Thief's Magic

by Trudi Canavan

  A longing filled her. I must be mad. I’m about to be sent to prison but all I can think of is what it would be like to touch him again. To feel the warmth of his skin against hers. To hear his voice. To see his smile.

  Izare continued staring at her until he stopped before the priests, then he turned to regard them. She could not tear her eyes away from him. She waited for Sa-Elem to repeat his introduction, but different words echoed around the hall.

  “Move away from the bars, Ais Lazuli.”

  She blinked and registered cold metal against her palms. Looking down, she realised she was gripping the bars, her face pressed into a gap between them. With an effort, she let go and stepped backwards.

  Perhaps it would be better if I don’t look at Izare. She backed up to the wall and set her gaze on the floor.

  Sa-Elem returned to the routine. Hearing Izare reply that he had read the transcript of her conversation with Sa-Elem sent a flood of gratitude through her. He knows why I did it. He knows I didn’t try to kill a child of his. To hear him say he did not believe anything she’d said to be false was like food after a long fast, or a cool breeze in summer. She smiled, barely listening as Sa-Elem continued, until a different question disrupted the previous sequence.

  “Aos Saffre, did you persuade Rielle to use magic to fix the damage done to her by the corrupter so that she could carry a child?”

  Breath caught in Rielle’s throat. She looked at Izare. He was glaring at Sa-Elem. Jonare and Errek looked equally shocked.

  Hasn’t Izare confirmed everything I said was true?

  She expected an angry denial, but Izare’s expression softened and his voice was quiet when he spoke.

  “No. And I’d have told her not to, if I had known. If she had t…”

  A shiver ran down her spine. She could hear his voice in her mind as she finished the sentence for him.

  If she had told me.

  Why hadn’t she? She loved him. Why hadn’t she trusted him?

  It was too terrible. What I’d done. What it meant for our future. He would have rejected me. And she would have deserved it. She had never longed to share the burden of her mistake with him. Surely, of all people, he would have been the one to tell, but she had never even considered it. Why not?

  Because I don’t love him enough to risk everything for him.

  She heard a name spoken that roused her out of her thoughts. Looking up again, she saw Izare’s mouth twist in contempt.

  “Famire lied,” he said. “She was there to have her portrait done. I can show it to you, if you want proof.”

  Rielle felt sick. Did he think it worth losing the commission for the sake of punishing Famire? I’m not worth it, she wanted to call out to him. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me.

  “I do,” Sa-Elem replied. He looked at Sa-Baro, who was frowning. “Bring it to the temple at the first opportunity.”

  Somewhere in the back of Rielle’s mind something clicked into place. Of course they would want to know if Famire had lied to them. Lying was a worrying habit in someone able to see Stain.

  Sa-Elem let out a heavy sigh. “Do either of you have any information to add to this examination?”

  Errek shook his head. Izare looked over at Rielle and her heart stopped. If I don’t love him, then why do I feel like this?

  “No,” he replied.

  “I…” Jonare began. Izare looked at her and frowned.

  “Yes?” said Sa-Elem.

  The woman grimaced. “Rielle told me something a few quarterdays ago. She said someone was blackmailing her.”

  Rielle caught her breath. It hadn’t occurred to her that Jonare might tell them of Sa-Gest’s threat. After all, she had advised Rielle not to tell Izare in case he did something foolish. Surely she would not risk more trouble for her friend for the sake of his tainted ex-lover?

  “Did she say who?” Sa-Elem asked.

  Jonare frowned. She looked at Rielle, then back at the priests. Rielle could not breathe. If Sa-Gest was named and punished he would think Rielle had told them.

  “No,” Jonare lied. “She never said who it was.”

  “The corrupter?”

  “No, it was a man. Someone powerful.”

  “Someone from her family, perhaps?”

  Jonare shrugged. “We did consider it might be an attempt by her family to scare her into leaving Izare and return to her parents.” She grimaced. “I advised her not to tell anyone. I wish I hadn’t now.”

