by Beth Alvarez
“They're at the temple,” Rikka said, lowering her voice. “She asked to speak to you, but we were holding council. Anaide decided we should meet with her in your absence. I came to you as soon as I could get out the door.”
“They? Vahn is there?” Now Kytenia felt ill. He should have been at the other end of the island, rounding up stray mages and sending them to Ilmenhith.
Rikka nodded. “With Lulu. He didn't see me, but I saw him. I think she's taken him prisoner too.”
“Then we have to tell Firal.” Kytenia picked up her skirts and turned to lead the way. She only made it a handful of steps before she realized she didn't know where Firal was.
Fortune intervened the moment she rounded the corner and found Captain Straes waiting politely out of earshot.
“Captain,” Kytenia said, “I need to speak to the queen right away.”
He jerked as if surprised. “Shall I find her and send her to meet you, or do you need to accompany me?”
“Archmage,” Temar called from behind her.
Kytenia groaned, looking over her shoulder. “Rikka, could you?”
“I'll go with him and tell Firal.” Rikka smiled and touched her shoulder in reassurance. “We'll be in the private parlor by her quarters when you're finished. I'm sure it's best we keep this quiet for now.”
Forcing a smile of her own, Kytenia nodded. That her sister and one of her dear friends were Masters at the top of the temple was a blessing she was thankful for every day. “I'll be along soon. Don't worry.”
Temar waved her back into the Gating parlor and Kytenia hurried to join her, stifling her irritation. What could possibly be more important than telling the queen that her husband had been captured? She tried not to think about the implications of the former Archmage being in the temple. The woman had been stripped of her rank and exiled. There was no doubt it would be an unfriendly meeting.
Kytenia rounded the corner into the parlor with harsh words ready on the tip of her tongue. The moment she saw her sister come through the Gate, they slipped away. Dread turned her heart to ice.
“Oh, you're here!” Shymin smiled, her mage-blue eyes sparkling. “I expected you'd be with Firal. No matter, I can carry a message to her if you wish to return to the temple right away.”
Wary, Kytenia lingered beside the door. Shymin's attitude was the complete opposite of Rikka's. Why would her sister be happy when their friend was frightened? “What sort of message?”
“King Vahnil has been reunited with his daughter. They await the queen in the comfort of the temple.” Shymin practically beamed as she recounted the news.
“Why didn't they come with you?” Kytenia glanced at the archway against the wall. She couldn't see the Gate, not from this side, but she felt the last of its crackling power fading as the portal closed. “Surely Vahn's as eager to bring Lulu home as anyone else.”
For a moment, her sister's cheery demeanor faltered. “They are in the company of mages who wish to speak to you. Allies who have information they feel is urgent to discuss. Vahn has joined them and agreed that temple business is best kept within the temple.”
Allies? Kytenia's skin crawled. Didn't Shymin know Envesi was there? Didn't she know Vahn was a captive? Kytenia inched forward, casting a sidewise glance to Temar. The Master of Ilmenhith watched them both with a frosty look in her eyes. Yes, there was something amiss. Temar saw it, too.
“A messenger came through just a moment ago saying the temple had been invaded by a hostile force,” Kytenia said.
Startled, Shymin stiffened. “Who told you that? That's ridiculous.”
“A mage sent by Anaide. She said the former Archmage was among them.”
Temar straightened, ready to seize the flows of power that drifted on the air.
Shymin hesitated, then nodded with a quiet sigh. “She is. But she means no harm, Kyt. You need to speak with her. You'll understand once you hear what she has to say.”
“Understand?” Kytenia almost laughed. “She kidnapped Firal's daughter and murdered the girl's nursemaid!”
“I know,” Shymin said, exasperated. “But you have to listen. She knows things, Kyt, things none of us have access to. Knowledge that went with Nondar to the grave. She can fix it! She can stop the decay of magic!”
