The Wandering Mage (Convergence Book 2)

by Melissa McShane

  “They are inhabitants of the shadow world, joined to ours again,” I said. There was no point explaining the convergence to this fool. “The world belongs to both of us. You don’t need to conquer them any more than they need to conquer you.”

  He examined me and sneered. “I know what you are,” he said. “They’ve played a clever trick, choosing someone who looks Viravonian and somehow teaching you our language. But you’re one of them. Kill her.”

  No one moved. “Kill her!” he screamed. One of the mages bent to pick up his board, so I set it on fire and he flinched away. The crowd muttered and backed up. “Cowards!” the mayor shouted, and snatched a sword from the ground and ran at me. That was unexpected, and I had barely begun to respond when Jeddan stepped in front of me, grabbed the mayor’s sword-wielding arm, and used the man’s own momentum to wrench it behind him so painfully he gasped and dropped the weapon.

  “Thanks,” I said to Jeddan. He nodded, and gripped the mayor by the back of his neck, holding him tightly. He flailed at Jeddan with his free hand, and I grabbed it and worked the walk-through-walls pouvra to slide my hand through his, making his face go white and the rest of him go limp.

  “Listen to me, you idiot,” I said in a low voice that didn’t carry any farther than the three of us, “you can either be a hero in this, or I can make you look so foolish no one will obey you ever again. This is the new world. That village is not a threat to you. They are allies. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to…open diplomatic relations with them. You’re going to start learning their language, or teach them yours—doesn’t matter which way that goes. You’re going to trade with each other.

  “And in a while, I don’t know how long, an army is going to march down that road, and you are going to help keep that village from being overrun. You’re going to do all of this because what you want, more than anything in the world, is respect. Up until now you’ve been getting it because you’re a bully, but I think you’ve just learned that only works until a bigger bully comes along. If you want respect for a lifetime, help people get what they need. Right now, they need direction. It’s a new world and everything’s different. You get to choose what happens next.”

  (I cleaned all that up and made myself sound more eloquent than I actually was. A lot more eloquent, actually. I was getting angry again, which makes me stammer, and when I tried to regain some self-control, I stammered more.)

  “What are you?” he said.

  “I’m a mage of the shadow world,” I said, “and I’m the wife of a Castaviran mage, and I don’t want both my worlds destroyed. Please see sense.”

  I knew the moment he decided to disregard what I said by the way his lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. “Hold him,” I told Jeddan, and while the mayor thrashed around trying to get away from someone a foot taller than he was, I walked slowly toward the watching villagers. I felt so weary then, all the anger gone, leaving nothing but cold sorrow. “Hi,” I said. “Sorry about the fire. I really was only trying to get your attention. Can I ask you one question? Who struck first, you or the, um, invaders?”

  They looked at each other, mute. “Just tell me,” I said.

  “We did,” said one of the men. He looked ashamed, and that lifted my spirits a tiny bit.

  “And you all thought that was okay? Because they were strangers, didn’t speak your language, and were mysterious, and that frightened you?” I said. I looked at the man who’d spoken, and said, “What’s your name?”

  “Aiden,” he said.

  “Aiden, was it right, what you all did?” I said.

  He raised his head to look at me directly. “No,” he said in a loud, carrying voice. “It wasn’t right. And I knew that, and went along with it anyway, because I was afraid. And I’m ashamed of myself.”

  “Thanks, Aiden,” I said. “What do you think you all should have done, instead?”

  He shrugged. “Try to talk to them. Find out why they’re here.”

  “Did you all hear that?” I said. A lot of nodding happened. “Do you agree with Aiden?” Murmuring, all of it agreement. I felt even more relieved. “Then this is what you’re going to do,” I said. I repeated what I’d told their mayor, but since I was calmer it came out more reasonable-sounding and I’m sure it was more effective. “It’s going to be hard,” I said. “But winter’s coming and I think you can both use all the help you can get.”

