“Oh – about a year, but not for much longer. My contract now is a pregnancy only type, and...” I waved a hand over my belly, and he laughed. “He’s about to marry the Bai-Drashonor. So although I’m legally still a drusse, I’m free of all obligations.”
“Oh. So then you and the Lord Mage...?”
“Cal? Oh no. There’s nothing...” Awkward. Cal was more than a friend to me, but I hardly needed to elaborate on the exact position with a stranger like Lakkan. “He’s my mentor, that’s all. He’s teaching me.”
“Ah.” Lakkan reminded me a little of Drei, the same charm, the same well-honed body – even more manly than Drei’s muscles, in fact, for Lakkan was a guard, and trained constantly, not just as a hobby. We were still giggling together, my hand loosely in his, when Cal burst in.
Lakkan rose gracefully, and made a respectful bow. “Lord Mage, I just leaving. Lady Mage Kyra been most instructive, I understanding it all much better now.”
Cal glowered at him, and wordlessly stood aside for him to leave. When he turned to me, his eyes were dark. “Well, you have had a good sun, haven’t you? Killed the Kellona’s grandchild and made her mage look stupid this morning, and made a stunning conquest of a guard this afternoon. What will you do for an encore, I wonder?”
He swirled out of the room, leaving me fighting back tears. It was a long time since he’d been so rude to me. He made me feel small, like my mother used to when I was a child and did something wrong: “I’m disappointed in you, Kyra,” she’d say. I wanted to curl up and disappear.
~~~~~
We crawled into Ardamurkan in a long line of farmers’ wagons, the smell of strawberries making my mouth water. The coolness of late spring had transformed overnight into the muggy heat of summer. The air itself was clammy, clinging like a damp scarf, and even Cal had left off his coat. He’d said not a word to me since the encounter with Lakkan, and even the servants and guards had noticed. Was he jealous? Lakkan and I shared a connection, just as Drei and I did, and I suppose it was bound to cause some friction. It was just as well that Lakkan had been left behind for the moment to tidy up his affairs. We would collect him on our way back to Kingswell.
We were to stay at the Kellon’s hall, and now that the moment had come, I was terrified. I, who had never wanted a baby, had to display my swelling stomach before my poor sister, whose chance of a child I had ruined. But there was a glimmer of hope. Perhaps my magic, unusual as it was, could correct the damage I’d done.
As the carriage lurched to a halt in the hall’s dusty courtyard, a figure raced out from the entrance, dwarfed by the high stone arch, and flew down the steps, skirts flying.
“Kyra! Kyra!” And before I was properly on the ground, Deyria hurled herself at me in a whirlwind of tears and shrieks of joy. “You came! Oh, Kyra, it’s wonderful to see you!” Then, suddenly pulling away, “Oh, but look at you! A mage! And...” A glance at my belly, and a giggle. “You look so well! Come in, come in.”
She dragged me up the steps, where the Kellon and a huge entourage waited to greet us, heads swivelling to get a view of me. I had left as a scribe of no account, the drusse of the Bai-Kellonor, but otherwise unworthy of notice. I returned as a mage, a person of importance to the realm, but also as a possible saviour. I was the person who might give the Kellon what he’d wanted for so long. Their scrutiny made me uncomfortable, but luckily I wasn’t the only person of interest. Many turned to watch the three brothers, Bellastria’s suitors, as they dismounted and ascended the steps in a line, smiling agreeably.
We ambled in a gaggle to the Kellon’s receiving hall, where he made a pretty speech welcoming Cal and me, the Kingswell law scribes, and also the three suitors. Cal responded formally – he knew all the right words to say – and one of the brothers spoke, a rather florid address praising the Kellon, his hall, his town and even the weather. Bellastria wasn’t there, but probably she wanted to meet her potential husbands more privately.
Then, to general surprise, the Kellon spoke again, looking directly at me.
“You all know why Lady Mage Kyra is here,” he began as the room fell silent. “More than most, I wish her success in the endeavour which brings her back to Ardamurkan, because it means so much to my beloved drusse, Deyria.” He tucked her arm into his, smiling tenderly at her, while she blushed and hung her head. “My situation is – awkward, and has been for many years. I have a fine Kellonor in my daughter Bellastria, but I have lost Axandrei, my Bai-Kellonor, to the greater charms of Kingswell, and my options for heirs are restricted in law, by my first marriage. I have asked Kingswell for the advice of the Drashon’s own law scribes, to help me disentangle the mess. However, I wish you all to know...” His voice thickened. Deyria glanced worriedly up at him, but he gave her a tremulous smile, and continued in a stronger voice. “I have decided that, regardless of the outcome of Lady Mage Kyra’s efforts, and regardless of the law scribes’ advice, I will delay no longer. I intend to marry my drusse as soon as the contract can be drawn up.”
The room erupted in uproar. There was a scattering of applause. Deyria burst into tears. Several people I didn’t know embraced Deyria and then each other. The Kellon looked down at me with a twinkling smile. “So you need not fear my displeasure, Kyra,” he said in low tones. “Whatever happens, I will be content.”
