“Yes.”
“Are they getting stronger?”
“Yes,” he said, opening his eyes again. “The early ones were shorter, less . . . forceful. As though the early dreams were first attempts, practice, and now that she has figured out how to send them more effectively . . .”
Meg fought back a shudder. “You think she might be getting skilled enough to turn her suggestions into compulsions.”
He nodded.
“Do you think she might be able to send the dreams to other people as well?” Her dreams weren’t like that, really. Not like he had described. But maybe Sen Eva had other goals for Meg.
“I don’t know,” he said, glancing at her curiously. “Have you —?”
Meg cursed inwardly, a sudden fierce river of doubt rising within her. Doubt and an urgent sense of alarm. Stupid, stupid girl! She should not be giving him any information. What if all of this was some sort of ruse to get her to admit she was having nightmares herself? What if Sen Eva was using him to find out whether her attacks on Meg’s sleep were working? This could all be part of some larger scheme — even his presence here, his apparent rejection of his mother and her plans — everything could be a lie. Everything. Anything. She had to be more careful. Why was it so hard to remember not to trust him? He’d fooled her with lies before. Would she never, never learn?
Meg stepped back and turned to signal the guards, who were watching attentively. As they began jogging toward her, she looked back at Wilem.
“I will increase your guard. If anything . . . changes, if the dreams get stronger, if you find yourself acting on anything . . .”
“I will tell you at once, Princess. Thank you.” He seemed genuinely relieved. Grateful.
Meg turned away. She didn’t want to look at him anymore. The guards arrived, and she gave them instructions to increase the security detail assigned to Wilem both day and night. Especially night. They acknowledged this without question, and Meg left them to it. She would have to go find her parents and let them know what Wilem had told her. Once Calen and Serek returned, they could ask Serek to investigate; surely there was some way he would be able to tell if magic were being used against Wilem in that way. Or against Meg.
She thought she would leave out the part about her own dreams when she spoke with her parents, however. Just for now, just until she could find out more about what they meant, or didn’t mean. Her parents were concerned enough about her right now. There was enough they were still trying to get used to. This new issue, the dreams — the dreams could wait.
She felt Jakl tugging at her and suffered a twinge of guilt. He would have to wait, too. I’m sorry, she thought at him. Just a little longer. I have to take care of this. I’ll be there as soon as I can. He didn’t like that. She could feel him pulling her, wanting her to come now, but she had no choice. With an effort, she made the barrier a little stronger, pushing him more firmly away. Once again, it seemed a lot harder than it should have been.
Calen, she thought desperately, quickening her steps as she approached the castle doors. Please come back soon.
THE COUNCIL HAD DECIDED TO COMBINE the meeting with the evening meal. Calen found himself juggling a pair of plates piled high with dinner while trying to find Serek and the seat he hoped his master had remembered to save for him. Long, cloth-draped counters covered with food lined one side of the meeting chamber, and pitchers of water and wine had been set out among the tables where people were sitting. This was a different room from the one in which the ceremony had been held. While that space had been designed so that one person or a small group could present information to an audience, this one was set up as a series of large concentric circles — the intention being, Calen supposed, that everyone would mostly be able to see one another, and they could have a discussion as a group.
The mages were all talking among themselves, still clearly agitated about the afternoon’s events. Calen thought he’d heard his own name mentioned more than once. It made sense, he supposed — the attack had happened during his marking ceremony. But it still made him uncomfortable. And it still seemed that certain mages’ eyes kept lingering on him as he passed by.
He spotted Serek at last, seated in the second circle from the center. Calen made his way down the narrow aisle, edged behind the chairs of several other mages — none of whom seemed the least bit inclined to slide their chairs in to make his progress any easier — and finally reached the spot where Serek sat talking with the mage next to him. The seat on the other side of Serek was empty, Calen saw with relief. His arms were getting tired from holding up the heavy plates. He set Serek’s plate down before him and then his own beside it. Then he slipped into the seat and tried to listen to Serek’s conversation without seeming to.
“If you’d have asked me yesterday, I would have sworn there was no way anyone could penetrate the Magistratum’s defenses like that,” Serek’s companion was saying. He seemed to be a fair bit older than Serek, but his face was not as heavily marked. His beard was entirely gray, and what little hair there was on top of his head was white. “Can’t imagine how they managed it,” the man went on, shaking his head. “I keep turning it over in my mind, listening to the theories being thrown around — all nonsense. No one really has any idea at all.”
“Something will come out in the meeting,” Serek said. “No one can cast something that large without leaving some trace behind. Not in the middle of a room full of mages.”
“Which begs the question, of course: why there and then? You don’t suppose —?” His eyes flicked up, and he suddenly noticed Calen sitting there. “Oh, ah . . . your apprentice has joined us, I see.”
Serek turned to take in Calen and the plates of food. “Ah, thank you, Calen. Mage Anders of Everton, may I present Apprentice Calen of Trelian. Calen, Mage Anders is an old friend of mine.”
