“All I know is these two attacked us.” I gestured at the still prone figures. “And these two saved me.” I pointed at the robed mages. “They appear to be officers of ours.”
I wrinkled my nose. “And presumably my watchers. Or protectors. Or whatever the Mage Council are calling them this time.”
“But I thought Lorcan said you’d come far enough in your training that he’d let you go home this time without them? Since no one had attacked you in over a year.”
“Apparently he lied.” I could hear the hardness in my voice, but I made no attempt to soften it. I didn’t like being lied to. And I had thought the Academy Head and I were past such deceptions.
“Don’t look at me,” said Martin cheerfully. “I just follow orders.”
“A good thing we were here, in the end,” said Carson, with a significant look at the two still unconscious mages.
Some of the shock of the attack had started to fade now that I knew my friends were safe, and I nodded at both Martin and Carson. I hadn’t seen any sign of them in the last three days which meant they must have been camping out somewhere under constant cloaking compositions. It couldn’t have been an enjoyable assignment.
“Yes, you have my thanks, both of you. I don’t know what would have happened without you.”
“Nothing good, I imagine.” Carson nudged the woman at his feet. “We heard this one yelling out. She sounded Kallorwegian to me.”
I shivered. I had never met a Kallorwegian in my life and didn’t have the experience to recognize their accent. But the captain had the hardened look of someone who had spent more of his life at the front line than anyone should have to, and I didn’t doubt his assessment.
“Well you have double thanks from me, then,” I said.
“And from us,” added Coralie. “I’m Coralie, by the way. Of Cygnet.” She named her family, a minor one.
I expected to see hidden contempt from the two officers since Devoras currently ruled the Armed Forces. They tended to consider themselves far too important for anyone not from one of the four great families. General Griffith’s twins, Natalya and Calix, had been two of my staunchest enemies in my first two years at the Academy.
But both of the men nodded politely.
“Captain Carson of Callinos,” said the older one.
“And I’m Lieutenant Martin of Ellington,” said the younger.
Of course. I was letting my exhaustion cloud my thinking. Every discipline included members from across the different families. A Devoras might command the Armed Forces, but the family didn’t own them. After I finished being angry at Lorcan for lying to me, I might thank him for at least being considerate enough to assign a Callinos and an Ellington to my detail.
Callinos and Ellington might be great families, but their members had always treated me with more respect than the members of Devoras and Stantorn. And that was aside from the fact that Devoras and Stantorn had both voted for my execution in first year, only for me to later briefly see one of my subsequent attackers among the Stantorns. Lucas had convinced me not to mention it to anyone, that I would never be believed, but that didn’t mean I had forgotten. He might trust Devoras and Stantorn, but I did not.
“You were right, Captain,” said Martin. “There’s a boat tucked away back there, snug as you please. From the looks of things, they’ve been holed up here for some time. Observing, waiting for the right moment, perhaps.”
I frowned. “Coralie heard them. In the bushes. I think it pushed them into acting before they were ready.”
Carson’s eyebrows rose. “Might explain the poor execution of the abduction attempt.”
“Are we sure it was an abduction attempt?” I asked.
“No question,” said Martin, holding up a length of rope and a gag he hadn’t been carrying when he headed for the river. “No doubt the Kallorwegians are itching to get their hands on our Spoken Mage.” He said the words with a slight proprietary air that made me twitch uncomfortably.
Carson gave him a depressing look, and the lieutenant made no more guesses as to the intentions of my attackers.
After a moment of silence, I sighed. “So, what now?”
“Our bindings will hold for some time longer.” Martin glanced back toward the bushes where the other two must have been left. “So I suppose we need to find some sort of transport that can get us all back to the capital.”
“Too risky,” said Carson immediately. “Four prisoners to transport as well as two trainees to protect, and only the two of us?” He shook his head. “And it’s already getting on toward dark, too. No. We hole up here for the night and send for help. Reinforcements will be here before morning, and we can head out at first light. With proper transport.”
“Hole up?” I asked with a sinking feeling. “And where are we going to do that?”
Carson glanced in my direction. “Your parents’ house is big enough for the purpose. And isolated too. No need to go searching for somewhere.”
I frowned. That’s what I had been afraid of. They obviously feared a further attack, and they wanted to put my family right in the middle of it.
I opened my mouth to protest when a ray from the lowering sun glinted off one of their silver officer robes. Angrily I slammed my mouth shut. I had already seen enough of Captain Carson to know that protests would be useless, and the gray soldier’s uniform back in my wardrobe at the Academy bound me to follow his orders. I would just have to convince my family to spend the night in Kingslee in the store. It might not be the most comfortable, but at least they would be safe there.
Several hours later, I huddled in my family’s loft, resting my heavy head against my mother’s shoulder. My father sat on my other side, the three of us watching Clemmy and Coralie as they slept in the two loft beds.
I should have known better than to think I could convince them to leave. Even Clemmy had protested so loudly and so long that my parents had relented and allowed us all to stay together.
