Errant Spark (Elemental Trials Book 1)

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Errant Spark (Elemental Trials Book 1) Page 9

by Ronelle Antoinette


  After kisses had been given and received, Anya took Kylan’s hand. “Will you show me what your music tutors have been teaching you? Papa said you’re learning to play beautifully and I’d love to hear.” She had to all but drag her sister from the room, though she did it with gentleness. The door closed behind them, cutting off the little girl’s reply.

  “Will you walk with me, Jex?” Aelani stretched and put a hand to her back. “I grow sore sitting for too long.”

  “Of course, Ma’am.” He helped her to her feet and offered his arm. She took it and directed him to a door opposite the one her daughters had taken. It led into a long corridor, empty but for golden afternoon sun flooding through the open windows. They strolled for a time, saying nothing.

  Aelani closed her eyes and focused on the simple pleasures of the warm rays bathing her skin and the soft cotton of his tunic sleeve beneath her hand. Distantly, she could hear the trickle and splash of water from the fountain in the courtyard below and the scent of lilies drifted in on the occasional breeze. The baby inside her shifted and her smile grew.

  “My brothers came to me this morning and told me what happened in council,” she began at last, “I wish to know your opinion.”

  “Regarding which matter exactly?” Jex asked cautiously.

  “You know of what I speak.”

  “The High Mage—”

  “I know what my brother thinks. What I wish to know is what you think.”

  He looked a little taken aback, but his steps never faltered. “I hesitate to question my tora, but…why ask me? You must have an army of advisors tripping over themselves and each other to offer their opinions.”

  Aelani shook her head with a laugh. He certainly was a cheeky one, just as she’d been told. “Indeed, I have more than enough but you, you’re a stranger here, unused to the ways of the court and its politics. Unlike my brothers, my advisors, or my husband, your perspective is fresh. What did you think of the councilors’ plan to marry off my youngest?”

  “I thought it was abhorrent.” He gave his answer immediately, without a hint of uncertainty.

  “Tell me why.”

  “Because,” he said more slowly, carefully choosing his words, “Torina Kylan is an innocent. I mean no insult or disrespect, but from what I’ve seen in just the last few days, she hasn’t the guile needed to accomplish what the council would ask of her. Min Ha is old enough to be her father and is most likely hardened to the wiles of a woman by now, especially if one considers who’s raised him. Kylan is not a woman yet, and would have no sway over a man like that.”

  “What of the other torin, Gaherith?” she prompted, “I understand he was also put forth as an option.”

  Jex frowned. “I know little of him, which tells me he has almost no power or influence in his father’s court. He would be a better match for her in age and likely gentler, but I think there would be too little advantage. It might even be more dangerous than marriage to Min Ha.” He cleared his throat, “May I be so bold as to offer a more personal thought, Ma’am?”

  “Of course. Any insight you have is most welcome.”

  “I think being sent to Atromore, no matter which torin was chosen for her, would destroy your daughter.”

  “Because of Nareina?”

  “No, though she must be considered one of the greater threats. Torina Kylan is something special, but delicate as well, I think, and Atromore is a hard land. My mother was born and raised there, and she’s told me many stories over the years. I’m afraid that it would break Kylan’s spirit to be sent away at her age and that would be too great a sacrifice for such an uncertain, and likely temporary, gain.”

  Hearing those words, and the feeling with which they were spoken, brought tears to the tora’s eyes again. She was both surprised and pleased at his perceptiveness, having feared that such thoughts had occurred to no one but herself. To have them spoken aloud reassured her that her objections were based in more than maternal fear.

  “You’re a wise man, Jex Xander,” she commented, voice thick with emotion. She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat.

  He snorted. “Not so much wise as observant and not even that on a bad day.”

  “You give yourself far too little credit. I think you would make a fine diplomat,” she argued.

  They’d come around at last to the plan that had been forming in her mind since the moment of Kylan’s excited pronouncement.