“Old, indeed,” Anders said, giving Calen a little nod of greeting. He seemed friendly enough, but he gave Calen one of those overly long looks that had been making him antsy all afternoon. “Congratulations on your marking, young Calen. A mage’s first true mark is not an experience he ever forgets. Of course, yours may be more memorable than most, I suspect. Quite a show we had this afternoon, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” Calen replied respectfully. He was still stuck on the idea that Serek had called this man his friend. He hadn’t thought Serek had any friends.
Anders opened his mouth to say something else, but just then the sound of a bell rang out. The council masters were sitting in the center circle, a quarter of the way around the room from where Calen and Serek were. Mage Renaldiere was holding a silver bell aloft in one hand. The other council members were seated along the same row to either side of Galida and Renaldiere. Conversations around the room quickly died down, and all the mages turned their attention to the center.
“I don’t have to emphasize how serious the events of this afternoon were,” Mage Galida began. “The members of the council have spent some time reinforcing our defenses and constructing several new layers of wards and alarms, but since we thought we were already adequately protected before . . . well, obviously we want to figure out what exactly happened, and how, and who was responsible. As we were unable earlier to determine anything about the source of the spell, we are here to see what further information we might be able to pull together and to determine appropriate action.” She turned to look at Serek. “Mage Serek? I believe you have something to report.”
Suddenly all the eyes in the room were on them. Calen swallowed nervously. He’d known he would have to tell about the colors; he just hadn’t thought it would be the very first item on the agenda. He wasn’t ready to have everyone looking at him again already.
Serek nodded. “Thank you, Council Master.” He looked around and addressed his words to the surrounding tables: “As many of you have heard by now, my apprentice has a unique gift. He is able to see colors when magic is cast nearby, and is beginning to be able to identify types of magic by the colors a
ssociated with the casting. I know we meant to have a separate discussion about his ability, but in light of today’s events, I thought it might be helpful to hear his interpretation of what happened in the assembly hall.”
He looked expectantly at Calen. A murmuring had broken out among the mages, which only made it harder for Calen to will himself to speak. Did they have to stare and mutter like that? He was intensely aware of Serek’s gaze, which seemed to be growing ever so slightly impatient.
Stop being such a baby, he told himself, and strangely it sounded like Meg’s voice in his head. She would have no problem speaking in front of a crowd, of course. But more important, she would do whatever needed to be done without whining about it. He had a responsibility to help here if he could. He opened his mouth. “Well —”
“With all due respect,” another mage broke in, “we as yet have no documented proof of the apprentice’s alleged ability to see these colors. How do we know that what he saw was anything other than his own imagination?”
“It was not —” Calen began, but Serek laid a warning hand on his arm.
“Why don’t we hear what he has to say before arguing about its validity?” Galida said dryly. After a moment, the mage who had spoken nodded in acquiescence. All eyes turned back to Calen. He found it was easier to speak now that he was angry.
“I do see colors when people cast,” he said, directing his words toward the council masters. They, at least, seemed to want to hear what he had to say. “When I cast, or when other mages cast around me. It is stronger with spells I know well, but over the past few months, I’ve been able to see more, even if the spells are unfamiliar. I didn’t realize for a long time that I was the only one. I thought everyone could see the colors.”
“And what did you see today, Calen?” Renaldiere asked.
“Everything,” Calen said. “I mean, it seemed to be all different kinds of magic together. More colors than I’ve ever seen at one time before. And I could see the creatures that were attacking. I mean, before you and Mage Serek cast that spell to make them visible. They were completely made up of magic energy, a lot of black and red and purple, but also some green, and some other colors — so many that it was hard to sort anything out, especially because I don’t know anything about that kind of spell — making things, creatures, out of magic that way.”
There was a great deal of muttering at this. Calen looked at Serek nervously.
“It could be that the unusual variety of colors Calen saw reflects the fact that the spell was designed to be hard to decipher,” Serek said.
An older female mage from across the room raised her voice to be heard over the continued muttering from the other mages. She bore many marks, and her white hair was pulled back from her face with a bright, rose-colored scarf. Calen recognized her as the one Council Master Galida had been speaking with on the stage just before the mass casting. “I did sense a great, tangly confusion of magic this afternoon, friends. And”— she raised her eyebrows and glanced around significantly —“you all know I normally don’t need to stretch to tease out what’s being cast around me.”
There were nods and murmurs of agreement at this. Anders leaned over and whispered to Calen, “Lisbette is highly skilled at sensing magic. She can usually identify a spell even from the energy that lingers afterward; it’s quite extraordinary.”
Mage Lisbette went on, “That spell didn’t feel like anything I have ever sensed before. I am willing to believe that what the young apprentice says is true. Which says to me we are dealing with some kind of magic unfamiliar to the lot of us. Which is, to say the least, a matter of more than passing concern.”
More muttering, more nods, some head shakes, lots of worried faces.
A man sitting a few rows back spoke next. “We have not yet discussed the possibility that the attack is connected to the recent events relating to the woman Sen Eva and her efforts to aid in the return of Mage Krelig.”
Calen sucked in his breath. He had hoped he was just being paranoid about that.