The determination in her sister's tone sent a chill down her spine. The decay of magic. If Envesi had announced the decay upon her arrival, Shymin should have been surprised, concerned, maybe overcome with disbelief. Instead she spoke with confidence that came from long-held knowledge, while discussing a secret only Anaide and Edagan should have known.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Kytenia lied.
Shymin's face fell. “I know. That's why you must speak with her.”
Power lashed out beside them and Shymin shrieked as the air itself wrapped around her like invisible cords.
“Traitor!” Temar snarled as her face crumpled into a vicious scowl. “How could you? The Archmage is your own sister!”
“Temar!” Kytenia barked. She shot a panicked look in her sister's direction, but the order to release her died before it could escape. How could she defend her? She'd been moments away from snaring Shymin on her own.
“The state of magic was a secret sworn to the head of the temple,” Temar said. “Her knowledge betrays her.”
“As it betrays you,” Shymin snapped.
Kytenia raised a finger to order a halt to the argument and glared at the court Master. “Temar, what are you on about?”
The Master of Ilmenhith hesitated, but her grip on the flows of air around them never loosened. “You truly don't know?”
Drawing herself up to look as imposing as she could in a dirty dress, Kytenia peered down her nose at the older woman. “Tell me what you've heard.”
“Archmage, I don't think now is the time—”
“Now!”
Temar winced. “I have had many duties in the palace, Archmage. One was to watch over the Uncrowned Prince.” She spared a glance for Shymin. “I was told of his purpose, so I could understand the importance of my task.”
“And now you.” Kytenia turned her glare onto her sister. “How did you learn this?”
“I...” Shymin faltered, her mouth working without producing sound.
“With all due respect, Archmage,” Temar said, “I think it best if we speak further in private.”
Kytenia's jaw tightened and she gave a stiff nod. “Yes, of course. We shall see what the queen has to say of the matter. Perhaps Her Majesty has heard of this decay of magic, as well.”
Shymin flinched at the acid in her tone, but said nothing more. Her stiff posture eased as Temar let her go, but the Master mage stayed close, ready to seize her again. Kytenia was grateful for the intervention, but the knot in her stomach only tightened. She fought the rising illness and stayed composed.
When she'd spoken to Edagan about watching for leaks within the temple, she'd never imagined her own sister might be one of them. Worry, anger, and disgust mingled inside her, creating the most nauseating fury she'd ever experienced.
“Kytenia,” Shymin said softly, walking close behind her. “Envesi is trying to help. I know it's difficult to hear after everything that's happened, but I really think you need to speak to her. As Archmage, you owe the temple that much.”
Temar made an angry sound deep in her throat.
“The temple still looks to the royal family,” Kytenia said, keeping her voice calm through some power she hadn't known she had. “We speak to the queen first. Until then, we will discuss it no more.”
Shymin bowed her head and fell silent.
Temar strode beside her until they reached the queen's parlor, where she slipped in ahead of the two of them to be sure Firal was ready to receive them. Kytenia eyed her sister, nervous. If Shymin lashed out at her, would she be able to do what she needed to protect herself? The thought was troubling, but she didn't have long to think before Temar waved them in.
Though Kytenia expec
ted to find Rikka there, the Master of Wind was not in the parlor when Firal beckoned them inside. Likely for the best. Rikka had no love for the previous Archmage. Hearing Shymin take the woman's side might have sent her into a rage. Few people liked Envesi, but they had lost Marreli—Rikka's best friend—in the the war the woman engineered. They all had mourned the mageling's death, but none so deeply as Rikka. They had been the closest thing to sisters. Looking at her own sister now, Kytenia only just began to understand that loss.
Firal stood to greet them, though there was no friendliness in her amber eyes. “What is the meaning of this?”
Kytenia wished she knew. “Shymin comes bearing news from the temple as well. Her version is... different from what you may have already heard.”
Lifting her chin, Shymin stepped forward and spread her skirts in a curtsy. “I have spoken to King Vahnil,” she announced, making both Temar and Kytenia look at her in surprise.
