gaping at me.

  “The Elena? You’re the Spoken Mage?” He looked with excitement between Coralie and me. “Can you show us? A verbal composition, I mean?”

  “Arthur!” His mother frowned at him. “Don’t be rude.”

  “She’s not going to do one right here.” Coralie rolled her eyes. “Really!” She turned to me. “Excuse Arthur, he gets a bit overexcited. My family weren’t going to come to drop me off this year, but he starts at the Academy next year, and he begged for us all to come up.”

  Arthur, who didn’t look fifteen to me, flushed and slouched in his seat.

  “I didn’t beg,” he muttered.

  Coralie opened her mouth, no doubt to correct him, when the carriage slowed and began to turn, distracting them both.

  “Oh, we’re here!” she said at the same moment as Arthur said, “The Academy!” in reverential tones.

  I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he gazed eagerly out the window. What must it be like to be raised in a mage family, looking forward to the day when you would join your year mates and begin your studies?

  By law, all mages attended the Academy the autumn after they turned sixteen. No one could attend sooner—a mage’s ability to fully control power only matured at sixteen—although in exceptional circumstances it could be delayed. This had been the case with Lucas who had started at seventeen, delayed after he was required to travel with a royal delegation to the northern Sekali Empire the year he turned sixteen. I had often wondered if he resented being forced to wait, but he had never mentioned it in my hearing.

  Passing the Academy was as mandatory as attendance. A mage without control was a danger to everyone. And unlike a regular mage, my failure would have resulted in my execution rather than imprisonment, since they had no way to safely contain my ability to verbally compose. Given that, I had expected my enemies to attempt to manipulate my first year exams. If they could ensure I failed, it would take away the problem of me once and for all.

  I had not expected to be abducted part way through, however, and I still couldn’t quite believe I had been given a passing grade. It helped that the Academy Head Lorcan was highly invested in my remaining at the Academy. After all, if I was executed, he and the University Head, Jessamine, wouldn’t be able to study me like some sort of academic curiosity.

  I had been terrified the first time I arrived at the Academy, with no idea how I had managed to compose and no idea what my fate was to be. I had felt none of the wonder, awe, and excitement I saw in Arthur’s face.

  A sadness crept over me, and I turned quickly away from him. The Academy had become a second home of sorts for me, a place I felt—if not safe, then safer, at least—than I felt most anywhere else. And that would have to be enough.

  When we came to a stop in front of the huge square block of the Academy, so different from the elegant lines and towers of the palace, I hurried out of the carriage. Coralie and her family would want time to make their farewells.

  “Thank you for the ride.” I nodded at her parents who smiled kindly back at me.

  “I’ll see you ins
ide,” I called to Coralie, and then launched myself up the front steps and into the large entrance hall of the Academy.

  For a second I thought it was empty, and then I managed to collide headlong with the only occupant.

  I stumbled and would have fallen if strong hands hadn’t steadied me. For a breathless moment, Lucas and I stood face to face, a mere breath apart. And then he released me and stepped back, his face expressionless.

  “Elena. You’re back.”

  Chapter 5

  “Are you surprised?” I glared at him. “I am a trainee here, remember?”

  His usual mask cracked, a grimace briefly crossing his face as he ran a hand through his hair.

  “I just meant…”

  I raised both eyebrows. “Yes? You just meant what, exactly?”

  He sighed. “As belligerent as ever, I see.”

  “As rude as ever, I see.” I told myself my anger now had nothing to do with our kiss. It had obviously meant nothing to him, and it meant nothing to me either.

  He glanced around at the still empty entrance hall. “I just meant that I saw you arrive earlier. And leave again. And I saw you work that composition.”

  He gave me a significant look, and I flushed. I had been in the Academy grounds at the time. I hadn’t broken any rules by composing—had I?

  He continued to look at me expectantly, and I felt myself weakening. Lucas might not be a friend, but he knew more about the attacks on me—and my theories about them—than anyone else. And I was bursting to tell someone what had happened.

  “I was followed.”

  “Excuse me?” Clearly that hadn’t been the answer he was expecting.

  “I walked in from Kingslee today, and someone followed me.”

  He frowned. “So you decided to follow them back.”

  I nodded. For all his stubborn refusal to consider that Stantorn and Devoras mages might be behind the attacks on me, he wasn’t in general stupid.

  The thought of the final destination of the men I had tracked reminded me of something else.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?”