Stained Glass Monsters

by Andrea Höst

  "Congratulations," he said as she clambered over the barrier.

  Surprised and a little uncomfortable, Kendall glowered. "How did you know?"

  "Oh, once you start casting, you get a good deal more sensitive to changes in the Efera. Enough to tell location, the power of the casting, sometimes even what's being cast. You weren't doing anything loud, but I was close enough to tell the direction."

  Not loud about described it. Kendall had expected more of herself and turned away, shrugging her shoulders. Then she saw two men, Ferumguard, standing near the infirmary wall watching them.

  "Do they follow you about?" she asked, interested.

  Sebastian flicked an irritable glance at the pair. "There's always someone watching. They've the most fantastic library here, and I can't bear to read because I know someone's watching me do it. That's why I'm out here."

  "They're still watching," Kendall pointed out. Her stomach growled again.

  "Inevitably. But I want out of that infirmary, I want a room with a door I can shut, and they won't let me until I've improved more."

  "Walking practice?"

  "Something like." He gave her a diffident look, and added: "You'll be hungry after Thought-casting. How about you show me where to get something to eat? That should be enough that they can't say I need a nurse-maid."

  "But they know you can use magic to go places, don't they?"

  "I'm not allowed to, except in emergencies. Come on. Do we go back through the centre?"

  "Quickest way," Kendall said, watching dubiously as he took a couple of steps, swinging his legs like he'd forgotten his knees. But he managed to get going at something faster than turtle pace, so Kendall led him left around the hallway which circled the Library Tower.

  There were three dining halls bracketing the Halls of Magic's kitchens. The smallest and fanciest belonged to the Hand, and had lots of smaller tables and some pictures on the wall which Kendall had liked a lot, even though they only showed bowls and jugs and grapes. She'd snatched an enjoyable ramble in there, stroking velvet cushions and inspecting the carvings of the chair backs. Fine stuff.

  The Sentene had their own area, but Kendall hadn't more than poked her nose in. It was sparse and tidy and looked like it wasn't often used. The third hall was well battered, crammed with long benches and always too full of people. The Arkathan was the busiest section of the Halls, with students ranging from Kendall's age all the way up to their twenties. People were always coming and going here, grabbing plates from the gleaming stacks and moving through the serving trays, taking their pick. The noise made Kendall want to leave: too much chattering, clattering, benches scraping back, mugs clunking.

  They arrived just as all this was reaching lunchtime peak, and Kendall took Sebastian's elbow and made sure he got across the hall upright. She filled their plates too, not trusting his ability to juggle his cane, then moved them to one side of the servery so she could look for a place to sit down.

  "Is it always this crowded?" Sebastian asked, for there were precious few spare seats.

  "The first couple of days I was here, when there were more classes, it didn't get so bad," she said. "People would rush in, and gulp things down and then rush out. Now they all sit around gossiping and blocking–"

  She broke off as a loud scraping of benches brought a sudden hush to the room. At one of the corner tables everyone had stood up at once, and were walking to return their plates, all very stiff-backed and correct. Sukata Illuma, who had obviously just sat down, gave no sign that she'd even noticed their departure, or the murmur of discomfort mixed with enjoyment which ran through the room.

  Kendall nearly lost her own balance when Sebastian moved forward. He'd gone white, with spots of colour highlighting his cheekbones. Really angry. And then he stalked across the hall. Even balancing on the cane he managed dignity and outrage with every step. Kendall trailed in his wake, spotting his Ferumguard minders watching with the interest shared by the entire room.

  "May we join you?" Sebastian asked, and didn't wait for an answer before sitting down opposite Sukata. "I'm Sebastian. This is Kendall."

  "Sukata," said Sukata.

  Kendall suffered a slight shock on seeing Sukata's expression. In the little time she'd been at the Arkathan she'd learned Sukata was master of the art of being correct, so perfect that all the slights and snobberies of students and faculty had no power. Like all the Kellian, nothing seemed to touch her. But she wasn't that way about Sebastian. She met his determined eyes and actually changed colour. So extremely startled and uncertain she was not quite able to hide it.

