The Summoned Mage (Convergence Book 1)

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The Summoned Mage (Convergence Book 1) Page 23

by Melissa McShane


  I told Cederic about what I learned last night, and he was furious, not that anyone but me could tell. When he calmed down, he said, “I think you are correct that Aselfos is planning some kind of power play. What Denril has to do with it…I dislike guessing, but it sounds as if he intends to turn his magical abilities to Aselfos’s benefit, though I cannot imagine what kind of interference they think I might represent. From what you overheard, Aselfos intends to take the God-Empress’s place, and it would legitimize him if the chief priest-mage asserted that his claim is more valid than hers.”

  “So what should we do?” I said.

  “Nothing,” Cederic said. “We know too little to do anything but meddle, and I don’t know how that might upset the balance of power. The upcoming disaster is far more important than anything Aselfos might have in mind, though what you overheard suggests their timing might be related to it. And if he does intend to eliminate the mages along with the God-Empress, I think he will find we are not so easy to kill. Now, is there any chance I can persuade you to leave this alone?”

  “No,” I said. “But I promise to be more careful. Does that help?”

  “Not as much as you hope,” he said, but he was smiling, and I think he’s growing accustomed to the fact that this is what I am.

  Terrael will finish the translation soon, and then Cederic will have to deal with Vorantor somehow. I don’t know what part I might play in his strategy. I hope there’s some way I can help.

  30 Lennitay

  I feel like such a fool. “I hope there’s some way I can help.” How pathetic.

  I’ve made a nest for myself in these furs, and I’ve cried all the tears that are in me, and now I’m going to write all of this down, though I don’t know what the point is. Maybe it’s so I can look back later and remind myself not to be a fool again. I don’t even care if the God-Empress learns that someone’s been in her treasure rooms. Not that she’d know it was me. Aselfos can’t be that good, or he’d have caught me already.

  We found out what was wrong with Terrael. And the secret of the Codex Tiurindi. But I’m going to write it all down as it happened, leaving nothing out, and these are the sort of conversations I wish I could forget. What Terrael said—I know I’m going to make mistakes, and there are gaps, and I’ve made it seem my memory is perfect and I know that’s not honest. But right now I don’t give a damn about honest because when everything is falling apart, fiction is more comforting than fact. But I’m doing my best.

  I spent the morning practicing pouvrin until I had a bit of a headache, then I took over a scrap of wall and doodled, nothing real, just experimenting to see if I could reproduce the shapes of pouvrin. It wasn’t successful, but it gave me some ideas for other things I might try. I have no idea what the point would be, now, and I can’t believe how hopeful I was at the time. I’m such a fool.

  All the mages were there except Audryn and Terrael, and I think everyone was doing variations on what I was doing—sketching kathana plans, or practicing th’an. Cederic and Vorantor were at the circle, talking quietly about something on the board Cederic held. They looked so friendly. I guess that shows how impossible it is to tell anything just by looking.

  I wish—remembering them standing together, I wish I could have warned Cederic somehow…but what would I say? I’ve already shown what a failure I am at saying the right thing—damn it, now I’m crying again. Enough. This is me writing it down, no more self-pity.

  So. Audryn and Terrael finally arrived. Terrael still looked awful, but now Audryn did too. I started to approach them, but Terrael said something to Audryn, who shook her head and clutched at his sleeve to make him stop. He pulled away from her and hurried straight to where Cederic and Vorantor were, and said something to Cederic in a low voice.

  Vorantor said, “I see no reason why you can’t tell all of us what you’ve learned, Master Peressten. Unless you think no one but the Kilios deserves to know.”

  Terrael looked devastated. Cederic said, “Go ahead, Master Peressten, Sai Vorantor is correct.”

  Audryn seemed ready to cry, and I went quickly to her, but when I asked what was wrong, she shook her head again and covered her mouth with her sleeve. Terrael’s shoulders slumped, and he took the Codex out of his trouser pocket and opened it.

