by Beth Alvarez
The council met in a room adjacent to the office Firal now called her own. He'd been there a thousand times, but only as a spectator, a child with hopes of someday earning the right to his father's place. The door was closed. He didn't knock.
Conversation inside halted as the door creaked open and he stepped through. Firal sat at the head of the table, staring at him in a mix of irritation and surprise.
Rune half expected some sort of outburst. He knew the risk of appearing in the kingdom's colors with a crown that wasn't his. Instead, everyone present just gaped.
Ordin was the first to compose himself. The captain rose to his feet with awe in his eyes.
With her lips still parted in surprise, Kytenia followed. Then Rikka, Temar, Garam, and Tobias. One after another stood until only a few council members and Firal herself were left seated, the queen's mouth tightly pursed. If Rune hadn't known her, he might have thought it disapproval on her face. But he recognized something deeper in her eyes, something complicated and thoughtful.
“Majesty,” Rune said, pressing a hand to his heart as he bowed. It was the first sign of respect he'd shown her. It caught her off guard, as he suspected it might.
“As I was saying,” Firal said, tearing her eyes away as if he were no more of an interruption than a servant with poor timing. “There's no reason to believe they'll be released without action, either way.”
Despite Firal's indifference, those standing remained on their feet until Rune rounded the table and took his place in the only open chair. Placing him between Ordin and Garam made sense, given their positions. Ordin was chief of Firal's security and Garam had his self-proclaimed responsibility to see affairs carried out on the island before returning home. Yet Rune couldn't help but wonder if it was chance or oversight that he was placed between the two people he figured were his closest allies.
Everyone sank back into their seats after he settled, earning him a dark look from Firal. He returned it levelly, his face unchanging.
“It's obvious she's trying to prod you into action, Majesty.” Ordin rubbed his chin, though he looked like he'd rather rub his eyes. Everyone but Firal looked half asleep.
“As I said, now is the easiest time to act. I could have my child in my arms before noon.” Firal was curt, impatient. “A Gate in, a Gate out. I requested it before. Now I demand it.”
“I have no way of organizing mages in the temple to open a Gate back to the palace,” Kytenia said. Her voice was gentle but firm, and Rune mused over how it matched her appearance. She'd traded her charming yellow work dress for the stern white robes that suited an Archmage, but her face still bore a pretty sort of kindness, as it had for as long as he'd known her.
Firal snorted. “We shouldn't need them.”
“Why wouldn't you?” Rune traced shapes on the tabletop with one claw. Its surface was worn from years of use, dented and etched with countless words where pens had pressed too hard against paper. His thoughts drifted to how many decisions penned there should have been his to make.
“I already told you—”
“And as I told you, as I've said since the moment you first laid this task at my feet, I cannot help you.” Rune met her glare and raised a claw before she could speak. The desire to answer in belligerence floated to the surface, but he disregarded it. Anger had gotten him nowhere. It didn't matter how hot his hurt still burned. He was tired, and nothing was going to change Firal's mind. “Which you have continually misunderstood, choosing to take my words as refusal instead of what they are. I am not capable of doing what you ask.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You're demanding something far beyond my reach,” he continued, reclining in his chair. “Even if it were a good plan, I don't have the strength needed to transport us to safety, much less face a mage like Envesi.”
Firal shook her head as if to free herself from the weight of his words. “What are you talking about?”
“Magic.” Garam looked between the two of them and frowned deeply.
Rune nodded. “Even if I still possessed the strength I used to have, you're expecting me to stand alone against someone who was able to kill one of the most powerful mages the world has ever known.” His throat tightened as he spoke of Medreal. He swallowed hard to clear it.
“What do you mean, the strength you used to have?” Firal demanded.
“Tie magic with me.”
She made a sound of disgust. “I'm not an idiot.”
He shrugged.
On the other side of the table, Kytenia pushed herself up. “I'll do it.”
