“Really?” said the clerk with a sigh before gesturing with one hand. “Show me.”
Tianne was already drawing attention to herself. The clerk had stopped moving down the line and people wanted to know who was causing the delay. People were turning around to look back at her. “Here on the street?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we go somewhere more private?”
The clerk ran a hand through his thinning grey hair and folded his arms. “Here. Now. Or I’ll have you whipped for wasting my time.”
Taking a deep breath Tianne tried to slow the frantic beating of her heart. She could feel everyone staring but there was no choice. Embracing the Source she trickled a little power into the palm of her hand and created a small mage light. It glowed blue and, flicking her fingers, she made it dance across her knuckles like a coin. Those people nearby in line stepped backwards in surprise and perhaps fear, whereas the clerk didn’t seem at all disconcerted.
“Is that all you can do?” he asked. “It’s not very impressive.”
“I can do a lot more than that,” said Tianne, feeling her temper flare. She lifted the clerk off the ground and he let out a squawk of surprise. His head was just above the level of the crowd and he bobbed in the air like a cork in water before she lowered him again.
Both Royal Guards had not drawn their weapons but she could see they were tensed and ready for a fight. A pool of empty space had opened up around Tianne and she felt the uncomfortable weight of many unpleasant stares. The clerk had regained his composure and with a harrumph he gestured for Tianne to follow him to the front of the line. The two Royal Guards fell in behind her, watching her closely. She had the impression they were waiting for her to do something violent so that they could stab her in the back. So far her welcome home was far from what she’d been expecting.
Calm. She told herself to stay calm and that everything would be fine.
When they passed through the first set of palace gates she heaved a sigh of relief at being off the street. There were more people in the courtyard waiting to gain entrance, but none of them had seen or heard what she’d done, so they paid her no special attention.
“Sit over there,” said the clerk, gesturing at a bench against the far wall. Tianne did as instructed while he went to speak to another official, this one with two red stars on his palace shirt. After a short whispered conversation, during which both clerks sneaked glances at her, they disappeared through the gates into the palace. The Royal Guards had also spoken to their colleagues as now there were four of them watching her. They hadn’t moved from their posts, but all had turned their bodies to face her with hands on weapons. One man strung his bow and casually leaned on it.
Tianne did her best to look unthreatening but the tension of the Royal Guards proved to be infectious. Eventually the other supplicants noticed something was wrong as the low hum of conversation drained away until it was replaced with a tense silence.
When yet another clerk appeared in front of the others, this one with three stars on his shirt, Tianne realised if nothing else they were taking her request seriously. The tall, bearded man had a lean face and stared down his nose at her if she were mud on his shoes.
“Come with me,” he said, turning away before she had a chance to ask any questions. Tianne hurried after him down a dimly lit corridor. She caught brief glimpses of huge paintings that showed figures from history, old rulers perhaps, and a huge worn tapestry of an ancient battle. Following the sound of his boots she descended several flights of stairs before finally catching up.
“In there,” he said, gesturing towards an open door, and she went inside without hesitating. It was only when she’d walked into the room and turned around that she realised something was wrong. The walls were plain stone and the room was empty except for a pair of burly men in leather armour. As she opened her mouth to ask a question one of them punched her in the face, splitting the skin above her right eye.
Tianne stumbled back, blood dripping down her face. The heavy door behind her clanged shut. Before she had a chance to recover the other man rushed in, catching her on the temple with his fist. She spun around and fell against the wall, dazed and surprised. Several blows caught her in the spine and she fell to the ground, curling up into a ball. But they didn’t relent and started kicking her instead.
She did her best to protect her head with her arms but it left her stomach exposed and soon she was winded and gasping for air. She tried to reach for the Source but the pain and repeated kicks broke her concentration. A heavy blow caught her in the chest and she felt something snap. A fresh spike of pain lanced up her side and she screamed. Darkness closed in on all sides but even as she fell into the abyss she could still feel the repeated assault on her body.
Freezing cold water shocked her awake but her body had difficulty responding as her limbs were heavy and slow. Tianne was lying face down in ankle-deep dirty water and before she drowned she managed to crawl on all fours until she reached a wall. One of her eyes was swollen shut but faint light from above showed her four walls of a stone pit or an old well. Ten feet above her head was a heavy metal grille and flickering torchlight. She could just make out several figures in armour and all of them were carrying weapons.
The cold air and frigid water told her she was somewhere deep underground. Probably in the lowest levels of cells under the palace, unless they’d moved her somewhere else when she’d been unconscious. The only way out was to go up, through the metal grille and the waiting armed guards. She was willing to bet there would be more waiting beyond that room. Even if she could somehow use her magic to get out of the cell it would be pointless. She was trapped.
Waves of pain rolled through her body and she felt herself teeter on the edge of consciousness again. Her hands felt swollen, her head ached and it was difficult to catch her breath. Tianne slid down the wall until part of her body was submerged in the water again but she didn’t dare fall asleep. She might drown and no one would help her if she did.
