He hadn’t known what sort of welcome to expect when he’d first slipped through the study door. Would Serek be angry? Worried? Indifferent? Undoubtedly he’d want a full explanation of where his apprentice had been. Calen had stalled in the hallway, staring at the tapestries and trying to think of how to explain what had happened. Meg and Calen had agreed that he should tell Serek everything; it was just a question of figuring out how to begin. Finally he’d given up trying to plan it out. He was too hungry to think, anyway. He’d opened the door and walked inside.
“Ah,” Serek had said, looking up from his notes. “You live, I see.”
Same old Serek. Calen half expected the mage to go right back to whatever he’d been working on, dismissing him, or perhaps to direct his attention to some chores he’d missed while he was away. But Serek had placed his papers carefully to one side of the desk and sat back in his chair, looking at him expectantly. Calen had walked toward the other chair, saw that it was occupied, then made for the table instead, grabbing the olive jar on the way. And then he’d said, “Sen Eva Lichtendor is an unmarked mage and a traitor, and she and her son are planning to kill Princess Maerlie on her wedding night.”
After that it had been easy to tell the rest. Serek had listened silently, only asking questions here and there for clarification. His mouth had twitched slightly when Calen confessed to sneaking into the library to read about dragons, but that was all. And now he was calmly discussing Calen’s possible death at Sen Eva’s hands and the possible awful things the Magistratum would do to her if and when she were caught.
“Well,” Serek said finally, pushing his chair back from the desk. “First things first. How certain are you that the woman is a mage? Is there any chance you could have been mistaken?”
“I’m absolutely certain,” Calen said.
“And you’re sure she was trying to kill you? You did only end up transported, after all. How do you know that wasn’t her intention all along — to simply send you away?”
“Well for one thing, she had just been discussing killing us. Or me, at least, although I suspect she had already decided to kill Meg also. But beyond that, I saw the spell as she was casting — it was deep red, like the spell for killing weeds, only much stronger. Or the spell you used on that soldier, that first one who was attacked, when you were trying to burn out the poison. Only this was darker, and . . . worse, somehow.” Calen shuddered, remembering.
Serek had stopped and was looking at him intently. “You saw the spell?”
“Yes,” Calen said, confused. Hadn’t he just said that? “I didn’t immediately recognize it, of course, since it never occurred to me that she could cast. But once I realized what was happening, it was unmistakable.”
Serek was still staring at him. It was unnerving. Had he said something wrong? “Why?” he asked. “Isn’t that what red energy does? I could have sworn —”
“And then you crafted a spell in return?”
“Yes.” This was so odd. He’d never had to repeat anything for Serek before. The man remembered everything. In precise detail. “I know I’m not supposed to experiment, but under the circumstances . . .”
Serek waved that away. “How did you decide what spell to cast?”
Calen shrugged. “Well, like I said, I didn’t know what I was doing. I saw that red energy coming at us, and there was no time, and I was desperate to stop it from reaching us. I didn’t think; I just reacted. Blue energy just seemed right, somehow, as if it could help to block what she was casting, quench the fire — I don’t know.” He fell silent. Serek was frowning. Calen waited, knowing better than to interrupt his master when he was thinking. He couldn’t be angry, not when Calen had just been trying to defend himself, not to mention Meg. What else could he have done?
Serek seemed to have come to some decision. He stood up. “All right. Let’s try something. Watch and tell me what you see.” He pointed at an unlit candle and sent a small pulse of yellow energy to the wick. It blossomed in flame.
“You lit the candle,” said Calen.
“Brilliant,” Serek said. “What did you see?”
Oh. “Yellow energy, just a tiny blob of it. You sent it to the wick, and the wick ignited.”
“A blob.”
“Well, yes. What would you call it? It didn’t really have a shape; it was just a small amount, but it was thicker than a line.” This was no time for a vocabulary lesson. Besides, it wasn’t Calen’s fault that Serek had never taught him the proper terms for such things. “I don’t mean to question you, but do we really have time for this now? Maerlie’s life is in danger, and —”
“I need to determine something. By your own words, Maerlie’s life will not be in danger until after the wedding, so it seems to me that we do, in fact, have some time. Pay attention and continue.” He thought for a moment and then looked at the skull on the edge of the desk. There was a faint, silent burst of purplish fog. The skull vanished and then reappeared on the table beside Calen. Calen’s mouth fell open.
“You transported the skull! That’s — I thought that wasn’t —”
“As you have begun to discover, there are many things I have not yet taught you. Traditionally, apprentices are led to believe certain things are impossible until they are ready to learn them. It prevents them from attempting spells on their own that are beyond their abilities and potentially dangerous. Tell me what you saw.”
“Violet, I think. It was very faint. Sometimes it’s like that — until recently I had to sort of squint and look sideways to see anything at all. Now most of the time I can see the colors without even trying, but that one was difficult. If I hadn’t been staring right at it, I might have missed it. Is that normal? Does it have something to do with how well I know the spell being cast?”
