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The Sapphire Flute

Page 21

by Karen E. Hoover


  “Huh.”

  She watched Aldarin from beneath her lashes as he caught his lip in his teeth and examined her. How he would puzzle out her identity, she didn’t know, but she was sure he would if he had enough time with her. He hadn’t become captain of Ezeker’s guard merely because of his ability to lead—he was smart and very observant. She tried not to shrink under his gaze, though it was difficult. More than anything she wanted to throw herself into his arms and confess the truth, but she couldn’t take the chance. She hadn’t seen Ian, but she was sure he would arrive before long. Ember scuffed her boots in the ash and waited for the guard to call her forward again.

  “Who?” Shad asked in mindspeech.

  “Aldarin. Brother,” she answered, and at his confused look, clarified, “stepbrother.”

  Ezeker saved her from Aldarin’s questioning when he turned and walked across the clearing to Paeder’s boxy wagon. He opened the door and spoke to someone inside. Aldarin followed with a shake of his head and a final questioning glance in Ember’s direction. She tried hard to appear as if she wasn’t aware of every step he took.

  Shad chuckled, but it had an edge to it.

  “All right, who’s next?” the man at the table called.

  “I’ll be right back,” Shad whispered. She felt him leave and someone step into line behind her.

  She paid very little attention as she checked in with the guard at the table and received instruction on the mage trials and a cloth bag containing all orientation material, as well as food chits. Ember turned to go, still examining the contents of the bag, when she ran smack into a very hard stomach. She looked up in surprise, her hat hitting the dirt about the same time her jaw fell open in shock.

  Ian had been standing behind her all this time. She stared, searching her brain for anything to say, but all she could do was stare at him and stammer. “Sorry, so sorry, sir. My apologies.”

  “That’s fine, boy,” he said with a smile, though his eyes remained hard and cold. Ember backed away and reached for her hat, her sleeve pulling back to expose the bracelets Shad had made just that morning. In a flash Ian took hold of her hand and examined the workmanship. Ember’s heart had raced earlier, but now it froze at his grip. She didn’t dare even breathe, though her eyes frantically searched for Uncle Shad in the throng that surrounded her.

  “Where’d you get these?” he asked, suspicion lacing his gravelly voice.

  “A-a- boy on the road made them, sir. Bought ’em off him just this morning. Said he was goin’ to make a fortune at the trials, he did.” Ember scrambled for the first thing that popped into her head and hoped he bought her story.

  Ian snorted. “Slave bracelets? You bought slave bracelets from a vendor? Why would anyone want those?” His eyes seemed to see right through her.

  “Slave bracelets? They’re just pretties, sir.” Ember shrugged and raised her hand, pretending to examine the workmanship while watching Ian from beneath her lashes. Pretties? Oh, that was just brilliant, Ember. She groaned inwardly. He was going to figure out the truth for sure.

  The man squinted at her and pursed his lips, then leaned close and spoke quietly. “I’ll check out your story, but if you’re who I think you are, I’ll find you.”

  It took everything she had not to run right then. Instead she schooled her expression into confused terror, which wasn’t too far off from what she really felt. How could he sense the fear and deceit in her? The man must have some kind of gift. She remembered the night he’d taken her, and how he’d known her heart rate and seen her teeth in the dark.

  “Sir, they’re just pretties. Please, can I have my hand back?” She trembled, but hoped it added to her disguise rather than exposing her. Ian gave her one last searching look before letting go. “Bah! Off with you, boy. I’ll be seeing you again, I’m sure.”

  Ember scrambled to the end of the line of people waiting to use the transportation pipes. She had never seen anything like it. Where were the stairs? Ladders? A path leading down the cliffside? Anything had to be better than the suicidal ride before her. A large pipe gaped before her, a dark opening that looked more like a mouth waiting to eat her than anything else. Her turn was coming up fast, and Uncle Shad had not returned. The girl in front of her took a running start and dove into the darkness, squealing.

  Ember turned her back on the pipe and scanned the clearing for Shad, but there was still no sign of him or DeMunth.

