Before the Luck Runs Out: Can Magic Save Jedda? (Chanmyr Chronicles Book 1)

by TJ Muir

  “Uummm,” he said, addressing the servant- a girl a few years younger than himself, who smiled at him, flirting. “I need to go home, and inform my man,” he said.

  She looked at him, and blinked, mouth pursed. This was one of the house servants, not Trey’s staff. Jay realized she was not accustomed to being addressed. She was supposed to show him to his rooms, and that was the extent of her instruction.

  A house servant in Trey’s dark blue appeared, scowling at the girl who hurried away.

  “I need to inform my.. servant.. of this change so that he can transfer my belongings,” Jay said.

  “This has been taken care of. Your belongings and your man will arrive shortly.”

  Jay wasn’t sure how he felt about that, and he didn’t like the idea of Kirrin, or others, rifling through his personal things. But he just nodded.

  The man clapped, and someone came into the room, carrying a tray and placed it on the buffet. “In the meantime, there are refreshments,” the man said, bowing, and excused himself.

  It was late afternoon before Kirrin arrived, with a small team of servants that carried boxes and unpacked clothes and books. Jay watched, tempted to tell them to just leave everything. But a look from Kirrin dissuaded him from making that mistake.

  Jay led Kirrin into the library and closed the door behind them.

  “I need to send a letter,” he said.

  Kirrin nodded, understanding Jay’s meaning. Kirrin went over to the desk and pulled out pen and paper, bringing them over to Jay.

  Karrahk,

  I have received a summons to join Da’har ZoTrey’s Household. This was an invitation I felt ill-advised to refuse in the moment. I sincerely hope that this does not displease you in any way. Should this displease you, I will do my best to extract myself from this agreement. I hope that this is to your liking, as I would otherwise find myself in a difficult position.

  Jay

  Kirrin nodded his approval before taking the letter. “I can pass this along for you. I can come and go with less attention than you. It will be expected that your servant will have errands and instructions to attend.” Jay nodded, relieved. Later that night, Kirrin returned just before dark, with Hak’kars response.

  It is understood that some decisions need to be made in the moment. While this may not have been our preference, it does not entirely displease us.

  Jay learned his way around the house, even the servants' passages. He often ducked into the back hallways to avoid Trey’s advisors. He could feel their disproving stares. He headed down the hallways towards the library. He was hoping to find some kind of family ledger or journal. He needed something that would give him an insight to Trey’s family politics.

  He rounded the corner of the main hall and walked right into ‘Uncle.’ He tried not to flinch or cringe. This man had stepped into the role of Trey’s protector, as the closest family relative. Jay didn’t think that was the best qualification for a job, but then he realized he had no basis to judge. He had never had a real job. Spying didn’t really count.

  The man just stared at him, eyes narrowing, distrustful of the outsider and disliking anything that disrupted the balance. He knew that resentment was equally shared by every one of Trey’s relatives. “Uncle” just took no trouble to hide it.

  “Just where did you say you come from, again?” he asked, wasting nothing on formality.

  Jay had been dreading this moment for several years- when someone questioned his background. he felt the edge of a headache and wished nothing more than to get away from this discussion.

  “The Western provinces,” Jay said, keeping his voice level.

  “Where, precisely?”

  Jay swallowed. “Between Port Timber and IronHill,” he said, having rehearsed this bit in his own head many times. He and Kirrin had tried to choose an area very remote, but that had pockets of wealth. The lumber from North Timber was prized.

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “I seem to recall you saying your family were fish merchants.” His words dripped with accusation and suspicion.

  “Indeed I did,” Jay said, wishing the red god would step in. Or any god. Or even his elusive magic would be nice. “My own parents are just inland, and manage timber, as well. But it is mostly fish. They are close to the shore.” Jay felt like he was rambling. Just stop talking, he told himself. His head was beginning to ache. He was relieved when one of the house servants approached Uncle with a message. Jay took advantage of that moment to make his escape.

