I smiled. That was more like the sister I knew. “I learned to use daggers before I knew I could shapeshift. It was the most easily concealed weapon for an orphan to carry.”
“That’s right. I forget most of you went to orphanages.” Through the screen I could see Kila stand in the tub, her arm outstretched for a drying cloth. “Laki and I grew up in the capital before we were sent to different schools.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. “You and Laki grew up together?”
“Just until we were five. The Order and the military schools won’t take younger children.” Water sloshed onto the floor again as Kila stepped out of the tub. “Laki cried when they separated us, but I was kind of excited to be getting away from that house.”
“House? Not the castle?” I leaned forward, the knife in my hand forgotten. “Do you remember our mother?”
“No, Mother didn’t live with us. At least, I don’t remember her living there.” There was a pause as Kila scrubbed water from her hair. “I remember we couldn’t live in the castle because of something about the prince’s birth. Mostly we had the queen’s nursery maids looking after us. It was boring. We were never allowed to leave. The thing I remember most about the house was the garden out back. Laki was always talking to the plants.” Kila chuckled. “He used to get mad when I climbed the trees to get over the fence.”
I found it impossible to picture either Laki or Kila as a child. Had Laki been red-headed as his twin? What had he been like before swearing to the Order of the Great Canvas? Would they have become different people if Kila had entered the Order and Laki the military?
“Laki mentioned that the two of you met once,” I recalled, picturing my first and only meeting with Kila’s twin. “He said you didn’t get along well.”
Kila laughed as she stepped out from behind the changing screen. One cloth wrapped her from shoulders to knees, another bound her wet hair. “Didn’t get along? The fae get along with iron better than Laki and I got along. But still . . .” Kila trailed off for a moment, her eyes distant. “He was the only brother I knew.”
“At least you got to know him,” I offered. It was hard for me to miss Laki. I hadn’t known him the way I had known Cera. And, also, he had tried to kill me. But I could see how hard it was for Kila to miss him. “When did the two of you meet as adults?”
“It was just after the bounties were posted and I had to leave the army,” Kila replied, holding her cloth tightly to her chest. “It was Cera’s fault. She kept talking to me at night, saying we should meet. I didn’t know her, but I remembered Laki. She helped us find a place and a time to meet. I’m sure she hoped that once we were together, we would want to join up with our other siblings.” She paused, almost as if she wanted to say more.
When Kila didn’t continue, I pressed: “Did you guys fight?”
“We were such different people by then.” Kila smiled sadly. “I barely recognized him and I’m sure I disgusted him. We probably would have parted on worse terms, but a group of bounty hunters found us, and we had to fight our way free.”
“That’s terrible luck, having your reunion ruined like that.”
Kila met my eyes, grinning. “Actually, it was probably the best thing that could have happened to us. Instead of fighting with each other, we fought a common enemy together. It was easier to part ways, knowing he could handle himself.”
I suddenly remembered the bathwater, which was growing colder as we spoke. I kicked off my boots and removed my belt as Kila searched through a leather pouch. “Did you and Laki keep in touch after that?”
“Not really. I would ask Cera about him sometimes, but we didn’t exchange letters or anything. He did give me this.” Kila pulled a small wooden object from the pouch and held it out to me as I passed her on my way to the bath.
“A sap-sucker?” It was a tiny carved bird with a long, pointed nose, no bigger than the palm of my hand. Sap-suckers beat their wings so quickly that they appeared to blur; somehow the carver had captured that motion within the wood. It was a beautifully worked piece. “Did Laki carve this?”
Kila nodded. “I tried to give it back to him, telling him I didn’t keep anything that wasn’t a weapon. He laughed at me and said he wouldn’t have given it to me if it wasn’t a weapon.”
I shuddered, remembering Laki’s life magic. This beautiful carving could easily become a weapon in his hands. I handed the bird back to Kila. “You’ve kept it all this time?”
