The Magic Mines of Asharim

by Pauline M. Ross

  I don’t know how long I was out there. It seemed a long time to me, and the worst of the storm had passed before Zak came to find me. His anger had gone, and all I could read in him now was sorrow and guilt and a strong undercurrent of fear. He brought a heavy cloak for me, although I was too wet for it to make any difference. Then he knelt and wrapped me in his powerful arms as tenderly as if I were made of porcelain.

  “Allandra, I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered. “I had no idea… I never meant… I’m sorry, truly.” Then, after a pause, “Xando explained… about your connection to minds. I didn’t realise, I would never have… You see, the hassalma is stronger in those with a connection. I knew about your connection to fire, I’d seen you use it, and I allowed for that. But the other… I didn’t know. And minds… The potion is designed to affect the mind, to change things… I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you, when it affected you so strongly. I was terrified for you. Sometimes people never come out of it. I’m so sorry. But you know that, don’t you? You can tell? That I mean it?”

  I nodded. I was too choked to speak.

  “Allandra, the mind connection… did it stop when you took the hassalma? Because Xando thought it did. He couldn’t read you, he said, and you didn’t react to things that would have bothered you before. But then it came back?”

  I nodded again. It was all I could manage.

  “And ever since, Xando and I have been at each other’s throats, and Renni’s been goading us, and… and I know we shouldn’t have, but… Well, that’s not the point. It must have been dreadful, to be exposed to all that.”

  He hugged me more tightly, and I clung to him, tears still dripping down my nose. Despite the cloak, I was shivering, and his mind was still a battleground of warring emotions.

  “Look… I don’t know how you’d feel about this, and it isn’t a long-term solution, but for now, just until you’re better… there is a way to deal with this.”

  Without letting go of me, he fished in a pocket and brought out the woven bag. Hassalma. That was his solution. I laughed, because really, it was ridiculous. And yet it made a perverse kind of sense.

  “Just a tiny amount,” he went on. “Just enough to shut out the cacophony in your head. What do you think?”

  I didn’t have the energy to refuse. I was desperate for something, anything that would make the pain go away, and if this was the only way, then that was what I would do.

  Once more I nodded, and he released his other hand, and broke off a tiny piece of the dough, perhaps a quarter of the original dose, and popped it into my mouth. Then he took me in his arms again, and we waited.

  It was quicker this time, and the effect was definitely muted. Oh, but the relief was glorious! I smiled as my mind went quiet at last. He smiled too.

  “Are you ready to go back? I left Xando and Renni heating water so you can wash and change. Then we’ll have third table, and after that, if you feel well enough, we must talk.”

  “Oh?” That sounded ominous.

  “Yes. We need to get things straight between us. And… it’s time I confessed a few things. I’ve not been entirely honest with you.”

  33: Confession

  Xando and Renni had filled the largest cooking pot with hot water. It sat in the bedroom steaming, with drying cloths warmed by the stove and clean clothes laid out for me. I’d have preferred a proper bath, of course, or anything big enough to soak in, but I squeezed into it, knees squashed against my chest, and felt suitably grateful.

  I was still chilled to the bone afterwards, even in dry clothes and sitting near the stove. I wore my thrower’s coat, as much for the warmth as to reassure my still agitated flickers, and Xando found me a dry cloak. It must have been Renni’s, I suppose, for all the others were soaked. I sat wrapped up at the table while the others worked around me.

  I ate little, picking at this and that, savouring the intensity of the flavours. It was noises that bothered me most. The spoon scraping round the pot sounded like the clash of the battlefield. The wood popping in the stove made me jump like a frog. And Renni’s voice – I winced every time she spoke.

  But her mind was closed to me, and for that I was sincerely grateful. Zak’s mind, too, although I regretted that more. Even when I accidentally touched Xando’s hand reaching for bread, there was nothing. It was blissful. All I was aware of was the muted hum of my flickers, settling back to their usual contented state, and my own thoughts.

  After we’d eaten and the plates had been cleared away, Zak brought a jug of wine from his bedroom, and four of the lovely Imperial glasses, and poured for each of us. Xando tasted it appreciatively, and even Renni made no complaint, for once.

