by C. G. Garcia
“How come he wasn’t here before?” she asked.
“He wasn’t needed then. My taking you as a ward was already granted and documented in the Council session I just returned from, so my presenting you was only a formality. His Majesty is going to grant you citizenship now, so it needs to be officially documented. Don’t worry. All that is required of you is to agree to the terms he speaks before you.”
“Do you wish to be granted citizenship, milady Allison?” King Diryan abruptly asked, capturing her attention again. Voytek finally took his eyes off her long enough to begin to scribble furiously on the piece of parchment he carried.
“I do.” I think.
“Under the laws of Lamia, once citizenship is granted, you cannot renounce it unless I forfeit it as a penalty for a crime committed against the welfare of the kingdom. You cannot, under any circumstance, seek to obtain citizenship elsewhere while a citizen of Lamia. Do you understand these terms?”
“I understand.” Does this mean I can’t ever leave the kingdom?
“Permission must be petitioned and obtained from this Council if you desire to leave our borders. It is a serious matter since the Shield must be opened in order for anyone to leave the kingdom.”
“I understand.” Well, that answers my question. He makes it sound as if I’m a prisoner here, my freedom given up willingly in exchange for the protection of Lamian citizenship. If things were really bad on the outside, I suppose it would be a price worth paying. Apparently these people think it is, or else I don’t think they would have given up their freedom to come and go as they please so willingly.
“Then I grant you citizenship, Allison McNeal. Aidric, come forth and place the seal of our kingdom onto the brow of your ward.”
Aidric rose and stepped up to her. Before Allison could even begin to wonder what he was going to do to her, he pressed a hand firmly against her forehead. She felt a curious coolness sink into her skin. A few seconds later, the coolness completely disappeared when he removed his hand.
“What did you do to me?” she whispered anxiously.
“Shh. Don’t speak aloud. I did as Diryan said—placed the seal of Lamia, the silver teardrop you see on the tapestry behind the throne, onto your brow so you’ll be detected as a citizen by our border guards should you ever need to leave the kingdom. Don’t fret. It’s not visible to normal sight. Just as it is to see the energy of the Mage-field, Inner-sight must be invoked to see the seal.”
Relieved, Allison allowed Aidric to lead her with a hand against the small of her back to her seat. She was surprised when the queen rose to immediately follow.
“Come dear,” the queen said gently, holding out her hand to Allison while Aidric smiled encouragingly at them both. “This Council meeting will no doubt continue on for some time now. Your presence or absence will not make much difference.”
Allison nodded and took the delicate, ivory hand offered her and allowed the queen to escort her out of the Throne Room. However, as the two women made their way down the aisle, Allison’s skin crawled as she felt one distinct pair of eyes out of the many trying to bore a hole into her back following her as though somehow physically connected until they disappeared through the double doors, eyes that held a disconcerting fear.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Galen tensely watched the golden-haired woman as she left the Throne Room with the queen. When he had first set eyes on the Golden Mage after the Mage-general and she had walked so dramatically through the golden doors, he had felt an immediate fear. The Prophecy of the Golden Mage had always unnerved him from the first moment he had heard it at the age of five. Then the dreams had come.
For the past two years, he had suffered from nightmares involving the Golden Mage. Not knowing whether they were a result of his Foresight ability or his own twisted imagination, they had truly frightened him, yet he told no one about them, not even his wife.
He had seen Lamia in ruins, bodies of friends and acquaintances littering the kingdom. All had been aflame, green mage-flames eating away at their flesh and clothing. All but he had perished in the flames. He had watched in helpless agony as his wife and children burned to ashes, weeping over the family he could not save.
The dreams, no matter the difference in their beginnings, would always end the same. He would glance up and see the Golden Mage, the murderer of all he had ever loved, staring down at him, her smile mocking and cruel. Her body glowed with that same eerie green of the mage-flames around her. Always, she would raise a hand to strike him dead, but before the blast came, he would always wake up, drenched in sweat and weeping.