She shrugged. “I’m not really sentimental, but it was from my twin, so yes, I kept it. I’m glad I did now.” She curled her hand around it, holding it close a moment before putting it back in the leather pouch.
I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry about Laki, Kila.”
Kila smiled up at me before shrugging me off. “I’ve got other brothers now. And Laki is probably happier on the other side of the Canvas. Go wash before the water gets too cold.”
I finished undressing behind the screen, considering everything I had just learned about Kila and Laki. The water was still lukewarm as I eased into it, relaxing for a moment before picking over the nearly used-up blocks of soap. Beyond the screen, I heard Kila dressing.
“So, you regain magic by killing people?” I asked, curious. She had started this conversation by asking about my magic, so it only seemed fair that I ask.
“Not killing necessarily. Freshly spilled blood, that’s all.”
“Oh. That’s not morbid at all.” I dunked my head back in the water to wash my hair. “Have you heard that you were supposed to be the twin sent to the Order of the Great Canvas and Laki was supposed to grow up in the army?”
Kila snorted. “Like he would have survived in the army.”
“Well, I’m just thinking.” I lathered up my hair and sat back to let it sit a moment. “If you had gone into the Order, how would you come across freshly spilled blood for your magic?”
The sound of laces being tied stopped. “I never considered that.”
“Right? So how is it decided how we replenish our magic? Is it set when we’re born, or does it develop as we age?”
“You never wondered before?” Kestral’s voice through the screen made me yelp. I hadn’t heard him come in, but it might have been when my head was underwater. “How have the two of you lived this long without knowing anything about magic?”
There was a thunk of metal hitting wood and I imagined Kila throwing a dagger at Kestral and missing. That meant she was still playing nicely, then.
“Well, why don’t you enlighten us, Oh Great Mage hunter?” I said it sarcastically even though he had piqued my curiosity.
“Hunting is about knowing your quarry,” Kestral said from behind the screen. “The good hunters study magecraft before setting out to kill or bond mages. Did you both come into your powers in your teenage years?”
“I was sixteen.” That memory would never leave me.
“That sounds right.” Kila sounded thoughtful, as if she wasn’t quite certain.
“Generally speaking, most mages gain their power as teenagers, unless something traumatic draws it out earlier.”
When had Kestral started sounding like a scholar? I used a pitcher to pour water over my head, rinsing the soap from my hair.
“By then, your personality is generally set, so your magic can manifest and replenish in a way that suits your lifestyle.”
“Really?” Kila asked. “So, if Laki were in the army, he might have gotten my powers instead?”
I heard the hesitation in Kestral’s answer. “More likely he would have developed a different method of replenishment. As would you, if you weren’t constantly surrounded by freshly spilled blood. But your powers would be the same.”
I said nothing, considering how my upbringing would have gifted me with the ability to draw life force as someone slept. It fit. How much had Kestral put together about my past? Unconsciously, one hand slipped beneath the water to cover the marks along my hip.
“So now that Ea
gan and Velyn have each stolen new magic, does that change how they replenish their wells?” Kila asked, sounding surprisingly thoughtful. “I mean, does each magic replenish separately from the other?”
I did a final rinse and stepped out of the wash basin, giving myself a cursory swipe with a drying towel. “I don’t think that’s how it would work. The magic all goes into the same well, doesn’t it?”
“But it’s still two different magics,” Kila insisted. “Right?”
“I’ve been wondering about that, too,” Kestral admitted. “You seven seem to operate on a different level from ordinary mages, so it’s hard to say.”
“How are we different?” I asked, using the silvered glass near the basin to tie my damp hair back.
“Most mages aren’t as specialized as you all seem to be. What I mean is, most mages have a spark of power in everything—fire, earth, water, the whole range. Usually what they study becomes their specialty.” Kestral stopped, staring as I stepped out from behind the bathing screen, wearing only a loosely knotted drying cloth at my waist. I smirked at him and rolled my hips as I crossed the room—a preview of things to come later, I hoped.