  “We’re experienced at fading into the hills,” Aiden said, “and we’ll help the newcomers do the same.”

  “You’re both newcomers,” I said, “and you shouldn’t forget that.” I glanced back over my shoulder, where the mayor hung unresisting in Jeddan’s hands. He didn’t look unconscious, just like he’d given up. “But I think this town needs new leadership,” I said. “Aiden, I’m appointing you mayor. I think you’ll do a good job for the immediate crisis. Then you can have an election, or however it is you choose your town leadership, and maybe they’ll keep you, or maybe it will be someone else, but it had better not be him.” I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder.

  “You don’t have the right to do that,” someone said.

  “Really? How would you like to go about it?” I said. “Because I’m interested in your suggestions.”

  The voice subsided. No one else seemed inclined to speak. “Then that’s settled,” I said. “We’ll go back and tell the Balaenics what you’ve decided, so they won’t attack you when you visit them. Make peace. Make friends. You might even make marriages. I did.”

  That was all there was to say. Jeddan let go of the ex-mayor and gave him a kick to the seat of his pants to propel him on his way. I pretended not to notice. We went back to the Balaenic village and explained the situation, which took far too much time because they had all these irrelevant questions they wanted to ask, but eventually we were back on the road and, coincidentally, ended up camping in the exact same spot we did last night.

  Huh. I was done writing, but I want to put this in too. I was about to curl up in my bedroll when Jeddan said, “I wish I’d been able to understand what you were saying back there.”

  “Maybe I should teach you Castaviran,” I said. “It’s less difficult than Balaenic.”

  “Not so I could follow along,” he said, “because I could guess the content. But I’ve never seen anyone control a crowd just with words before.”

  “I did nearly set all of them on fire, you know,” I said.

  “That just got their attention. Whatever you were saying…they knew you meant it. If you’d told them to follow you to Hasskian, they’d have done it.”

  I thought about that for a while until I had to get up and write it down because it was keeping me from sleeping. I’ve never been a leader. Haven’t had anyone to lead, for one thing, and leaders stand out, which I’ve tried not to do my whole life. I think Jeddan is wrong.

  And yet…talking to those people, even talking to that idiot mayor, I felt…I’m not sure what. Rightness, maybe. As if I’d touched on something true and had the power to show that truth to everyone around me.

  I wonder if that’s how Cederic feels. I only know a little of what leadership means, from watching him, and it seems more a burden than a blessing, all that responsibility. But it comes so naturally to him, how he listens so carefully to what people say, and sees solutions where other people see only problems. How he can command a room without saying a word. It reminds me of the day Vorantor was killed, just before the convergence, and Cederic held everyone together even though I’m certain he was just as afraid as anyone because we still didn’t have the right kathana. I miss him so much.

  I hope I dream of him tonight.

  30 Coloine

  It’s been an awful day. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less; 30 Coloine has been a terrible day for me every year for the last six years. Fortunately, it ended well—quite a surprise, actually. I think I might be able to sleep tonight.

  We’re making good time now we’re on the Royal Road. Balaen’
s King is erratic and hedonistic, our government is sometimes guided more by vanity and greed than by good sense, and the nobles play vicious games with lives, part of why my family lost its status I guess, but we’ve got an excellent road system. I don’t know if that’s down to the current Chamber Lord who has jurisdiction over transportation (lady, actually, Debarra Jakssar, the only woman in the Chamber) or if it’s something she inherited, but the major roads are well-kept and smooth. Of course, that’s going to benefit the God-Empress too, but there’s no point worrying about that.

  That wasn’t the awful part. The Balaenic village hadn’t had much food to spare, and we forgot to ask at the Castaviran village, so we’re running low on supplies. Jeddan’s good at setting snares, but now we’re out of The Forest—there are still trees surrounding the road, but it’s not heavily overgrown—there aren’t as many places for animals to shelter, and I think the convergence’s upsetting of the landscape has caused many of the animals to flee. So when we saw signs we were approaching another village, I cheered up.

