The Silvered

by Tanya Huff

  “Come on.” Mirian was standing now, her own feet bare. She took a step and he saw the grass part, opening a path in front of her. When she ran, she ran with her whole body. He almost didn’t recognize the girl he’d resented, who’d stumbled and limped and winced her way to the forest road that first day. This Mirian ran like…

  …like she was trying to outrun something.

  Her scent was too strong for him to run behind her, so he ran beside her until it grew dark, then he lengthened his stride and cut her off.

  She slammed into his side, caught herself with two handfuls of fur, and laughed. “My feet know where they’re going.”

  There was something hiding behind that laugh. He changed so quickly, she still had one hand on his shoulder, and he stepped back before he could close the distance. “Your feet need to sleep.”

  “My feet,” she began, yawned, and surrendered.

  They tucked in under the low branches of an evergreen. Mirian pulled the branches closer to the ground on one side and rooted them, creating a living cave. They shared the food and then, when Tomas would have normally changed to sleep he stayed in skin and poked at the dirt with a piece of stick. “If you need to talk…”

  Girls needed to talk. He’d heard Danika yell it at Ryder. We have to talk about it! You never want to talk about it!

  He thought Mirian wasn’t going to answer, was about to thank the Lord and Lady for small mercies, when he heard her shift and take a deep breath.

  “I think…” Her voice had a quaver he’d never heard in it before. He didn’t like it. “I think I’m going blind.”

  “It’s dark.”

  “Not right now!” So much for the quaver. “My eyes have been getting worse ever since this started.”

  “This?”

  “Since the Mage-pack was taken. This last time, when I…”

  “Put half of Tardford to sleep?” The stick broke. He found another.

  “You’re exaggerating, it wasn’t even close to half. That aside, yes, when you were getting us out of the market, I could barely see at all and then it got cloudy and by the time we reached the pond it was mostly better, but the ducks were fuzzy…”

  “Feathery,” he said without thinking. “Sorry. And they were geese.”

  She poked his shoulder. “I started thinking about when I’d noticed it before and the only logical conclusion is that it’s the mage-craft.”

  “Is hurting your eyes?” Tomas knew a Fire-mage in the artillery who wore spectacles, and his grandfather also wore them…but his grandfather was old.

  “Maybe it’s because I have no mage marks. Maybe mage marks protect a mage’s eyes from damage. So without them, every time I do something—and according to Gryham I’m doing something all the time—my vision gets worse.”

  Tomas thought about telling her what he’d seen in Tardford and didn’t because she already sounded so upset. “Did Gryham tell you anything about mage marks?”

  “No.”

  “So you could be wrong. It might be lack of sleep or lack of vegetables.” He knew non-Pack needed more vegetables than Pack and they’d been mostly living on rabbit. “Or the air is different here.”

  “I’m not wrong. I went over and over and over it while we ran. Using mage-craft is blinding me. It’s the only logical conclusion.”

  “So what do we do?” He couldn’t make out her expression, but then he already knew what it was. He knew her shoulders had squared and her chin had gone up.

  “We’ll do what we set out to do. Save the Mage-pack.”

  “But if you can’t use mage-craft…” He paused, suddenly aware of the breeze clearing her scent from their shelter so he could function. She was using mage-craft even while she talked about it blinding her.

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t use it. Or that I wouldn’t.”

  “But if it’s…” He stopped when he felt her hand close around his.

  “We’ve come too far. And when you weigh squinting and tripping against saving Lady Hagen and the rest…it’s not even worth considering.”

  Shifted his grip, Tomas ran his thumb up the inside of her wrist. He could feel her pulse racing under the thin layer of soft skin. “Unfortunately, you’re right.”

  The way she sighed, he realized at least part of her had wanted him to disagree. “Stay in skin.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t change tonight.”

  The only time since this started that he hadn’t slept beside her in fur, there’d been a roomful of very fragrant people to help his control. “I don’t think…”

  “So don’t think. I don’t want to hold you,” she continued. “I need you to hold me.”

  She was asking for comfort. Tomas had to breathe for a moment, the air smelling of sap and earth and Mirian—in spite of her breeze—before he could trust his voice. “I need to put my trousers on, then.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  * * *

  The emperor was scheduled to spend the morning being briefed on the results of several recent international trade agreements and, as Reiter was not on the list of staff he wanted to attend him, he had another morning off. This time, he stripped off his court uniform, regained his anonymity as just another Shield officer, and left the palace. He had money enough to visit a barber or a coffee shop but not both, so he chose the barber. After, as he hadn’t been in Karis with the Shields long enough to make friends, he walked for a while, enjoying the noise and the smells and the complete lack of manners. He reflected on how unfortunate it was no one went to a whorehouse before noon, and reminded himself it didn’t matter as Mirian had taken his purse.

  When he returned to the palace to dress for the midday meal, he felt almost normal and more like himself than he had since he walked into that Imperial debriefing. The emperor’s attention was intoxicating, but he’d been in the army long enough to know what followed extended intoxication.