  “Now,” Zak said, “I need to explain some things. I made a mistake in attempting this journey with so many…” He hesitated, looking round at each of us. “Undercurrents. This is a small boat, and I misjudged the difficulties. So I am going to be open with you all, in the hope that we can get to Mesanthia without killing each other.”

  I was the only one who smiled. Renni scowled, and Xando was solemn-faced, watching me surreptitiously, his gaze sliding away whenever I glanced his way.

  Zak took a sip of wine, then carefully set the glass down in front of him. “I am a member of a group called the Restoration. What we are working to restore is the Empire – in some form.”

  Renni snorted, and Zak raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged, her mouth pursed up as if there were a bad smell.

  “Look, if you have something to say, say it now,” Zak said. “Let’s not leave anything hanging.”

  She leaned forward on her elbows, eyes narrowed. “Mesanthia is stiff with groups like that. They sit around drinking endless stennish, and talking about how wonderful it will be and who they would like as Empress. Nothing ever happens. They are a joke.”

  Zak laughed. “True. I’ve joined some of those, and soon given up on them. But even if they’re ineffective, they demonstrate the strength of feeling. People want the Empire back. Or at least a degree of autonomy.”

  “You have autonomy,” she sneered. “No one tells your Middle Council what to do.”

  “Except the Tre’annatha,” Zak said quietly.

  “Nonsense!”

  “It’s the truth. The Middle Council has always wanted to build its own aquaducts, but your people say no. We want to reopen the canal to the sea, but again, no. I understand why outsiders want to keep us down – the Port, the Graenari, the Hrandish. They have their own reasons to oppose us: they want to keep themselves independent, and not let us get too much power. But the Tre’annatha… you live in Mesanthia, you are just as much Mesanthian as we are. Yet you won’t allow us to do anything without approval, even if it would benefit the whole city. You don’t interfere much, but you still keep us in subjection. Two hundred years after the Betrayal, and we are still under your foot.”

  “They want your children,” Xando said softly. “If you have your freedom, you will refuse the testing.”

  They. You. It was curious to me that Xando identified neither with the Tre’annatha nor with the Akk’ashara. He was truly an outsider. That made me wonder about Renni; whose side was she on?

  Renni opened her mouth to argue again, but I touched Zak’s hand lightly. “This is old history. Tell us about your group.”

  He smiled warmly at me, and I melted inside. I was so weak where Zak was concerned, yet he felt nothing for me. No, that was unfair. He didn’t love me, that was all. There was no distaste in his feelings towards me, just nothing beyond some kind of casual affection. Cautious friendship, perhaps. And, to be honest, he’d never promised me anything else. I’d let my own wishes colour my interpretation.

  He took another sip of wine while he gathered his thoughts. “The Restoration, then. It’s nothing like those talking clubs in Mesanthia. We have groups all over the Two Rivers, for one thing. Nothing violent; we’re not forming an army, or anything of the sort. It’s all peaceful. But we have a structure, a hierarchy. There are
three branches. The dragon…” He pointed to the symbol carved on his glass. “The organisers. The brains. We receive orders from them. They also work at the highest levels in Mesanthia to try to find a negotiated solution. Then there is the whale…” A spin of the glass. “The main body, the workers who have various necessary skills. And finally, the lion.” He pointed to the third symbol. “The recruiters. Me. My job is to find people sympathetic to the cause, and organise them into small local groups.”

  “You truly are a rebel,” Xando said, but his tone was surprised, not shocked.

  “Yes. After I left Mesanthia, I was in Graendar for a while, helping set up a group there. Then Verrynshia, on my own that time. Now Brinmar. You’ve seen my methods. I work with women, mostly, but they bring in their brothers or lovers, too. The golden snake is the symbol,” He pointed to the tattoo on his arm. “I show that in public so that other Restoration members will know who I am. But…” He turned to me. “You recognised it, didn’t you?”

  “Mmm. My husband was a member.”