“Don't be foolish,” Temar hissed.
Ignoring her, Kytenia made her way around the table as Rune rose. She bit her lower lip and extended her hand.
He laced his fingers with hers, offering a gentle squeeze for reassurance. Slowly, energy trickled forth to weave their power together. She prodded the air around them and he led her in reaching for the power she couldn't tap on her own. It slipped away like grains of sand through their fingers, while the seal on his magic lit within him.
“Oh my word,” Kytenia breathed. Her voice sounded pained.
“What?” Alarmed, Firal planted her hands on the table and half rose from her chair. “Kytenia?”
The Archmage opened her eyes slowly and looked at Rune in pure pity.
“Kytenia?” Firal prompted.
The Archmage shook her head. “I... I don’t know. It’s there, the power, but there’s something...” She probed his energy, this time exploring him instead of his connection to the energy around them. She found what she was looking for with relative ease, some inexplicable force that pushed back when she tested it.
He flinched as the first warning pangs sparked in his chest. He’d never quite determined how the seal was connected to him, or to his power, but he always felt it there first.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“A seal,” Garam said. “Something barring him from reaching any real power, put in place by mages much stronger than you.”
Kytenia’s eyes filled with sadness. “Can you even do anything?”
“Enough to survive,” Rune replied. “Not enough to face someone like Envesi.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” a small man near Firal asked. He looked familiar, but Rune couldn't place him. The council had changed since his father's rule; he didn't recognize any of the people who hadn't stood when he entered.
“Come up with a better plan.” Ordin drummed his fingertips against the table. “Archmage, it's your temple. How do you want to handle the invasion?”
Kytenia hesitated.
Rune squeezed her fingers again and she started. Had she already forgotten she held his hand? She watched his face, thoughtful. Slowly, her fingers shifted between his, tightening their grip. It was a gentle display of solidarity, and perhaps something more. The contact gave him comfort. He suspected it did the same for her.
“I suppose the first thing we should do is determine if it really is an invasion,” Rikka suggested. “There were a lot of mages with Envesi, but I can't say if they were loyal to her. I saw several faces I recognized, including Kepha.”
“Kepha?” Temar gasped. “But that would mean they captured King Vahnil's entire party! Was she a prisoner?”
Rikka shook her head. “She looked well and walked freely among them.”
Garam cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but how many mages are we talking about, here?”
“More than Aldaan,” Rune said, pulling away from Kytenia and sinking back into his chair. The moment he broke contact, the tie between their magic dissipated. “More than the Grand College probably counts in its ranks.”
Garam let out a low whistle and rubbed his white beard.
“But we don't know that they're all against us,” Rikka insisted.
“And how are we supposed to find out?” Ordin asked.
“Simple,” Firal said, drawing startled glances from everyone at t
he table. “We ask Envesi. We already know she wants to meet with me. We’ll just have to work that to our advantage.”
Kytenia bowed her head and lingered behind Rune’s chair. “I don’t think we’ll need to consult Envesi directly. Not for that information, anyway.”
Rikka and Temar looked troubled.
Rune lifted a brow.
“What do you suggest?” Ordin asked.
“Yesterday, when Rikka brought word of Envesi’s arrival at the temple, she was followed by my sister.” Kytenia paced back to her chair and stood behind it with her eyes downcast. “Shymin told a different story, implying Envesi came peacefully.”
“Even though we already know she’s holding my family captive.” Firal shook her head and rubbed the space between her brows as if to keep it from crumpling with anger. “You're right. She knows more than I've given her credit for. More than I suspected or hoped, as well. So we speak to Shymin. Then what?”
“Precisely my question.” Ordin leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “We ought to have a solid idea what we’re doing before anything else.”
“Preferably something better thought out than opening Gates directly into the viper’s nest and shoving people through,” Rune said dryly, earning himself several glares. “I’m sure Captain Straes will agree that was a terrible idea to begin with. What’s supposed to come from snatching prisoners out of Envesi's grasp? No one could honestly think that would be the end of it.”