  Izare was scowling at Jonare. She glanced at him, her expression guilty. “I’m sorry. It seemed wiser at the time that you did not know.”

  Sa-Elem drummed his fingers on the table, then nodded. “If there is nothing else, you may go.”

  She ought to have been relieved, but Rielle felt empty as she watched the trio leaving. Every step Izare took towards the far door was one closer to her last sight of him. Something in her chest tightened painfully and she knew she could not let this last opportunity slip through her hands. The priests would tell her to be silent, so she would have to be quick.

  “Izare!” she called. He froze midstep. “Izare, I am sorry! I—”

  “SILENCE!” Sa-Koml bellowed over her last few words, but Izare had heard. He turned and looked back at her but it was too dim in the back of the hall for her to see his expression. She caught a movement in the edge of her vision, in the direction of the priests. Errek took hold of Izare’s arm. Abruptly turning away, Izare strode towards the doors and out of sight.

  When the door closed, silence filled the room. Turning to the priests, she found that Sa-Elem was watching her. Sa-Koml was scowling but the scarred priest looked, if anything, a little bored. Sa-Elem glanced at the scribe, then turned to his companions.

  “I wish it to be recorded that I believe Izare’s shock on discovering Rielle had used magic was genuine. I regard her story as likely to be true, though I suspect omissions.”

  The scarred priest hummed. “It often appears there is more going on. Sometimes there is a deliberate attempt to mislead or distract.”

  Sa-Koml shrugged. “It does not matter. Ais Lazuli has admitted to stealing from the Angels three times. At first unwillingly and later unintentionally, but once deliberately.”

  “The punishment for all instances is imprisonment at the Mountain Temple, but the latter requires she also be made an example of by a public expulsion from the city,” Sa-Elem reminded him.

  Sa-Koml nodded, his expression grim. “We allowed the family a private examination, but we cannot stretch the law any further.”

  A shock went through Rielle. It left her weak and shaking. She grabbed at the bars to steady herself as a memory of the tainted, covered in rags, rose to block all vision of her surrounds. She heard the sound of the crowd, saw the missiles flying …

  Hands gripped her upper arms. Her knees bent and she heard a grunt behind her as someone took her weight. Dragging in a breath, she managed to get her legs to support her again, then let whoever was holding her guide her out of the cage.

  In the passage, she sagged again. Sa-Elem’s voice boomed in the passageway but she could not make out what he said. There was someone on either side, supporting and guiding her through the dim, cold ways. Doors opened and closed. Hinges creaked. She was lowered onto a hard surface. A lock clicked. Footsteps faded away.

  Eventually she recovered enough for one word to creep into her thoughts.

  When?

  How long would it be before she was paraded through the city? How long before she was taken from everything and everyone she’d ever known? The question repeated in her mind until she heard the door open. Looking up, she saw that the guard had been there all along. Now Sa-Baro stood beside him. The guard left and the old priest turned to regard her.

  He wrung his hands as he approached her, his eyebrows knitting together.

  “Rielle,” he said. “Ais Lazuli. I am so sorry. I know now the terrible timing of my actions. If I hadn’t spoken to your parents when I did you might have trusted m
e enough to reveal what had happened to you. You might not have run away from your family.”

  His apology sent a bitter anger through her. Rising, she came closer to the gate, but not so close he might think she would try to escape. “So you get to ask for forgiveness, but I don’t.”

  He grimaced. “It’s always better not to expose family and friends to—”

  “Tell me one thing,” she interrupted. “When do I leave?”

  He winced. “Ah. I don’t know exactly.”

  It was a lie. She could tell from the way he avoided her gaze. Perhaps he had been warned not to tell her. Perhaps they feared she would try to escape if she knew. To use magic. After all, what did she have to lose now? Her soul? It was already condemned.

  “Sa-Baro?” another voice said.

  The priest turned and she saw that the scarred one had entered the room. Sa-Baro nodded and retreated from the gate. He started for the exit, but as he passed the scarred priest he stopped.