  Zak’s eyebrows flew upwards. “Really? You amaze me. But he would have been a dragon, I expect.”

  “Possibly, although he never mentioned that. He was very secretive about it, and his tattoo was in a much less prominent place. Now that I think about it, I suspect my father was a member, too.”

  “Well. Interesting. But now you can see why I was so wary of you.”

  “Yes, I—”

  “But I do not see,” Xando said. “What is there about Allandra to be wary of?”

  “I am from Mesanthia,” I put in. “I have high birth rank, I have a connection and I turn up with a Tre’annatha.”

  “I do not quite—”

  Xando was slow, sometimes. Another time, I might have been impatient with him, but the hassalma had mellowed me. “Anyone with a connection must be in the Program,” I said calmly. “So naturally Zak would expect me to be acting under Tre’annatha orders. Your orders, since you were with me. He would assume that you were bringing me to Brinmar for some devious scheme or other.”

  “Exactly,” Zak said.

  “But I am known at Brinmar,” Xando protested. “Surely no one suspects me of anything devious?”

  That was true enough. Xando was a very straightforward person.

  “You are still Tre’annatha,” Zak said. “It could be that you were sent to infiltrate Brinmar, and once you were established, to introduce Allandra there. I couldn’t be sure of either of you, to be honest. And when Allandra seemed particularly interested in me – you can see how I might want to keep my distance.”

  He passed round the jug of wine. I had hardly drunk any, but everyone else refilled their glasses.

  “The only problem with that line of reasoning,” I said, “is that I arrived at Brinmar with a whole troop of Hrandish warriors on my tail. Didn’t that convince you of my honesty?”

  “That was a puzzle, I admit. It was quite convincing, I’ll grant you.”

  “Quite convincing!” My jaw dropped. “They were trying to kill me!”

  “All of us,” Xando added quickly.

  “No, I don’t think they were,” Zak said. Xando protested, but I could see the twinkle in Zak’s eye so I waited for him to explain. “They were certainly shooting arrows and such like,” Zak went on, “but they all missed by a wide margin. Well, those that didn’t get burned to ash, of course. Have you ever known Hrandish warriors be so inaccurate?”

  He grinned at me, an intimate smile, as if sharing a private joke. It was very distracting. Yet when I thought about it, I could see that he was right. We’d never been in any danger.

  “So they wanted to take me alive,” I said slowly. “But you – they weren’t so inaccurate with you.”

  “No. They wouldn’t have cared if I was killed. That would make it easier to capture you. As I say, it was quite convincing.”

  Another beaming smile, as he waited for me to get the point. I could hardly believe it. “You thought I’d set that up? To persuade you that I was a rebel too? What a devious mind you have. Word of the Empress, but I can think of easier ways of infiltrating Brinmar.”

  He laughed at that. “Yes, I came to that conclusion, too. You were genuinely a thrower, so all you had to do was to walk in. And all the stories that were put around about you turned out to be true. So I realised you were exactly what you seemed. But then you told me about your plan—”

  “Wait a moment!” Xando said. “You have told him your plans?”

  “Only in general terms,” Zak said airily.

  Renni spluttered, but Xando’s expression warred between offended and disdain. Even though I couldn’t see into his mind, I knew what was going on. Part of him wanted to know, and was upset that I hadn’t shared my plans with him. But he also wanted to trust me, and that meant not questioning me, ever.

  Renni was less delicate. “What plan? Is there another plan, apart from marrying this prince fellow?”

  “There is,” I said briskly. “And none of you need to know the details.”

  “No, of course not,” Xando put in.

  Renni just spluttered again, and folded her arms.

  “Sweeteners,” Zak muttered, and rushed off to the bedroom. He came back bearing a small wooden box. Lifting the lid revealed an array of almond paste in the shape of flowers, all of them different. Ah, that sort of sweetener.

  “These are just… almond paste?” I asked him. “No secret ingredient?”

  “You are getting very cynical, but no. I am bringing out all my secret treasures – the wine, the flower sweets – to demonstrate that I am keeping nothing from you.”