Galen had always assured himself that his nightmares were not Foresight warnings but mere dreams in an attempt to prevent himself from facing what could be the horrible truth, until he had his first glimpse of Allison McNeal and realized that she and the Golden Mage of his dreams were one and the same. It was at that fateful moment that Galen could no longer deny what his dreams had been screaming out to him in warning—predictions of the possible things to come.
Only years of experience as a mind-mage skilled in keeping his mind calm no matter how stressful the situation prevented him from screaming hysterically like a fool when Allison appeared. He held his peace with tremendous effort throughout her presentation and King Diryan’s subsequent monologue. He almost lost control of himself when the king asked if there were any who wished to voice their opinions concerning the girl. Even now, he wasn’t entirely certain how he had managed to remain silent.
His dreams were a matter that could only be discussed with His Majesty and His Majesty, alone. After Lady Gaelle’s suspicions were proven to be nothing more than her usual show of arrogant superiority, he didn’t think the Circle would give his claim of Foresight dreams a second thought, especially since his Foreseeings had been wrong a couple of times in the recent past.
Furthermore, judging from the venomous way Lord Aidric had glared at Lady Gaelle when she had challenged the honor of his ward, only a fool would have said an ill word against the girl in the Mage-general’s presence. That was one mage Galen preferred not to cross directly.
After the queen led The Golden Mage out of sight, Galen wasted no time in drawing the king aside and asked if they might have a word in private. King Diryan nodded and left his counselors in charge of the discussion he had begun regarding the latest strategy in forcing Roderick’s troops from the Kemosian border.
In the farthest corner of the Throne Room where they were well out of earshot, the king demanded, “This had better be important, Galen. Border conditions in Kemos are continuing to worsen, and I don’t have the time to spend on minor concerns.”
“It’s very important, Your Majesty,” Galen assured him. “It concerns the girl, Allison.”
“I thought we had finished with that business, Galen,” Diryan said impatiently. “You had the opportunity to speak earlier when I called for voices. Why didn’t you speak up then?”
“This is something I couldn’t discuss before the Circle,” Galen insisted, “especially in the presence of the Mage-general. What I wish to say is for your ears alone, Your Majesty.”
“Very well,” Diryan invited. “Speak your mind, but I warn you that I can only spare you a few moments. We have given enough time worrying over the girl and her destiny when it’s in Seni’s hands, alone.”
“I have been sent a warning,” Galen said. “For two years, I have had dreams of the Golden Mage, dreams filled with visions of horror and suffering that would drive any sane man mad. In these dreams, the whole kingdom has perished, consumed by the girl’s mage-flames. I am convinced that these were not mere nightmares, but a Foretelling of the tragedy that will certainly befall us if we allow that demonspawn to breathe another day!”
His expression hardening, King Diryan asked in a fierce whisper, “Have you gone mad? I never thought you to be so heartless. Nothing, even the potential danger that poor child poses, would justify the murder of an innocent! You know as well as I that it was by Se
ni’s will that she was brought here to our kingdom as the Golden Mage, and fate, alone, will decide which path she is destined to follow. We can only pray to Seni that it isn’t the dark path that fate will choose.”
“But I have Foreseen the destruction of Lamia!” Galen cried. Did he not understand? “Surely you won’t idly stand by and allow this! Is the life of one girl worth the life of millions more?”
“Since you are clearly frightened and allowing your emotions to speak for you,” the king said slowly, a note of warning in his tone, “I shall forget that last part. Foresight dreams warn of only one possible future as you know very well. Yours may never come to pass if we do everything in our power—which morally we can do—to take the correct cautionary steps to protect the Golden Mage from falling into the wrong hands.”
“Then you will do nothing?” Galen asked incredulously.
“Nor will you,” Diryan said darkly, his eyes narrowing coldly at the stranger the normally genial man before him had become, “because mark my words, if I find that you have taken it upon yourself to be judge and executioner to her, then you will not live to breathe another day.”
