Magic Study - Study 2 s-3

by Мария Снайдер

  “As you can see,” Bain said, indicating the room’s contents, “we are trying to deduce the methods and means of this killer. A very cunning and shrewd fellow. Unfortunately, that’s all we know. Perhaps fresh eyes can spot something we missed.” Bain pointed to the map on the table.

  “She shouldn’t be here,” Leif said. “She knows nothing about this.”

  Before Irys could speak in my defense, I said, “You’re right, Leif, I haven’t dealt with this before because a horror like him would not have survived in Ixia for long.”

  “Why don’t you just run back to your precious Commander and your perfect Ixia and keep your nose out of our troubles?” Leif spat the words at me.

  I drew breath to counter, but Irys put a warning hand on my sleeve.

  “Yelena and Leif, that’s quite enough,” Irys said. “You’re wasting time. Catching this killer is imperative.”

  Chastised, I peered down at the map on the table. The Sitian lands were divided into eleven territories, one for each clan. City and town locations were marked, as well as the places where the other girls had been found. Some towns had two victims, while others had none. I failed to see a pattern.

  “The only consistency has been in the victims,” Bain said. “All are unmarried females fifteen to sixteen years old. All were missing for approximately twelve to fourteen days. All were taken during the night. Some were stolen right from the very bedrooms they shared with siblings. And no witnesses. None.”

  My initial gut feeling indicated that magic had been involved, but I didn’t want to say as much in front of four Master Magicians.

  “We have considered a rogue magician,” Irys said. “And while we have confirmed the alibis of the magicians who have graduated from our school, we are unable to question those who have one-trick powers.”

  “One-trick?” I asked.

  “There are some who have just enough magic to do one thing like light a candle, but are unable to use magic for anything else,” Irys explained. “One-tricks do not come to the Keep, but they normally use their gift in beneficial ways. Some, though, do use their ability for crime. Mostly petty. It’s possible this killer’s one-trick is to turn himself invisible, or be able to walk without making a sound. Something that gives him the upper hand when kidnapping a girl.”

  Irys’s face hardened into an expression of serious determination. A look I recognized with a queasy feeling deep in my stomach. She had worn it when she had tried to kill me in Ixia.

  “But only for the moment,” she vowed.

  “We have not ruled out a rogue magician,” Bain said. “History is full of them. And I include recent history.” He nodded to me. “Some day, you must tell me of the misdeeds of Kangom in Ixia, and how he met his end. I wish to add his folly to the history books.”

  Confused at first, it took me a moment to remember that Kangom had changed his name to Mogkan upon fleeing to Ixia.

  “Speaking of books,” Bain said to me, “I have some for you in my office.” He turned to Roze. “Are we finished here?”

  She gave a curt nod.

  The other magicians made to leave, but Zitora stayed by the table, tracing a finger over the map of Sitia.

  “Irys?” she asked. “Did you mark Tula’s location?”

  “No.” Irys picked up a quill and dipped it into a bottle of red ink. “With all the commotion, I forgot.” She placed a mark on the map and stepped back. “I’ll be back in ten days. Please send word if something happens. Yelena, keep practicing your control.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  Irys smiled then left the room. I glanced down at the map to see how far Booruby was from the Citadel. The red ink had not yet dried. Tula’s town resided on the western edge of the Avibian Plains. I had thought Captain Marrok exaggerated when he had said the plains were huge, but the map showed that the plains dominated the eastern Sitian landscape.

  When my eye caught the other red marks, I must have made a sound because Zitora clutched my arm.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “A pattern. See?” I pointed to the map. “All the marks are near the border of the Avibian Plains.”

  The others returned to the table.

  “Fresh eyes,” Bain said, nodding to himself.

  “It’s obvious, now that the map’s been updated,” Roze said. Annoyance made her voice sharp.

  “Did anyone search the plains when the girls went missing?” I asked.

  “No one goes into the plains,” Zitora said. “The Sandseed Clan doesn’t like visitors, and their strange magic can befuddle the mind. It’s best to circumvent them.”