  There was some noise from a nearby table, and Sukata's expression flicked back to normal. But the talk wasn't down to her. A tall boy, three or four years older, had stood up and was staring at their small group. Beside him, a much younger girl with the same fine, fair features was asking him questions in an excited voice, demanding until he responded. The girl bounced gleefully at his response, and wriggled out of her seat.

  She wasn't much more than ten years old, dressed in a floaty wisp of rose silk. A fairy-princess, Kendall thought, and realised how well that fitted when the girl ran straight up to Sebastian and announced: "Justin says I have the right to call you cousin."

  "Do you?" Sebastian ran fingers absently through his hair and blinked at the girl, then looked past her to her elder brother, approaching with a little train of friends behind him. With some difficulty he stood up, and bowed carefully. "Exceedingly remote cousins, Your Highness."

  "But the link's still there," said Prince Justin. "And that's all that's important to Sera. She's been longing to meet you." He laughed. "I can't say I haven't been more than curious myself. May we join you?"

  Kendall suspected Sebastian wasn't altogether pleased by this development, but he agreed. The eight-person table was quickly over-filled.

  "Why did your sister snub Grandmama?" Princess Sera asked, making mischief clear as day. Kendall's eyes widened, then she settled back to enjoy the entertainment. Sebastian hadn't become general gossip, but the royal family had obviously been informed, and weren't overly shy about confronting him. And Princess Sera had all the makings of a sugar-glossed brat.

  "I hadn't heard she had," Sebastian said. He was still pale, but not at all nervous. "What makes you think it?"

  "Grandmama summoned her to audience, and she said she was too busy and left!" Princess Sera made a great play of looking shocked.

  "Well, my sister does have to be at certain places at certain times, even if that means missing out on meeting your Grandmother. The incursions won't wait for her to arrive."

  "What is she actually doing?" Prince Justin asked. "I've heard so many different things."

  "Building a weapon," Sebastian said, after a slight pause. "The same thing Tiandel used."

  "Something to use against the monsters?" Princess Sera's eyes were round and innocent, but Kendall wouldn't trust her an inch.

  "No, just against the Black Queen. The Sentene and the Hand are dealing with the Eferum-Get." Sebastian turned from the princess to the Kellian girl making herself unobtrusive in the corner. "I wanted to ask you if you're related to Captain Illuma. You look very like her."

  "My mother."

  "She saved my life. I need to thank her, but haven't found a chance."

  "It is her duty," Sukata replied , putting down her knife. Kendall was sure she wasn't the only one who looked at the girl's hands. Like most of the Kellian seemed to, Sukata clipped the nails of one hand, but left the other pointed and alien.

  "Maybe. Is duty any reason to honour her less?" He turned his head to meet Prince Justin's eyes, and his gaze was so uncompromising that Kendall heard a couple of indrawn breaths. The prince flushed.

  "I should get back," Sebastian continued, struggling again to his feet. "Kendall, you don't mind leading me?"

  "Sure," Kendall said, taking a last hasty mouthful, then pushing aside her plate. She had no intention of remaining at the table to deal with the aftermath of that
stoush. Sukata, she noticed, wasted no time collecting the plates and retreating herself.

  "So what did that achieve?" she asked as soon as they were out of the room.

  "It made me feel better."

  "Your sister snubs the Queen and you turn your nose up at her heirs. Not really sensible."

  "Maybe." He scrubbed a hand over his face, and she noticed darkening shadows under his eyes. "I suppose I lost my temper. He ranked everyone there, watched them act like that, and made no protest. As good as countenancing it. He has a responsibility toward the people who serve his family. Besides, that wretched little girl was working toward asking if Ren really, truly wants her Grandmama's throne, and I didn't want to dignify that idiocy with an answer."

  "Do you think that's where she was going?" Kendall wouldn't have been surprised. "Not that you acting like the whole room was beneath you isn't going to put fuel on that fire."