Firal raised one dark brow. “Before or after he was taken prisoner alongside my daughter?”
“He is nobody's prisoner, Majesty. He is in the temple of his own free will. He is helping Envesi plan actions to instill safeguards that will preserve the existence of magic.”
“Don't pretend this is some urgent matter,” Firal snapped. “Magic will be here for centuries, no matter how diluted the old blood is. It isn't some limited resource that's at risk of disappearing overnight.”
Kytenia stared, dumbfounded. Did everyone know? Magic's failing was supposed to be a secret!
“Yes, I know what Envesi thinks she's doing. And I know you all foolishly think the shape of your ears means you're something special.” The queen's eyes flashed fire, her cheeks flushed with anger as her gaze fell on Shymin. “It's a lie, fabricated by the very woman you're defending. You've spent your whole life lamenting that you're half human, certain it affects your station in life. It's nonsense. The rest of the world knows better. The Eldani are nothing. Mongrels. There was only one true mage living on this entire blighted island, and Envesi killed her!” Curling her hands to fists at her sides, Firal stormed past them with tears brimming in her eyes.
Kytenia turned after her. “Wait! Firal, where are you going?”
“I've had enough of this,” Firal said, heaving the door open and glowering at all three of them. “Throw your sister in prison. Leave her to rot. I won't have corruption breeding in my kingdom. I will have my family back, one way or another, and don't you dare think you have any right to stop me.”
The door slammed closed, making all of them wince.
A hush fell over the parlor and lingered until Temar cleared her throat. “Well then,” she murmured. “Who are we to disobey the queen?”
Kytenia said nothing and turned to face her sister. All that could happen now would be unpleasant, but the Master of Ilmenhith beside her was right. Who were they to disobey?
“Bring me the reports on the mages returning to Ilmenhith. How many have been found, and how many have arrived.” Firal didn't so much as look at the guards as she swept past them on her way out of her private parlor. Only one fell in step behind her. The others ran to fulfill her orders as she made for her office. As if by magic, two more guards appeared in the hallway to station themselves at her office door the moment she arrived. One of the guards slid into her office ahead of her to ensure it was empty. She tried not to roll her eyes. Few people posed any danger to her. With as angry as she was at the moment, the Giftless were not high on the list, and she would have sensed a mage's presence already.
Still, she waited for the guard to emerge and give her the all clear. As she waited, Ordin Straes appeared at her heels.
“Is Rikka well, Captain?” she asked without turning to face him. The guard returned to the doorway and nodded, and Firal stepped inside.
“She'll be all right. She's settled in one of the guest suites. I expect she'll feel better after she has a bite to eat.” The captain hesitated at the doorway, sensing her temper. Unwilling to rile her further, he awaited her command.
“Come with me.” Firal's tone was curt, but she felt no remorse. “I need to speak to you. And Temar, as soon as she's finished in the dungeons.”
Ordin repeated that to one of the men by the door and the guard hurried away to retrieve the court Master. Then the captain cleared his throat and followed Firal to her desk. “May I ask why Temar is in the dungeons?”
“Not now.” She'd barely taken her seat before the door swung open and a white-robed mage hurried in with an armful of papers. Not Temar, but the answer to Firal's first order.
The Master plopped her collection of papers onto the desk, bowed to the queen and then to the captain, and waited for the flick of Firal's fingers before she took her leave.
Firal bit her tongue to hold back a sigh after the woman departed. The papers delivered were a jumble of rolled maps and missives, along with a few pages that were unrelated, save a few hasty notes scribbled in their margins. She shouldn't have expected proper reports and records so soon after Vahn's departure, but a handful of days should have been enough to at least begin organization.
Ordin's brow creased and he ran his fingers over the curled edge of a map. “Mage outposts?”