  “Only the Zaltanas are welcomed by the Sandseeds,” Roze said. “Perhaps Yelena and Leif could visit and determine if anything is amiss.”

  “No need to rush,” Bain said. “Better to wait until Irys returns with Tula’s sister. If Tula awakes and identifies her assailant, we would have the advantage.”

  “What if another girl goes missing in the meantime?” Leif asked. His scowl had deepened, and he seemed upset either by the thought of another victim or the prospect of traveling with me again.

  “Then, welcome or no, we will send armed searchers into the plains,” Bain said.

  “But you might be too late,” I said.

  “We have some time.” Zitora pulled at one of her braids. “That was another pattern we were able to discern. He has the victims for two weeks and then waits four weeks before claiming a new one.”

  The thought of another victim filled me with dread and led to a horrible scenario. “What if he comes to the Keep to finish what he started? Tula could be in danger!”

  “Let him come.” Roze’s voice turned icy with determination. “I will take care of him.”

  “First we would have to apprehend him.” Bain tapped the table with a bony finger. “We must post guards in Tula’s room.”

  “But it’s the hot season, and we’re short-handed,” Zitora said.

  “I will tell Cahil to assign some of his men,” Roze said. “He owes me.”

  “Get them right away, Roze,” Bain said. “Not a moment to lose. Come now, Yelena, we have work to do.”

  Bain led me out of the room and down the hallway.

  “Nice observations, young lady. I see why Irys chose not to kill you.”

  “Has Irys ever chosen to kill?” I asked. Cahil’s comment that I had not been the first person Irys had rescued from Ixia weighed on my mind.

  “Unavoidable at times. Nasty choice overall, but Irys is well suited to that role. She has a unique ability to cease a heart without pain or fear. Roze has the skill, too, but she’s much too harsh. She works best with criminals and their ilk. Leif helps her with those unfortunate criminal investigations. During his schooling at the Keep, the Masters determined that would be the best use of his unusual power. Zitora, on the other hand, would die rather than harm another. I have never met a sweeter soul.”

  Bain stopped to unlock a door. He gestured for me to precede him into his office. Entering the room, I was greeted by a riot of color, a jumble of contraptions and shelves upon shelves of books.

  “And you, sir?” I asked. “What place do you hold in this group of magicians?”

  “I teach. I guide. I listen.” He stacked books into a pile. “I answer questions. I let the younger magicians go on missions. I tell stories of my eventful past.” Bain smiled. “Whether or not my companions wish to hear them. Now, we’ll start you with these few books.”

  He handed me the stack. I counted seven texts. Few? Obviously, my definition of few was different than his. At least most of the books were slim.

  “Tomorrow is market day. An extra day for study.” Bain’s voice held a touch of reverence. To him it seemed an extra day to study was similar to receiving a pouch of gold. “Read the first three chapters in each book. We’ll discuss them the day after tomorrow. Come to my tower after breakfast.”

  He bustled around a table, looking for something. He pulled a leather pouch from beneat
h an immense tome. “Yours from Irys.”

  The pouch jingled as I opened it. Irys had exchanged my Ixian coins for Sitian.

  “How do I find the market?” I asked.

  Bain rummaged around his desk until he found a sheet of paper. It was a map of the Citadel.

  “Use this.” Bain pointed to the market square located near the center of the Citadel.

  “May I keep this?”

  “Yours. Now, go. Read.” With the indulgence of a father sending his child off to play, he shooed me out the door.

  I read the book titles as I made my way back to my rooms. The Source of Magic; Magical Mutations; The History of Sitian Magic; Master Level Magicians Throughout the Ages; Misuses of the Power Source; The Magician’s Ethical Code, and Windri Bak Greentree: A Biography.

  I had to admit the titles seemed fascinating, so I started my reading assignments as soon as I reached my rooms. The afternoon flew by, and only the incessant growling of my stomach made me stop to find some food.

  After dinner, I visited the stables. Topaz and Kiki’s heads appeared over their stall doors the moment I arrived.

  Apples? Both horses looked hopeful.

  Have I ever come without? I asked.

  No. Lavender Lady nice, Topaz said.