  She stopped, turning him to face her. “May I propose a bargain?”

  “A bargain?” His eyebrows lifted. “You have but to command me, my tora.”

  Aelani waved a dismissive hand. “I would prefer to make a trade. I find I get the best results from those whose loyalty is freely given.” She folded her arms and looked him up and down. “Though I can make it an order after you’ve heard me out, if that sort of thing tickles your fancy, dear boy.”

  His eyes sparkled with interest and he made no attempt to hide his grin. “Not necessary, Ma’am. What do you have in mind?”

  He was intrigued. Perfect.

  “Let me teach you the ways of court as only an insider knows them,” she said.

  “To what purpose? I think Rowan has more than enough courtiers, don’t you?”

  “I see you prefer blunt speech. Something to work on later. I would like to train you in the art of diplomacy and espionage. That way, if negotiations are ever opened with Atromore, I can send someone I trust into them, If said negotiations are unsuccessful, I would then be able to employ…other means to ensure peace,” Aelani explained, watching him for an unfavorable reaction and readying responses to potential objections.

  “Why me?” he asked, a touch of shrewdness coloring his expression.

  “As I said before, your perspective is fresh. You haven’t been spoilt by a life at court.”

  “Pluck any brat off the street and you’ll have that. Why me specifically?”

  “You are clever,” she praised, “I want you, Jex Xander, because I know I can trust you.”

  “You don’t know that.” He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the window ledge, studying her without a hint of his former deference.

  Honesty and frank speech, it seemed, were her best course with this one, so she offered her heart’s feelings. “My brother has always spoken highly of you, and his praise is not given to many as I’m sure you know. And you’ve been kind to my children. If that doesn’t earn a mother’s trust, I don’t know what would.”

  “But does it justify a tora’s trust as well?”

  “Ask any woman with even one child, and you’ll find that the trust of a tora is nothing in comparison.”

  He seemed to accept the explanation. “And in exchange for your patronage?”

  “Put your knowledge of the Atromorese language to use by teaching Kylan. Things in our world are changing and when it comes time for her to rule, she’ll need every advantage and ally she can get. Also, as you are no longer my brother’s apprentice, you will, once trained to my satisfaction become my personal emissary for whatever matters I require. Do you find this arrangement agreeable?”

  “If it be your desire, I’ll do it gladly.”

  “I needn’t command you?” she teased.

  “Nay, Your Majesty. I think this is a bargain I can enter quite freely without compromising my conscience or my honor.”

  “Good. Starting tomorrow, you’ll spend your mornings with me or Brinon. You have your choice of afternoons or evenings for lessons with Kylan.”

  “Afternoons would be my preference, Ma’am. I prefer to have my evenings to myself.”

  “I’ll see it arranged.”

  They began to walk again, Aelani feeling quite satisfied with the deal she had made.

  * * *

  “Will you tell me more about magic?”

  Sarene and Jex lay side-by-side in the shade beneath a gnarled apple tree. The dappled shadows were only marginally cooler than the rest of the grounds, but immensely more comfortable tha
n the palace interior.

  He’d still been a little annoyed at her when she stopped him as he left the tora’s rooms. Head bent, eyes downcast, she had apologized for her loss of temper and asked for his forgiveness. Unable to refuse her contrite manner, or the attractive blush that stained her cheeks, he’d told her to forget it, and accepted her invitation of a walk.

  They’d ended up in a small and little-used garden cut off from a larger plot by thick hedges, and its isolation guaranteed privacy and a measure of quiet. Bana would be less than pleased if she discovered them there unchaperoned, which he suspected had a great deal to do with why Sarene chose the spot.

  “What do you want to know?” He lay with his hands tucked behind his head, eyes closed and drifting on the verge of what promised to be a pleasant nap.