I didn’t really believe him. These great people, they often said such things – oh, don’t worry, it doesn’t matter, do your best – but when you failed, they were still angry. Still, it was nice of him to try to reassure me.
The gathering began to split into smaller groups – the three brothers were led away by servants to their quarters, the Kellon’s law scribes claimed their Kingswell counterparts, servants and hangers on drifted away, leaving just a small group around the Kellon.
“Will you look at Ria now, Kyra?” he said.
“She will be tired after the journey,” Deyria said. “All that swaying about in the carriage – so exhausting! And in her condition...”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. It was what I’d come for, after all.
The Kellon had his own room for healing, separate from the more commonly used one, a large, plush room with a raised long chair set in the middle, deep carpets, many hangings on the walls and a few tables and shelves around the perimeter. We were accompanied by two mages that I remembered – Meristorna, the elderly woman who’d told me that mages couldn’t really tell if someone was lying, and her long-standing partner, Yandroz. There was also a servant to help Deyria undress, and the Kellon’s personal guard, but the other guards and servants waited in an ante-room. Deyria disappeared behind a screen to change into a bed-robe so her stomach could be touched without undressing completely. I didn’t need that, but the other mages would, and Cal kept up the pretence of needing to touch the affected part directly too, although he could hold the hand as I did if he wanted.
Deyria climbed onto the long chair, which was high enough for me to stand beside her. Cal examined her first, in silence, then I took her hand and closed my eyes, concentrating, the sounds in the room receding.
Orange. A colour I’d never seen inside before. The whole of her womb was a deep orange, and it shimmered and sparkled like a starry night. That was the magic, I supposed. When I’d looked inside Drei, or more recently Lakkan, their magic twinkled just like that, and mine did too, when I was aware of it. If I focused on myself – yes, there it was, the same shimmering, but a golden yellow. The orange was set, somehow, still alive but held in place. Spelled. Tentatively, I allowed a little of my magical energy to trickle through towards the orange area. It fizzed momentarily with the extra energy, then went back to its original state. This was going to take some thinking about.
I released Deyria’s hand. At once there was a cacophony of voices as I came back into myself. The sudden burst of noise was deafening, and I winced.
“Quiet! I can’t think!”
There was a stunned silence. I didn’t dare look at their faces.
It was Deyria who s
oftened the moment. “So sorry, Kyra. We’re distracting you with our chatter.”
“Would you like us to leave you alone with Ria?” the Kellon said gently. “Whatever works best for you.”
“No, it’s fine. Sorry. I just...” How to describe being inside someone like that, floating, washed by magic, and then jerking back to reality? I didn’t have the words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean...”
“It’s quite all right, dear,” Deyria said. “Can you make out the problem?”
“Oh yes. I need to think how best to deal with it.”
One of the mages coughed. “We have already tried a release spell, and a dispersal spell...”
“Oh, that won’t work,” I said confidently. “The womb is spelled – protected by magic. Spells will just roll off it, like they do off me.”
“You know this?” Meristorna said, disbelieving. They were such doubters, the mages. They must have read of wild mages before, why did they take so much convincing?
“Yes. The whole womb is a solid lump of magic.”
“But it’s your magic, Kyra.” Cal’s quiet voice behind me. “You put it there, you can take it away again.”
“Oh. Of course.” I remembered the spellpages we’d wiped by withdrawing the magic from them.
I took Deyria’s hand again and closed my eyes, letting myself be drawn in to that strange state of awareness, disconnected from the world, joined only to my sister at some instinctual level. There was the orange mass again. This time I called on it, drawing it towards me. A moment of resistance, then, as softly as morning mist, the shimmering magic drifted towards me, a glistening cloud of pure gold. My fingers tingled as it passed into me. What was left behind was bright red, the colour of a healthy womb.
“There.” I released Deyria’s hand. I meant to smile at her, but laughter bubbled up inside me and I giggled instead. I was fizzing with energy, just like after renewal.
“Is it – fixed?” she said, her mouth round with surprise.
“Yes.” I giggled again. “Would you like to check?” I said to the mages.
They both examined her, exclaiming in amazement, and then Cal tried as well. “Well done,” was all he said.
Deyria slid off the long chair, the other servants were called in and there was a great deal of hugging and kissing. I came in for my share, too, but every so often I caught a glimpse of Cal, motionless in his corner, watching me gravely.
The Kellon drew me aside. “Inadequate as words are, you have my eternal gratitude, Kyra.” Before I could make the usual polite disclaimers, he shook his head, and then said, in a low voice, “I have another matter to discuss with you. In private, if you would be so good.”
“Of course.”
We turned for the door, but Cal, frozen in place a moment before, was suddenly beside us. “I have to go with Kyra,” he blurted.
“I have a private matter to discuss with her.”
“Personal or magical? Because if it has anything to do with her magic, I have to be there too. By order of the Mages’ Forum and the Drashon. Kyra is not allowed to practise or discuss magic without my supervision.” I wondered if that was why he was so cross with me for talking to Lakkan.