“So, even though most mages can use a wider variety of spells than us, they still only use one method of recovery?” Kila asked, her eyes flicking to me before looking back at Kestral. Some people just didn’t appreciate beauty.
“That’s what I have come to understand about magical wells.” Kestral coughed and looked away from me. “Of course, it’s hard to be certain since the seven of you defy normal magical metrics. It’s possible that your mother Laurana bound each of your powers as children, to protect you from the Mage Hunt.”
“I guess that was nice of her,” I said, rolling my shoulders in a shrug. I hid a smile as the motion caught Kestral’s eye.
“It was probably all she could do for us,” Kila commented, eyes down on the whetstone in her hand. “I can’t imagine living like she did—a slave to the king, forced to give up each of her children, hiding her magic. I’d have fallen on my sword long before they could have imprisoned me.”
I paused, holding my clothes in front of me. I had never pictured my mother’s life like that before. I had been so concerned with preserving my own, I never thought what Laurana must have gone through, how she must feel knowing her children were being ruthlessly hunted across the realm. Or if she even knew we had taken to hunting each other.
After an awkward moment of silence, Kila returned to sharpening her knives and I resumed clothing myself. Kestral stayed quiet, eyes shifting between the two of us.
“Ready to go down to dinner, Kila?” Kestral asked finally.
Kila nodded, setting aside her knives. She ducked behind the wash screen to fix the scarf in her hair.
“What about me?” I asked, nearly finished dressing.
“I’ll send some dinner up to the room. You should stay out of sight until it arrives.”
“But what about ale?” I whined.
“I can bring a tankard up later,” Kestral offered. He pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on as Kila folded up the wash screen and set it against the wall.
“That’s not fair,” I protested. “Kila’s going to get more than one tankard.”
“Jealous, brother?” Kila smirked at me.
“Yes,” I snapped testily. “You’re not the only one who has been missing civilization.”
“Reshi, I can’t send ale up to the room, it would appear suspicious. The food will be strange enough, but at least I can explain needing it as extra for the road.” Kestral opened the door and peeked out. “The hall is clear. You can cross to our room.”
“Don’t you wish you could slip into a dress and be anonymous?” Kila asked me, winking smugly.
“Give me an extra dress and I’ll show you how it’s done,” I challenged.
Kestral dropped his face into his hand and shook his head. “Children. I’m not hiding a pair of mage-born, I’m traveling with children. Reshi, get across the hall. Kila, stop taunting your brother.”
My sister and I sneered at each other for a moment before doing as Kestral demanded. Using Kestral and Kila as cover, I darted across the hall to Kestral’s room. I already missed Kila’s town, where I could walk around as myself, having conversations with people who weren’t Kestral or Kila. Dancing and drinking and simply enjoying being me.
Of course, that had resulted in two armies arriving to kill me, so that hadn’t exactly worked out in my favor.
Once the door was shut behind me, I shifted to my cat form and ducked beneath the bed to wait. I could smell venison cooking downstairs, as well as bread and onions. I hoped Kestral would send something warm. I would be disappointed if the cook only sent up bags of dried rice and uncooked vegetables.
The door to the room opened and someone set something down on the writing desk. When the door shut with the lock clicking into place, I slunk out from beneath the bed, shifted, and whipped the cover off the steaming plate of venison and vegetables. Kestral had been thoughtful enough to send up a hot meal, as well as a few bags of provisions. I cut into the venison steak enthusiastically as the room slowly turned dark with the setting sun.
After dinner, I closed the shutters and lit the candles around the room. I could hear music through the floor, but instead of a group of instruments, it was just the sound of a lute. At least I wouldn’t be missing out on too much dancing, then. I paced the room, trapped and bored. How long would it be until Kestral came back? If I finished eating, then he should have as well.
Oh, dust, rust and ashes.
Kestral wouldn’t come back to the room until Kila turned in for the night. He couldn’t rightly leave his “betrothed” down at the bar by herself. That wouldn’t be properly chivalrous. And Kila wasn’t one to leave a bar until she’d emptied a whole cask. Dust it all, I was in for a late, boring night. Why had I fought so hard to stay at an inn, anyway? This didn’t feel all that different from camping when Kila and Kestral went out hunting together. At least then I had chores to do instead of nothing.