  Trey tended to keep Jay near him- much to the dismay of the existing staff and advisors. This much, the pecking order around power, Jay grasped. The form it took might be different, more polite on the surface. In Trey’s household, it came across as more polite, but on the street, it was more honest. You knew it for what it was, no guessing about motives and goals. Trey relied on Jay, to keep him company, and offer advice, especially when they were away from the various vested interests and relatives.

  “I did it,” Trey declared late one morning, having summoned Jay to his private quarters. Jay had no idea what it was but noticed that Trey looked both triumphant and terrified.

  “Did what?” Jay asked.

  “I dismissed all of my advisors. Leeches, every last one of them. Let the Red God take them,” he said, pouring out a large brandy for himself, taking a swig. Jay noticed the slight shaking of his hand. Then he sat on his couch, glass cradled between his knees.

  “I never wanted this, you know. I never, ever envisioned this for myself. While Taj and I were never close, still, I never envied him, never wanted his place. It should be him,” Trey said, voice trailing off. “It should be him here. Oh my god, what have I done?” he asked, looking up at Jay, terrified.

  By the nine hells, Jay swore to himself. What had he done? It was his own advice, earlier, that had caused this. When he had said it he had been half joking, helping Trey to blow off steam. He never expected it to actually happen. Jay suddenly needed a drink himself, and went and filled his own glass, tossing back a large serving of brandy. If this went badly, Hak’kar would be furious. It might go against everything Hak’kar preferred.

  He thought he was going to be sick, and hoped the alcohol would burn away his own fear. He placed his hands on the serving shelf, gripping it as though it were a fixed point that could keep him from panicking. When he had said it, he hadn’t expected Trey to actually do it. Now he felt obligated to help Trey wade through the fallout.

  “Well. Congratulations on becoming Da’har,” Jay said with a half laugh. “I think you are committed now. There is no way back, without losing all authority you might have had. Stand tall and play an offensive game,” Jay advised, again using Polarity as his guide.

  “Start meeting with your So’har directly. Talk to them. Listen to them. Ask questions. The same with Pavan and the other Da’har. Start clean, and put pieces into place one at a time. Let your advisors worry. Show you don’t have to rely on them --so that they need you more than you need them.”

  Trey looked up, a glimmer of hope showed in his face. He nodded. “I think I can do that,” he said.

  “One bit at a time. Choose where you want to start. Either what you need most, need to know or to resolve, or choose what is simplest to address first.”

  Trey nodded again, and Jay could tell that Trey was thinking. Jay had his own thoughts racing out of control, so the two sat in silence, sipping brandy, lost in their thoughts.

  Jay knew he was going to be utterly despised by all of Trey’s relatives. The thought of it all started to give him a headache. He closed his eyes, hoping it would subside. He just hoped Kirrin had the willow tea for him. Jay relied completely on Kirrin, for the many little things that he didn’t know regarding this world. Jay had been a fast learner, but even still, didn’t know when to choose one fabric over another, and which colors were appropriate for what occasions.

  “Willow tea?” Kirrin asked when Jay came into his rooms.

  Jay just nodded, fingers pres
sed to his forehead. “Please.”

  He went and slumped down in the chair, and then looked up, surprised. On the stand next to the chair were a block of wood and his carving knives.

  “Where did you get these?” he asked.

  “They were with your personal things. Does that displease you?”

  “Umm. No. Well. No. I guess not,” Jay said, not wanting to distress Kirrin.

  Jay knew Kirrin fretted and fussed over him, and was taking excellent care of him.

  “Perhaps you should consult with a healer?” Kirrin suggested as he handed Jay the hot cup.

  “It’s okay. It’s just a headache,” Jay assured him. He didn’t know how he would explain magical headaches to a medic. And he didn’t want to tell Kirrin what was causing them.

