Errant Spark (Elemental Trials Book 1)

by Ronelle Antoinette

  “Thank you for your assistance, Novice.” Antilles closed the box of paints and offered her a handkerchief for her dirty fingers. “I think this is exactly what we needed.”

  Enari rose from the table and went to stand by Jex. She put a tentative hand on his bicep and he slid an arm absently around her waist. Eryk stepped sideways as if to get a better look at the drawings, and in the process, blocked Vasi’s line of sight to her apprentice. She seemed not to notice.

  “I think, High Mage, we four need to speak in private,” Antilles said.

  “It will have to wait a bit. I promised my sister that Jordin and I would make the funeral arrangements for Brinon.”

  He nodded solemnly. “We can make a start of it on our own. Perimos? Jex?”

  Jex gave an acknowledging wave and bent to whisper to Enari. “I’ll come to you tonight, after Vasi’s in bed. Wait up for me?”

  She squeezed his hand in assent and he followed the other men from the room.

  * * *

  “That girl of yours is brilliant,” Antilles observed as he closed the door to Eryk’s study.

  Jex elbowed him and scowled. Perimos blithely ignored them and crossed to a cabinet on the far wall, removing several glasses and a decanter of amber liquid.

  “Well, she is! I don’t know that I would’ve made some of those connections without her.”

  Jex began to fidget. “She isn’t—”

  “Oh Goddess!” Perimos exclaimed, “Everyone knows you’re bedding her at every opportunity, so save your breath.”

  Jex shot a dirty look at Antilles.

  “I didn’t tell him anything of the sort!” his friend insisted.

  “I don’t believe you for a second, Antilles Denier.”

  “You’re simply too predictable.” Perimos said, pouring them each a measure of brandy. “And even if you weren’t, it would only be a matter of time before you tried. Anyone who knows you knows that you can’t help yourself.”

  “Since Vasi hasn’t poisoned me or killed me in my sleep, I’m not as obvious as you two seem to think,” Jex muttered, accepting his glass and settling into a chair.

  “So,” Antilles said, changing the subject. “Did anyone else pick up on the significance of her drawings?”

  “Possibly, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten us anyway, Sir Know-It-All,” Perimos joked, taking a healthy swallow of his drink. “This is certainly higher quality than what he keeps in his study at home.”

  “One of the many luxuries afforded by life in the Imperial Palace,” Jex said, knocking back the alcohol and reaching for the decanter.

  “So how much trouble do you think you’ll be in for using psychomancy on her?” Perimos asked.

  Jex looked him over shrewdly. “I suppose it depends on what kind of shape the observatory is in when he gets back. I might get off easy.”

  It was Perimos’ turn to glare at Antilles.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, looking down at the glass he was turning around and around. He wasn’t a drinker, and with good reason, but at least it gave him something to do with his hands.

  “You, my friend, are the worst secret-keeper I’ve ever met. Consorts forbid the enemy ever gets hold of you.”

  Antilles bristled and pointed at Jex. “It’s only him I can’t keep secrets from! He just looks at me, exactly like he’s doing now, and—”

  Perimos shuddered and held up his hands. “Stop. I don’t want to know how he gets the information out of you. I’ve nightmares enough without that mental image.”

  “Hey!” Jex protested.

  “Anyway,” Antilles pressed, desperate to move on from the uncomfortable topic. “Did you notice anything unusual about her drawings?”

  “Other than the fact that an eighteen-year-old girl just drew us a pile of pictures one might find in a torture manual, not really,” Jex answered.

  “You weren’t paying enough attention then,” Perimos told him. His eyes returned to Antilles. “She used two different colors and her technique was markedly different with each.”

  “Exactly!”

  “Which means?” Jex prompted.

  “Which means, we’re either dealing with two different practitioners or two different demons. Or both, I suppose.”

  “Well, that’s just bloody brilliant,” Jex sighed. “Not only have we been unable to learn a scrap of information about the first summoner, but now we might have two? You’re just full of encouraging news this morning.”