Serek didn’t say anything. He was thinking again. Calen sighed and waited. This was all very interesting, but he couldn’t understand why Serek was wasting time on lessons when he should be doing something about Sen Eva. She was a threat to the kingdom, and as King’s Mage, that was supposed to be Serek’s primary responsibility. Plus she was unmarked, which had to mean there was something Serek was supposed to do, some way to alert the Magistratum, so they could come and do whatever they were going to do to her.
Calen dug another olive from the jar and chewed it thoughtfully. He had hoped Serek would know exactly what to do, that once Calen told him what had happened, he would go to the king and queen and make some recommendation and everyone would leap into action and disaster would be averted. They would stop Sen Eva and find a way to fight the monsters in the woods, and everything would be all right again. Maybe he and Meg would even be regarded as heroes, with a big celebratory festival. After the wedding, of course. He tried to imagine what it would be like. Lots of food, to be sure, and dancing, and he and Meg would get to stand up before King Tormon and Queen Merilyn — no, not just them, but the royal family from Kragnir, too — and they’d get medals or something, and everyone would applaud. And even Serek would be proud of him, standing silently to one side, trying to maintain his usual stony expression but unable to hide the pride he felt in his young apprentice. It would be like that time Calen read the spirit cards, and Serek had been surprised and impressed. . . .
Calen stopped chewing. The spirit cards. This must be the terrible danger they were predicting. It had to be. He tried to think back. Had they indicated what must be done to avoid the danger? Not everything had been clear to him, but even Meg had said that some of the readings implied there was a chance. Could they do another reading? Would it help them figure out what to do?
“Do tell me what it is that races so forcefully through your mind that your jaw has ceased to work,” Serek said dryly.
Calen closed his mouth and sucked the rest of the olive from the pit, which he then added to the growing pile on the tabletop beside him. He looked at his master. “Is this what the spirit cards foretold? Sen Eva’s plan?”
“I should hope so,” Serek replied. “It would
be unfortunate for something even worse to be brewing at the same time.”
“Well, does that help us? Can the cards tell us what to do?”
Serek shook his head. “Divination is a far more subtle and complicated magic than that. We were warned, but no dealing of the cards can speak plainly about exactly what will happen or what actions we must take. Another dealing would be difficult, as our own knowledge would intrude upon any meanings the cards might suggest.”
“But couldn’t we —”
“Calen. Do not push me. Accept that I know more about this than you do and let us focus on what can be done.”
Calen nodded reluctantly. If he had learned anything over the past few days, it was that there was a vast amount of magic lore he knew nothing about. Serek had been a full mage for years before Calen had been born, and even he was still learning. He wondered abruptly what Serek had been like as an apprentice. It was hard to imagine him ever being young or impulsive or uncertain. Perhaps he had always been as he was now. That might explain why he didn’t have any friends, or any apparent desire to make any. He’d probably never had any friends in his entire life. One more reason to be grateful for Meg.
With effort, Calen forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand. His mind had such a tendency to drift off in every direction. Probably because he spent so much time waiting silently while Serek was thinking about something. His mind had to occupy itself somehow, after all.
“Well,” Serek went on, “you have certainly proven yourself to be more than capable of surprising me, Calen. Not just with your news — though of course that, too — but also with your abilities and resourcefulness. You’ve given me a great deal to think about, not the least of which is how to proceed with your training.”
Calen smiled at the implied praise. “If you’re asking for suggestions, I think you should teach me some fighting and self-defense magic.” So that the next time someone tries to kill me, I’ll be prepared.
“I was not asking,” Serek said. “And watch yourself. Whatever you’ve been through, you are still my apprentice, not my colleague.” He met Calen’s indignant stare and waited until Calen lowered his eyes. “However,” he went on, “I do believe some defensive magic may indeed be in order, since it appears you’ve developed quite a talent for placing yourself in harm’s way. It is likely that Sen Eva will attempt to kill you again when she discovers that she did not succeed the first time.”
“If, you mean.”
“When. Unless you’re planning to leave the castle grounds and remain in hiding until she returns to Kragnir or whatever she does after carrying out her plans?”
Calen shook his head. Of course he couldn’t leave. He just thought he’d be able to stay out of her way for as long as it took for Serek and the proper authorities to take her into custody. Which he had expected to be immediately. But he was beginning to get the feeling that wasn’t going to happen.
Serek looked at him for a moment longer before speaking again. “What I was originally referring to, if you’ll allow me to continue, were the colors you describe seeing. Have you ever wondered why I haven’t mentioned these colors during your training?”
Calen shrugged. “Of course. I figured you wanted me to learn the spells without relying on the colors to help me. Is that — is there a different reason?”
“Yes.” Serek was still looking at him in that strange way. “The reason is that I don’t see any colors when I cast spells. Nor did the mage who taught me. No other mage has ever spoken of colors to me, and I’ve never come across any mention of colors in any book I’ve studied.”
Calen felt his mouth working, but no words were coming out. Serek couldn’t see the colors? No one could see the colors? How was that possible? “But I swear I see them,” he managed. “I’m not making it up.” Was he crazy? Did it mean there was something wrong with him?