  “It’s just been difficult, helping Trey. I mean, just that I don’t know what the right thing to say and advise. The man just fired his entire privy council on a casual suggestion I made last month-span.” Jay tried to keep Kirrin apprised of anything important or relevant, knowing he would relay the information back to Hak’kar.

  Kirrin brought him hot tea, infused with herbs and honey, with a touch of lemon. And he put down a small bowl of the spiced chocolate candy Jay liked. Jay sat there, in the window seat, smelling it, enjoying the simple warmth of hot tea.

  Late that night, Jay got a summons from Trey’s personal man. Jay sighed, feeling relieved despite the hour; at least this was an informal invitation. When he got there, Trey was fully dressed, wearing a jacket.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” he said, swinging a leg over the window sill. Jay grabbed one of Trey’s jackets and climbed out after him.

  They talked at length, Jay listening more than speaking and offering little in the way of counsel, and much in the way of support.

  “Do you know that Pavan was actually insulted when I professed my love of northern cider?” Trey visibly shuddered, recalling the huge hoopla that had ensued, following an innocent comment. “I like northern ciders. The apples are different, and the alcohol becomes crisper. How is that an insult to Pavan’s orchards? And do you know, I then received an hour-long explanation about why it was an issue? Why, what I say, and what I do, impacts the local commerce? As if everyone is suddenly going to run out and buy northern ciders, and therefore bankrupt Pavan? By the gods, can’t I just have a preference for a cider or a wine now without it causing regional upheaval?”

  Jay didn’t know what to say to that. This was the schooling Trey needed to get, hearing things directly from the sources. What Trey learned and did with that information, it was too soon to tell.

  He draped an arm around Trey’s shoulders, brotherly affection, as they strolled along the private canals in the late hours. They walked through the night, talking. Neither of them noticed that it was beginning to get light.

  “I have a mind,” Trey continued, unable to let this one go, “to buy and give northern cider as gifts to every Da’Har and So’Har in the city. Serve it at every official function in place of wine.” Jay wondered at what point Trey might realize he could very well do precisely as he said. As Da’Har, he wielded power and authority, to set protocols within his Household and surrounding region.

  Jay pondered this, sharing this insight with Trey. “You know, you do hold the capacity to change lives, tremendously, without being aware of it. A small orchard and cider-vintner from the plateaus could have his fortune suddenly made, and just as easily, an orchard could suddenly find itself with a crop that had no buyers,” Jay explained- using the two apple growers as an example. Trey slowed his pace, considering.

  “The thing I truly love about you, Jay, is how you bring such a clear perspective to things. You think about how it affects people. Real people. I only see things the way every fawning leech explains them, about offending this person or pleasing that person. But to you? It's different somehow, in some way that I never quite get. I think it must be because you did not grow up in this infernal bubble that is Tatak Rhe. Your opinions reach beyond all of us stuck up prigs.” He straightened, up, shrugging off his moment of melancholy. “And I welcome that,” he said, slapping Jay on the back.

  He wondered what kind of Da’Har Trey might become. He certainly was learning not to answer every idiot who whined at his feet. Trey might do just fine, with a bit of time and experience. Would Trey need him then? Would their friendship change? Right now he knew he himself was in a position of power. What he said affected Trey, changed the way he thought and what decisions he made. But, Jay’s actions were dictated largely by Hakkar, who pulled his own strings and exerted far more power than Jay ever could over Jay's own life, leaving Jay both pulling strings, and being pulled. Would Trey learn how to pull strings like Hak'kar did? And if so, for what purposes? He wondered which of the two types was the truer power. Leashes and pets and masters.

  “Where are we going, anyway? Where are we, exactly?” Up until that point, it had felt like an aimless walk, but Jay knew that Trey had just realized he was being led. They walked for quite a ways, into areas Trey wasn’t familiar with- far from their usual haunts. Jay had led Trey down toward the canals. He had no idea what he was doing, had no plan. Instead, he just trusted the moment.

  “I want to show you something,” Jay said.