  “Thanks to Enari, we still have more information now than we’ve ever had. There’s still a chance to stop the next murder, or possibly, murders plural, before they happen.”

  Jex’s eyes turned dark as he looked down at the portrait of the heartbroken tora. Rage filled him at the thought of all that had befallen her family in this last week. Losing Brinon had been horrible enough, but now someone was threatening not only her life, but the life of her unborn child.

  “How do we stop it?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “We’ll need a little time—a few days at least—to prepare, but now that we’ve a sense of the summoner’s aura, there’s a counter-ritual that can be used to send the curse rebounding upon its caster,” Antilles explained earnestly, “but this has to be timed very carefully.”

  He was shuffling the parchments over and over in absentminded agitation as he spoke and Jex finally snatched them away and set them out of reach. Antilles reached for his glass, but Jex took that as well, swallowing the contents and returning it to the sideboard.

  “What’s the catch?” Perimos asked, “There’s always a catch with these things.”

  “Well,” Antilles hesitated, “the supplies we’ll need are rather hard to get outside the Tower.”

  “I can take care of that,” Jex declared, “You can get anything in this city if you know the right people. Just give me a list of what we need.”

  “Excellent. Once we have them, I’ll line the ritual out in more detail and we’ll get set up. Is there a place I can work without servants and the like stumbling all over what I’m doing?”

  “I’m sure our Master Librarian would be glad to lend you one of his storage rooms. They aren’t large, but they’re out of the way and no one ever bothers with them except the occasional assistant.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. One of us will need to be ready to spring the trap at a moment’s notice. I fear the trigger for this curse is the birth of the tora’s child.”

  “She’s not due for eight weeks yet, or so Vasi says,” Jex told them, “So unless your preparations will take longer than that, we should be safe enough in that regard.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The morning of Tor Brinon’s funeral dawned bright and clear, a crisp breeze stirring the bright autumn leaves into spirals of dancing color. Enari sat in her room, dressed in a borrowed black gown, and stared solemnly out at the birds singing in the gardens. She felt that the world should have stopped, the birds remained silent on such a somber day as this.

  But that sort of poetic justice only occurred in books.

  Kylan slipped in, a pale wraith in black, and climbed silently up onto the bed. She curled into a tight ball and laid her head in Enari’s lap, eyes closed. Astraeus settled onto the floor nearby and rested his chin on his paws, watching. Enari petted the girl’s hair and waited to see if she would speak.

  “It’s so quiet here,” the little girl said at last, “It’s the only place in the whole palace now that is. Not even Jex’s room is nice today.” She began to cry and Enari simply put her arms around her and held her close. Sometimes, that’s all that could be done.

  “Will they find him?” Kylan sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve and looking up at her with hope. “Will Jex and his friends find who took my papa?”

  Enari nodded encouragingly and her confidence seemed to comfort the torina. She put her head back against Enari’s shoulder and they sat together in silence until Kylan drift
ed into a fitful doze. Enari rested her cheek on the girl’s hair and returned to staring out at the day. While she’d been truthful when she said the mages would catch whoever was doing these horrible things, she couldn’t help but worry they wouldn’t be in time to prevent another tragedy.

  “Nani?”

  She looked over her shoulder to find Jex standing in the open door and felt a wave of relief wash over her. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t slept since she saw him three days ago, and though he was impeccably dressed in his formal robes, the dark velvet only emphasized the circles beneath his eyes and chalky pallor of his skin.

  She eased Kylan out of her lap and the little girl murmured in protest but didn’t wake. As quietly as she could, Enari crossed the room and into his embrace. He was soft and warm and real, an anchoring contrast to the surrealism of the past days.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, returning the embrace fiercely.

  “Are you? You look as if you haven’t slept for days.”

  “Probably because I haven’t. I’ve brought you something,” he said, stepping back and offering her a tissue-wrapped bundle. “From a friend of mine.”

  Curious, as this was an unusual time for gifts, she plucked up the folded parchment from beneath the ribbons holding it all together and broke the seal.