  “Or to distract us, perhaps,” I muttered, but he just smiled at me and passed the box around.

  Renni fell on them with gusto. The men took one each, while I nibbled a petal or two, but they were too sweet for my heightened sensibilities.

  Zak twirled his wine glass, staring into the depths as if for inspiration. I couldn’t tell where he was heading with his confession, or how much he intended to share with the two Tre’annatha. In the distance, the faintest rumble suggested that the storm had not yet blown itself out.

  “So you are not going to take us into your confidence.” It would be Renni who asked, of course.

  “My aims are the same as Zak’s,” I said. “Beyond that, you need know nothing about it.”

  “But you have told him,” Renni said, pointing an accusing finger at Zak. I winced at her tone, and Xando put a warning hand on her shoulder.

  “I know nothing, apart from the general aim,” Zak said. “But it’s not hard to guess the principle. Knowing how the Empire ended, it’s obvious what needs to be done to restore it.”

  Renni sighed melodramatically. “You love to talk in riddles. Can you not speak plainly?”

  “Water,” Xando whispered. “The Empire ended because the water from the Durralar River was lost, and now Hurk Hranda controls it. Allandra is going to Hurk Hranda. But… is it possible? Can you do it?”

  “I intend to try,” I said crisply. “And now you know my plans, which I suppose was what Zak intended all along.”

  Zak laughed, not at all discomfited. “It is better that we are all aware of what is really going on here. Xando is right. The Betrayal destroyed our water supply, and nearly destroyed Mesanthia.”

  “And the Tre’annatha saved you,” Renni spat.

  “At a price, yes. A price we are still paying. We cannot be free once more until we have control of our own water supply. No one’s managed to find a way to do that up to now, but now we have another chance to try.”

  He glared at them across the table.

  “And now you two have to make a decision. Your natural alliance is with the Tre’annatha, the real rulers of Mesanthia. Allandra is going to try to overturn that arrangement, and I will do all in my power to help her. Which side are you on? You have until Mesanthia to decide. But let me tell you this: if you make the wrong decision, if you try to interfere or prevent this, it will go badly
for you.”

  There was no reaction from Xando, but Renni’s face reddened. “Are you threatening us? I thought you said your little rebellion is non-violent?”

  “So it has been, up to now. But as soon as things get serious, that will change. So you need to make up your minds, and soon.”

  I jumped in before Renni could explode. I didn’t think I could cope with her screeching voice if the tone rose any higher. “Please! Please don’t fight any more. Talk, if you want, but don’t shout at each other.”

  Zak reached for my hand. “I’m so sorry, Allandra. You’re right, we shouldn’t be so… confrontational. I’ve made things more difficult for you, I’m aware of that. I was suspicious of your motives, and, I confess, I enticed you into my bed and gave you the hassalma to find out what you really planned. Truly, I’m sorry that went so awry.”

  “You could not have known,” I said. I spoke calmly, but that was the hassalma in my blood; when it wore off, I’d be angry about what he’d done to me.

  “No, but now that I do, I worry about you at Hurk Hranda. That’s a wild, undisciplined place, full of violent men. I can’t imagine being exposed to their minds.”

  “I will not be out on the streets,” I said. “The women’s quarters are very secluded. Besides, I can use hassalma, now that I know what it can do.”

  “That’s true.” His face brightened as he spoke, and my heart lurched. He did care for me, after all! Enough to worry about me, anyway. Or perhaps he just wanted to make sure nothing would interfere with my plans.

  I was relieved myself to find some way to cut out the emotions of others. Hassalma was easy to get in Hurk Hranda, so I could protect myself any time I had to be in a big crowd.

  “Is it strange for you?” Xando asked. “Being able to close it all off at last, I mean?” His voice was sympathetic. It was so good to be talking to him again, as a friend. Those big, hurt eyes had gone, at least for now.

  I detached myself from Zak’s hand. “It is, yes.”

  “Strange for me, too. Not being able to read you, I mean.” I hadn’t thought of that. It would be disconcerting for him, I could see that. “And the other part… everything being so… so vivid. Is that strange, too?”