Color bloomed in Firal’s cheeks, though whether it was from anger or embarrassment, Rune didn’t know.
“He’s right.” It was the first Tobias had spoken. That he spoke at all surprised the others at the table. He sat with his arms folded over his chest, frowning and staring at the table without seeming to see it in front of him. “Snatching them out of her grasp without hearing what she wants would only make things worse.”
Firal threw her hands up, exasperated. “Then what do you propose we do?”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Tobias said, “I think we should ask the only person here who has experience fighting mages.”
Rune twitched as all eyes turned to him.
“Make a habit out of it, do we?” Garam intoned.
Shrugging, Rune sank lower in his chair. “Not intentionally.”
“Tobias has a point,” Ordin said. “Out of all of us who fought in the war, you’re the only mage who was on the other side.”
“Not that I did much fighting then, but I did learn a few things serving under Garam.” Like the captain beside him, Rune leaned against the table and laced his fingers together.
“And you worked with the Aldaanan,” Garam added. “Between their abilities and yours, you know what we’re up against.”
Firal nibbled her lower lip for a time. Eventually, she sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Then speak. What would you have us do?”
“We’ll need mages,” Rune said. “Lots of them. If her power is anything like what I’ve seen from free mages in the past, she’s strong, but not infallible. One on one, any mage against her is useless. But if we have a big enough group...”
“Swarm and overwhelm,” Garam said thoughtfully, stroking his jaw with his thumb.
Rune nodded. “Just like the college mages tried to do to us in Aldaan. It was all I could do to hold them off then. With the team of mages on my side, we might have an edge.”
“And if the temple mages have turned against us?” Temar asked.
“There are more mages in the world than just those in Kirban. We'll collect the loyalists in one place and add to them. The Grand College will support us. They won’t have a choice. Elenhiise is too valuable to Vicamros for the college to turn a blind eye.” Or for Vicamros to save the champion of his arena, Rune thought ruefully. He didn’t blame the king for what he’d done; politics always took precedence over personal matters, even when you weren't in charge of what might as well have been an empire. But he wouldn’t deny it stung.
“There are schools in the south as well,” Garam said. “I know someone influential down there. We can contact them, too.”
Kytenia shook her head. “Mages against mages. Who ever thought it would come to this?”
Garam chuckled. “It’s more common than you might think.”
The mages on the other side of the table looked at him strangely.
“So we talk to Master Shymin to determine the state of things, gather what mages we can, and put out a call for others,” Tobias said, ticking off his fingers and neatly brushing away any discussion on that topic. “Shouldn’t we figure out what we’re going to do to rescue the captives? That is what started all this, isn’t it?”
“No.” Rune kept his tone calm and level despite his rising irritation. “Don’t misunderstand. They are important, but there’s nothing to be done about the captives until Envesi is dealt with. Anything we do to try to remove them from her grasp now will only make things worse. Opposing her means we must do one of two things, or this will never end.”
Kytenia raised a hand to her mouth, aghast. “You’re suggesting we kill her?”
He’d almost forgotten the mages of Kirban adhered to different rules. According to the temple, killing another mage was forbidden. Convenient for Envesi, but not surprising, considering she’d written most of the rules and shaped them to meet her own agendas.
“Kill,” Rune agreed, “or sever her.”
All around the table, faces shifted between surprise and confusion.
“Sever?” Firal repeated at last, though she shivered as the word left her tongue. She already had an idea of what it meant, then; her tone conveyed disbelief rather than failure to understand.
“Is such a thing possible?” Rikka murmured, rubbing her arms to ward off a chill of her own.
“The Alda'anan teach against it,” Rune said. “But they aren’t here, are they?”
Tobias cleared his throat. “Forgive me, but there are no mages among my people. Save the youngest generation of children, that is, some them being born of unions with surface folk. I’m not familiar with this term, but it relates to magic?”