  “I’ve translated enough to know it has the information we—the information about the coming disaster,” he said, loudly enough that everyone could hear him. “It has most of the kathana the mages used when they created the first disaster. We can use it to…to…” He stopped, swallowed, and turned back a few pages.

  “Veris wasn’t a mage,” he said. “She was responsible for chronicling the acts of the mages, back then, which means the Codex isn’t as useful as a record by an actual mage would be in terms of giving us a complete kathana we could use. But because she’s an outsider, she sees their magic—what existed before the disaster—the way we might, and in that sense the book is more useful—”

  “Please skip to the important part, Master Peressten,” Vorantor said in that indulgent way he has when he’s talking to the Darssan mages, like they’re clever children, though some of them are older than he is.

  “This is important!” Terrael shouted, startling everyone; he looks so harmless, so innocent, and it breaks my heart to think of how much all this hurt him. “Veris, and then Barklan, didn’t understand much of what they wrote about magic. What they describe was something of a combination of our magic and Sesskia’s—th’an expressed not through writing, but through the power of will. That’s a part I don’t understand yet.

  “But the experiment that went wrong was intended to make magic more accessible, make it easier to learn and to use. They wanted to remove some of the…the inherent requirements of the magic. Barklan writes about it as if the magic were alive and could make demands, and that may or may not be true, but it’s what those mages were counting on.”

  “So they tried to remove the magic, and separated their world instead,” Cederic said.

  “Maybe,” said Terrael. “There wasn’t anyone left to record what actually happened, and the Codex was destroyed in the disaster, so the last record is simply a note that they were ready to try the kathana, though they call it something else. It’s the…the earlier records, the experiments, that tell what must have gone wrong.”

  He turned more pages. “They practiced—I don’t know how they isolated magic, but they did, and they practiced removing the parts they didn’t want. And it worked, for short periods of time. They would…they would separate the magic into identical pieces, exactly the same except that one had the magic they wanted and the other didn’t. Just like how we summoned the Codex. But they could only keep them separated for seconds before they drew back together. Irresistible attraction. Because the magic calls to itself.”

  “I fail to see the point, Master Peressten,” Vorantor said, exactly as if Terrael hadn’t snapped at him before.

  “I’m coming to it,” Terrael said, though he sounded as if the words were being dragged out of him. “So with the final kathana, the one that caused the disaster, the plan was to suppress the magic long enough to take out what they wanted and recreate it in their image. Because if there was no magic, the pieces stayed separated. And if there was magic, nothing…nothing could keep the pieces from recombining.”

  By this time he was talking directly to Cederic, as if no one else were in the room, and I could tell Cederic was as mystified as the rest of us, but he nodded encouragement. That probably made Terrael feel worse.

  “The rest is somewhat conjecture, but I swear to you, Sai Aleynten, I’ve gone over this a hundred times and I know it’s true,” Terrael said. “The kathana was too powerful, and it tore the world in half, two almost identical pieces with key differences and all the magic gone, or at least spread so thin it couldn’t be used for anything. And they stayed apart for hundreds of years while the magic gathered itself and people learned to use it again, until there was enough of it to reverse the pr
ocess.

  “Every th’an, every kathana, even Sesskia’s pouvrin bring the worlds closer together. And there’s no way to stop it. They aren’t meant to be apart. Sai Aleynten, I’m sorry, but there’s no way to keep them apart. It’s impossible.”

  Cederic was completely motionless. He didn’t even blink. “I see,” he said.

  Vorantor said, “Oh, Cederic. You still held out hope, didn’t you? Are you convinced now?”

  “No way to prevent it,” Cederic said, his lips barely moving. “You were right.”

  Vorantor put his hand on Cederic’s unmoving shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, too cheerfully. “No harm done, in the long run, and there’s no shame in being wrong, is there?”