  Lady Enari,

  Jex was so kind as to relate to me the details of your unpleasant encounter with several of my employees some nights back. I would like to extend my most sincere apologies for their uncouth behavior. Enclosed, you will find compensation for your damaged property as well as a small favor, to be used once if ever you should have need of my services.

  Most Sincerely Yours,

  Moravelle Elshanon

  P.S. I hope the color is to your liking.

  Pulling away the paper, Enari withdrew a gown of cobalt blue silk. It shimmered as she turned it and intricate gold embroidery graced the cuffs, hem, and neckline. Beneath that she found a linen chemise, and like the dress, it was much finer than what had been destroyed. A black-and-gold braided belt completed the ensemble.

  An envelope amidst the wrappings caught her eye and she carefully draped the gown over the back of a chair before picking it up. She upended it over her palm and a ring with a black gem set in it tumbled out. It was similar to the one Jex had, but the outside of the band was plain and there was only one jewel.

  “That,” he said, closing her fingers around it, “is something you should guard very, very carefully. The Shadow Lady doesn’t issue boons lightly and it might come in handy someday. Put it out of sight, but keep it on your person always.”

  While she strung the ring onto the same cord as the amulet she’d been given by Zaya, Jex crouched beside the bed and put a hand on Kylan’s shoulder, shaking her gently until she opened bleary eyes and looked around. As soon as she saw him, she scrambled into his arms. Enari watched as he hugged the girl, tears glimmering in his eyes before he blinked them back.

  “You smell like Enari,” she sighed, rubbing her cheek against him.

  He laughed, then turned his head to whisper in her ear for a moment before rising to his feet and taking her hand.

  “I wish I could spare you this, dear heart,” he sighed, “and all that came before.”

  “It’s ok, Jex. Papa is in Andehai with the Goddess now and Uncle Eryk says he’ll watch over Mama and Sarene and Anya and me from there. And the baby, too.”

  Jex sniffed once, blinking rapidly before swiping a hand across his eyes. It came away wet and Enari felt tears of her own welling up. She was as moved as Jex by Kylan’s faith.

  He offered his other arm to her and she took it, letting him lead them out into the hall. His boots echoed softly in the empty corridors as they walked, overlaying the quiet shuffle of slippered feet. Other than their footsteps, the palace was silent and it was as if they three were the only living souls in a world long abandoned.

  Their destination was the Chapel of Roses, where the interment rites for tors and toras for centuries had been held.

  “Wait here,” he whispered as they entered, directing Enari to a pew near the back before proceeding with Kylan up the aisle, ignoring the suspicious stares and whispers that followed.

  He halted beside the front pew where the other torinas sat solemn in black mourning clothes. He prodded her gently towards her sisters, not seeing the searing look of disdain Sarene shot at him. Kylan was reluctant to release his hand, even at the beckoning of Anya.

  “Your mother and uncles will be here in a minute, and Enari and I are just at the back. Go on now.”

  She sat and scooted down the pew to snuggle into Anya’s side. He turned on his heel, moving back down the aisle to take his place beside Enari. Sarene’s eyes tracked his every move and she squinted thoughtfully at the pair.

  “Stop staring, Sarene,” Anya murmured, “It’s rude.”

  With a shrug, she faced front and waited for her mother and uncles to arrive.

  Every occupant of the chapel rose as one when Tora Aelani crossed the threshold, escorted by her somber younger brothers. Not even her lady’s skilled hand with a makeup brush could hide the fact that she’d been weeping.

  The trio moved slowly down the aisle to take their places in the front row.

  The sun flooded through the huge stained glass window in the southern wall, falling on the ornate casket of Tor Brinon. An ageing priest stood behind it, silent and immobile in his hooded robes. He waited for the chamber to quiet before he began to speak.

  “Today, we begin a time of deep and darkest mourning. Our beloved tor has fallen and shall rise no more.” At this he paused, looking to where the royal family sat.