Garam nodded. “Cutting a mage’s ties to magic, in essence. Removing their ability to bend energy to their will.”
Tobias’s face crumpled in disgust. Even they had grown used to the comfort and convenience of mages in their midst.
“And you know how to do this? Sever someone from power?” Firal asked, giving Rune a hard look.
He nodded.
“You’ve done it?” Her voice took an edge.
He met her gaze, unwavering. “When necessary.”
She shuddered and turned away. Echoes of her words the night before haunted him and left him to wonder how firmly this helped cement it in her mind.
“I’m reluctant to agree to something like this, but I understand where you’re coming from.” There was a pinched look around Kytenia’s eyes, but otherwise, her face was smooth. She’d grown used to difficult decisions, it seemed. This was just one more for her to handle. “Of the options, I think cutting her off from power is better. Not because it spares her life, but because I can think of no better punishment for misusing her Gift than forcing her to spend the rest of her days without it.”
Rune’s brows lifted and the crown shifted against his skin in an odd reminder of its presence. He hadn’t considered that, and hearing it from Kytenia’s mouth came as a surprise. In a single sentence, she’d changed a great deal in his eyes. Severance was a cruel punishment for a mage, but well deserved. He nodded in agreement.
“However,” the Archmage continued, her expression growing stern. “If that’s the route we take, the knowledge of severance—and how to perform it—will need to be a closely guarded secret. That’s not the sort of thing we can risk other mages learning how to perform.”
Ordin frowned. “This isn’t common knowledge? I’d have thought you’d at least be familiar with the idea, Archmage Kytenia.”
“I don’t think this knowledge is
something you need worry about, Archmage,” Rune said. “Even if other mages saw it done, most wouldn’t have the capability to perform a severance. I’m not sure any could. As far as I know, severing can only be done by a free mage.”
“Which means you?” Firal tilted her head. “After we just discussed your lack of strength?”
He hesitated.
“We have options.” Garam leveled a hard look with her, an action that bordered on inappropriate. He was an esteemed visitor, well respected and entrusted with the responsibility of managing Vicamros’s business in the man’s absence, but he was addressing a queen. Others at the table shifted in visible discomfort, and he softened his tone. “If he thinks he can do it, then we’d all best believe he knows a way to see it done.”
“Yes,” Kytenia murmured with a wry smile. “His reputation for determination persists beyond anything else.”
“Has the island forgotten me already?” Rune couldn’t resist smirking at her. The look put a hint of a twinkle in her eye.
Ordin snorted a laugh. “I’m sure you wish you could get off so easily. I don’t think the island's people have forgotten either one of you.”
Firal’s face darkened. That smothered the brief spark of mirth, and both men's smiles faded.
“Watch yourself, Captain,” Rune said, shifting back in his seat. “Seems we aren’t supposed to talk about that just yet.”
Ordin cleared his throat and grew sober.
Rune straightened the sleeve of his coat and pretended not to notice the familiar embroidery. “As Garam said, it's still possible. I can use magic, I just can't reach it. But because my own power is bridled, I'm able to tie it with that of other mages. Something I couldn't do safely before.”
Firal bowed her head to hide a knowing look.
He pretended not to notice that, either. “I can draw power through others, but I'd need a lot of mages to work with.” He'd learned the hard way to control what he drew. Used to limitless power as he was, the might he drew through others was enough to risk burning them to cinders. He'd never figured out what made his abilities different, aside from that bound mages had restrictions woven into their very beings. Near as he could figure, tearing those restrictions down by pulling too much energy simply made people come apart at the seams. He'd never gone that far—not yet—but he'd come close. Those memories still haunted him. The people who shared their power with him were allies, friends. The only way he could be sure they'd be unharmed in a fight against a mage like Envesi was to be certain there were enough of them present and connected.