  “This way, sir,” a young guard said, taking her by the elbow.

  She pulled back. “I’m waiting for my uncle. It’s okay, I can wait.” He beckoned her forward and patted a large rug that was placed on a smooth, flattened area before the pipe. “He’ll meet you at the bottom, I’m sure. Sit here, lean back, and have fun. This is the best part of the journey. You’ll see,” he said, grinning at her like the youth he was. It reminded her a bit of Tiva’s lopsided smile, and suddenly she missed him. It surprised her. She hadn’t missed the twins while they were gone to school, but now she did. She didn’t want to think about it.

  Besides, her brothers were on the way down to Javak as well. She’d seen their horses led away as Paeder’s bed was lowered down the side of the cliff. She might even run across them at some point, though they wouldn’t know her from a stranger.

  Ember looked around one last time, then realized her real identity would be revealed pretty quickly if she didn’t stop acting like a girl. She sat on the rug, legs extended, with her small satchel resting in her lap. She clutched it impulsively as the boy got behind her and, with no warning whatsoever, shoved her forward. She flew through the gaping hole and screamed as the bottom dropped from beneath her. She knew it didn’t sound masculine to scream, but she couldn’t help herself—it just burst out as her stomach sank and she flew down the pipe, twisting and spinning and bumping her head on every turn. It was a long spiral, down, down, down. Ember rocked back and forth around the tunnel as she slid forever toward the ground, seeming to defy gravity—and then it occurred to her that the trip might be easier if she lay back. Immediately her pace increased, though she was better able to steer herself. That marginal feeling of control allowed her body to relax. She was almost enjoying the ride when, suddenly, she was upside down and falling feet first out of the pipe, where she stopped, half-way to the ground. Ember looked around at the laughing faces as she hung in midair.

  One of the men reached out a hand, and Ember gladly took it. He pulled gently on her arm, and she floated to him as if she were a skater gliding on ice. It was a rather odd feeling, as if the air itself had thickened to hold her weight, and it was only that which held her down. It seemed that at any moment she might just float away like a magic carpet. But the farther she got from the opening, the more she sank to the ground, her body regaining its weight. She had never been so grateful to feel dirt beneath her feet.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said breathlessly to the handsome ruffian who had helped her.

  “Not a problem, boy, not a problem at all. Happy to oblige a new candidate.”

  She was saved from further conversation by familiar voices coming from the space behind her, though still completely within her head, continuing the conversation they’d had for the past hour. She had tuned it out shortly after they began talking about vortexes and wavering power lines. It made no sense to her.

  “I tell you, someone is playing with the mage lines, for the power to go out in the area like it has. An eruption alone would not be enough to draw that much to it. Someone has been feeding that mountain and disabled most of the spells in the area,” DeMunth ranted.

  “Oh, hush for a bit, Munth. We can talk about it later,” Ember’s uncle responded.

  DeMunth snorted, though whether in laughter or disgust, Ember wasn’t sure. Once the two men had their feet on the ground, Shad took charge.

  “Come on then, let’s get you to the council house.” Uncle Shad propelled her forward with a hand he quickly dropped from the small of her back.

  “The council house? What�
��s that?” she asked.

  “It’s home for the next few days. Not exactly my idea of a comforting cave, but one does have to make sacrifices.” Shad laughed as he led her and DeMunth westward.

  The town was set up in a grid. They wandered down the avenues created by the stores and vendor stalls. Most of the stores were actually canvas or silk tents—temporary storefronts that could travel wherever business was best. There was a carnival atmosphere here. People dressed in bright and bold colors, with gauzy veils and shawls for the women, colorful vests and knee-high boots for the men. And hats. Many, many hats. Tall hats, brimmed hats, pointed and round hats. There were caps, and turbans, and a little beanie hat that barely covered the top of one gentleman’s oversized head. It made Ember smile. The place was a cacophony of sight and sound as they made their way due west, with vendors calling and laughter bubbling as people browsed.