  I fed Topaz and Kiki their apples. After wiping apple juice and horse slobber from my hands, I realized Cahil was late. Deciding not to wait for him, I took Kiki’s bridle and riding saddle from the tack room.

  Practice? Kiki sounded as bored as I by the repetitive lessons.

  How about a walk? I asked.

  Fast?

  No. Slow and steady so I don’t fall off.

  I bridled and saddled Kiki without incident, surprising myself with how much I had learned.

  Before I could mount, Cahil arrived, his face red, and his beard matted with sweat. He looked as though he had run to the stables. I wondered how far he had run, which led me to wonder where he lived in the Keep, which led me, ultimately, to wonder about his childhood. What had it been like to grow up in the Magician’s Keep without any family?

  Cahil, oblivious to my curiosity, inspected every inch of Kiki’s tack. Probably searching for a mistake. I smiled in satisfaction when all he found was a crooked stirrup.

  “All right then, since she’s saddled, why don’t you try mounting?” Cahil said, reminding me to always mount on the horse’s left side.

  I placed my left foot in the stirrup and grabbed the saddle. When he moved to give me a boost up, I stopped him with a look. Kiki stood at sixteen hands, tall for a horse, but I wanted to mount her without help. Pushing off with my right foot, I launched myself up and swung my leg over the saddle.

  Once settled, I looked down at Cahil from what now felt like an uncomfortable height. From this vantage point, the ground at his feet seemed to transform from plush grass to hard and unyielding earth.

  Cahil lectured about the reins and the proper way to hold them, and how to sit in the saddle. “If you think you’re going to fall, grab her mane. Not the saddle.”

  “Why not?”

  “You could pinch a finger. Don’t worry. You won’t hurt the horse.”

  Cahil continued to lecture about the correct way to steer the horse and the best way to give stop and go commands. He also repeated his advice to grab Kiki’s mane if I felt myself falling at least a half dozen more times. Eventually, I tuned him out, gazing around the pasture from my new perspective. I admired the way the sun reflected off a stallion’s coat near the far fence, until a change in Cahil’s tone caused Kiki’s ears to cock forward.

  “…listening to me?” Cahil demanded.

  “What?”

  “Yelena, this is very important. If you don’t know how to—”

  “Cahil,” I interrupted. “I don’t need commands. All I have to do is ask Kiki.”

  He stared at me as if I had spoken another language.

  “Watch.” I held the reins in front of me as Cahil had instructed. Kiki’s left ear cocked back, the other pointed forward. She turned her head slightly to the left so she could see me fully.

  Walk around the pasture? I asked her. Near the fence.

  Kiki started to move. Her steps rocked me from side to side. I let her find the path as I enjoyed the view.

  As we circled the pasture, I heard Cahil yell, “Heels down! Straighten up!”

  Eventually, we moved out of his sight.

  Fast? Kiki asked.

  Not yet.

  A glint of sunlight and a blur of motion from outside the fence caught my eye. Kiki shied, turning sharply to the right. I flew left.

  Bad smell. Bad thing.

  Instinctively, I grabbed her mane, stopping my fall. My right leg stretched across the saddle as I hung from Kiki’s side, clutching her coarse brown hair.

  Kiki’s muscles bunched and she danced to the side. I caught a glimpse of what had startled her. Stop. A man.

  She held still, but her legs trembled in terror. Bad man. Shiny thing.

  I yanked myself upright in the saddle. Bad man. Run.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kiki took off.

  I held on to her mane, and tried to stay in the saddle. After a few strides, I looked behind just in time to see Goel’s sword flash in the sunlight.

  When Cahil saw us racing across the pasture, he raised his arms and shouted. “Whoa! Whoa!”

  Kiki galloped straight for him, her mind so focused on survival that I had to wait for Goel’s scent to disappear before she would respond to my calming thoughts.

  Man gone. It’s okay, I said to her. I patted her on the neck and whispered the same thing into her ear. She settled and halted mere inches from Cahil.

  “At least you stayed on the horse.” He grabbed Kiki’s reins. “What happened?”

  I jumped down from the saddle and examined Cahil. He didn’t look surprised. In fact, he seemed mildly amused.