  “Sa-Mica,” he said quietly. “Keep a close eye on Sa-Gest.”

  The scarred priest nodded. “I will.”

  “You know…?”

  “Yes. Rest assured, the Mountain Temple is the only appropriate place for men like him, isolated from the innocents he would harm here.”

  Rielle staggered back, recoiling as if struck by the words. Sa-Gest is coming with us. Sa-Gest will be working at the prison. She could not breathe. She fell back onto the bench.

  Then she realised what this meant. Sa-Gest would not be in Fyre. Surely he could not cause trouble for Izare and her family from afar. A mad hope filled her. Once he had left Fyre she would be free to speak of Sa-Gest’s threats.

  Except that he could always return to Fyre, or make arrangements from afar. So long as he was alive, he was a danger. At least she could ensure he was only a danger to her.

  “What is wrong?”

  She looked up. Sa-Mica stood at the gate, his dark eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  Taking a deep breath, she gathered what control she could and laughed bitterly.

  “What isn’t?

  “It was something Sa-Baro said, wasn’t it? He’s gone now. You may speak.”

  She looked away so that he would not see her anger. So I can talk now, can I? Well, too bad. You’ll get nothing out of me. After all, I’ve been told to be quiet, not to complain or criticise, to stay silent all my life. I’ve had plenty of practice at it. It was a pathetic kind of resistance, but it was all she had.

  When her refusal to answer outlasted his patience, he sighed.

  “There is more to this. Don’t think that I will not discover it.”

  She ignored him, and remained immobile until he left.

  CHAPTER 19

  The most Rielle managed that night was a fitful doze. Every time she raised her head to look, the young priest was still reading his book. The only gauge she had for the passing of time was how far through it he’d read. It was a large book, but she had no idea how fast he was reading, or if he skipped sections when she wasn’t watching. He had been near the start when she’d lain down to sleep. When she roused herself and found he was reaching the end she began to anticipate the day. Then she wished she hadn’t thought to note his progress, as she spent the next unknown measure of time fully awake and expecting the door to open at any moment.

  When it did, she wished that it hadn’t.

  The guard snapped his book shut and stood, turning to face the visitor. Rielle’s heart began to race as Sa-Elem entered. She swung her legs off the bench and sat up. The scarred priest from the day before followed Sa-Elem. He approached her, his face set and grim, and pushed a bundle of fabric through the bars of the gate.

  “Remove your clothes and shoes and put this on.”

  She took it. As it unfurled in her hands she felt a wave of nausea. It was a long tube of fabric – little more than a sack – with holes cut in the sides and top. The edges were unfinished. A memory rose of her abductor dressed in ragged, dirty trousers, filthy from the rotten food and muck thrown at him. Her stomach twisted.

  There would be no more waiting. They were taking her from Fyre today.

  At least I’ll be covered from the shoulders down, she thought. She looked at the priests nervously. Surely they weren’t going to watch her dress. They exchanged a glance, then turned their backs. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  She changed quickly, hoping they wouldn’t notice that she’d kept her undergarments on. The rough sacking only came to her knees and her arms were bare. She’d never felt so exposed while still wearing clothing. Shivering, she replaced her scarf and turned around.

  “I’m done,” she murmured.

  They turned to face her. Sa-Elem unlocked the gate and handed her a pair of sandals. They comprised simple hide soles with rope straps. She slipped them on and tied them. Sa-Elem beckoned, and as she stepped out of the cell he pulled off her scarf. She opened her mouth to object but was shocked into silence as he lifted a blade. Before she could shy away he stepped behind her, grasped her hair in one hand and pulled firmly. She felt the pressure and heard the shush of the blade slicing through hair, then her head was free to move again.

  A familiar weight was gone. She saw it held within Sa-Elem’s hands, glossy, black and straight, before he dropped it into a wooden bowl held by the guard. Her throat closed at the loss. Then she heard a metallic rattle and a shiver ran down her spine.