I practiced rolling coins across the knuckles of both hands, a skill I hadn’t completely mastered yet. When that bored me, I played with my fae blades, trying to get them to take different shapes. I had found out that, when thrown, they elongated into a long, straight shape but I hated to think about throwing them; so often thrown blades were lost to the battle. Since the battle with Eagan and Velyn, I hadn’t been able to replenish my bracers with new blades. I felt a bit naked without them.
When that became dull, which didn’t take long, I took to searching Kestral’s bags for anything remotely amusing. I found his skin of Goldwater Whiskey and helped myself to a tiny sip. The skin was nearly empty, so I couldn’t steal much without getting caught. Kestral had a few neat toys, like bolos and caltrops, both of which I toyed with before setting aside. Mostly everything was utilitarian, just the basics of what he needed for the road. Near the bottom of his clothes satchel, I found a few old cloth-bound books along with an inkwell and a brush. I squinted at the titles of the books, slowly piecing the letters together into familiar words. Common Magics of Zarapheth, The Battles of General Menneth, and Rune Magic. Not even a work of fiction or a saucy romance. I grimaced as I shoved the books back into their bag. Reading was one of those things my education had missed, though I had picked it up well enough to read signs or price lists. Reading a book would be abject torture for me. Better not ever let Kestral learn that.
In another satchel, I found Kestral’s magic-grounding gauntlets. I poked at one cautiously before picking it up and slipping it over my hand. Why had these made my brothers so nervous when they saw them on the battlefield? I had been too busy during the battle to see how Kestral had used them, but I also didn’t remember seeing any magic that wasn’t cast by one of my siblings. The gauntlet was mostly leather with steel plating on the back of the hand, wrist and around the forearm, so it wasn’t quite as heavy as it looked. Different runes were carved in the st
eel with plenty of space for more. In fact, I had seen Kestral etching new runes just recently. I picked up the second gauntlet, seeing that the newest rune stood out in sharp relief against the older, more worn runes.
The lock in the room’s door clicked, making me jump. Would Kestral be mad that I was playing with his gauntlets? I cringed nervously as Kestral stepped through the door and set a large tankard of ale down on the writing desk. He blinked down at my spot on the floor, surrounded by his haphazardly opened bags and scattered belongings, his gauntlets still in my hands.
“I, ah . . .” I looked around at the mess I had made. “I got bored.”
Kestral laughed, erasing the nerves I had felt about him finding me going through his things. He sat on the edge of the bed to remove his new boots. “Did you want to learn how to use the gauntlets?”
“No, they’re a little big for me.” I slipped my hand free of the one I was wearing. “I was just curious about how they worked.”
Kestral held his hand out and I passed him a gauntlet. “There are a few common runes used when bonding a mage, so those are all etched on the top row of the gauntlet.” He pointed to a series of runes around the wrist of the gauntlet. “If I activate a rune, I can ground out any spell cast by a mage bound by that particular rune.”
“So, it only works on bonded mages?”
“No.” Kestral hesitated, eyeing me for a moment. He turned a gauntlet in his hand, showing me the newest etching he’d made. “I’m trying to create runes against your brothers’ magic. It’s harder because they aren’t bound, so the rune has to be magic-specific. This is a fire rune.”
“An anti-Eagan rune?” I asked, tracing my finger over it. “And you’ll make a rune against weather magic, too?”
Kestral hesitated. “I’m trying to. The rune has to be activated just prior to the cast spell. I know that when Eagan throws his hand out, he’s always casting a fire spell. Velyn, though . . . he throws lightning and rain and hail and fog, each of which require a separate rune. And then I would have to know which rune to activate as he’s casting his spell.”
Sorcerous Rivalry (The Mage-Born Chronicles Book 1) Page 28