Galen shuddered at the anger in Diryan’s voice as the king silently stalked away without another glance. Never in all the years he had known the king personally had he ever seen such ire and coldness in him. He had been so certain that His Majesty would see things as he saw them, and now that he stood rebuked, he didn’t know what to think or do. King Diryan had said that his dreams might not come to pass, but those words meant to assure did nothing to relieve the terror festering in his heart.
If I can’t destroy her without having to face a penalty of death, then I sure as the six hells can watch her every move, and when she turns to evil as I know she will, I’ll be there to do what should have already been done!
As he glanced over at the king and his fellow members of the Circle, he had one last fleeting thought before he walked over to join them again. Even though you may not wish it now, My Lord King, when this is all finished, the demonspawn will lie dead at your feet by my hand and you’ll be begging most humbly for me to accept your apology!
***
“Aidric tells me that he plans to take you to tonight’s celebration of the Birth of the World,” the queen chatted gaily as they made their way up a flight of steps and to Allison’s astonishment, straight through the wall behind a large, golden statue of a man in a crown that rested at the top of the stairs. The queen laughed cheerfully at Allison’s gasp of surprise, and explained that the wall was merely an illusion spell cast over the doorway.
“I believe that it’s a splendid idea to attend the festivities as your first social engagement as a citizen of Lamia. I’m sure you will meet and befriend dozens of people. However, I do believe Aidric has not even given thought to what you will wear. You can’t very well go dressed in your apprentice uniform! It’s not proper. Until you can be fitted for your own garments, I’ll lend you some of mine since we are near to height. Accond, our palace tailor—Seni, bless his heart—is indeed very skillful in his trade, but I must confess that his one flaw is that he isn’t very punctual with his orders.”
When Allison merely blinked at her, the queen smiled and said, “Oh, but listen to me, jabbering on when I haven’t even properly introduced myself. How ill-mannered of me to have not done so earlier. My name is Ileanna, and don’t you dare address me as ‘My Queen,’ ‘My Lady Queen,’ or other such nonsense unless we are at court where the law demands such foolish courtesies. I dislike all these formalities having a crown demands.”
Allison could hardly believe what she was hearing. This beautiful woman, a queen no less, was chatting away as if they were old friends, even though they had only first met moments before. More importantly, she showed no signs of the fear and suspicion that everyone else seemed to have when they looked at her.
“Why is it that you aren’t afraid of me when so many others obviously are?” Allison couldn’t help asking in bafflement.
The older woman looked at her kindly and said, “My dear child, any fool who bothers to look at you with a clear mind could plainly see that you are as frightened as they are. Why should I fear someone who is so obviously as much a pawn of Seni’s will as we, ourselves, are?”
Allison lowered her eyes uncomfortably. “You’re being so nice, and you don’t even know me…”
“My dear, when I’ve seen how kindly Aidric looks upon you, how can I do anything but treat you the same? Aidric is a dear friend to both Diryan and me, and we value his opinion of others. However, that isn’t the only reason. I could see you needed a friend other than the friendship Aidric can offer.” She smiled wryly at Allison. “He is a man after all, and not knowledgeable in womanly things.”
“I’d like that,” Allison replied a bit diffidently.
“Now come. I’ll introduce you to my ladies-in-waiting, as well. They should be gathered in my chambers awaiting my return. We needn’t hurry selecting a proper dress for you to wear since it is still many sand-marks until nightfall. While my husband and the Circle tend to matters of war, we’ll spend the afternoon happily answering as many questions as you like about palace life and our kingdom.”
“Thank you,” Allison said, her head spinning from Ileanna’s chatter. “I do have dozens of questions to ask about Lamia, especially since it seems I’ll be living here in this world for the rest of my life.”
“You sound so sad, child,” Ileanna remarked, tilting her head with concern. “You are missing loved ones, no doubt, and all this talk about the Golden Mage and doomsday prophecies cannot be easy for you to accept. I promise you that I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel more at home here.”
