The expression on his face changed, eyes widening. His fingers were slipping from the stone balustrade. Ardhuin wrenched the window open and cast the levitation spell just as he began to fall.
Dominic hung in midair before her, staring at her in astonishment. Ardhuin didn’t know what to say either. He wasn’t wearing a coat, and the cold was making his teeth chatter.
“M-may I come in?”
She had never once been able to make him leave when he wanted to stay. And she couldn’t just leave him to freeze. Ardhuin nodded jerkily and moved him inside. She turned away as soon as she set him down, ostensibly to fuss with the window fastening, but really to avoid seeing him. While she had been planning on running away without him, he had been searching for her, and she felt her face heat with shame.
“How did you find me?” She had to know. There were countless windows in the Imperial Palace, and she doubted he’d been looking at them all. Not without freezing to death.
“A schutzmagus reported a room he couldn’t open, even with a key. We could get in to all the others in the wing, and I saw magic from the outside. Markus Asgaya helped me up to get a look. They were desperate to find where you were.” He still shivered, but he made no move towards the ceramic stove in the corner.
“I suppose they sent you,” Ardhuin said in a tight voice, angry and hurt.
“There was no need. I would have tried to find you earlier, but they insisted I help free von Koller first. They didn’t know how you had done it. They were afraid he would die.”
Ardhuin turned around at this, stung. “I wouldn’t have killed him!”
Dominic’s expression was serious. “But you could do it. Couldn’t you?”
Certainly she had the ability. She had even had, for an incandescent second, the desire. When it came to the deed itself, however, she’d found herself curiously reluctant to even harm von Koller.
“They want you to come back,” Dominic said gently.
No word on his feelings on the matter, Ardhuin thought resentfully. “No they don’t,” she snapped. “If they do, it is only for the opportunity to rant at me. They can send me a letter if that’s all they want. Why aren’t they here? Why are you running their errands?”
Dominic hesitated, running a hand through his hair then glancing at her. “They are afraid of you, Ardhuin.”
To have him so close, in the same room, and yet so distant was more painful than she could ever have imagined. He hadn’t moved since she’d brought him in, his eyes never leaving her for an instant. And she couldn’t move away.
She forced herself to speak around the tightness in her throat. “Are you afraid of me?”
Dominic closed his eyes, his face drawn and white as if he were in pain. “Sometimes,” he whispered. Then his eyes flew open again. “Sometimes I forget to be afraid. And sometimes...sometimes I think you have a right to punish me for what I did to you.”
He was looking at the floor now, color tingeing his prominent cheekbones. It took Ardhuin a moment to understand what he was referring to, and then she felt her own face go hot. She had almost forgotten his view of what had happened that night. It didn’t make sense. Hadn’t his illness been more than enough punishment?
“That was entirely my fault!” Ardhuin protested. “I was strong enough to stop you, and I didn’t. Don’t you understand that?”
In a few quick steps he was standing directly in front of her, his face inches from hers. His dark eyes blazed with anger. “I refuse to accept that I have no blame at all in the matter. How can you possibly know what I was thinking? Why can’t you understand that?” he yelled.
Ardhuin stared at him dumbly, taken aback by his intensity. She still thought he bore no responsibility for anything he had done while intoxicated by the effects of the ley lines, but clearly he disagreed with her, and she wasn’t even listening to him. Of course he would be angry.
She took a deep breath, and in a small voice said, “Very well.”
Dominic’s furious expression changed to one of surprise. The absurdity of the situation struck them both and they started to laugh.
A rapping noise came from the direction of the door. Ardhuin was startled, until she remembered she had dropped the wards to bring Dominic inside.
Dominic swore. “What impeccable timing,” he muttered. “Well, I suppose they are getting impatient. Shall we?”
Ardhuin backed away, glancing at the window and wondering if she could escape that way. All of her earlier fear had returned full force.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to go,” Ardhuin said in a shaky voice. “They are angry with me.”
Dominic held out his hand. “They still need you to help them with their problem. Remember, they are afraid of you. If they are angry, they will do their best to conceal it.”
She’d still be able to tell, and it would terrify her. Worse, she might do something even more unforgivable than pin a very important government official to a wall.
She felt her hand taken in a firm grasp. Dominic gave a gentle pull. She resisted it, but did not let go. It was too much of a comfort.
The rapping repeated.
“That’s Markus,” Dominic said. “He’s probably worried something’s wrong. You don’t think he’s angry with you, do you?”
Ardhuin frowned, feeling irritable. “I still don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to talk to anybody.” She just wanted to go home. With Dominic.
“But—” Dominic looked puzzled. “You are talking to me.”
“You are different,” Ardhuin said without thinking, and felt her face go red again.
“I’ll stay with you,” he said, smiling. Ardhuin felt a wave of guilt, and when he tugged again she followed reluctantly.
Outside the door, waiting, were Markus and Gutrune. Ardhuin had only a moment to notice that Gutrune seemed ill at ease, when she said, “The King wishes to speak with you. Alone.”