  “Of course not,” Cederic said.

  “Pity all that work was wasted,” Vorantor said. “More than two years, wasn’t it? Still, there’s time—”

  “I think I should begin…evaluating a new approach,” Cederic said. He sounded so distant that I wanted to cry for him.

  “You should do that,” Vorantor said, clapping him on the back again. “I’ll have some suggestions for you later, how does that sound?”

  “Very good,” Cederic said, and left the room, his face completely expressionless, his head held high. Vorantor’s mages were whispering to one another and I saw one of them smirk at a comment his friend made. Somebody laughed. The Darssan mages stood frozen in place. Audryn was crying. I put my arm around her shoulders and hugged her, though I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t crying myself—probably because I was so furious with Vorantor I wanted to hurt him more than I wanted to weep.

  Terrael stood in the center of the room, book held loosely in his hand, head bowed. I steered Audryn toward him, took the book from his hand, and walked over to slap it hard against Vorantor’s chest to get his attention. He reached up automatically to take it, but I whisked it out of his reach and put it into my pocket.

  “Master Peressten is exhausted from his labors,” I said, “and he’s going to rest. Master Engilles will do the same. I’m going to take them to their rooms now. That’s all right, isn’t it.” I stared him down, willing him to see my readiness to hurt him in my eyes, and he flinched and did a poor job of hiding it. He muttered something about “overwrought, time for everyone to rest” and I took Audryn and Terrael by the hands and dragged them out of the circle chamber and through the palace to the Darssan mages’ wing.

  Once there, I opened Audryn’s door and dragged them both inside with me. I’d made a decision along the way that violated one of my principles, but I was tired and heartsick and it was a principle that didn’t matter much anymore.

  “Sit,” I said, shoving them both gently at Audryn’s bed. “Audryn, Terrael is hopelessly in love with you,” I said, causing Terrael to go red and Audryn to gasp. “He goes out of his way to be near you because he doesn’t know how to tell you how he feels, because you’re older and never become clumsy or awkward or any of the things he’s sure he’s doing anytime you’re near.

  “Terrael, Audryn is completely in love with you.” It was Terrael’s turn to gasp. “And she’s afraid to tell you because you’re her superior, sort of, and she’s in awe of how brilliant you are and thinks you think she’s not smart enough for you. And I was going to let this go on until you were both brave enough to tell each other the truth, but it sounds as if the world’s ending and I think neither of you should waste any more time. And now I’m leaving.”

  I took the Codex out of my pocket and tossed it at Terrael, who caught it, his eyes still wide. Then I turned and walked out the door, and shut it before I could hear more than Terrael saying, “Audryn—”

  I ran the rest of the way up the stairs to the Sais’ wing. I can’t believe I didn’t see any of this coming. My later self is probably reading this and laughing herself sick at how stupid I was. All I wanted was to help. That’s what I thought, anyway. That helping Cederic was all that motivated me.

  I stopped at the top of the steps and waited for my breathing to slow, then I walked the rest of the way to Cederic’s room and knocked. There was no answer. I remembered a Castaviran wouldn’t expect someone to wait for an invitation, so I pushed on the door and found it locked. So I pounded on the door and shouted his name, and when that didn’t work, I unlocked the door and went in. The room was empty.

  That made me afraid, though I’m not sure why. I think there was a part of me that wondered if Cederic might not do something stupid, if losing his life’s work and being humiliated by his “old friend” might not push even him past breaking. But I couldn’t quite believe it. Mostly I worried that it was a large palace, and I didn’t know where to begin looking for him. And then I did.

  I left his room and ran all the way down the hall and up the steps to the observatory. Cederic was there, standing where Vorantor had the first night I’d seen the room, looking over the edge at what lay far below. I had another moment of fear, but pushed it aside and walked toward him. He always knows it’s me, though I don’t know how. This time he probably heard me shouting. He said, “There are stones in a strange pattern here.”