  "The entire question's bizarre. The last thing I thought we'd have to contend with. Though–" He smiled. "The Surcleres were famed for two things: magic and arrogance. If it's the family reputation driving this, I guess I should stop trying to live up to it."

  He was leaning on her more by the time they reached the infirmary, and dropped heavily to the bed, dislodging a couple of books. Kendall picked up the nearest. It was written, not printed, and even when she made the effort to decipher the scratchings, it made little sense. Something about the way the Eferum was a globe around the world, but inside and through and behind or similar nonsense.

  "Control's the thing you need to work for now," Sebastian said, kicking off his shoes. "You work on control your entire life, but the least you should aim for is to be able to move an object with the same exactitude as you would with your hands. It's amazingly hard to manage, so start with just lifting and holding the pebble in place. Hold it unmoving as long as you can. Hugely dull, of course, but it will make a change from your Sigillic dictionary."

  "What do I need to be able to do to be a Circle-Turner?"

  "The basic ones about villages, you mean? Not much. Get a proper understanding of the sigils involved – there's about thirty in those 'don't cross' circles. Beyond that, just have enough control to maintain a flow of power to activate sigils. Most of those Circle-casters are as much mages as a boy with a broom is a knight."

  "Speaking of Surclere arrogance." Kendall shook her head when he grinned. "But how strong do you have to be? Nothing like your sister, I guess, but – are mages ever not powerful enough to turn circles?"

  "I don't suppose most travelling Turners have even summoned a focus, which is a good deal harder. The virtue of those circles is built up with constant reinforcement, not a single big casting. There's no huge power requirement." He gave her a swift glance. "The pebble felt like a mountain, right? That's not a gauge of your strength – you're using a limb you've never even felt before. It's like comparing a baby's strength to an adult's."

  "Then how can I tell how strong I'll be when I've practiced more? It matters, doesn't it?"

  "To a degree. The better mages have more strength in their focuses than intrinsically. The Force magic exercises will allow you to develop some of your natural potential. That will take quite a long time, and should also give you some idea of how much fine control you're able to achieve. Strength, control and sense are the three basics. Willpower is their foundation. And by then you'll probably know enough about magic to know if you're really a mage or not. Presuming they ever give you something other than a dictionary to read."

  "Whether I'm a mage or not? Is this more Surclere snootiness?"

  "Perhaps. Are you really a mage if you just follow the patterns set out by other people? The difference between a painter and someone who copies other people's paintings. Most of these people calling themselves mages, even in a place like this, just follow well-travelled paths. They'll never cast a Sigillic someone hasn't written for them, they don't even bother to try Thought magic. Symbolic they run scared from. Most of the major castings will be beyond them because those castings aren't just a matter of following a recipe, of writing a bunch of sigils and thrusting power into them. You need to be able to think, to see how it all fits together, and glimpse more."

  There was an impassioned little throb in his voice. Kendall looked from him to the piles of musty books, dry and dull. "You really love this stuff, don't you?"

  "It's what I am. I couldn't stop if I tried. Even Ren, who swears that if she lives through this she's never going to cast again, and will spend the rest of her life lying on a couch reading novels and eating cream cakes. She wouldn't be able to go more than a couple of weeks before some idea occurs to her and she has to experiment with it."

  "It's what you are." Kendall considered him doubtfully, then shrugged. "Well, even those broomstick knights get paid more than enough. If you're right about the strength, that's a reason either way to see what kind of mage I can be."

  "I've probably made you some enemies," he said, the thought obviously just occurring to him.

  "Maybe. But it was fun to watch."

  "Seriously, though. My fault for getting angry."

  Kendall thought about it, then shrugged. "I know where to bite to make people let go, and they've rules here that make it risky for the students to hurt each other. They already ignore me, thank Fel. I guess they could try and get me kicked out."

  Sebastian leaned back on his pillows looking tired and concerned. Not just making noises, but genuinely worried that he'd caused her trouble.

