“Look, Papa!” Katerina cried. “Amber gave me a gift.” She displayed the ring proudly.
“I hope you thanked the lady,” Grigori said.
Katerina’s mouth popped open, and she turned. “Thank you, Lady Amber,” she said earnestly.
“You’re welcome, Princess,” Amber said. “I should be going now. I’ve had a lot of fun playing with you.”
“See you at dinner!” Katerina called, turning back to her weeds.
Amber stood and walked back toward the palace, feeling the high lord’s eyes on her back.
10
“Someone to see you, Your Imperial Majesty,” Lord Osker intoned as if speaking a eulogy.
Killian took his eyes off the rows and columns of carefully written figures and closed the book, thankful for the interruption. When he saw who it was, he rose to his feet, grinning.
“Carla. How are you?”
“I am well, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. Lord Osker frowned; she hadn’t hidden the mockery in her tone.
“Please leave us,” Killian said to Osker.
He waited until Osker had left the room. “Not you too.” He sighed in exasperation. “Call me Killian, Carla. I’ll have you on charges if you don’t.”
Carla came forward and they awkwardly embraced. She held his palm a little longer than was necessary, squeezing it as their hands parted.
“Please sit down,” Killian said, indicating the cushioned sofa across from his own. “How did you get past Osker? You haven’t lost your charm. He normally doesn’t let anyone past.”
“Brrr,” Carla said, ignoring Killian’s question. She looked at the cold hearth, occupying an entire wall of the cavernous sitting room. “It’s warm outside. Why is it always cold in your palace?”
“It’s big,” Killian said with a grin.
“If you can’t afford heating stones, surely you can afford a fire?”
“Budget cuts.” Killian laughed.
“You look weary. You need to relax. What are you reading?” She picked up the book and flicked through the pages. “‘Province of Aspar,’” she read, “‘granary stores at seven thousand imperial drams.’ Exciting.”
“Terribly,” Killian said. “How goes the search?”
Carla’s expression grew pained. “A drinking house in the Tenamet is looking for waitresses.”
“Sounds promising.”
“Required skills are dancing, long legs, easy morals, and”—she tapped her long nose—“a pretty face.”
“Don’t say your face isn’t pretty,” Killian said. “I like it just the way it is.”
“I’m not doing that kind of work.” Carla laughed. “Still, I need to do something.”
He was surprised at how easily they’d fallen back into the old repartee. Since her arrival at the palace, their friendship had resumed something of its former shape. Killian had told Carla his story—somewhat abbreviated, with his involvement with the primate left out—and Carla had told him hers.
After her father’s death, she’d finally joined another troupe, but had to leave when the troupe leader’s attentions became . . . forced. She didn’t elaborate much, and Killian didn’t ask her to. He’d kept his secrets, and he couldn’t blame her for keeping hers. The world was a harsh place for someone on her own, and Tingara harsher than most.
“Well, let’s see. You’ve been an actor, an acrobat, and more recently a merchant’s assistant and a helper at a school for spoiled children. Do I have it right?”
Carla grinned. “You do.”
“So you are a lady of many talents. Would you . . . do you want me to get you work?”
“No,” Carla said, lifting her chin. “I can do this on my own.”
“Well said,” Killian said. “Where are you staying?”
“With a friend,” Carla said. “But he says I have to move out. He wants his floor back. He’s been saying it for weeks.”
Killian frowned.
“The expression on your face!” Carla chuckled. “Don’t tell me you don’t like me living with a man. We haven’t seen in each other in how long? What about you? I’ll bet you have a mistress or two tucked away around town, and a special sally gate for sneaking out at night. The privileges of power.” She grinned.
Killian thought immediately of Ella. He banished the image of her heart-shaped face. He found he was getting good at that lately.
“Nothing like that,” Killian said. “To be honest, being emperor takes up all my time. I don’t know who thought of wrapping up high lord of Tingara and leader of the Empire into one position. So what are you going to do? You need to stay somewhere.” Carla sighed and Killian saw real concern cross her face.
Killian hesitated. He could see that Carla needed help. He’d lost a mentor when Marney Beldara was murdered. But she’d lost a father.
“What if I found you rooms here?” Killian said.
Carla glanced up. “You’d do that?”
Killian wondered what his mother would say. “Of course.”
“I’m glad I found you,” Carla said. “Killian Alderon, emperor of Merralya.” She shook her head; then, leaning forward, she kissed Killian’s cheek, and he smelled her perfume, rich and floral. “It would only be until I can find work.”
“For as long as you need it,” Killian said.
“I still can’t believe it,” Carla said, shaking her head. “From orphan of Salvation to emperor. Is it hard?” she asked him frankly.
“Yes.” Killian sighed. “It’s hard.”
“Everyone is talking about an invading army coming from across the Great Western Ocean. Is it true?”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“And there’s a new signaling system so the houses can request aid.”
“You’re well informed,” Killian said.
“It’s hardly a secret. What will you do with the Legion if someone requests aid—say, Altura?”
“Please, Carla, not you too. The fact is, I don’t know. I’m thinking about it.”