Chapter 13
Ardhuin followed Gutrune, wishing she had yielded to her impulse to jump out the window. They were in the King’s private wing. Dominic had not been allowed to accompany her. The refusal was phrased firmly but politely. There was no reason for anybody to be angry with him.
“Do you know why the King wishes to see me?” Ardhuin ventured. Gutrune shook her head, and she sunk further into gloom. Her friend looked worried, and that was a bad sign as well.
Ardhuin was escorted by three schutzmagi into a large room fitted up as an office. It was notable for the complete lack of the gilded plaster trim and ornate furnishings found everywhere else in the palace. Behind the large double-fronted desk was the King.
He wore a plain uniform without insignia, and he looked even more tired than he had before. The desk was covered with papers and half-rolled maps.
“Fraülein Andrews, your Majesty.”
The King looked at her for a moment without expression, and Ardhuin felt her stomach twist. “Thank you, Adler. You may go.”
Her escorts were so startled one of them broke discipline and protested.
“But...your Majesty! She is—”
Now he looked angry. “Out! I do not wish to be disturbed. See to it.”
The door shut with a solid click behind her. Ardhuin swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
“They wish to protect you, your Majesty,” she said, amazed at herself for speaking at all. She was as surprised as the schutzmagi had been that the King had sent them away, and wished they would come back. She didn’t know if she trusted herself right now.
The King sighed, resting his forehead on his clasped hands. “They do. I have no complaint with their service. From what I am told, however, if you truly wished to harm me, three would not be at all sufficient to stop you.” He raised his head and gestured to a chair near the desk. “Please be seated.”
Ardhuin sat. She was only an arm’s length away from him, and she could see the grey in his hair and the fine lines on his face. This was not at all what she had been expecti
ng. His tone was brusque, but it felt more like it was his natural way of expressing himself, unconnected to her misbehavior.
She thought about suggesting more than three defensive magicians but decided it would be better not to argue. The King had enough reasons to be annoyed with her.
He leaned back in his chair, regarding her for a moment. “Do you know how I came to my present state?”
Ardhuin blinked. What did that have to do with her? She shook her head.
“I was not intended to inherit the throne. My father was the younger son. I was nineteen years of age when the Mage Wars began. My uncle was killed and my father badly wounded in a magical attack on Fortress Gruneiden. My grandfather, advanced in years, died just before the end of the war. My coronation took place on my twenty-first birthday, and I was almost completely ignorant of everything I needed to know to rule.”
The beginnings of understanding filtered through her mind. “Did anyone say you could not be King?” she asked. Strange, how this felt nothing like a conversation between King and commoner, but more like one between equals. She looked down, seeing a litter of papers on the floor behind him, and smiled to herself. It seemed the King of Preusa did not hold tidiness in much account.
“Yes.” There was a glimmer of amusement in his pale eyes. “For one thing, my father was still, barely, alive. There were factions opposed to me, including those of my grandfather, the late Emperor. It was known that he had not been pleased at the prospect of my inheriting, and that I held quite different views on the desirability of expanding the reach of the Teuton empire by military conquest.”
Ardhuin sat up. She remembered reading about this at school, and the discussions of whether the Preusans had really changed. It also reminded her of a question that had bothered her since her arrival.
“Is that why you are only the King, even though this is the Imperial Palace?”
“No.” His face had a hard, forbidding aspect for a moment, which softened when he took a small oval frame from where it stood on the corner of the blotter. He turned it so Ardhuin could see it. It held a photograph of a woman who at first glance did not even appear to be pretty. As Ardhuin looked more closely, she saw the firm line of the jaw and the tiny curves at the corners of her mouth that made her look as if she had just thought of something amusing. “By law, the Emperor of the Teuton Nations must take as consort one of royal blood. My wife is of a noble, but not a royal, house. Every year the Assembly petitions that the King of Preusa take his customary title, and every year I ask if the law has been changed.”
The poor man had troubles everywhere he turned. Ardhuin felt guilty all over again, thinking that she had added to them.
“About what I did to Herr von Koller. I am sorry for—”
The King held up a hand, and she stopped, astonished.
“You did what needed to be done.”
“I did?” Ardhuin gasped.
“The circles in which you move have been, until your arrival, exclusively male. The code of honor applies and any insults must be addressed to retain your status.” He ticked off points on his fingers. “Firstly, he challenged your abilities before important and influential people that you must deal with, who must respect you. Secondly, he refused to hear any refutation from those who had seen what you can do. Thirdly, he challenged my word as to who and what you are. If you had not acted, I would have been forced to do so, and given the delicacy of the situation I am relieved the necessity has been removed.”
Her brain was moving too slowly to understand everything he said. It felt like the world had been turned upside down and given a good shake. “It was the right thing to do?” she repeated, dazed.
The King permitted himself a small smile. “No one present in that room will ever question your ability again—at least, not where you can hear. That is an improvement. Von Koller will resent that you shamed him before his colleagues, however. Be aware that he will now be your determined enemy.”
Well, that was no surprise.
“Was there any other way for me to prove myself that—that wouldn’t make him angry?” she asked.