  “He was an honorable leader, and a man who loved his family and his people beyond measure. He will be sorely missed, for his wisdom and understanding has guided and sheltered us all…”

  He was interrupted by a stifled cry from Tora Aelani. All eyes turned to her as she doubled over in the pew, clutching her belly and clenching her teeth in agony. Sarene had her hand on her mother’s shoulder and was frowning at her. Eryk rose, then fell to his knees before her, motioning Vasi to join them.

  The kvinna was beside them in an instant. A brief word from Aelani, and Eryk and Jordin were helping their sister to her feet. She cried out again, the sound sharp in the still air, and the men had to half-carry her away.

  Vasi looked around until she spotted Enari, then motioned for her to follow.

  Jex caught her hand. “What is it? What’s happening?”

  Enari’s eyes were troubled as she looked down at him. “The tora is in labor, I think,”

  “N-no,” he stuttered, “No no no. She can’t be. We aren’t—we’re not ready for this!”

  Her smile was bitter. “Babies have their own sense of timing, my love. I’m sorry.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Alright, Aelani, this is it. You’re nearly finished. Now PUSH!”

  Vasi’s voice was firm and commanding as she crouched between the tora’s straining thighs. The woman had been in labor all the previous day and night and the sun was now sinking on her second full day of struggle. Exhaustion showed plainly on Aelani’s pallid features.

  “Oh, Black Goddess, I can’t,” she wailed, dropping her head back onto the pillow. She panted hard as another contraction crushed across her swollen abdomen and her knuckles turned white as she clenched a twisted length of sheet. “Vasi, I can’t!”

  Vasi looked up. Wisps of pale hair had long ago escaped her neat bun and now stuck to the sides of her ruddy face.

  “You can and you must. Your babe is eager to join us. Just a little more and it will be over, I promise. Now push!”

  Enari stood at her Sura’s shoulder, dressed in the long white tunic and matching loose trousers worn by all midwives and their apprentices, waiting for instructions. Her worried eyes flicked back and forth between the tora’s sweating face and Vasi’s crouched form.

  It had been nearly two days and the baby had not
crowned, seeming reluctant to enter the world. Tora Aelani strained and cried out, but no progress was made. Vasi glanced up at her apprentice and spoke softly, wiping her blood-smeared hands on a towel between her knees.

  “I want to make one last attempt to determine the babe’s positioning, but I cannot do so through an external examination. Your hands are smaller, Enari, and you’ll cause her less pain.” Rising and putting a hand to her back, Vasi spoke to the prone woman.

  “Aelani, I believe your baby is turned to the breech position. I had hoped that time would turn him or her correctly, but this hasn’t happened. I need to examine you inside and see if the babe can be adjusted. Enari is going to assist me in this, as her hand is smaller and should cause you less discomfort. Do I have your permission to proceed?”

  Aelani’s frightened eyes shone fever-bright as she solemnly considered midwife and novice, but she finally nodded and closed her eyes.

  “Do what you must.”

  Taking Enari’s right hand in hers, Vasi inspected the nails to be sure there was no dirt beneath them or ragged edges. Satisfied, she fished a small pot of oil from her bag and greased Enari’s arm to the elbow. The smell of lavender filled the small chamber.

  Enari did as instructed, wincing at the look of pain that flashed across the tora’s face at the intrusion. Hesitating, she glanced up at Vasi, who only nodded. Muscles clamped against her fingers and she halted, glancing at Vasi again, concern and uncertainty written clearly on her face.

  “I know this is difficult, but I need you to relax as much as possible. We’ll be quick.”

  The pressure eased and Enari slid her hand inside the tora’s body very slowly. She reached, but felt nothing. Vasi pressed on her elbow, urging her deeper.

  Finally, her fingers touched something that moved weakly, just a tiny flutter of motion…

  “What do you feel?”

  Enari patted the tora’s foot with her free hand and Vasi’s face crumpled.

  “It is as I feared. Withdraw and clean yourself. I have another task for you.”