“That captain seems to know what he’s doing,” said my father. “He’ll keep us all from harm, I have no doubt.”
My mother nodded her agreement, having uttered hardly a word since we had arrived in procession at her door. Two girls—Alice having hurried back to the village—two silver-robed mage officers, and four bobbing, unconscious bodies floating beside us. Even I found the sight unnerving, and I had studied the composition that caused it.
After examining the house, Carson had determined that Coralie, my family, and I were to shelter in the loft. He and Martin had produced four fresh compositions which he claimed would keep the prisoners asleep all night. A fifth one had sent power encircling the house, ready to act as an alarm if anyone approached, and a sixth sent a puff of power whooshing off in the direction of the capital.
He had spoken into the final ball of power first, and it had folded itself around his words, carrying them to an officer in Corrin who stood ready to receive such messages. My parents had looked at him as if he were mad, unable to feel the power that his composition unleashed or the way it interacted with his words. But I had been fascinated. I had read about such compositions and been wanting to see one in action for some time.
“A neat working,” I said as he directed us all toward the ladder in the loft.
“It has its uses,” he replied, “and its limitations. Only works if there’s someone ready to receive it on the other end. Too easy to get lost in the noise otherwise.”
I began to ask another question, but he gestured more firmly toward the ladder, and I subsided. As I climbed slowly upward, I heard him issuing quiet orders to Martin. The prisoners had all been piled into my parents’ bedroom, and he planned to keep all the internal doors of the house open. Carson would position himself in the main, front room of the house, and Martin would take the remaining room.
I might have doubted their ability to stay awake and alert all night except that I couldn’t imagine sleeping a wink myself.
Coralie had been far from her usual bubbly,
talkative self, and a bruise was already blossoming on one of her arms where she had taken the brunt of her fall. Every time I saw it, I winced, knowing she had only ended up in danger because of her proximity to me.
Clemmy had looked half excited, half terrified, and though I wanted to comfort her, taking on the role seemed to settle Coralie, so I left it to my friend to murmur reassurances to my sister. My parents had expressed no fear aloud, but the uncharacteristic way my mother clung to me did the talking for them. And although my head rested against her shoulder, I had never felt so distant.
My stomach clenched. Did I need any more proof that I no longer belonged in their lives? In only three days my presence had completely overset their ordered, safe world.
“I’m sorry,” I said, the words such a faint whisper that only our proximity and the quiet of the house let them hear them.
“Sorry?” My mother pulled away to look at me. “What nonsense is this?”
“I’m sorry for bringing danger to your house.” In spite of my resolution to be strong, my voice wobbled. “I’m sorry for being a mage. For changing so much.” There, I had said it. I held my breath as I felt their eyes meet over my head. Any moment now they would speak and finally confirm that they had been pushing me away because I was no longer the daughter they raised.
“Oh, girl of mine.” My mother sighed. After a breath of silence, she gathered me all the way into her lap. I didn’t fit there, curled awkwardly in on myself, my arms and legs overflowing in every direction. But the move was so unexpected that I didn’t protest.
For a moment I closed my eyes, and none of this had ever happened. My life was simple again.
Then Coralie whimpered in her sleep and rolled part way over. Reality came crashing back in. Simple meant no Coralie. No Finnian or Saffron. No Lucas. And it meant no written words. No wonder of reading, no exhilaration of composing. It meant words that were only dull and flat and lifeless. It was a past that had become too foreign to comprehend.
But still I craved the old easy assurance of my parents’ love.
“Elena girl, you are a wonder,” my father said quietly. “You and your brother. And your sister too. You need never apologize for who you are. Not to us. Not to anyone.”
“But you’ve…” My voice dropped. “You’ve been avoiding me ever since I got back.”
“Because we’re afraid,” said my mother. “And hasn’t today shown we have reason to be?” Her arms tightened around me. “Just imagine if those officers hadn’t been there. And even aside from the dangers…”
She hesitated, and I extricated myself from her lap so I could see her face.
“What do you have to fear aside from the danger?” I asked. “Aside from me?”
My mother shook her head. “I hope one day you will be a parent yourself, Elena, and then you’ll understand. We fear losing you. You live in a different world now. One of power and gold. With duke’s sons and a prince. How can anything here compare? How can we compare? I suppose you’re right, and I have been avoiding you. Because I didn’t want to hear you tell me you no longer fit here with us. You only made it back for a week this year. I was afraid to hear next year you wouldn’t be coming back at all.”
I stared at her in shock. I had spent three days stewing over the change in my parents, and this explanation had never occurred to me. I had doubted them, and I felt ashamed of it now in the face of their unwavering love.
“You could never lose me,” I said, looking between them. “You’re woven into my heart far too firmly to be removed. And no duke’s son could compare.”
My mother gave a half sob and pulled out a handkerchief, but my father watched me with eyes that were far too knowing.
“And what about a prince?” he asked, his voice hardly more than a breath. “Could he compare?”
I flushed and hoped the darkness would cover it. He nodded once, slowly.