The pain in her hands and chest made it difficult to think but as she went over the last few hours she couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. The Regent had declared an amnesty on Zecorran mages. He might not have been expecting someone her age, but surely any mage was better than none. Garvey was still a threat and the people needed protection. Magic was the only thing that was going to save them.
Perhaps Wren had been right. All of this had been nothing more than an elaborate trap designed to capture and kill all mages in Zecorria. But if that was the case then why was she still alive? Once she was unconscious it would have been easy for them to kill her.
A horrible thought slithered into the back of her mind. What if she was still alive because they intended to torture her? What if they forced her to tell them where to find the other mages?
It was that thought, more than the beating, that finally broke her.
She’d been so stupid. Determined to find her own place in the world she’d been sure that coming home was the right decision. The brief time she’d spent at the Red Tower had been better than anything that had come before and yet here she was, desperate to return home and impress other people. Growing up she’d been mocked, bullied, ignored and belittled, at times even by her own parents. The new life that she’d built had been one full of wonder and discovery. Even when that had all fallen apart she’d landed on her feet by staying with Wren. Her friend had trusted and relied on her. Tianne had been valued and respected in the new community and people genuinely liked her.
Now all of that was gone. She was alone, with no one to call on, injured and facing impending torture and perhaps death.
Hope abandoned Tianne in the dark and she began to cry.
CHAPTER 18
Balfruss stared at his reflection in the mirror, picking out all the little details that had gone unnoticed until now, as he never spent long looking at himself.
There was far less black in his hair than he remembered and lots more grey and white. Also his face was leaner and more
weather-beaten than he’d been expecting. That came from the last few months which had been among the most difficult he’d experienced. Lying to himself wouldn’t change the fact. Every day he was beginning to look a bit more like his father.
Putting that distressing thought aside, he focused on the candle’s flame while summoning a mental picture of Eloise. Embracing the Source he channelled a small amount of power into the mirror, waiting to see if she was there. This was the fourth time he’d tried to speak with Eloise but she hadn’t answered.
As it had been explained to him several years ago, this was a lot like fishing, except it was far more dangerous for him.
He cast out a line and waited to see if Eloise answered. The amount of energy required was fairly small, which meant that normally he could continue this indefinitely. The difficulty came in maintaining his concentration. If his mind wandered and he stopped focusing on her, then his connection would evaporate. The most dangerous part about this type of fishing was that his dangling hook could be snagged by someone, or something, else.
He knew how to create a connection within the mirrors, using the space between, but didn’t really understand how it worked. Every time he discovered something new, he realised how much there was still to learn, and how little he really knew.
In the past he’d scoffed at the idea of meditation but now he understood how critical it was at times like these. Without it he wouldn’t have been able to maintain his side of the link for long. Munroe had quickly floundered because she lacked the mental discipline to keep her mind focused on one image.
Something unfamiliar brushed up against the periphery of Balfruss’s senses but he didn’t react. He would instinctively know if it was Eloise and reach out towards her. Whatever else was out there, in the place between, was not her. Keeping perfectly still, and focusing only on Eloise in his mind, Balfruss waited for the other presence to move on. It was impossible to tell its identity, but the vague impression he felt was that its intent was malicious.
Sweat trickled down the sides of his face but he did his best to ignore it. After an indeterminate amount of time he felt the other drift away and heaved a sigh of relief.
Some time later, when the sides of his shirt were damp with sweat, he decided to withdraw his magic and try another day. Just as he was about to let go of the Source he felt a tentative touch that he recognised. Balfruss pressed one hand against the mirror, letting his fingers rest lightly on the surface. The feeling of familiarity increased significantly and he trickled a little more power into his connection. The surface of the mirror rippled as if made of water and then settled again. The glass seemed to frost over, turning black, but only for a moment. When it was gone he was staring at Eloise in the mirror.
She was just as he had pictured her in his mind, except for the loose white headscarf folded around her neck to ward off the sun. Behind her there was an open doorway and through it he could see a painfully bright blue sky. Golden rays of sunlight filtered into the room from somewhere on high, bathing her in its glow. Lots of brightly coloured cushions and a low table were in the background as well, bringing back memories of his time in the desert kingdoms before the war. Back then it had been just the three of them. Eloise, himself and Darius, her late husband. The warmth from his fond recollections faded away leaving behind a sour taste in his mouth.
Balfruss pressed his fingers more firmly against the glass and felt it give until he gripped Eloise’s hand. Her skin was warm and he felt a few grains of sand pressed between their palms.
“You look tired,” she said.
“It’s been a difficult day.”
“There have been a lot of those lately.”
“How is it, being back there?” he asked.
When Eloise had last been in the far east it had been with her husband prior to the war. Part of the reason she and her husband had come west to fight in the war was to repay Balfruss for all that he’d done to protect the desert kingdoms. They thought returning the favour was the least they could do, but it had cost Darius his life. Most people believed Eloise had died as well, burned up on the walls of Charas by the Warlock and his twisted apprentices. To return now, many years after being presumed dead, was always going to be difficult. But protecting the students mattered more to her than anything else.