“I’m sure you’ll do what’s right. You always were a kind soul. We’re lucky to have you as emperor.”
“A kind soul?” Killian smiled. “I’ve never heard myself referred to like that before.”
“Look at what you’ve done for me,” Carla said.
There was space next to Killian on his sofa, and Carla stood up and moved to sit next to him, curling up on the seat so that her knees touched his thigh. She was very close, and Killian tensed when he once more smelled her perfume. Her raven-black hair shone, pulled back from her oval face but with a few loose strands falling past her eyes.
“Where do you sleep?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to place me close by?”
“I’ll . . . I’ll leave that for the chamberlains to decide,” Killian said.
Carla moistened her lips, and Killian remembered how soft they’d once felt, a long time ago. “I’ll bet you have a huge bed.”
Killian grinned and stood up. “Stay here.”
He strode out of the room and called out, “Lord Osker!”
It didn’t take him long to find the officious steward. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty? Can I be of service?”
Killian led Osker back into the sitting room. “Please find Lady Carla here some chambers. She’s going to be staying in the palace for a time. Please inform the rest of the staff, and have someone fetch her belongings from the city.”
Osker’s eyes flickered to Carla, who clapped her hands together. “Of course. I will see it done,” he said.
Lord Osker left the room, and Killian returned to Carla’s side, leaving some space between them as he sat.
“Lady Carla,” she said. “I like the sound of that.”
A chamberlain entered the room. “Go with him,” Killian said. “He’ll show you to your new chambers.”
Carla again kissed Killian’s cheek, just to the side of his mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I want to talk more and hear more about what yo
u’ve been doing. You’ve changed so much!”
“I suppose we’re both older.”
“Not too much older, I hope?” Carla smiled at him over her shoulder as she followed the chamberlain from the room.
Killian sat for a long time after she’d departed, staring without seeing in the direction she’d gone, and then he heard a throat clear behind him.
Lady Alise, Killian’s mother, stood with her hands on her hips, disapproval written across every line of her face. She was slim and fine boned, and still beautiful despite the gray streaks in her long brown hair. She never followed Tingaran fashion, letting her hair cascade down her back when the other ladies were in curls and foregoing embroidered purple for plain brown dresses.
Lady Alise was a force to be reckoned with in the palace, and even Rogan Jarvish gave her as much time as she asked of him. She’d initially stepped reluctantly into her new role, but Alise now saw it as her duty to keep Killian abreast of the various machinations within the court. She loved Killian fiercely, sometimes in a way that frightened him, but he loved her in return.
“She has nowhere to stay,” Killian protested. Why did he always sound like a whining child when he was with her?
“You don’t know her,” Alise said flatly.
“I’ve told you about what she’s been through. We’re old friends.”
“You haven’t seen her in many years. She left you without a care for your fate.”
Killian scowled. “Mother, we were once very close. I can’t leave her out in the cold. This is my city, and I have a responsibility to everyone who was affected by the war. The economy is shaky—you always say that—and it’s hard for many.”
“Yes, charity is an important part of your mandate,” Alise said, “but focused charity, intended to help the most people with a sustainable solution for their plight. She has her eye on you, my son. I thought your heart was with another.”
Killian flushed. He could still remember Carla’s warmth beside him on the sofa.
“I can’t turn her away,” Killian said. “She needs my help. It’s only temporary.”
“Be careful. That’s all I ask. You need to know those you trust to their core. You are the emperor, but you are young and inexperienced. I have seen the way Ella looks at you. Think well before you break her heart.”
With a final stern look, Killian’s mother turned and left him.
Killian watched her go, and then wondered where Carla’s new chambers were.
He could still smell perfume in his nostrils.
11
The Academy of Enchanters in Sarostar was the scene of intense activity. A series of buildings that clustered around the Great Court, with an archway at one end of the Court facing the Green Tower at the other, the Academy was grand in a way the Crystal Palace could never be. Where the palace was ethereal, the Academy was solid. The Crystal Palace was a place of beauty, a demonstration of the things enchantment could do. In contrast, powerful works of lore came out of the Academy. Lore was serious business, and this place demanded it be treated as such.
At noon, springtime in Altura, the glow of runes in the Great Court competed with the bright light of the sun. The workshops of the masters and qualified enchanters were busy, but not as frantic as the grassy expanse at the Academy’s heart.
The things being built in the Great Court were too big for any workshop. This lore was too dangerous to be confined.
Enchanters, assisted by their students, constructed zenblades, armorsilk, rail bows, and runebombs. By a strict designation, the faculty demanded there be significant distance between the workbenches, for both access and safety, yet no space was as clear as where Ella worked in the very center.
Ella was sad to see the centurion trees all gone, but once the decision was made to utilize the Great Court with its ideal location, they’d all been cleared away. One day new trees might grow, but they would take hundreds of years to reach the majestic beauty of their ancestors. As a student Ella had sat under the shade of the centurion trees, reading and learning. She’d made friends with Amber here, and this was where her brother had watched her graduate. When Tomas was poisoned, Ella had passed under the tall branches to pray to the statue of Evora Guinestor, still sternly watching the activity below from her lofty height. The centurion trees were gone, but even so, Ella felt at home here more than at any other place.
