A Deliverer Comes

by Jill Williamson

  “We have all been experimenting with the voicing magic. Even I found I can manipulate another’s thoughts. You are the only one who has exhibited abilities involving memories.”

  “And Eudora,” Oli added. “She showed Hinckdan her memories.”

  “That’s right,” Trevn said slowly. “Practice with your sister, then. Teach her what you can do and see if she can learn. I want you both able to break compulsions quickly.”

  “That’s impossible, Your Highness,” Oli said. “With Randmuir it took over an hour to find the right memory, and I couldn’t have done it without his participation.”

  “And so you will practice,” Trevn said. “Start by breaking the compulsions Rogedoth placed upon Lady Eudora. I’m hoping she knows something that could help us. And if Rogedoth still holds compulsions over Puru or Ahj-Yeke or even Kinsman people, you could break those as well.”

  “But I don’t even speak the same language as those peoples! You expect the impossible, Your Highness.”

  “Everything seemed impossible once,” the king said. “I expect you only to try your best.”

  Inolah

  Ulrik had promised to meet with Inolah before the council meeting. The nation was still celebrating the return of their emperor, who had told everyone that Rurek, god of war, had brought him back from the dead, never mentioning Charlon’s magic or that it had been Grayson who’d liberated him from the mine. Her eldest had swept in and resumed control of the realm. Contrary to Inolah’s fears and his own pretension, he had taken things well in hand.

  All but one.

  The door opened, and her heart jolted at how much Ulrik resembled his father. Inolah got straight to business. “What have you done to Empress Jazlyn?”

  His eyes seemed to laugh. “Why do you ask such a question?”

  “At dinner last night she told me how proud she was to be married to such a wise man.”

  A smirk. “You find that strange?”

  “Ulrik, how?”

  “She loves me, Mother. As she should.”

  Inolah fought to control her temper. “This is no time for games, Ulrik. Barthel Rogedoth has gone. He is no doubt off to wage war against Sarikar or Armania. If they lose, we lose. We must do what we can to support them.”

  “My uncle saved me from the giant mines,” Ulrik said. “Of course I will support Armania.”

  “Ulrik. What have you done to Jazlyn?”

  He met her eyes. Grinned. “Oh, very well. I shall tell you. But you must promise to keep it secret. Otherwise people might fear me, and I don’t want that.”

  “For pity’s sake, just tell me.”

  “I grew terribly bored in Magosia. I did not get on well with those people. They are primitive and plain and very dull. But I discovered I could go into their heads with my mind-speak magic and change the way they thought. They all became so much more agreeable then.”

  Stunned, Inolah managed, “Ulrik. Tell me you did not manipulate them?”

  “I simply told them the truth in a way they could not ignore. When I saw how well that worked, I thought I’d try the same technique on my troublesome wife.” He waggled his eyebrows. “But when I learned what that woman was planning, well, I couldn’t let her get away with it. So I taught her obedience and reverence for her husband. You see how well she dotes on me now. It’s as it should have always been.”

  “Oh, Ulrik.”

  “Don’t feign disappointment, Mother. I’ve used my magic to better this realm.” He offered his arm. “The council is waiting. Shall we go?”

  What else could she say? Inolah let Ulrik lead her to the council chambers. They arrived to find the men in a heated conversation.

  “Your Eminence!” Taleeb said, rushing toward them. “Giants have attacked the village.”

  Inolah’s heart raced. “Again? When did this happen?”

  “But an hour ago, lady.” General Balat stood, clutching a crumpled sheet of parchment in one hand. “They came upon the villagers just as before, but this time we did not have the assistance of King Barthel’s army.”

  “We did not have the assistance of King Barthel during the first attack either,” Taleeb said. “It was Empress Jazlyn who defeated them then. With her magic.”

  “Then she will do so again,” Ulrik said. “I invited her to this meeting. She should be arriving shortly.”

  Ulrik invited Jazlyn to his council meeting? Inolah stifled her desire to rebuke him.

  “It’s more than that, Your Eminence,” the general said. “King Barthel set them upon us.” He shook the parchment. “This was affixed to the back of one of our soldiers by means of the arrow that killed him.”