  “How is it done? And are mages trained only at Turris Arcana?” She rolled to her side and propped her cheek on her fist, the pose accentuating the dip of her waist and swell of her hip. Her hair was braided simply and twisted into a bun atop her head, leaving her neck exposed to the cooling breeze. She wore the lightest gown she owned and had removed her shoes and stockings, discarding them carelessly in a pile.

  “Asking ‘how is it done’ is a little like asking how you know to breathe. You just do and with magic you either have the gift or you don’t. The only thing you can be taught is the when and the why.”

  “So why Turris Arcana, then? What’s so special about it?” she inquired.

  “Ah, well that has very little to do with magic, actually,” he said, “The Tower is a closed and controlled environment. Out in the middle of Goddess-forsaken nowhere, the damage from any mishaps can be kept to a minimum. That, and there are less distractions.”

  She laughed. “Are there many? Mishaps, I mean. I’m sure the creative ones can find or create plenty of distractions.”

  “From time to time.” He chuckled, an example evidently come to mind. “Though only a few of them have ever been spectacular or noteworthy.”

  “Were you involved?”

  “Not I, Torina,” he said, a little too calmly.

  “Are there many different types of magic?”

  “Not as many as people think. We’re gifted with control over the six elements—”

  “There are only four elements, silly. Air, fire, water, and earth,” she interrupted, “Everybody knows that.”

  “Spirit and, though it’s been debated for centuries, ice are elements as well,” he explained.

  “Ice is just frozen water.”

  “I know.”

  “So why is it considered a separate talent?”

  “You’d have to ask an arctomancer. Since I’m not one, I have no idea what the fuss is about, but I generally try to stay out of it. Sometimes they can be a bit touchy about the whole thing.”

  “I can well imagine. So six elements, then. Is that it? That seems a little too simple.”

  “Generally speaking, yes, that’s it. There are more subtleties and nuances to the gift than that,” he tilted his hand back and forth, “but the explanation tends to get a little tedious and technical. Suffice it to say, the vast majority of mages wield one element. There have been some over the years whose gifts are a little more fluid, in that their main strength is in one area but they show hints of another. It’s not common.”

  “Are you one of those?”

  “I am. I’ve dabbled a bit in etheromancy and spirit magic, but my strongest gift is for pyromancy.”

  “Oh,” she sniffed, “I suppose I thought it would be a bit more exciting than setting fires.”

  “What’s not to love about that?” he demanded, “I find it very useful."

  “Being a man, I suspect you would,” she mocked.

  Jex sat up and scowled at her in indignation.

  Sarene only smiled, gimlet gaze fixed on him. “What else can be done with magic, besides lighting torches and making ice or what-have-you?"

  "It depends on what your strengths are. The potential mage would have to be tested to determine specific gifts, but one of the more common is the Second Sight."

  “The Second Sight?”

  “The most universal application is sensing the presence and residue of magic, though I’ve heard it can be used to summon visions of the past or the future as well. It’s a peculiar ability, in that each mage who has it uses and perceives it differently. My friend Antilles, he Sees the touch of magic on the world as colors and brushstrokes, like a painter. Another mage, Hallie, hears music when she uses her Sight to look into the future. Don’t ask me about that, because it’s never made any sense to me.”

  “How peculiar. So do you have tutors as I do? How do you learn about the magic you possess if it varies so much?”

  “I imagine our lessons are similar to yours, when we’re young, at any rate.” He shifted to put his back to the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes again. “Potential mages are grouped by age and take classes in general studies, reading, arithmetic, runes, and the like until they’re about fourteen,”

  “What happens at fourteen?”

  “We’re eligible for apprenticeship. Once chosen, our education is the responsibility of a Sura. We still take classes together for some things, but the purely magical training is done one-on-one, with an enormous amount of reading on the side.”

  “I’ve never had much patience for reading. I’d much rather just be told what I need to know. Why waste the day hunched over some dusty old tome when it can be explained in half the time?”