  "There's no cost to me, see? I didn't particularly want to come here, and it would probably suit me better to go find someone a bit lower level who would teach me instead of giving me memory exercises. Whether I'm a 'real' mage or not, it's a bankable talent, and I'm smart enough to get myself 'prenticed pretty easy. And if I don't like it – well, I can read and write and run errands."

  "And you were envying Ren." He sighed, his eyelids sagging. "You've something neither of us have."

  "What's that?"

  "The ability to walk away."

  Chapter Eleven

  Darasum House, the home of Earl Forinth, rested white and shimmering at the crest of a gentle hill. Before it, in what Rennyn was told was the Verisian style, was a great sweep of grassland exactly bisected by a series of terraced, stone-edged pools stretching halfway down to Carnell Lake. Spear-slim cypress in pale stone urns marched down the centre of the pool, with a rigidly kept herbal border keeping exact pace on either side. Between house and pools bloomed a rose garden of scrupulous symmetry.

  The Earl had been informed well in advance that an incursion had been predicted to take place on his estate. He was a bluff, slightly pompous man in his forties, all rosy cheeks and moustaches. Rennyn had found his mixture of affront and stifled pleasure in the proceedings rather endearing. Then Solace's focus had led them a third of the way down that magnificent, carefully-tended stretch of grass and the day had ground to a halt.

  Feeling sorry for both the Earl and the two Hand mages trying to calm him, Rennyn wandered back up the lawn and explored the roses. She was joined by the Earl's wife, Lady Risdale, a heavyset, red-faced woman who told her the names of different flowers and watched imperturbably as her husband gesticulated and shouted in the distance while the mass of Ferumguard and Sentene waited to one side.

  "How very out of place they look," Lady Risdale remarked. "Like some fantastical flock brought on the wind. Shall I go calm him? You must be anxious to prepare."

  "The breach isn't due till late afternoon." Rennyn glanced up at the high sun. "This parkland is worth a few minutes' protest."

  "Grass will grow back. And it will give him something to point to and boast of." Lady Risdale smiled indulgently. "He has been very excited, and will remember the alternative soon enough. He will dine out on what he sees tonight for years."

  Rennyn glanced sideways at the noblewoman, at the lines of care and humour on her face. "Don't," she said. "Watch them build it if you wish, but not the rest. Go into the
village for the evening. And send your servants away."

  "You think there is a risk some will escape this shield?"

  "I think you would not be able to describe what happens tonight and stomach a meal."

  Lady Risdale's smile faded, and she stood motionless as her husband made a dramatic gesture and began striding toward the house. "I have already sent the children to my mother. I will – wish you luck, Lady Montjuste-Surclere."

  Murmuring her thanks, Rennyn walked back down to the cluster of uniformed figures as they switched into action. By the time she reached them, Earl Forinth's sweeping lawn had a large circle cut out of it, beetles and earthworms squirming away from their sudden exposure. A spot toward the outer edge of the expanse of scythed grass seemed near enough, and Rennyn cleared and marked a far more modest circle, then spent some time casting defensive enchantments on herself. The Sentene had been discussing ways to overcome the practical difficulties of protecting someone in the Eferum, but if that was even close to easy, summoning focuses would not be so perilous. Captain Illuma was playing bodyguard today, and all she could do while her charge was in the Eferum was wait for her return. Rennyn thought she detected faint approval for her precautions, but doubted any of the Kellian enjoyed having their hands tied.

  Returning from Surclere, her small group had found almost the entire complement of Tyrland's Sentene and more than half of the Hand waiting at Fenlis, the village abutting Darasum Park. 'Change your tactics.' They weren't certain this referred to the shield, but Lady Weston had wasted no time after reviewing the report Captain Faille had sent ahead about the projection. She would not risk a repeat of Asentyr.

  Rennyn, stretching after a tedious round of casting, nodded brief farewell to Captain Illuma and fed the Sigillic until it shifted her into the cold embrace of the Eferum. Solace's focus, now attached to a chain and heavy bracelet, immediately dragged at her hold and nearly slipped free of her fingers. It had taken a major step toward being one with the Grand Summoning, and she shuddered at the weight of power it allowed her to sense.