Crimson Fury (Magic of Isskasala Book 2)

by Mirren Hogan

  She blinked, startled out of her thoughts.

  “Yes, there was a strange smell about her. I couldn’t work it out at first, but I know now.”

  “Well,” Gowah prompted, frowning at her.

  Tabia glanced at him and then back to Sevele. “She smelled like wet dirt. Like how it smells after a rain, or if a garden has been watered.”

  “How is that relevant?” Gowah demanded.

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure it is, but it seemed odd.”

  Sevele nodded and moved on. “And she mentioned the well?”

  Everyone else seated around the table started at that. Every face turned toward Tabia, some curious, some even a little fearful.

  “Yes. She said she needed to bathe in the well. That it’d make her alive again.” It was an odd choice of words, but children weren’t always precise.

  “Did she happen to mention where this well was?” Gowah asked, looking sceptical.

  “As a matter of fact, she did,” Tabia replied evenly. “It’s in Iljosk.” Or so she’d told her once she’d shown her face.

  The assembly room was immediately in an uproar.

  “Why would it be there?” one sorcerer demanded. Gowah muttered something about slums, and even Dafil looked sceptical.

  Only Sevele looked unperturbed. He sat back in his chair and waited for the excited discussion to die down. Tabia wished she had half his stoicism. She wanted to be able to sit back and be unconcerned that most of the assembly wouldn’t have believed her no matter what she’d said. If there was such a thing as the well and it was the source of magic, they’d likely prefer it be located somewhere more noble, like Dassane itself. Or to be more accurate—not in the place Tabia had come from. How much of that factored into their thinking was obvious from the derisive looks some shot her. Did they really think she’d name her home city if the queen hadn’t done so?

  She had little desire to return beyond curiosity about the fate of her father. She’d been away for over ten years. Was he still alive? And her friend Tanatu, he was probably married and a father by now. Her magic would probably send him running for cover. He’d always found it unnerving, even when she was just learning it existed. If she’d known then what she knew now, she’d have felt a lot less hurt. Untamed magic was dangerous. Realistically, all magic was dangerous, but now she could control it.

  She looked around the table at the sorcerers gathered there. One by one they were realising that Sevele was waiting for them to settle. Some had the grace to look abashed. Sevele could have called them to order, but he’d waited as though they were children in a classroom and he was their long-suffering but patient teacher. Each of them should know better than to act in an unruly manner.

  Several, including Gowah, didn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. The big man was eyeing Sevele and Tabia and looked ready to shout them both down, given the opportunity. Hopefully Sevele wouldn’t give him one.

  “All right,” Sevele said slowly, his voice just loud enough to reach around the table, deep enough to command attention. “We have to consider the possibility that the well is indeed in Iljosk.” He raised his hand as the muttering resumed briefly. “I acknowledge the possibility that the magula was mistaken, especially in light of the fact that it, or one of its kind, killed two of our own and attacked Tabia.”

  He paused for more muttering before continuing. “We must also bear in mind that such a creature might have an ulterior motive for sending us in the opposite direction of the well itself.”

  “Or there is no well and she’s just making it all up,” Gowah blurted, evidently unable to hold himself back any longer. “Who’s to say it even exists?”

  “I’ve spent many hours looking through the libraries,” Sevele replied evenly. “both here and at the university. While I have yet to find any reference to the whereabouts of the well, I’ve read several references to its existence, mostly from the older works. I trust you’re familiar with Drancun?”

  He looked down his nose at Gowah in a way that made Tabia have to suppress a laugh. Drancun was a historian who had lived two hundred years earlier. He’d travelled extensively, taking notes and compiling the histories of the peoples of Isskasala. Granted his work was a little wild, including references to a cave of dragons in southern Chaq, but he was generally regarded as the father of the study of history, and the foremost authority on Isskasala. His work had been translated into every language on the continent and used to bore every child lucky enough to be educated and every apprentice who studied at the guild hall.