  The scent of roasting pig, sausage rolls, and fruit pies assailed Ember’s nose. Her stomach growled in protest. Last night’s rabbit dinner had been long ago, and she found herself suddenly famished. She was also penniless and not about to ask her uncle for money after all he’d used up making her bracelet. Breakfast would have to wait.

  Most of the people wandering the streets seemed to be there more to experience the sight, tastes, and smells than for any real business. Ember’s mother would have called them “rubber-eyed” because they bounced from place to place and never bothered to settle. Marda hated how people wasted their time like that, as she had lost many an afternoon presenting horses to potential buyers who browsed the stalls just for entertainment. Ember could understand a small measure of her mother’s feelings, seeing desperate vendors who were consistently passed by.

  Seeing them reminded her of the conversation with Ian. “Uh, Uncle? Can I talk to you about something?”

  “Certainly,” he said, obviously distracted as he scanned the booths to both sides, then stepped to the nearest food vendor and purchased three turkey legs and a large bowl full of vegetables. Ember’s mouth watered as he handed her a portion, but she didn’t eat.

  “This is serious. Can we stop for a second?”

  Shad cocked an eyebrow, but nodded. She and DeMunth followed as he stepped between two tents and turned to face them.

  “Speak, but quickly, please. If we’re to get decent rooms, we must hurry to the council house before it fills up. I don’t know about you, but I’d like a private shower.”

  Ember’s skin began to itch at the mention of a shower, so she spoke fast. “I literally ran into Ian up there, and he saw the cuffs.” She relayed her conversation with Ian, finishing with, “I said the boy was planning to make a fortune selling his ‘pretties’ at the trials, and Ian would be able to find a booth selling them.” Ember watched as Shad’s eyes widened.

  “You told him you got them from a vendor? They’d be sold here?” She overheard him processing in his head how long it would take to make enough bracelets to sell at a place like this. DeMunth laughed out loud. Shad’s eyes flashed, rueful.

  “I’m sorry. It just popped out before I had a chance to think. What are we going to do?” Ember pulled at her lip in agitation.

  Shad dragged a hand down his face, his stubble scratching with sound, then nodded. “We might be able to use this to our advantage. If people start to buy and wear the bracelets, even if we further change your appearance, he will be less suspicious. Besides, it will grow our monies as well. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of it. Is that it?”

  Ember nodded, relieved her uncle wasn’t mad at her for messing things up.

  “What magics have you manifested yet? Any of the orange?” he asked, taking Ember completely by surprise.

  “Orange? There’s orange magic?”

  Shad sighed and shook his head. “Your education has been decidedly lacking, my dear.”

  Ember blushed, but laughed. He was right.

  The issue of Ian and the bracelets resolved, Ember finally dug into the food that Shad provided, her stomach thanking her for the sustenance. The three of them left the privacy of the alley and made their way toward the large building Ember had spotted from the top of the cliff. She could smell the water in the air as they got closer to the western wall of the Javak shelf, and by the time they left the alley of tents, the sound of a waterfall greeted her ears like nature’s music.

  As they stepped clear of the buildings, Ember’s mouth dropped open in awe at the sight before her. The largest building she had ever seen thrust up from the water, like an island reaching for the sky. It was U-shaped, with the base of the U facing the cliff and the sides nudging against the rock face. The building looked to be made of light-colored stone with marbled streaks of pale and dark blue slashing through it. The stone was beautiful, but it was not what caught Ember’s breath. The thing that held her was the waterfall that leaped and tumbled down the sheer side of the mountain and, with a thunderous roar, poured into the building itself. It was the most amazing thing she had ever seen.

  A bird screamed overhead. She glanced up, stunned to see the white hawk from Karsholm circling over what appeared to be the council house. There was no doubt in her mind it was the same bird. It was the only white hawk she had ever seen or heard of. Somehow magic marked the hawk. How else could all the color have been bleached from it? Shivers flowed over her. Was it following her? For a moment, she wanted to be afraid, wondering if perhaps it was through the bird C’Tan had found her, but true fear would not come. The bird always seemed to be nearby, but it had never harmed her, not once. It seemed more of a guardian than anything.