“Watch yourself, Elena girl. Don’t get in over your head.”
I tried to think of a response but couldn’t. It was already far too late for such advice, but I could hardly admit as much to him.
Silence enveloped us, broken only by the deep breathing of Coralie and Clemmy, and the occasional rustle of movement from the officers downstairs. Released from my previous worries, I felt exhaustion pulling at me. Perhaps I could sleep after all. I swayed, my head pulling me downward toward my pillow until I suddenly remembered the reason I had been trying to get one of them alone ever since my arrival.
I sat up straight again and turned toward my father. When day dawned, I would have to leave for Corrin with the officers, cutting short my stay. This was my last chance.
“You said never to apologize for who I am. But who exactly am I?”
Chapter 4
My mother straightened, her voice sharp despite the low volume. “You’re our daughter, that’s who you are. As I told you when they first dragged you away. The mages themselves came and questioned us and confirmed it the truth.”
“Aye, that you are,” said my father. “You’re our blood, right enough, despite the wonder of you.” He paused. “Why do you ask? What lies have they been telling you?”
“No lies,” I said. “Unless my blood itself can lie.” But my own words fell on my ears with a false ring. I hadn’t tested the blood for myself—I wouldn’t even know how to begin such a task. My information came from Lorcan, and from Jessamine, the University Head.
And Lorcan had proved himself less than trustworthy.
I could think of no reason why he would lie about this, however. And he and Jessamine had been eager to hear if I could shed any more light on their information. It would have made no sense for them to lie.
“Blood? You are of my blood and your father’s. I swear it,” said my mother.
“That’s not in question, Mother. The issue is before that.”
My parents exchanged a confused look, although my mother looked somewhat relieved.
“You mean your grandparents?”
I shrugged. “Maybe? All I know is that my and Clemmy’s blood showed that we are not fully Ardannian. Or at least, our ancestry isn’t.”
“Not Ardannian?” my father asked in astonishment at the same moment as my mother said, “Clemmy’s blood?”
I bit my lip, a faint ghost of my former anger tainting my words. “They took both of our blood for studying. Don’t worry, I’ve let them know it can’t happen again. Not without our knowledge at least.”
My parents exchanged another look, but it didn’t hold the anger I had expected. Whatever passed between them flowed too quickly for me to interpret, and then my father was turning back to me.
“What do you mean not Ardannian?”
I shrugged. “That’s all I know. Something in our blood showed we have ancestry from outside Ardann.”
“Sekali ancestry or Kallorwegian?” He looked as if he meant to spit at the mention of our enemies, as so many commonborn did, but a single glance around made him hesitate. We had brought extra sleeping pallets up to the loft, cramming them into the limited space, and there was no safe target to direct his ire toward.
I shrugged again. “I told you. I don’t know. I was hoping you would know.”
“Your grandparents were all born right here in Kingslee,” my father said, sounding angry that anyone could question that.
The officers had snuffed out all the candles to give them a better view out the windows, so only the dim light of the moon filtered through to the loft. I could barely make out my parents’ faces and movements, so I nearly missed the subtle hand my mother placed on my father’s arm, or the brief look she flashed at him.
He took a breath and calmed somewhat.
“You know, I remember your mother telling me a story once,” she said to him. “It was so many years ago now I’d completely forgotten. She was telling me all about the romance between your father’s grandparents. How he left Kingslee and spent a year roaming Ardann. His parents despaired that he would ever return and take his pl
ace running the family store, but he eventually reappeared, and with a wife in tow. Said he found her in the northwest where her family had been killed by some illness. It was quite the scandal at the time, I believe, as he was considered one of the most eligible young men in Kingslee before he left.”
My father’s brow crinkled. “My mother never spoke to me of any romance that I remember. But now that you mention it, I do remember she used to make little remarks about my father’s grandmother being an odd woman. You think perhaps his grandfather traveled beyond Ardann?”
My mother looked thoughtful. “It’s possible, surely. Or that his grandmother crossed the border herself. Those northwestern forests extend far beyond the border on both sides. And although the border with the Empire has always been closed, there was no war with Kallorway back in those days.”
My father’s hands balled into fists at the mention of our western neighbor, no doubt giving him the physical outlet he couldn’t get through spitting.
“I suppose it’s possible,” he said reluctantly. “But we are talking about a great many generations back. I am sure we are hardly the only family to have such intermingled history. There can be no question of treason in such a thing.”
“Treason?” I stared at him. “No indeed. We don’t even know for sure that she was Kallorwegian.”
“Yes, calm down,” my mother murmured, almost too quietly for me to hear.
“Well, I suppose that explains that mystery,” I said. But what relevance could such a thing possibly have to my abilities? And even if it was somehow impossibly connected, why did my siblings not possess the same capability? Or my father?
I frowned. “There was one more thing.”
My mother flinched, and this time it was my father who reached over a steadying hand. My frown deepened.
Voice of Dominion (The Spoken Mage Book 3) Page 3