“At first it was awkward, and there was a lot of tears and beating of chests.” Eloise shook her head and wiped her eyes with her free hand. “Then his mother and aunts wouldn’t let me out of their sight. Now they’re constantly feeding me, telling me I’ve not been eating enough.”
“They’re right. You’re so busy I know you sometimes forget to eat.”
“Every day they turn up with huge plates of rice and stew.”
Balfruss felt his mouth begin to water. “I remember their cooking was delicious. I always ate too much.”
Eloise laughed but it was brief and bittersweet. “They ask after you, given that you’re family, too.”
Balfruss wasn’t a blood relative but when Darius had died he’d inherited a large portion of his wealth, possessions and responsibilities, including his wife. As Blood Brother he was supposed to marry Darius’s widow. It was another reason that Eloise had gone east with the children instead of him. That was a tangle he did not want to unravel at the moment.
“How are the children?” he asked, changing the subject. Eloise smiled and let it pass, knowing he didn’t want to talk about their family any more. Several years on and it was still a difficult subject for both of them.
“They’re adjusting. It’s taking some of them more time than others, but having structure again is helping. The heat is the most difficult thing for them to get used to, but in time I know they’ll manage. I did, even though it took me years.”
“How long will you stay?” he asked.
Eloise sighed and nearly turned her head away which would have broken their connection. Instead she slumped forward and seemed to deflate. “I don’t know. They need me as an anchor from their old lives. For all the Jhanidi’s patience as teachers, it’s going to be a long time before the children feel comfortable living here in a temple. In some ways the other teachers from the Red Tower are having a more difficult time adjusting. They can leave the training grounds unattended, but then have to contend with a very different way of life to what they knew. I’d forgotten how different it is out here.”
Balfruss remembered when he’d first travelled to the desert kingdoms it had been quite a culture shock. He’d only been a visitor, and could have left at any time, but the former teachers had to live there indefinitely. It would probably be years before they fully adjusted and several more until they thought of it as home.
For Eloise it was equally uncomfortable to be in the desert. The longer she stayed there, surrounded by her late husband’s family, the more difficult it would be to leave. But she could not just run out and abandon the children because it was awkward. It was what he’d expected her to say, but a small part of him had hoped that Eloise would soon return to the west. There was only so much he could do by himself and he valued her wise counsel. She was also one of his oldest friends and he missed her.
“How are things there?” she asked, perhaps hoping for good news and it was his turn to look uncomfortable.
“Worse than ever. Munroe is gone. She’s bent on revenge and I’m not sure what could stop her. People are increasingly scared and paranoid about anyone with magic and Garvey is making it worse.”
Balfruss was conscious of how much time they’d been talking and knew it couldn’t go on much longer. Speaking quickly, he filled her in on what Garvey had done with his group of followers. Eloise’s expression darkened as he spoke until it was a mix of anger and sorrow.
“I didn’t think he’d go that far,” she said, shaking her head. “I knew he was on a dark path, but to kill so many innocent people, it’s so unlike him. It goes against everything he stood for.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Balfruss, hating to say such a thi
ng about his old friend, but recent events had made him wonder. “He’s changed. He’s not the same person I remember when we studied together at the Red Tower.”
“None of us are that naïve any more.”
“It’s more than that. From the first day when I returned to the school he was different. Cold, distant, and he was always so angry. His rage was always there, bubbling away under the surface.”
“After everything he was asked to do, I knew he was carrying a great burden, but I thought that teaching a new generation of children would bring him out of the dark,” said Eloise. “I hoped it might heal him.”
“Me, too,” he said with a sad smile. “Perhaps we’re both still a little naïve.”
“When did you know?”
It was something they’d never spoken about before. For all the noble things the old Grey Council had done before abandoning their posts, there had been a dark undercurrent. Over the years Balfruss had gathered scraps of information, from anecdotes and eyewitnesses, but he hadn’t believed Garvey had been involved. Not at first.
“I didn’t find out for several years after we’d left the Red Tower,” he said, thinking back to that time. Part of him had thought the world had been a kinder and simpler place, but now he knew differently. It was simply that ignorance was bliss. The less you knew, the less there was to worry about. “I heard a rumour about Garvey but didn’t believe it. I knew it couldn’t be true. I was so determined to clear his name that I visited the village and spoke to some of the locals. After that, any time I heard a similar story I knew it was him.”
When Balfruss had left the Red Tower as a young man, freshly anointed as a Battlemage, he’d gone in search of adventure. His hunger had taken him across the world, to many amazing countries, where he’d lived to the full. Unknown to him Garvey had been led down a different, much darker path, before they’d even left the school.
The Red Tower had always done its best to teach as many children as possible to control their magic and use it to help others. But not every child was found and others evaded the Seekers on purpose, preferring a life in the shadows where their gifts could help themselves and those with less scruples. If these people were discovered by the Grey Council they were not put on trial. Magic left no footprints in the mud, no marks on the skin, no sediment in a liquid. Proving that someone had been murdered or cheated with magic was all but impossible.
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