  Sa-Mica stepped forward holding heavy chains.

  She swallowed hard. “I am co-operating,” she forced out. “I won’t try to run. Are those truly necessary?”

  “They are to convince others that you are no danger to them,” he told her.

  She stared at the chains, feeling sick. The priests paused, then Sa-Elem took her arm and lifted it. A loop went around her left wrist and was fastened with a lock. Another encircled the right, then Sa-Mica bent to do the same with her ankles. The two chains were linked by a third. Finally, the cold weight of metal settled around her neck, the length of “lead” draping against her spine. She shivered violently.

  “Keep the leg chain off the ground and you’ll be less likely to trip,” the scarred priest recommended in a neutral tone, as if he was teaching her nothing more alarming than how to dance in a long skirt.

  Looking down, she found it too easy to picture how pathetic she looked. Like the abductor … but not exactly. He’d had his hands bound behind his back. Was this some strange sort of kindness, or had they made a mistake?

  What did it matter? The end result would be humiliating either way.

  The two priests exchanged a look. Sa-Mica nodded, then started towards the door. Sa-Elem placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing to indicate that she should follow. Lifting her hands so that the connecting chain to her legs rose from the floor, Rielle stepped forward.

  It was easier to walk than she’d expected. Her abductor had shuffled awkwardly, his steps shortened. She couldn’t have made a full stride, and certainly not run, but she was able to walk without trouble. Sa-Mica led her through the door and along the underground passages. All too soon they reached the stairs to the building above. These took a little deliberate co-ordination of the chains to ascend. The priests did not hurry her.

  At the top she entered the splendour of the temple. A fresh, familiar scent filled her nose. First they entered a short passage, then passed through a carved door into the main hall. It was, thankfully, empty but for a few priests with mops and buckets. A sloshing behind her told her they had resumed cleaning the floor. They chanted as they worked. Something about cleansing the taint from the temple. How appropriate, she mused.

  Sa-Mica set a stately pace as he led the way down towards the main doors. The chanting did not fade as they walked. Were the priests following? She resisted the urge to look back until Sa-Mica slowed to meet more priests standing at the main doors. When she did, it was like a blow to her gut. They were following her. They were sweeping their mops over where she had walked. It was her taint they we
re washing away.

  Before she could stop herself, she looked up at the huge painting covering the back of the hall. Her gaze snapped to the Angel punishing the tainted and something inside her shrivelled, but she could not look away. What was it going to feel like to have her soul shredded to nothing?

  The sound of the door opening jolted her into motion. Tearing her eyes away, Rielle forced herself to turn and face whatever waited outside, telling herself that it could not be as bad as her final moments would be. Sunlight streamed into the hall, dazzling her. As it had so often before, when she and the temple girls had left after their lessons. As it had the day she’d been abducted by the tainted.

  Sa-Koml’s voice boomed from somewhere close by as he announced her crime and called on the Angels and citizens of Fyre to cast her out. As her eyes adjusted, she saw a crowd watching. That didn’t surprise her, but it was a smaller crowd than she had expected considering how large the one that had followed the abductor had been. How long ago had they heard that a tainted was to be driven from the city? Surely not long. But news spread fast and would soon bring more hecklers.

  The people who stared at her looked more curious than angry, but as they took in her appearance she saw ugly scowls appear, and a chilling kind of glee. She saw herself in their eyes: chained, shorn, partially dressed in rags. Reduced to a shameful sight so that they might imagine they were safe. A reminder of what would happen to them, should they be tempted to steal from the Angels.

  To one side was a small cart and as she saw who stood behind it she shuddered. Sa-Gest’s expression was sober, but his eyes glinted with expectation. She looked away, reminding herself that so long as he was far from Fyre her family and Izare were safe.

  From somewhere Sa-Elem produced a bell and swung it. The sound echoed in the hall behind her and spilled out into the courtyard.

  “Go,” he said.

  Glancing at him, she found him watching her expectantly. The abductor had walked before the priests, she remembered. So must she.