  Suggesting that Gowah might be unfamiliar with him was ludicrous and mildly insulting. Coming from Sevele, however, the man couldn’t retaliate without consequences, so he took to glaring at Tabia as though she’d spoken instead.

  “Drancun mentions the well, albeit only briefly.” Sevele looked around the table. “Something about sorcerers fighting to take possession of it. Nothing about who these sorcerers were, or who won. No, I don’t think we can be in any doubt about its existence, and the magula has given this only clue about a possible whereabouts.”

  “Tabia.” He turned to her. “You offered to give her magic, to assist her survival?”

  “I did,” she replied. “But after she showed me her face, she reverted to shadow form and the next thing I knew she was gone. I don’t know if she intends to take up the offer. She might—” She hesitated.

  “She might take it from any one of us instead.” The horrified look on Gowah’s face did nothing to amuse her this time. The magula may have attacked Genari without realising she had magic and killed Benassi through a lack of control, but it might also have been out of malice. Tabia had a hard time believing that, but if the magula went after someone like Gowah, who would strike without thinking, then he might not survive the encounter.

  “If I could find her, maybe I could help, but . . . ” She shrugged. Darai, with his ability to spirit drift, might have been able to help, but he was gone, Zuleso only knew where.

  Sevele nodded. “We can’t worry about that now. What we need to be concerned with is the well.” He gave Tabia a look which made her heart sink.

  “I want you to go to Iljosk and look. A few others will accompany you; Harshal—” He looked toward Gowah but shook his head slightly. “Ezeji, you go.”

  Ezeji didn’t look pleased at the idea, but he pursed his lips and nodded. “Very well.”

  “And you may take what help you think you need,” Sevele added.

  Tabia took that as a thinly veiled permission to take Isobel with her, maybe Adina too. The girl was scared, she’d be safer away from the hall for now. Hopefully they all would.

  CHAPTER 29

  “Oh good, I’ve always wanted to go to Iljosk,” Harshal remarked, tossing another Chaqian prune into his mouth. “You make it sound so inviting.”

  If he kept eating prunes like that, Tabia wasn’t sure he’d be pleasant to travel with at all. Not that the man didn’t seem to have a stomach like a cast-iron cook pot, but he might be underestimating the strength of this variety of prune. Whatever the Chaqians did to them, they’d unblock anyone in a matter of an hour or two, and Harshal had eaten several already.

  When he reached for another, she raised an eyebrow at him.

  “What?” He picked up the prune and shrugged before eating it. “They taste good,” he said, his voice muffled by the food inside.

  “So does chakleti, but if I ate it the way you’re eating those, I wouldn’t fit through the door.”

  “Yes, Mother.” He grinned at her.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Now I know why you followed me out of Vanmala; you wanted a mother-figure.”

  He chuckled. “You caught me, but admit it, you always wanted a little boy just like me.”

  That made her laugh. “I’m the last one who would ever want children. And you—” she shook a finger at him, “—would test my patience to its limit.” Beside the fact that he wasn’t that much younger than her anyway.

  “You kn
ow you love me.” He ate another prune while Tabia laughed again.

  “What is so funny?” Isobel asked, stepping through the open doorway.

  Lit up by a shaft of sunlight from a nearby window, her hair shone that shade of yellow Tabia found so enticing. Her blue eyes only looked a shade darker than the sky, although she often kept them down. She hadn’t been a slave for years, but a lifetime of being owned had ingrained the habit.

  Tabia smiled softly. “Harshal was just telling me how wonderful he is. His skills in exaggeration are unequalled.”

  “As are my other skills,” Harshal said, unperturbed. “I’m surprised the guild is letting me leave, invaluable as I am.”

  “And modest,” Tabia added.

  “That too.”

  Isobel frowned. “I thought the guild was sending you away?” As much time as she’d spent in Tabia’s company, she still didn’t quite grasp her sense of humour, or Harshal’s. His in particular seemed to mystify her, which of course he generally found hilarious.

  Tabia laughed at the expression on his face. “Ay, they are,” she agreed. “The farther the better, I’m sure.”

  Harshal feigned offence. “You two are enough to put any man in his grave.”