  “It’s a way into the God-Empress’s treasure tower,” I said.

  “I suppose I should expect you to know these things,” he said, not turning around. I didn’t like the sound of his voice. It was empty, and bitter, and sounded nothing like him.

  “I’m a thief,” I said, trying to make a joke, but it hung in the air between us and then fell to the ground, disregarded.

  He didn’t say anything. I swear I thought all I wanted was to help him. To show him no one who mattered thought less of him for having been wrong. I cast about for something that would adequately express that feeling, and came up with, “Terrael feels terrible for having been the one to reveal that.”

  “Master Peressten is an honest man. He would not have concealed it, even for me,” Cederic said.

  More silence. It was as if everything I wanted to say was running up against the brick wall that was Cederic’s humiliation. “What will you do now?” I said.

  “You mean, now it is clear to everyone that I am a fool, and that I have wasted two years of my time and that of Castavir’s finest minds?” he said.

  “You’re not a fool,” I said. “Don’t say that.”

  “The evidence was clear enough for Denril and the other Sais to see the truth,” Cederic said. “I let my pride in my rank convince me I could find success where they could not. That makes me a fool. An arrogant, selfish fool.”

  “Don’t say that,” I said. “You are better than they are, and you made a mistake—”

  “What do you know of it?” he shouted, turning on me so quickly I took a step back in surprise. “You, another of my many mistakes, snatched out of your world because of my carelessness! You simply cannot leave things alone, can you? I did not ask you to follow me. I did not ask for your patronizing sympathy, your cautious tiptoeing around the truth, and I cannot understand why you believe anything you have to say means anything to me!”

  I remember every word of it. His face, no longer expressionless, his voice, raging at me, I remember it all. It hurt so badly that for one confused moment I thought he’d stabbed me, and I put my hand up to my chest and felt nothing but cloth. The fury faded from Cederic’s face. “Sesskia,” he said, “I didn’t…”

  I turned and ran for the door. He shouted my name, and I heard him coming after me, but I was already leaping down the steps and plunging through the floor as into the ocean’s depths, into blackness, from one open space to another, anything to get away from him.

  I ran through long galleries where the servants flung themselves out of my way—I have no idea what they thought, I probably looked like a madwoman—and through rows of tiny, sealed-off cubicles; across the floor of the mosaic chamber, where I lost one of my shoes; then into one of the God-Empress’s kitchens, where I kicked off the other to be a mystery for one of the servants to find.

  I wasn’t thinking at all, just running, and
passing through walls, and at some point I became lightheaded from all the insubstantiality, and I stopped, and I was here in the fur room. I tore all the furs off the walls and the counters and piled them in a corner, and I flung myself down on them, and I cried as I haven’t for years.

  Because I didn’t know I loved him until he told me how worthless he thinks I am.

  I swear it’s true. How stupid does that make me? How incredibly stupid was I not to realize my longing to ease his pain had nothing to do with friendship? I realize, now, I’ve loved him for a long time. Of course I go to him for every little thing, because I feel better when I’m with him, happier and more comfortable than when I’m alone.

  I trust him more than anyone, even more than Audryn and Sovrin—I don’t know why that is, because in most ways I’m closer to them than I am to Cederic. It’s just—I think it’s because he makes such an effort to be…not truthful, exactly, but he never says anything without being certain he’s not misleading you, because truth and honesty and accuracy matter so much to him, and that goes so far beyond truth and lies it’s like a bedrock foundation I know I can always count on.

  I love it when I can make him smile or joke. I thought that was because it’s a challenge, like it was a game I was playing, but the truth is even though his smile is tiny and thin, his eyes get this amused gleam to them that warms my heart. And I love the way his lips quirk just a little bit when he’s intent on a problem. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know he does that. The thought of it makes my heart ache more because it reminds me of how confident and powerful he is, or was before that bastard Vorantor took such joy in tearing him down.

 

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