  “But giants don’t use arrows,” Inolah said.

  Ulrik snatched the parchment, and Inolah leaned close to read along.

  Empress Inolah,

  When first I came to New Rurekau, Empress Jazlyn and I forged an agreement of peace. When she deceived me and stole the crops from my own land, she blatantly violated that agreement.

  I henceforth revoke any treaty made between our peoples and leave you to your fate.

  Barthel Rogedoth

  King of Barthia, Armania,

  and Sarikar

  “What did the empress do now?” Kakeeo asked.

  “She recently returned from the island of Islah,” Inolah said. “Perhaps she made some mischief there.”

  “She laid claim to a resource King Barthel had abandoned there,” Ulrik said. “Clearly he has discovered its worth and changed his mind.”

  “What did she take?” Inolah asked.

  “His store of new evenroot,” Ulrik said. “Turns out it has magical properties after all.”

  The implications of such a statement filled Inolah with dread.

  A knock at the door, and an Igote soldier peeked in. “Empress Jazlyn is here. She said she is expected.”

  “Of course she is. Let her in, man,” Ulrik said.

  The Igote opened the door wide, and in came Empress Jazlyn, her eunuch, and a crowd of Tennish Protectors. Her gaze fell upon Ulrik and she lit up, beaming.

  “Ulrik!” She hurried toward him, arms outstretched.

  When she was but three steps from reaching him, he held up his hand. “Stop.”

  She obeyed.

  “An empress has self-control and always remembers her rank.”

  She curtsied lower than Inolah had ever seen.

  “Now greet your husband.” Ulrik tapped his jaw.

  Jazlyn lunged forward and kissed Ulrik’s cheek, looking the part of a fully trained puppy.

  “I have grave news,” Ulrik told her. “We are again under attack by giants, and King Barthel has broken the treaty you made with him. I go now to the armory to dress for battle. You will stand beside me and fight for New Rurekau.”

  “Of course, my love. It would be my honor.”

  Ulrik turned his focus to the growing crowd. “We will fight this enemy and prevail. They will think hard before coming against us again.”

  The crowd cheered, then parted for Ulrik and Jazlyn as they left the room.

  “What do you make of that?” Taleeb asked Inolah.

  The whole scene had been so strange. She sighed heavily. “I don’t like it, but we may very well perish without Jazlyn’s help against the giants, so I will praise Arman for his provision and stop there.”

  But she did not stop. She continued to pray that whatever mischief Ulrik had waged upon his wife, when Jazlyn finally learned of it, she would not visit her wrath back upon him tenfold.

  “And he signed it ‘Barthel Rogedoth, King of Barthia, Armania, and Sarikar.’”

  “Did he really?” Trevn asked. “Perhaps he and Shanek will destroy each other in their quest for my throne. That would greatly help matters. Do you think he sent the giants to attack?”

  “I do, but I’ve yet to tell you the most surprising part of all this.” And Inolah told Trevn how Jazlyn had fought off the giants herself. “I did not see the battle, but the reports are astoni
shing.”

  “More astonishing than the first time she used magic against them?”

  “This wasn’t the old magic. It was something else. I suspect it involves the new evenroot and those rat-faced creatures. General Balat says they changed at her command.”

  “Changed how?”

  “Transformed into weapons. Fire, arrows, blades of light that flew through the air without the need for anyone to throw them.”

  “I want to say that such a thing cannot be, but I’m not so naïve anymore.”

  “Nor should you be. General Balat said he never unsheathed his sword. Empress Jazlyn used her magic to kill every giant that crossed her path. Now, to be fair, there weren’t many. Twenty-six, I believe was the report. And they weren’t all together. They had split up to herd our people into wagons. Planning to take them to the mines. Jazlyn might have had a more difficult time defeating them if they’d all come at her at once. Still. She has won the soldiers’ favor. Many are calling her a goddess. Cetheria in the flesh.”

  “What does Ulrik say about that?”

  “He’s playing the proud husband, but it’s all a ruse to get revenge upon her for trying to have him and Ferro killed. He’s forcing her mind somehow. I don’t know what to do.”