  That the emperor clearly intended to enslave—burn it, had enslaved—the Aydori mages made Reiter feel sick. He wondered what the emperor would say if he told him how he felt. It wouldn’t change the mages’ situation, whatever it was, although it would undoubtedly change his and not for the better.

  And that young priest would have another dinner companion to forget.

  Assembling after the meal with the rest of those who followed the emperor in case he needed facts about the noble families, opinions on what his courtiers were wearing, his mood lifted, or to hold a conversation about something no one else was permitted to talk about, Reiter stepped aside as a running page approached. Breathing heavily, the girl handed a folded piece of paper to Tavert who checked the seal and handed it immediately to the emperor.

  “From the north wing, Majesty.”

  “Really? Lord Hyde, what time is it?”

  The young man next to Reiter started and pulled out a pocket watch. “Half one, Majesty.”

  “That’s early.”

  There was a murmur from those around him agreeing it was indeed early.

  The emperor ignored them with what Reiter assumed had to be the ease of long practice and cracked the seal, flipping the single sheet open. It wasn’t good news; that much was obvious.

  “Tell me when it is two, Lord Hyde.” The emperor usually made requests to his little pack of hangers-on. That was a command. His boot heels slammed against the floor as he turned and Reiter got the impression he wasn’t hurrying to the foundry because he wanted to be there but because he wanted it done with.

  The last time Reiter had seen the emperor dealing with new technology, he’d been enthusiastic. This time he was agitated and kept brushing the foreman off, giving only a cursory glance at the machinery he’d come to see.

  As the clock on the foundry wall began to chime two, a miniature brass canon firing twice, Lord Hyde stepped forward. Redundant or not, he’d been given an order. “Majesty, it’s two.”

  “Tavert! Cancel the rest of my afternoon.”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

&n
bsp; “Captain Reiter!”

  “Sir!” It was a hard habit to break.

  “You’re with me.”

  * * *

  Stina thought she was five or six days from being able to push her door off the bits of metal that held it in place. That meant Danika had five or six days to figure out what to do if Leopald had a guard stationed in the corridor outside their cells at night. No, not guard, guards, they were always in pairs. And always the same twelve although they shuffled the pairings around. Unless there were specific night guards, that suggested their guards slept when they did. They already believed their captives harmless, merely going through the motions of guarding them into and out of the large communal room, but that would change if they saw one of the cell doors slammed out into the corridor. Or even falling to pieces.

  “Kirstin, what’s wrong?”

  Danika stopped her hand from rising to touch her scar, as Jesine’s voice pulled her attention across the table. Kirstin didn’t look good. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin, always pale, looked clammy. She wasn’t eating.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s clearly something.” When Kirstin ignored her, Jesine drew herself up, but before she could speak, Danika stepped on her foot.

  “Stina.”

  Stina was the most stable of the lot of them at this point, probably because she was the only one able to actively work toward their escape. “I hate to think what my lot have been up to since I’ve been gone. Their father lets them run wild…”

  As Stina launched into an involved story about her three children and the day they tied up the nursery maid with strips of torn sheet, Danika lifted her foot.

  Jesine reached out, fingers closing around Kirstin’s wrist. “Let me help. Is it the baby?”

  Lips drawn back, Kirstin snatched her hand away. “There is no baby!”

  ‘But the prophecy…?”

  “Soothsayers are insane. Everyone but His Imperial Majesty seems to know that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “That Soothsayers are insane?” Kirstin’s laugh lifted the hair on the back of Danika’s neck. There was no way anyone listening would think she was laughing at Stina’s story no matter that Annalyse tried to laugh with her. “Pretty sure, yes.”

  “Kirstin…”

  “My blood came last night.”

  Jesine shook her head. “There could be many reasons for blood. You could be…”

  “Miscarrying? Had three. I know what a miscarriage is like. I know because I had one just before the Imperial army decided to destroy our lives.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Jesine.” Danika cut the Healer-mage off. “She’s known all along there was no baby. She was still mourning her last miscarriage when we were taken.” That explained…well, everything. “That’s why she dared try to remove the net.” Kirstin’s expression suggested she was an idiot for taking so long to figure it out. Maybe she was. “They go into our cells when we’re in the water room and they go in while we’re here. Will they find anything?”

  “Like blood?” Kirstin snorted. “What difference does it make? Like the golden girl says, there could be many reasons for blood.”

  She was terrified and trying to hide it. Danika could see fear in every brittle movement and hear it on the edge of her tongue. There’d been enough blood then that no one could mistake it. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I heard the prophecy when you did, Alpha…”

  Kirstin made the title an insult. Danika let it pass.

  “…and Leopald needs six mages expecting children. There were already only five of us. What were their orders if they came up short? Would they kill us all and start again if they found out?”

  “You’re talking about your unfortunate stains on the bed, aren’t you?”

  Danika snapped her gaze up to Leopald’s little rathole so fast she felt the movement in her neck. She’d been so intent on Kirstin, she hadn’t noticed it open.

  “I admit, I was angry at first.” Leopald frowned in an overly false and concerned way. “But then I realized I should consider the misrepresentation of your condition as an opportunity.”

  “An opportunity?” Danika repeated, switching to Imperial. Eyes locked on Leopald’s face, she got slowly to her feet, hearing the others do the same.