“I believe you. I think you may have a talent in this that’s uniquely yours, Calen.”
Calen just stared at him.
“Obviously, we will have to investigate this ability further. For now, however, there is the matter of Sen Eva.”
“And — and the things. In the woods.” No one else saw the colors?
“One thing at a time. The creatures you saw were still some distance away, while Sen Eva is here.” Serek pushed Lyrimon off his chair and began moving some books from his desk to the newly cleared space, glancing at titles as he stacked them and occasionally putting a particular book aside. The gyrcat watched this process indignantly for a few seconds and then glared at Calen as though it were his fault. Then he vanished.
“What will we do?” Calen asked. He wanted to pull up his legs but didn’t want to give Lyrimon the satisfaction. Surely the cat wouldn’t attack him with Serek sitting right there. Surely not.
“We will not do anything. I must send word to the Magistratum. That, before all. I cannot take action against Sen Eva without their consent unless she provokes it with unmistakable actions.” He held up a hand to ward off Calen’s protestations. “Words are not actions, Calen. She has done nothing to harm Maerlie yet.”
“She tried to harm me,” Calen pointed out. “Doesn’t that count?”
“It would if I had witnessed it and could testify that she truly intended to kill you. I do believe what you’ve told me, Calen, but I cannot use that to justify taking action. Especially because your knowledge is based on your seeing the spell, which as far as the Magistratum is concerned is not possible. I do not even have proof that she is a mage, but that will not be difficult to verify now that I know to look for it.”
“You can tell by looking?”
“No, but there’s a way to sense her ability through physical contact. If nothing else I can stumble into her, but I’m sure I can arrange a less obvious approach.”
The thought of touching Sen Eva made Calen shudder. “But we have to do something! What if they don’t respond in time? You can’t just let her kill Maerlie!”
Serek sighed and fixed Calen with another of his barely tolerant gazes. “Thank you, Calen, for pointing that out. I do not intend to let her harm the princess. I will consult with King Tormon and Queen Merilyn when they return tomorrow.”
“Return? Where did they go?” Serek’s gaze was turning dangerous. Calen hurried to forestall a rebuke. “I’m sorry to keep asking questions, but Meg — I mean, Princess Meglynne — went to speak with them, to tell them what happened. She expected them to be home.”
“Well, she will find that they are not. No doubt she will simply wait until tomorrow.”
Calen laughed out loud at that. At Serek’s expression, he hastened to explain. “Uh, I’m sorry. Again. It’s just that you don’t know Meg the way I do. I doubt very much she’s simply waiting.” He swallowed nervously. “Sir.”
Serek opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, there was a hesitant knock at the door. Calen’s heart leaped into his throat. It’s not Sen Eva, he told himself firmly. It’s not. It’s not.
Serek had turned toward the door at the sound. Now he looked back at Calen. Perhaps he could tell that Calen was frozen with fear, because instead of telling him to answer the door, he went to answer it himself.
Calen tried to quiet the hammering of his heart. Even if it was Sen Eva — and it wasn’t, of course it wasn’t — Serek wouldn’t allow her to kill him. Unless she killed Serek first. But surely if he was on his guard, she wouldn’t be able to do that.
Serek pulled open the door. His body was blocking Calen’s view. “Ah,” said the mage. He stepped back and gestured into the study. “Do come in.”
It was Meg, dressed in her serving-girl disguise. She stepped into the room and stood in the center, as though she didn’t know what to do with herself. Then she saw Calen and smiled. Serek closed the door behind her and leaned back against it with his arms crossed.
Calen jumped down from the table and went to meet her. “What happened?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just
tired. And my parents aren’t here.”
“I know — Serek just told me.”
“I told Morgan everything. She —” Meg took a breath. “She’s not sure if she believes me. She won’t do anything without talking to my parents, and she says even they won’t do anything without proof.”
“She is correct, Your Highness,” Serek said from the door.
Meg turned to face him. “You don’t believe us, either?” She had placed her hands on her hips.
“Actually, I do believe you. Or rather I believe Calen, which I take it means the same thing. But your sister is still correct. To act without proof in this matter would be foolish, if not dangerous. You would be wise to wait.”
“Wait for what? For Maerlie to die?” Meg shook her head angrily. “I mean no disrespect, Mage Serek, but I do not see the logic in waiting. I do see the logic in needing proof, however, which is why I’m here.” She turned to face Calen again and took his hands in hers. “Calen, I’m sorry to ask you this. But I need your help.”
He was afraid he knew what she had in mind. “What do you want to do?”
She looked straight into his eyes. “Tomorrow, while everyone is at breakfast, I want to sneak into her rooms and find some kind of evidence that will prove to everyone what she truly is.”
Calen’s skin went cold, except for his hands, which were still held warmly in Meg’s grip. How could she suggest such a thing without trembling in fear? If Sen Eva returned and found them there, nothing would save them. She would finish what she’d started in the guest suite, and they would both be dead. But what was the alternative? To hide, terrified and waiting, until it was too late?
The Dragon of Trelian Page 20