“Oh. Then you had better come too, Lord Mage.”
He led us to his own study, a surprisingly small room, cosily furnished more for comfort than work, a well-worn desk pushed against one wall to leave more space for a ring of soft chairs around the hearth, which had a life-sized portrait of Deyria in all her finery above it. The Kellon caught my smile as I noticed it.
“She is beautiful, is she not? And a lovely person, too. She has made me very happy, Kyra, and if your work this sun gives her the child she longs for, our lives will be perfect.”
I doubted that, but still, it was a nice sentiment.
He opened a window and a breeze wandered in, although it was too warm and humid for comfort. The Kellon’s own guard stood impassive by the door, and the three of us sat around the empty hearth, the Kellon with one leg neatly crossed over the other, Cal sprawling with legs outstretched and arms folded against his chest, and me perched on the edge of my seat. I had no idea what to expect, and I hate being in the dark. At the healing I’d been in control, but now I was sweating, and clammy with nerves. The extra energy I’d got from Deyria didn’t help, either, making me wriggle and fidget.
The Kellon didn’t waste time. “I hear from Kingswell that you have the ability to determine absolutely whether someone is telling the truth. Is that so?” Whatever I’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. I could only nod. “Good. I have someone here – but this is absolutely confidential, you understand? However, I do need to know, once and for all. It will change nothing, but still...”
He was half talking to himself. Cal cut him off. “You may depend on our discretion, Gracious Lord.”
“Thank you.” A quick glance at me. “How does it work? Do you need to have physical contact?”
“No. The lie is visible. I can see it from across the room. With the Drashon, I lifted a token if I detected a lie – like this.” I picked up a paperweight and raised it to shoulder height.
“So you could stand behind her. Excellent.”
He went to the door and issued some instructions to one of the servants, then he quickly arranged us around the room. I sat in a chair behind the door holding my paperweight, Cal stood beside the window, and the Kellon sat behind his desk.
It was not long before ‘she’ was brought in, a young woman a few years older than me, I would guess, smartly dressed with more flounces than taste. She smirked as she came in, bowing excessively to the Kellon. Her smile dropped a little when she saw Cal, but she bowed to him, nevertheless. She took the seat on the other side of the desk, opposite the Kellon. I don’t think she saw me at all.
“Now, Tralia, my dear, I do hope you are enjoying your little visit here, and have been shown every comfort?”
“Oh yes, I’m having a lovely time. I’m so glad to be here. Maybe my sister can come with me next time?”
“Perhaps,” he said affably. “Tralia, I want to ask you about your son...”
“Naturally you do, Lethon. He’s growing well, such a sturdy boy, very bright and he loves playing with his wooden sword. He’ll be adult in two years, ready for town life.”
I realised then who she must be – one of the three gathering drusse, all from the same village, the only ones to produce a child for the Kellon. I knew exactly what he wanted to find out. This wasn’t good. If they were not his, then he was bound to realise that, whatever I had done for Deyria, there weren’t likely to be any children from their marriage.
“Yes. About your son. I have heard rumours, Tralia, unpleasant rumours. It has been said that I was misled in you, that you were already with child when you became my drusse. How say you?”
She flushed scarlet. “I say you shouldn’t take no notice of gossip, Lord. It’s beneath you to listen to such spiteful and nasty words.”
“That gossip also says that you married a certain young man not long after you were my drusse, and that he looks on the boy as quite his own.”
“He’s a generous man, my husband. He never minded...”
“Tralia, I want you to answer me plainly. Is that child mine?”
She sobbed then, pulling out a hand cloth and dabbing at her eyes. I couldn’t see her face, and Cal was impassive, but I wasn’t confident of her sincerity.
“Yes or no, Tralia. Is he mine?”
“Of course he is!” she said indignantly, but the vivid blue flare gave her away. I raised the paperweight.
The Kellon sighed. “You lie, child. No, do not attempt to deny it. And your sister? And the other – your cousin, was it? Did they deceive me, too?”
She nodded, gulping, and this time I thought the sobs were real. The Kellon was very kind to her, considering, patting her hand gently and reassuring her that all three of them would be able to live just as they always had, that he was legally obliged by the terms of their drusse contr
acts to support them until the children were adult at thirteen. “But you will get not a piece more than the contract decrees,” he said. “Nor will those children ever be considered as my heirs.”
She dried her tears swiftly when she heard that. Presumably she’d been concerned about losing her house and quarterly allowance, and was now reassured. The Kellon bundled her out of the room as soon as was decent.
“Thank you for that, Kyra. I have suspected for some time, but having confirmation makes things simpler. There was a time when I thought... but that was before I knew my lovely Ria. Now she will have her babies and I need not think about those three ever again.”
If I was ever to mention the possibility that he might not be able to father children, this was the moment. “Gracious Lord...”
He waved me to continue. How to express this delicately? I’d never been good with words. Best just to come out with it. “Have you ever considered, Lord, that it might be wise to review your own health, too?”
The Fire Mages Page 34