  Isobel looked ashamed. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  Tabia moved to put an arm around her. “He’s just joking. You know him, he’s a silly man.”

  She looked over at Harshal, who stuck his tongue out at her. “You can make it up to me if you like,” he offered, his eyes twinkling.

  “No,” Tabia replied, knowing exactly what he was referring to. The intimacy she and Isobel shared wasn’t a spectacle, nor was it an object of amusement or conversation. Trying to make it either was the quickest way to spoil her mood.

  “Fine.” He sighed. “So, are you packed?”

  Tabia glanced at Isobel, who nodded. Being neither a slave nor a hired worker, Isobel had made a place for herself at the hall as Tabia’s right hand. Although she could clean for herself, Isobel had insisted, claiming it made her useful. In return, Tabia had arranged for the hall to pay her a small stipend, most of which remained unspent. After a lifetime of not owning anything, Isobel had learned to be frugal and get by with two or three simple outfits and sturdy boots or sandals. In spite of that, she always looked immaculate.

  “Tabia said we’ll be travelling light, so I’ve just packed a few things in our bags.”

  No doubt she’d spent time deliberating just how much she could get away with packing for Tabia. Her things would outnumber Isobel’s by a good margin, and she knew it wasn’t worth arguing over. Isobel would insist that this was the way it should be, and Tabia would give in, unable and unwilling to deny her lover anything. Perhaps someday she’d come to view them as equals and stop thinking of the sorceress as her saviour.

  “Thank you, Isobel.” Tabia smiled. “Harshal, are you bringing Saniyah?”

  The surprise on his face was priceless.

  “H-how did you— “ He stammered. He wasn’t often lost for words, so when he was, even Isobel smiled.

  “Everyone knows,” the yellow-haired woman said. “You were not so sneaky this time, eh?” She shook a finger at him.

  “Who me, sneaky?” His attempt to regain some sense of dignity fell flat in the face of Tabia’s laughter.

  “You’re as subtle as a wyrm in heat,” she told him. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

  He pouted at her, but shook his head. “She’d just hold me back.”

  “She said no,” Tabia said to Isobel, who nodded.

  “She’s wiser than I thought.”

  Tabia wasn’t sure if Isobel was joking, but she laughed softly anyway. “Yes she is,” she agreed. “Now to serious matters. I’ve sent word to Larafa that we’re looking for a ship to take us south to Iljosk.”

  Harshal groaned. “Why?” Ever since the ship they’d sailed from Vanmala to Isskasala had been attacked by sea serpents and Satsuko had drowned, he’d been averse to sea travel. Vocally so. He swore loudly that he’d never set foot on another vessel, unless it was the barge that took him to the eternal pleasures of the afterlife.

  Truthfully, Tabia wasn’t looking forward to it either. Her sea voyages largely consisted of near drowning, or being chained up as a slave. None were pleasant memories, or ones she’d wish to repeat. However, in this case, time was short and they had to move quickly.

  “Because it’s too far to walk,” she replied evenly, “or to levitate you all. However if you keep eating those prunes, you could probably fly us all there.”

  Harshal snorted. “Don’t tempt me to eat more, or I’ll be a horrible cabin-mate.”

  “You’re not sharing a cabin with us anyway.”

  Harshal paused for a moment, then sighed. “You’re making me share with Ezeji, aren’t you? I’ve heard he snores like a Mindossan river cow.”

  “What do Mindossan river cows sound like?” Isobel asked.

  Harshal closed his eyes and made a sound like a milk-cow having her udder bitten by a dog.

  Isobel laughed. “I’m sure he cannot be that bad!”

  “Harshal has no idea what a Mindossan river cow sounds like,” Tabia said with a laugh. “But he’ll deal with Ezeji and his snoring, won’t you Harshal?”

  “The things I do for the guild.” He sighed loudly. “Fine, I’ll share with him, and I’ll even sail, but if we sink and I’m eaten by sea serpents, I’ll have my shade haunt you forever.”