  “He must be careful. Master Jhorn says a broken mind can be a prison. It would not be wise to anger someone as powerful as Empress Jazlyn. ‘The companion of fools will suffer harm.’ Sands, I can’t believe I just used one of my mother’s proverbs.”

  “It was fitting, Trevn, and I agree wholeheartedly. By the way, your mother disappeared from the dungeon. I don’t know how she could have escaped, but I suspect she left with Rogedoth.”

  “That is unsurprising,” Trevn said. “Put her out of your mind. You have more important matters to concern you.”

  “Yes, well, I’ll be looking for a way to end this peaceably.” Before Jazlyn found a way to destroy them all.

  Kalenek

  Kal was eating his midday meal in the great hall with Onika when a guard approached with a summons from Jhorn. Kal made his apologies to Onika and went straight to Jhorn’s office, where he found Oli Agoros sitting in the chair across from the Master of Requests.

  “The duke and I are having a debate, Sir Kalenek,” Jhorn said. “One I hope you can weigh in on. Have you heard what His Grace has accomplished in breaking the compulsions on his sister and Randmuir Khal of the Omatta?”

  “I did,” Kal said. “It was a most impressive use of the new magic. Wish we’d had something like that during the war.”

  “See?” Oli said, raising his eyebrows at Jhorn. “Most impressive.”

  Jhorn’s expression remained passive. “The duke also used his magic to compel Lady Eudora to forget several traumatic memories. What is your opinion on that?”

  “They weren’t my memories,” Kal said. “Why should I care?”

  “My concern is only partly for Lady Eudora’s welfare and partly how this magic might be used going forward. A person’s personality is made up of a web of memories. To disrupt one risks disrupting them all.”

  “I touched very few memories,” Oli said.

  “Imagine a wall of bricks,” Jhorn said. “If you pull too many from the middle, others will go with them because they are interlocked. So are memories. And while you have erased memories, you cannot erase the attached emotions. Your sister may find herself suddenly drowning in a sense of uneasiness with no idea why. Without her memories, she could be lost.”

  “She will not forget what happened to her, I assure you,” Oli said, his voice rising. “To erase a memory, I must experience it myself. And while I did erase those experiences, I did not erase her knowledge that they happened.”

  “I simply feel this could be crossing an ethical line,” Jhorn said.

  “If someone lives through a deep horror,” Oli said, “why shouldn’t that person be able to do away with the memory—especially if the memory haunts them and forgetting could improve everyday life? If the process is safe, permission is given, and only certain memories are magicked? Sir Kalenek, what say you?”

  Kal thought of Charlon’s compulsions. He still felt as if some part of his mind was missing. “Memory informs who we are,” he said. “It’s also about survival. A warning system to prevent us from repeating unsafe actions. Could be dangerous to meddle with that.”

  Oli sighed. “Even when someone begs you?”

  “Chieftess Charlon did much to me while I was living under her rule,” Kal said. “I’m still uncertain how much of my memory was lost due to her compulsions. Might be that it all came back. But the uncertainty is unnerving.”

  “I don’t want people to suffer needlessly,” Jhorn said, “but learning to deal with fear—the process of seeing your experiences as a logical observer—that can produce strength and freedom. To simply erase a memory cheats a person of the empowering experience of healing.”

  “Some things cannot be remembered logically,” Kal said.

  Oli looked troubled. “I once pulled Rosârah Zeroah into a childhood memory. I had just faced the pole for failing my father. The memory had plagued me for years—until the rosârah comforted the child inside my memory. She told that boy the truth. I still remember the event, but it no longer brings shame.”

  Jhorn nodded, a small smile on his face. “That’s what we must seek to duplicate. Use your power to heal memories, not to erase them. Doing so will make the weak grow strong rather than allow them to live as if such traumas never happened.”

  Kal’s stomach churned at the idea that such a thing might be possible.

  “I couldn’t do it alone,” Oli said. “I’m about as comforting as a dune cat in a cradle. I’d need the assistance of another, preferably one with the ability to mind-speak.”