“You already are,” Allison replied gratefully as she followed the queen to her chambers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hidden within the shadows behind the throne, a figure watched the king and the mind-mage, Galen, as they moved to a secluded corner to speak. Perfect. Knowing Galen, they would be occupied for a few moments on whatever grievance that sniveling fool had this time. Luckily, a few moments was all that was needed.
After one final glance in Diryan and Galen’s direction to make sure they were still occupied, the silent observer settled comfortably onto the cool, marble floor and prepared to thought-speak the Master. Since three of the most powerful thought-speakers in Lamia aside from the hidden observer currently occupied the Throne Room—Aidric, Galen, and Gaelle—the Observer needed to be extremely careful this time sending his message. If his mind-shield was anything less than perfect, then one of the three would likely sense that someone was using thought-speech and investigate because of the distances involved in the sending. The distance, alone, would instantly condemn him. The Observer couldn’t allow carelessness to ultimately sign a personal death warrant.
“Master…?” the Observer carefully sent after a few moments of concentration.
“Speak,” came the faint, immediate reply.
“I’ve learned something today that I think you’ll find of interest. There’s a great uproar in the palace concerning the mysterious arrival of a maiden into Lamia.”
“A maiden?” The Master asked skeptically. “How could the arrival of one maiden, no matter how unusual she may be, cause such an uproar? I find the idea absurd. Why are you bothering me with that courtly gossip? I sent you to Lamia to learn Diryan’s military strategies, not to wag your tongue with those arrogant fools.”
“Oh, but Master,” the Observer said hastily, “she’s not just any maiden. The Lamians think she’s the Golden Mage of their ancient prophecy.”
“What!” Roderick exclaimed loudly, his voice echoing painfully throughout his spy’s mind like thunder. “Can this be true?”
“I’ve seen her with my own eyes, Master. She has hair of gold, and from what was said in court, she lived within a realm different from our own before appearing here this morning. She was also given to the Mage-general as an apprentice, so her mage powers must
be great to warrant such a teacher.”
Interesting, the Observer heard his Master think to himself, a trick the Observer’s master had no idea he could do. Most interesting, indeed. If that claim holds true, I may yet still have a chance of claiming Lamia as my own. If I were to have the Golden Mage under my power, and if the prophecy holds true, then nothing would ever stand in my way again. Lamia’s Mage-field would be mine to control at last!
Hearing the Master’s thoughts while they thought-spoke over great distances, and only over great distances, was a surprising side effect that the Observer did not feel inclined to disclose. Any edge held over his master, no matter how small, was an edge that no sane person would relinquish willingly. The Observer refused to even contemplate what would happen if his master ever learned this secret.
“What will you do, Master?” The Observer asked innocently.
“For the moment, nothing,” the Master replied, his mind-voice distant. “She must be untrained if she was given to Aidric as an apprentice. Untrained, she is of no use to me, and I don’t have the patience to train her myself. No—let the Lamians deal with her for now, but in the meantime, I do believe that I have an addition duty to add to your plate. Since you obviously have an ear for gossip and the access to court, you will keep an ear out for word that this so-called Golden Mage is near to adept status. If the legend holds true, it shouldn’t take long at all. You must contact me immediately the moment you hear word. The Horae must not proclaim her a mage, else I cannot hope to control her mind, thereafter.”
“It’ll be done. I swear it.”
“Good. Now go before you are discovered.”
The Observer slumped over in exhaustion as the link to Roderick’s mind was released and shuddered weakly as he tried to push away the darkness that was starting to seep into the edges of his vision. It took a considerable amount of concentration and power to thought-speak with his master. The Master was not a powerful thought-speaker, so the Observer had to search for his thoughts and extend their range in order for the Master to be heard. It was a highly complicated and energy-draining process, so it often left the spy feeling like a piece of chewed meat that had been dragged through the six hells of Ter-ob.