Sparing a glance for the open door, Firal spun a hasty ward around them. “If the temple is under siege, I need to know the location of every last mage on the island.” Every mage trapped inside the temple was one more shred of hope Envesi could tear away from them. Were the temple mages prisoners, too? Or were they there with the former Archmage by choice? Firal thought of Vahn and their daughter and her throat constricted.
As skilled a fighter as he was, Vahn was not Gifted. He couldn't hope to defend himself against mages of any persuasion. If any of the traitors raised a hand against him, would anyone come to his aid?
Ordin tapped a finger against the hilt of his sword and frowned in thought. “Should I summon Master Rikka? She may be able to give you an estimated number of mages currently in the temple.”
“No, not yet. Rikka will need her rest. Kytenia will be able to answer that question. Summon her along with Temar, but send another mage down to replace them. We will need a Master posted in the dungeons at all times.” Firal had never imagined she might have to give such an order. To her knowledge, the only other time a mage had been imprisoned in Ilmenhith was when... She caught her lower lip in her teeth.
Had there been mages posted there to keep him from reaching the flows of power that hovered all around them? She didn't recall it being necessary. How had they kept him from using his Gift? Or had they? He'd escaped while she cast Envesi through a Gate to the mainland, exiling the woman to the Grand College in Lore. Perhaps he'd merely waited until everyone was too distracted to notice him wielding the power he needed to break free of his chains.
Firal blinked to clear tears from her eyes and gave her head a small shake. Thoughts of Rune made anger bubble inside her. She couldn't afford that distraction now.
“If you would, Ordin, also summon a maid with a tray for tea. Mint, if you please.” She didn't exactly feel ill, but there was an uneasy knot in her stomach that made her think any additional stress would make her vomit.
“As you wish, Majesty.” The captain bowed from the waist with a hand to his heart, then retreated beyond the ward to relate further instructions to his men.
Letting the ward fall, Firal unfurled a map across her desk, dropped weights on its corners, and traced chalk notations with her fingertips.
Most of the mages from Wethertree had returned, leaving only enough Masters behind to open Gates for the transportation of those the king's men were supposed to send back to the temple or Ilmenhith's chapter house. So far, only a handful more mages had appeared, though messages had come from a half-dozen others to verify their impending return to the capital.
She followed the names of mages and outposts from those messages, drawing a curving line down from Wethertree toward Eldril. That was the region Vahn must have been taken from. If she sent a
team of mages back to investigate, perhaps she could gather a list of names and identify some of the traitors.
Could she spare any mages for such a task? It seemed minuscule in comparison to the problems looming before her. Though punishing those who turned against her would have given her great pleasure, she couldn't leap to anything that would hinder the rescue of her husband and child.
Still, there was something to be gleaned from knowing where he was found. The region was isolated and Vahn's group had traveled in secret, not telling anyone where they were headed next. If a group of mages had been ready to intercept them, it meant a turncoat in his company. The mage assigned to the party had been selected by Kytenia, which left her with one other likely suspect.
Her fingers crumpled a missive and her jaw tightened until she felt it twitch. Would he have betrayed his own son?
“I'll take it, thank you.” Ordin's voice jolted her from thought. She'd almost forgotten the captain was with her. He drew a tea tray from a maid's hands and pushed the door closed with his elbow.
He cleared his throat as he placed the tray on the edge of her desk. “Temar is on her way. Archmage Kytenia will be up shortly after. She wished to speak to the prisoner in private first.”
Firal nodded. There were few people left she felt she could trust, but Kytenia was one of them. After everything Kytenia had done for her, anything less than unwavering trust would have been an insult. If the Archmage desired a moment alone with her sister, it was the least Firal could offer. She poured herself a cup of tea and willed herself to relax. Aside from organizing her thoughts, there was little she could do until they arrived.
The tingle of Temar's presence entered her senses long before the door opened.
“Is all well, my queen?” The court mage was short of breath, but she smoothed her hair and righted her robes in an effort to look presentable.
“What do you think?” Firal snapped before she caught herself.