The other mages had erupted into side conversations again at the man’s words, and Council Master Renaldiere had to ring his bell for quiet. Then he nodded and said, “We might as well begin tonight. That topic is, of course, the main reason we called this general assembly. There does not seem to be any doubt that Sen Eva’s benefactor is Mage Krelig; we are agreed on that. Mage Serek’s report suggested that Krelig’s attempt to return was thwarted by the events at Trelian, but as long as Sen Eva is still at large, we must assume that she may still be working toward that goal.”
“But how can he return?” one of the apprentices Calen had noticed earlier asked. “Isn’t that supposed to be impossible? Wasn’t he exiled to keep him away forever?”
“They should have killed him when they had the chance,” an older apprentice said. There were many mutters of support for that sentiment among the other apprentices, but also a lot of head shaking from the full mages.
“Mage Krelig was too powerful to either compel or kill,” Galida said. “He had abilities beyond most of his peers, and no hesitation about using his powers to achieve whatever he wanted. Ironically, the early founders of the Magistratum were at a distinct disadvantage, as they were bound to follow the laws they wanted to impose on all mages, whereas Mage Krelig was free to cast whatever he wished. We think the only reason the mages of his time were able to manage exile was that he had been caught unaware, not expecting that particular form of attack. That might have been his weakness — he himself would not have thought of exile, since he usually just killed anyone who got in his way.”
“As for whether he can truly return, we fear that is a real possibility,” Renaldiere said grimly. “Mage Krelig had — has — the Sight, and we believe he has had a vision showing him how to get back.”
“Part of what he requires is apparently a war,” Serek said. “That’s what Sen Eva was trying to achieve. She was trying to renew the war between Trelian and Kragnir in order to set certain elements in place for Krelig’s return.”
Calen shocked himself by speaking. “He said — when Meg — when Princess Meglynne — and I saw him, in the portal that Sen Eva opened, he said something about Queen Lysetta, the queen of Kragnir who died when she was visiting Trelian. He started the war, back then, with Kragnir, but I guess there was something else he needed, too.”
“A partner,” Anders said. “He needed someone on this side to help bring him through. He must not have been able to find one before.”
“Or he found one and it didn’t work,” another mage said.
“How is he even still alive?” another of the apprentices asked. “Wasn’t he exiled hundreds of years ago?”
“Again, we aren’t certain,” Galida said, “but we believe that time works differently wherever he was sent, and so less time has passed for him than it has for us.”
“The important thing to make clear,” Renaldiere said, “is that a war between kingdoms is not the danger we are afraid of. That would only be a means to an end for Mage Krelig, and the end would be . . . well, it would be catastrophic. We haven’t faced an enemy like this in a long time. The Magistratum has done such a good job of keeping mages in order and controlling potential threats before they cause too much damage that we are rather unprepared for a mage of Krelig’s caliber. He is very powerful, and very driven.”
“And probably very angry,” Anders said quietly from the other side of Serek.
“Not to mention crazy,” Calen muttered, mostly to himself. Krelig had certainly seemed crazy when he’d been talking to Sen Eva through the portal that time.
“And he is also . . .” Renaldiere seemed to be searching for the right words. “He was more than just a mage who resisted the formation of the Magistratum. He does not want to return simply to try to disband us. He would bring about a return to the chaos and terror of the old times — mages unmarked and unsworn, acting without rules or restraint, using their powers to force others to bend to their will, and every one of
them subject to the whims and goals of a madman of enormous power. A horrible fate not just for our order, but for the rest of the world as well. Including those kingdoms and villages many of us are sworn to protect.”
Several moments of silence followed Renaldiere’s remark. Calen hadn’t really thought it through before; maybe a lot of the others hadn’t, either.
“Could he really do that, though?” Calen asked into the silence. “I mean, believe me, I know he’s evil and powerful and everything, but he’s still just one man. Even with Sen Eva’s help, could he really overpower the entire Magistratum?”
“Oh, yes,” Renaldiere said. “I have no doubt of it.”
The bare certainty in his voice was terrifying.
Council Master Galida was nodding grimly beside him. “From the beginning,” she said, “Mage Krelig was known for being ruthless in his search for greater power. There are lengthy accounts in our histories of his violent acts, testaments showing him to be unalteringly cruel and without conscience or loyalties. He would kill every last one of us, destroy the Magistratum entirely, and kill anyone opposing him and anyone he even suspected of being a potential obstacle to his plans.”
“Even acting alone,” Renaldiere went on, “he has knowledge and power we could not hope to match.”
“And you don’t think he’ll be acting alone,” Mage Anders said. It was not quite a question. “And you don’t just mean this Sen Eva.”
Renaldiere looked steadily out at the assembled mages. “I would not presume to accuse any of our number of being sympathetic to his goals . . . but it cannot be denied that there will always be those drawn to power, and Mage Krelig was known to be very persuasive in his way. His abilities allow him to offer significant rewards to his followers. We must face the probability that he will be able to recruit some other mages to his cause.”
Angry mutters followed this, but Calen felt more frightened than angry. Mage Krelig was good at making promises. That’s how he’d gotten Sen Eva to help him, after all. It didn’t seem hard to imagine that he’d find things he could promise other mages that might win them over to his side.
The Princess of Trelian Page 6