  “Like Rosârah Zeroah?” Jhorn asked.

  Hope kindled within Kal and prodded him to say, “Or Miss Onika?”

  Oli shrugged. “Or someone like them. Someone empathetic.”

  Kal wanted to try this with Onika. To see if she could diffuse his nightmares and—

  “Hello, Father. I have come to visit you.” Shanek’s voice.

  Kal jerked his gaze around the room. “Are you here?”

  “Is who here?” Oli asked.

  “I am with you, but in the Veil,” Shanek said.

  Kal leaned against the desk, shocked to have heard the boy’s voice after so long. “Stay hidden, Shan,” he thought. “It’s not safe at the moment. In fact, we should go to my room.”

  “Who are these men?” Shanek asked.

  Kal didn’t want the boy here, listening to their discussion about how the mind-speak magic could be used. How much had he heard already? “Forgive me. I must go.” He left the room and ran upstairs to his own bedchamber.

  His heart thudded in his chest, and he leaned against the door, catching his breath. The room was dark with the curtain drawn over the narrow window.

  Why had Shanek come here? To attack. There was no other explanation. He had come for King Trevn.

  A green glow appeared at the foot of his bed, balanced in the center of a hand, floating by itself in the middle of the air. The eerie light grew, illuminating arm, torso, and just a hint of the face of the young man who held it.

  “It’s safe now,” Kal said. “I’m alone.” He crossed the small chamber and lit the candle on his sideboard, then sat on the edge of his bed and motioned for Shanek to join him.

  Shanek came the rest of the way into view and let his light fade. “Why did you leave Magosia?”

  “Because you left.”

  Shanek came to sit beside Kal. “But I came back and you were gone.”

  “I’m sorry, Shanek. I set out to find you, but I got distracted helping someone. It was never my plan to come here.”

  “You aren’t here to help me?”

  “Help you how?”

  “Become king of Armania.” Shanek scowled. “He said you wouldn’t help, but I didn’t believe him. Amala didn’t either. We though
t you would be for us and not—”

  “Whoa.” Kal help up his hands. “Who is he?”

  “Dendron. He’s my counselor now. King Barthel betrayed him, so he is helping me. He says I’ll be king of Armania. He says I’m powerful enough to someday be a god.”

  Kal’s heart sank. Shanek had taken up with a great shadir? “What did Charlon say?”

  The boy’s posture slumped and he glowered. “She doesn’t want me to be king.”

  “That doesn’t sound like her.”

  Shanek shrugged. “I don’t need her anymore. Dendron and I have our own plans.”

  “Did Dendron tell you to come here?”

  “I came to see you, so I could carry Rosâr Trevn to King Barthel.”

  Was Rogedoth behind all this? “Oh, Shan. You mustn’t take Rosâr Trevn.”

  “I have to. I can’t be king if he is king.”

  Kal wanted to say that Shanek could not be king at all, but he didn’t dare challenge the boy, especially if Charlon had already rejected him and Dendron had filled his head with lies.

  “That might be true, Shan, but this is the wrong way. If you take Rosâr Trevn to Barthel Rogedoth, know that the man will kill him.”

  Shanek shook his head. “Amala made him promise to give Rosâr Trevn and his wife a nice place to live.”

  “He is twisting the truth,” Kal said. “Rogedoth wants King Trevn dead.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “You don’t have to believe me, Shanek, but I would hope I have your trust.”

  “Will you come home now? I can carry you.”

  “I can’t go back to Magosia,” Kal said. “Charlon and I have parted ways.”

  “So have we. Can I live here with you?”

  Kal’s heart hurt to see Shanek’s confusion at being abandoned. “You’re welcome to stay here, Shan. I always want you with me.”

  “But not as king.”

  Kal met the boy’s dark gaze, saw the anger there, mixed with hope. “Not yet, Shanek. Not like this.”

  “Dendron was right about you.” Shanek vanished, leaving an imprint in the mattress where he’d been sitting.

  Kal jumped up and fled into the hallway. He needed to warn Rosâr Trevn to get out of the castle before Shanek carried him to the enemy.