  “Ay, your shade would be too lazy to bother,” Tabia retorted. “And too full of prunes not to levitate away. Now, have you packed?” She looked meaningfully at Harshal.

  “I have,” he said, gesturing toward a bag on the floor at his feet.

  Tabia hadn’t noticed it before. It was a little worn and appeared oddly water-stained, but it seemed sturdy enough. “Did you make that out of river cow?” she asked, smiling slyly.

  “I’ll never tell.” He picked up the bag and swung it onto his back. “Are we really taking Adina?”

  “I thought we should, after all we’ve put her through,” Tabia replied. “Besides, she might be useful, and I’ve sent a message for Kwame to meet us in Larafa. He can train her while we travel.”

  “Oh good, he can share with Ezeji,” Harshal said cheerfully.

  Tabia rolled her eyes behind his back. “Speaking of Ezeji, he’s probably outside waiting for us.” She picked up her own bag and waited for Isobel to do the same. She wondered what she was leading her lover into, but she wasn’t about to leave her behind. They could be gone for months, maybe even a year. In the back of her mind she knew there was a possibility they may never come back. Isskasala was a dangerous place, especially with magula on the loose. It might have proven to be more or less harmless to her during their last encounter, but that was one magula, and one meeting. This journey could reveal more of them. Zuleso only knew how many.

  “I think we should avoid referring directly to the well,” she said as they made their way down the stairs. “It’s possible we’d be overheard and followed.” There could be others, not just the magula, who might wish to know its whereabouts.

  “What do we call it then?” Isobel asked.

  “River cow?” Harshal grinned.

  Tabia snorted. “I’ll feed you to the river cows if you don’t behave.”

  He displayed his maturity by making a rude gesture with his thumb. “You wouldn’t dare,” he added.

  “She might not, but I would if you don’t start acting in a manner fitting a sorcerer of this guild,” Ezeji said from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Your threats don’t scare me, old man,” Harshal said and slapped him on the back.

  “That was no threat,” Ezeji said darkly. He gave Tabia a look which clearly showed his displeasure at having to travel with Harshal. He wasn’t especially fond of her either. The feeling was mutual, but they’d have to work together, for the good of each other and the guild.

  “Is Afruen coming, Ezeji?” Tabia asked p
olitely. She knew the relationship was a new one and Afruen an affable man. He and Ezeji would be a curious match.

  Ezeji flushed slightly. “We decided he should stay here and work with the apprentices,” he replied stiffly. “Hopefully this won’t take too long.”

  “Hopefully,” she agreed. She looked around as Adina came clattering down the stairs with a bag, presumably packed with clothes supplied by the hall “It looks like we’re ready to go.” She smiled at the young apprentice and nodded toward the doorway that lead to the front of the hall. A carriage pulled by a pair of the hall’s horses waited outside to take them to Larafa. It was nothing fancy; that would make them stand out more than they already did.

  She climbed inside and made room beside her for Isobel and Adina. Ezeji sat opposite them and Harshal must have climbed up beside the driver.

  She heard him chatting about the weather and some woman who walked past, but she knew his tone too well. He was nervous about this journey. She was too. Sevele and the rest of the guild were relying on them. If there was a well, the guild needed to know as soon as possible, so they could move to help the magula to reach it. The weight of this charge was heavy, but they’d also need to be discreet, to avoid panic that might arise should ordinary civilians learn about the potential threat lurking in the city.

  She’d been sent because she wasn’t senior on the assembly. If Sevele had sent one of them, or gone himself, it’d draw more notice. Ezeji’s inclusion might well suggest he lacked importance, at least to him, but they’d need his skills in the coming days. Still, she wished Sevele had assigned them an army, just in case.

  For a moment she considered telling Adina and Isobel to get out of the carriage and stay behind, but then it was rolling, and the moment passed.

  She turned to look out the window as they pulled away from the hall. For a moment she thought she saw a face watching from an upper level window, but it was gone before she could focus on it. She dismissed it as nothing. Any number of people had good reason to look out windows at any given time.

  She sat back in her seat and tried to relax.