Ella stood with Luca Angelo, a Halrana animator, beside his colossus. The gigantic construct, as tall as the buildings around it, slumped dejectedly, deactivated. Beside the colossus, resting on a long bench at waist height, was a sword.
The length of three men, it was single-edged and sharp as a razor. The runes Ella had drawn would make it sharper still, as well as lighter, harder to see, and capable of burning with fiery energy. It wasn’t a single-activation sword; this lore would need regular chanting from an expert. Miro had told Ella that Luca was one of the best, and it was time for Ella to find out whether Luca was up to the challenge of controlling both the colossus and the sword simultaneously.
“Are you ready?” Ella said.
Besider her, Luca took a deep breath. “I’m ready.” His voice shook.
“Remember, we’re just here to grasp the sword and pick it up. Nothing more.”
Luca let out his breath with a whoosh, making his dark locks shake. “I know.”
“Enchantress.” A voice sounded at Ella’s elbow. Turning, she saw High Enchanter Merlon, looking stern in a sparkling robe decorated with a myriad of spidery symbols. “Please perform your test away from the rest of us. Do I make myself clear?”
Ella fought the urge to groan. “High Enchanter,” she said, “how do you propose to move the sword? It’s as heavy as . . .”—she looked around for inspiration—“as heavy as a block of iron the length of three men! I just need to make this simple test. When the colossus can carry the sword, we can move down to the fields.”
High Enchanter Merlon, a plump and usually jovial man with shaggy eyebrows, grunted. He finally turned and walked away, muttering and shaking his head.
Ella was actually eager to get to the fields, where she and Luca could give the colossus its first real test. At least Ella didn’t have to worry about the crystal trees, as sad as that was. The small grove of rare glossy trees in the fields below the Academy was gone. The constant explosions and ground-trembling quakes had shaken all their shards to the ground. The crystal trees died soon after.
“It’s all right,” Ella reassured the young animator. “Go ahead.”
Luca looked up at the colossus and called out. The slumped construct came to life, symbols glowing and sparking, spiraling out from its chest in a multitude of colors: crimsons, blues, emeralds, and golds. The colossus straightened, and when Luca named a second series of activations, it went down to one knee and lowered its head.
The cage on top was open, and Luca climbed the ridges on the leg, walked along the bent knee, and nimbly jumped up to the shoulder. He pulled himself into the cage, seating himself on a fixed stool and touching the tablet in front of him. The colossus once more stood tall.
Ella was mindful of the enchanters who’d stopped working and now watched. There were fifty paces of cleared space around the colossus, but she still saw one or two onlookers take several steps back.
Animator Luca touched the tablet and chanted in a sonorous tone. The colossus opened a fist and reached for the hilt of the sword.
In one swift motion the huge manufactured creature made of iron and wood picked up the sword and held it high.
Ella felt a surge of excitement run through her. Throwing all caution to the wind, she pointed at one of the gaps in the enchanters’ workbenches. “Head to the fields! That way!” she cried.
As eager as Ella, Luca took his colossus with bold strides through the gap, sending enchanters dashing to either side. The ground trembled with each step, and Ella spurred herself into motion, chasing the colossus through the grand archway and in the direction of the fields. The colossus sw
iftly outpaced her, and she stopped to watch.
“I wonder that you even need my help,” Ella heard a voice behind her say.
Whirling, Ella saw an old man with gray hair flecked with ginger and a soft beard. His eyes were kind and colored an intense, vivid blue.
“Evrin!” Ella said. She grabbed hold of him and hugged him.
“Careful, dear,” Evrin said. “I’m an old man.”
“Hold on a moment,” Ella said. “Luca!” she cried. “Luca!”
The animator didn’t hear her. He was busy taking huge swings at the air, joyfully waving the sword like a child playing at soldier. At least he hadn’t tried to activate the blade.
“I don’t think he can hear you,” Evrin said.
Ella laughed. “It doesn’t matter. It looks like he’s enjoying himself. Did you just arrive now?”
“Just this very moment.” Evrin rolled his shoulder to show the ragged knapsack on his back.
“Here, let me show you around. I can explain what we’re doing here, and then we can find you some rooms. Would you rather stay here or at the palace?”
“Wherever you need me,” Evrin said.
“I’m staying here at the Academy, in the Green Tower. It’s comfortable in there. You’ll like it.”
“Ella!” Ella heard High Enchanter Merlon’s voice calling her name.
“Quick, let’s go. Here, let me carry your bag,” Ella said.
Ella led Evrin around the outside of the buildings, skirting the Great Court at first, not wanting to re-enter so soon after her dramatic departure. She asked Evrin about his journey and then told him about her voyage to Agira Lahsa.
“How is Killian?” Ella asked.
“He’s well. Extremely busy. I have taught him enough, I think, and if I showed him more, he would have too much to practice and likely be proficient at none of it.”
“Can he stand up to Sentar Scythran?”
Evrin shook his head. “There is no way of knowing. He was always powerful, Sentar, and extremely cunning.”
The Lore Of The Evermen (Book 4) Page 9