  “What do you think happened?” I countered.

  “Kiki spooked at something. I told you horses are skittish, but you had to go off before you were ready.”

  Something in Cahil’s eyes made me suspicious. “Did you send Goel to ambush me?” I demanded.

  “Goel?” Cahil seemed taken aback. “No, I—”

  “You set that up. You wanted Kiki to panic.”

  Cahil frowned. “I wanted you to learn. Horses are prey animals and will react to the slightest noise, scent or movement long before any logic can kick in. And if you’d fallen, you would know it’s not terrible. Then you wouldn’t be afraid to fall or bail off a horse when you need to.”

  “How nice for you that you’ve already forgotten I’ve fallen off a horse. Actually, shoved off a horse. Your horse to be exact. It’s a memory I wish I could forget so easily.”

  Cahil had the decency to look contrite.

  “So sending Goel was a lesson?” I asked. “I don’t believe it, Cahil. He was armed.”

  Fury flashed across Cahil’s face. “I asked Erant to help me. Goel is supposed to be guarding Tula. I’ll deal with him.”

  “Don’t bother. I can take care of Goel. At least he had the decency to warn me of his plans. Unlike others.” I glared at Cahil, snatched the reins from his hands and strode back to the stable with Kiki. It had been a mistake to go to my lesson unarmed. I had foolishly assumed Goel wouldn’t try to attack me while I was with Cahil. Lesson learned. Cahil should be proud, even if it wasn’t the lesson he intended.

  The next morning, I set out to find the market. I kept a wary eye on the people in the streets of the Citadel. All seemed headed toward the center square. Amazed by the number of people crowding around the market stands, I hesitated. I didn’t want to push my way through them, yet I needed to shop.

  I spotted a few of the Keep’s workers, and had decided to ask one of them for assistance when I felt a tug on my sleeve. Spinning around, I reached for my bow on my backpack. The small boy flinched. I recognized him as the beggar I had given my Sitian coins to on my first day in the Citadel.
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  “Sorry. You startled me,” I said.

  He relaxed. “Lovely Lady, can you spare a copper?”

  Remembering what Irys had said about the beggars, I thought of an idea. “How about you help me and I’ll help you?”

  Wariness filled his eyes. In that instant he seemed to grow ten years older. My heart broke, and I wanted to empty my purse into his hands. Instead, I said, “I’m new here. I’m looking to buy paper and ink. Do you know a good merchant?”

  He seemed to catch on. “Maribella’s has the finest stationery,” he said, his eyes alight. “I’ll show you.”

  “Wait. What’s your name?”

  He hesitated, and then lowered his eyes to the ground. “Fisk,” he mumbled.

  I dropped to one knee. Looking him in the eyes, I offered my hand. “Greetings, Fisk. I’m Yelena.”

  He grasped my hand with both of his, his mouth agape with astonishment. I guessed he was close to nine years old. Fisk recovered with a shake of his head. He then led me to a young girl’s table at the edge of the square. I purchased writing paper, a stylus and some black ink, then gave Fisk a Sitian copper for his help. As the morning wore on, Fisk guided me to other stands for more supplies and soon other children were “hired” to help carry my packages.

  When I finished shopping, I surveyed my entourage. Six grubby children smiled at me despite the heat and searing sun. I suspected that one boy was Fisk’s younger brother; they had the same light brown eyes. The other two boys may have been his cousins. Greasy strands of hair hid most of the two girls’ faces so it was impossible to tell if they were related to Fisk.

  I realized then that I was reluctant to return to the Keep.

  Sensing my mood, Fisk asked, “Lovely Yelena, would you like a tour of the Citadel?”

  I nodded. The midday heat had emptied the market, but as I followed the children through the deserted streets, a feeling of unease settled over me. What if they were leading me into a trap? My hand sought the handle of my switchblade. Concentrating, I pulled a thread of power and projected my awareness.

  My mind touched life all around me. Most of the Citadel’s citizens resided inside, their thoughts focused on finding a cool spot or a quiet activity while they waited for the sun to set. No threats. No ambushes.