The King shook his head. “The two are inextricably connected. Your mere existence is an affront to him. Moreover, he blames you, rightly or wrongly, for the difficulties the Kriegszauberkollegium finds itself in. No, you must simply be aware that he is angry, and that doing such things when you are angry yourself can make others angry too. You will want to limit the number of enemies you make, if you can.” He sighed. “It becomes difficult to keep them straight after a point.”
There was a lot to think about here. Ardhuin felt herself relax, finally accepting that if the King was angry, it was not with her. Still, she had created an uncomfortable situation.
“Should I apologize to Herr von Koller?”
The King raised an eyebrow. “For what? He insulted you. It is for him to apologize. No,” he said, as she started to object, “I understand what you mean. I will say that I reprimanded you, as I reprimanded him—reminding you both of the danger we are in and the grave need for cooperation. So, officially, don’t do it again.” He shook his finger at her, frowning sternly.
Ardhuin stifled a laugh, got up and curtseyed. “I will not do it again, your Majesty. I’ll think of something different,” she muttered under her breath as she sat down again.
The King affected not to hear.
“I did not know there was so much to being a Mage Guardian,” Ardhuin said, the overwhelming feeling of being out of her depth returning. “My great-uncle did not mention this sort of thing at all.”
“Oron never paid much attention to politics or diplomacy, so he probably thought it was not important,” the King observed dryly. “I was privileged to meet him at the signing of the Armistice in Parys. He publicly refused to teach a spell of power to Prince Ranalt of Alba, saying the prince lacked the mental strength. He declined an invitation to the Duchess of Hevard’s ball, offering as his excuse that he would prefer to be spending his evening among the booksellers. Those are only the incidents I personally witnessed; I daresay there are hundreds more. I am told he could always be relied on to vanish magically when he found a party dull or company trying. So you see, I was not entirely surprised by you.”
Sensing the audience was over, Ardhuin rose. “I would prefer...that is, I fear I may make enemies that I don’t intend, since I am a stranger here and do not know the...the customs.”
The King gave her an enigmatic look. “You may confide in Gutrune von Kitren,” he said after a pause. “Her family has served mine since both came into existence. There is very little concerning the court and its intrigues she does not know.”
“They could be there for hours. Must you wait here?”
Dominic clenched his hands. “Yes. I must.” Why Markus felt he needed to stay as well was unclear to him.
“What did she do, put a compulsion on you?”
Dominic turned on him, suddenly furious. “How dare you say that!”
Markus held up both hands, eyes wide. “It was only an attempt to lighten your thunderous mood, I assure you.”
“I do not care for your humor,” Dominic said through gritted teeth. “If my mood offends you, go somewhere else.”
Markus shrugged, grinning. “What, and miss all the fun? I haven’t heard any explosions this half-hour. I hope Fraülein Andrews is not feeling unwell.”
Dominic was already worried that Ardhuin might do something to get in even more trouble, and Markus’ casual comment reminded him that she had been unwell earlier. Some of this must have shown on his face, because Markus added, in a more serious tone than he usually used, “I am certain all is well. The King has far better manners than Herr von Koller. I merely wondered if we might more profitably use our time elsewhere. You recall that I recognized some of the names on the list you gave me?”
Dominic nodded.
“I sent a message to Ermut Arendt, asking him to list all those who had died in duels lately. His reply matches the crossed-
out names exactly.”
“Someone has been using duels to get rid of them?” Dominic asked. “But why?”
Markus rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing in thought. “It looked like a list of potential plotters. If I were to guess, the ones killed were found unsatisfactory in some way but knew too much to be left to their own devices. As you recall, von Gerling attacked me when I was illusioned with the appearance of one who had a duel that day. What if he had survived? Von Gerling would assume he had reported whatever this secret plan is and we had come to arrest him. No wonder he panicked.”
“I am not familiar with magical duels,” Dominic confessed. “Is it possible to be so certain that you will win every time?”
“It is not likely the same opponent killed them all,” Markus pointed out. “That would be too noticeable, and everyone would be at pains not to offend him. You are right, though. Especially a duel to the death would be subject to chance. They could not guarantee the outcome...and yet clearly they did.”
“What of the other papers?” Dominic asked.
“If we had the code book, or a longer text, we might be able to puzzle out the cypher,” Markus said. “The most it tells us is something was going on that required secret communication. In the interest of time, I suggest we give it in.”
“Won’t they wonder why we didn’t give it to them earlier?” Dominic asked, doubtful.
“Oh, not to the Kriegsa. To the military. They’ll be so delighted to have something that could make the Kriegsa look even worse they might actually tell us if they find anything.” Dominic looked at Markus, wondering if he was joking, but the defensive magician was not smiling. Were matters really at such a pass that the different institutions would not help defend their own country? “Now that scrap, that could be interesting. How did it get torn?”
“I found it in the branches of the bush just outside the window he escaped from,” Dominic replied. “The other half must still be with him. It sounds like they are going to take decisive action, doesn’t it?”
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