  “Exactly. An opportunity I thought I wouldn’t get for some months now.” He leaned forward, hands on his knees, eyes shining as though he was about to share wonderful news. “I’m not going to kill your little friend, I’m going to start building the future of the empire now. I’m going to breed her.”

  Danika actually felt her mouth fall open. He’d mentioned breeding before, but she hadn’t…because he couldn’t…

  Straightening, he beckoned to the guards. “Take the small dark one to the door into the research wing.”

  “You’re insane!” Danika moved around to Kirstin’s side as Mole-under-ear and Poked-chin came away from the wall. She shoved Mole-under-the-ear back, her attention on Leopald, peripherally aware that both the other women and the other guards were also moving. “You are certifiably insane!”

  “And you are abomination,” Leopald snapped. “Which puts you in no position to judge.” The guards’ hands closed around Danika’s upper arms as he added, “Take her, too.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE EMPEROR PUSHED through the curtains at the back of the observation booth before the wall had finished closing, paused and stared up at Reiter, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed. “Something bothering you, Captain?”

  There were so many things bothering him, Reiter didn’t know where to start. Particularly as he’d like to stay alive after the telling. It wasn’t that the mage had called the emperor insane; it was that the moment the word had been spoken he’d realized it was true. One moment he saw the emperor, the next moment he saw a man. A man who kept pregnant women captive, not as an act of war or to keep the empire safe as Seen in prophecy, but for his own insane reasons.

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  The emperor barked out a surprised laugh. “Credit where credit is due, Captain. At least you’re not a liar.” He patted a bit of Reiter’s ridiculous gold braid and started down the stairs. “The dark-haired mage has lied to me since she arrived.”

  His shoulders were right there, right by Reiter’s boot, and the stairs were narrow and high. Unfortunately, there was no guarantee of a broken neck and, given that he was alone with the emperor, fairly high odds he’d die regardless of how successful the attempt.

  “I despise liars.” Most of the anger had faded from the emperor’s voice, leaving it tired and slightly betrayed. “Well, anyone would who spent as much time as I do with politicians, wouldn’t they? Still, the sixth mage hasn’t yet arrived, and I expect as long as I have them all pregnant at once, I’ll have fulfilled the prophecy in good faith.”

  “Uh…breeding the mage, Majesty, right now…is it…that is…” This was not a conversation Reiter ever expected to have, but maybe he could buy the mages some time. “Will she catch during her…bleeding, Majesty?”

  “A very good question, Captain.” The emperor sounded intrigued. “I don’t suppose you discussed fertility with your mage?”

  “No, sir.”

  “It’s hard to know what information will end up being important, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir. But with other bleeding…” Flame it! He was not using the word animals. “…females, their bodies aren’t receptive.”

  “They aren’t?”

  “No, sir.” Reiter found himself hoping the emperor had never had a dog.

  “I expect I’d have known that if I’d kept a few female abominations. There didn’t seem to be much point at the time as all my high-powered mages were—or were about to be according to the Soothsayers—female, and breeding my own was the ultimate point of the exercise. Still, that’s why we have the scientific method: observation, measurement, testing, and experimentation to modify the hypothesis. And nothi
ng else remotely like the abominations exist, you know. They’re unique.” Instead of moving down the narrow corridor back toward the palace, the emperor turned, and pointed at the lantern hanging to the right of the stairs. “If you could remove that, please.”

  The gaslines that had been brought in to light most of the newer parts of the palace hadn’t been extended into the north wing. Or at least they hadn’t been brought into the hidden corridor leading into the north wing. Was it because the gas was a type of flammable air and an Air-mage would be able to work with it? Wondering who filled the oil lamps and how much they knew, Reiter lifted the lantern off the ornate brass bracket and stepped back, giving the emperor room to reach up and pull the bracket down.

  A piece of the wall folded back, exposing a corridor that ran parallel to the room the mages were in. Had been in. Were being dragged out of by pairs of guards. The lever on the inside of the wall was in full sight, the works themselves were exposed—polished steel gears and chains and parts Reiter didn’t recognize. The emperor patted a brass curve fondly before closing the door and leading the way to the right along the hidden corridor, past another set of gears and levers, under a line of old-fashioned oil lamps.

  Reiter could do nothing but follow. He clenched his teeth so hard a muscle in his jaw began to spasm. He was impotent; considering where they were going, the word was darkly apt.

  “I hadn’t intended to take you any farther with me into the north wing. The work I’m doing there has only peripheral connection to the mages, after all, and it was with the mages that the Soothsayers Saw you’d be useful; however, two things have changed. Do you know what they are, Captain?”

  “The mage…”

  “Yes, of course, the dark-haired liar. That was a little obvious, wasn’t it? Actually, now I consider it, the second point is fairly obvious as well.”

  Reiter had no…“Cobb.”

  “Well done!”

  He despised himself for his involuntary flush of pleasure at the Imperial praise.

  “I choose my staff for, among other things, their ability to not speak out of turn. So much of my life is public, I like to maintain the minimal amount of privacy I have. To keep it, as it were, private.”