  The corners of his mouth tilted up. “I’ve heard that same lament many times, but never understood it. We have an entire library at the Tower filled with knowledge on magical practice and theory, so why wouldn’t you make use of it? But in the end, only the Lexicon Magus, Scrolls of the White, and The Seventh Door are required.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t imagine learning all there is to know from just three books. Can anyone read them? I’ve never heard those names before.”

  “The first two, yes, but I don’t know why you’d want to. They’re a bit…dry, to be honest. The Seventh Door is forbidden to anyone outside the Tower.”

  “Why?”

  “For reasons I’m hesitant to discuss on such a lovely afternoon,” he hedged, “The last afternoon of my freedom, as it were.”

  “I heard about that. I’m sorry to see you shackled to my little sister.”

  “I don’t see it that way. I think she’s charming,” he said easily.

  “It sounds dreadfully dull to me and far too much work.”

  “Everyone needs a purpose, Torina, and I can think of much worse.”

  Sarene shrugged and returned to the previous subject. “What other talents do you have, besides pyromancy?”

  There was a brief shimmer in the air around her and she gasped in surprise. Before her eyes, her gown changed from green to red to purple before returning to its original pale blue.

  “That’s…very strange to watch.” She touched her skirt with wary fingers.

  Jex grinned and stretched his arms above his head. “More impressive than setting fires?”

  “Much.”

  “Illusion is a little more widely useful.”

  “Is there more?” she demanded excitedly.

  He smirked at her. “I have a wide range of talents. Not all of them magic-related.”

  “Which makes me wonder. Why do you insist on visiting whores when there are plenty of fine and willing ladies of higher birth here to enjoy said talents?” She turned onto her back again, skirts pooling about her thighs as she bent her knees to wiggle her toes in the thick carpet of grass. In the spirit of being more aware of his surroundings, Jex was quick to note that she had rather lovely toes, and ankles, and—

  She saw him staring and winked, then turned her attention to the sky. “Why do you do it?”

  Jex looked at her in confusion, having lost the thread of their conversation in favor of smooth skin. “Do what?”

  She sat up and regarded hi
m as if he were half-witted. “Take serving women to your bed, of course!” Crawling on her hands and knees, Sarene closed on him. She straddled his thighs, hiking up her gown to accommodate the spread of her legs over his. This brought her face to within inches of his.

  “Why does it concern you so?” His eyes were locked on her mouth, and he didn’t seem to expect an answer.

  “Because you are a guest,” she breathed against his lips. “You know, you needn’t stoop to maids and kitchen women. I saw the others at the banquet, and many since, watching you. You could have your pick of any one of them willing to…serve you.”

  “Like you?” he asked boldly, eyes sliding lower.

  “Perhaps,” Sarene purred, “Would the opportunity to bed a torina interest you?”

  “It might.”

  “I can feel that it does.” She shifted in his lap. “You may, if you wish.”

  And he had her, there in the grass under the bright summer sun.

  Or rather, that had been his intention. Sarene, it turned out, had her own agenda.

  She was demanding and aggressive, taking her pleasure from him with a single-mindedness that left no room for anything else.

  “Sarene,” he tried to touch her but she pushed his hands away impatiently, “there’s no need to hurry.”

  She ignored both his request and any attempt he made to slow her pace. In the end, he simply lay still and watched as she rode him to her climax. Only then did she relinquish control.

  Falling onto her back, she spread her legs and closed her eyes, giving him permission with a gesture of her hand to pursue his own release. He rolled atop her and attempted to kiss her mouth, her neck, anything to make the moment more intimate, but she turned her head aside. With a grimace, he did as she bid him, though he might as well have been alone for all that she participated.

  It was over mercifully soon and he rose hastily. Sarene watched him for a moment before straightening her own clothes and getting to her feet.

  Standing on her toes, she whispered into his ear. “It would be worth your life, mageling, if anyone were to learn of this. Promise you won’t tell?”

 

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