  A deep growl came from the right. Ember glanced over in time to see a dog staring at Uncle Shad, teeth bared and hackles up. She stopped, heartbeat jumping to high speed once more.

  Shad snorted. “Stupid dog. They catch the scent of wolf and go into defensive mode.” He stopped and glared at the animal, a growl coming to his own throat that sounded strangely canine for his human form. The dog’s head lowered, but it held its ground. A man came up behind the animal and scratched its head, a menacing smile creeping across his face. He turned to speak to someone behind him.

  Ember caught just a glimpse of Ian stepping into the alley before Shad grabbed her arm none too gently and guided her toward the council house. “Come on. Let’s get you someplace out of sight before he verifies your identity. We need that booth set up soon to get him off your trail.”

  Ember nearly ran across the floating path and into the council house.

  As they stepped through the double doors, a flowery man greeted them from behind a massive desk. He was all movement and bobbing, like a sunflower in the breeze. “Welcome to the council house, Councilor White Shadow,” the man said, stepping around the corner and bowing to Uncle Shad. Councilor DeMunth.”

  “And how are you faring, Siedow?” Shad asked, extending his hand to the houseman as if what happened outside was of no matter.

  “Doing well, thank you.” The man took Shad’s hand with his fingertips. “And you?”

  “Fine, indeed.” Shad released his hand. “Might you have some rooms available?”

  “Certainly, councilors. Follow me, please.”

  Ember’s mind was still trying to wrap around the implications of what their greeter had said. Her feet seemed to have rooted to the ground, and everyone had taken several steps before she was able to catch her breath enough to follow them. They were councilors. Uncle Shad and DeMunth were part of the Mage Council? That knowledge completely pushed aside her worry about Ian and the dog.

  She shook her head as she trailed behind them. This explained a lot about their business here, but made her feel rather insignificant. And how did a shapeshifting wolf and a mute ex-priest end up on the Mage Council, anyhow? No wonder they had brought her to the council house. This really was their home away from home. Ember felt smaller with each step she took. What was she doing here?

  Their greeter and guide walked very lightly, with a swish to his hips and fluttery hands. He seemed everythin
g a good houseman should be—gentle, soft-spoken, and he had an excellent memory, as shown by remembering Uncle Shad and DeMunth’s names.

  The houseman led them to two rooms at the end of the south wing, one right next to the other. “I apologize, but we are out of rooms with a private bath, though the public bath is certainly available. Will that be a problem?” He looked at Shad and DeMunth, completely ignoring Ember. She shrank a little further into herself.

  ‘Uh, no,” Shad said, glancing at Ember apologetically. “We’ll manage, thank you. This is my nephew, Emben. Might you have a guest room available for him?”

  Siedow examined Ember, his head cocked to the side as he pursed his lips and looked her up and down. She fought the blush that sprang to her cheeks. The man noticed and smiled, not unkindly. “I believe we have room just down the hall. Here for the trials?”

  Shad nodded, and Siedow’s smile grew.

  “Wonderful! Follow me then, Emben. We’ll get you settled in no time.” The man moved off without giving her a moment to say goodbye. She glanced nervously at Shad. He nodded and motioned for her to follow. “I’ll meet up with you later. Don’t worry, we’ll find you a bath.”

  Ember nodded, and in no time at all had come to her own room. It was small, but very nice, with intricate wood carving on the bedposts, mirror frame, and around the door.

  “Do not lose this,” the man said emphatically, and touched the satchel she still held from registration. He took it from her hands, opened it, and dumped the contents on the bed. He separated them: a map, a timepiece, her meal tickets and store chits, paper and a charcoal stick, and a clear, flat stone. He held the last up to her.

  “This is the most important item in your bag, Emben. All your messages and summons will come through this stone. It can vibrate, speak, and even write messages in its depths. Always keep it with you. The time for your trial will come quickly, with very little notice, and there are no second chances here. You make it to your assigned trial, or they send you home.”

 

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