  “What’s that? What is down here that is of any interest?” he asked, looking less like the arrogant son of wealth and more nervous than Jay had ever seen him. They were clearly out of the residential sections and even the merchant sections, now.

  They had made their way through some of the industrial areas, buildings that turned hemp into cloth, and paper and rope. Brick foundries. Buildings where young children and young mothers ran the mills that churned out the cloth, ground grains, bent their backs polishing marble tiles, always breathing in the choking dust. All of the things that magically appeared on Trey’s plates, that Trey never gave a passing glance to. And past empty buildings, where people struggled to survive from day to day.

  “I’m not sure,” Jay said. “I mean, I know what is down here. I’m just not sure why, I mean, if what I am doing is right.”

  Trey caught Jay by the arm, a bit concerned and very much out of his element. He looked Jay square in the eye, trying to size him up, assessing him as a threat or danger. When he looked at Jay, Jay saw something foreign in Trey's eyes. Suspicion.

  “Explain yourself,” Trey said, sounding every bit the Da’Har he was becoming. Jay knew that this was a mask for Trey. His friend was out of his element and didn't know how to act. His new role, exerting absolute authority filled that hole.

  “Easy, trust me,” Jay said, putting every ounce of will behind the words. “I think you will make a great Da’Har. But I think before you do, well, you might… well, there’s a whole world, right around you, that you’ve never given a thought to. You’ve lived your entire life here, and you’ve been so sheltered, and so pampered, that you have never seen.”

  “How dare you?” Trey ruffled slightly, taking offense at the perceived insult. His eyes narrowed, a sudden distrust filled him.

  “Just come. Watch, look around. Learn,” Jay asked, as he led his friend through many of his old haunts, where children scrambled for scraps, snatching the bread that was tossed out, for having mold on them, the discarded produce from the markets. Thin, ragged children in clothes that were ill-fitting, a long way from clean, ages away from new. They watched workers, headed into mills for the daily shifts. Up and going barely after light. Dusty sooty back alleys- nothing like the cozy private back-alleys Trey was used to.

  “Why are you showing me this? And how do you even know about this?” Trey asked.

  Jay could feel Trey’s discomfort, the guilt of his own privilege, never once in his entire life questioned.

  This was the part that Jay had been wrestling with. He hadn’t known how he could reveal the dingy underbelly of Tatak Rhe without giving away his own past. And he couldn’t give away his past, without revealing Hak’kar, or the fact that he had been s
pying on all of his friends, for years.

  “I get around, and truth be told, I’ve had a few rough nights, when I first came here, well before I made such good friends with all of you.”

  As the Nibbin dipped below the horizon at the end of its second pass, Jay decided it was a good point to turn back. Cutting through a few alleys, it wasn’t long before they came back out on the edge of the city square. Jay could feel the relief flow through Trey, back on familiar ground, as they made their way back along the residential canals, toward home. They talked about Findal, and the rest of the group, that Trey was missing horribly by now.

  “I think I want to spend time with my friends. My real friends. Not the hundreds of people that I am supposed to entertain and cater to. I want to have a special party and have fun for a change.” He began to list the people he wanted to attend, a few dozen total. Then he went off on what he would plan to dazzle everyone. “And there must be fliers there. And boats. And northern cider.” Jay sensed that Trey wanted to surround himself back amidst all that was familiar and comfortable. Would the afternoon make any dent in Trey at all? Jay could only hope.

  It wasn't the wild extravaganza Trey had planned in his head. It was a small informal gathering- just as it had always been. The usual dozen of Trey's long-standing circle. Nothing was changed. And as Trey had made it very clear to all staff, that absolutely nothing was to intrude on their night- they had one night, at least, that felt like they always had.

  Watching the group, Jay was struck by the reality of Power. These people would soon, like Trey, be taking up their own positions of power- either through inheritance, or marriage, or both. The whims and preferences of these people- would and could shape the future of Tatak Rhe. That was when a second insight hit Jay, sharper than icy cold water.