  It makes me sick when I remember that now, because as the road curved out from beneath the trees, we saw smoke, a lot of smoke, and heard screaming, and there was far too much movement in the streets. Jeddan and I looked at each other, then I took his hand and concealed us, and we ran toward the village.

  It was carnage. Men and women were fighting in the streets, some with blades, others with whatever weapons they could find. Bodies lay fallen everywhere, some of them crumpled where they’d managed to crawl away a bit before they died. As we watched, a handful of men burst through a door with their arms full of—I don’t know what, boxes and piles of cloth, whatever they thought was valuable. Half of the main street was on fire, and I saw a woman climbing out of a second story window and dropping to the ground; by the way she landed, it looked like she broke her leg. The tingling numbness of the concealment pouvra seemed to spread through my body, making everything around me seem unreal.

  Jeddan tugged at my hand and we turned around and left. There wasn’t anything we could do. I know, I have all this magic, I should have been able to think of something, but I was too numb to think. No, even now we’re well away from it, I still don’t know how I could have made a difference. I wonder what started it. Not that it

  I was going to write “not that it matters,” but it does, because if we can understand what made Balaenic clash with Castaviran, and Castaviran with Balaenic (and I can’t imagine it was anything else that caused that horror) maybe we can stop it next time. Maybe. I’m depressed enough right now all I can picture is that now-familiar image of both worlds going up in an epic conflagration, and the survivors clawing their way out of the wreckage and still being unable to create a new, common world.

  We made camp and ate a scanty meal, then sat staring at the fire. Jeddan said, “We probably…”

  “I thought of that too,” I said. “But I couldn’t bear the idea of taking advantage of that calamity to stock up on food like some looter.”

  “Me neither,” Jeddan said, and we both went silent again. I know I’ve said I like being alone, and silence doesn’t bother me, but right then I thought I might scream if I had to listen to the emptiness one minute longer. So I said, “How old are you?” Then I wished I’d thought of something else, it sounded so inane, but he said, “Twenty-four.”

  “I’m twenty-seven.” And that was when I understood what had been niggling at me all day. “It’s my birthday today,” I said. “I’m twenty-eight.”

  He smiled. “I wish I had a candle for you to light,” he said.

  “I wish I had a gift for you,” I said. It’s been years since I had anyone I cared enough about to gift on my birthday. It was a surprise to discover I like Jeddan that much—he’s just comfortable to be around, and we have so much in common. I definitely think of him as a friend, almost as good a friend as Sovrin or Audryn, but in a different way.

  “You could tell me a little about yourself,” he said. “That’s like a gift.”

  So I did. Not much—he may be a friend, but we’re not close enough yet for me to tell him all my secrets. I told him about Dad and Mam and growing up in Thalessa, but not about Bridie or Roda, told him about traveling and learning pouvrin, but not about how the magic woke up inside me, told him about Castavir and how we’d come up with the kathana to save the worlds.

  I couldn’t talk about Cederic—I’m trying not to think of him at all, it hurts too much—but I did tell him about the God-Empress, and made him laugh at the story of my failed wedding to Aselfos, which in hindsight is pretty funny. Jeddan is a good listener, and when I wound down, he said, “Thank you for the gift, Sesskia. And good fortune on your day.”

  “Thanks, though that seems a wish that didn’t get fulfilled, given the day we’ve had,” I said.

  “We didn’t get caught up in the disaster,” he pointed out. “We still have food and shelter. We’re only ten days from Venetry—fourteen at worst. By my standards this has been an excellent day.”

  “Your standards seem low,” I joked.

  He shrugged and bowed his head. “I’ve been outcast for a long time,” he said in a low voice. “I did a good job looking like I fit in, but I knew I was different, and so did they, and the strain of pretending—you know what I mean. I should have gone traveling like you did, but I was too afraid to leave the village. But it was getting harder, all the time, to be normal, especially when I discovered the second pouvra and started thinking about learning more. Being with someone else like me…it’s like there was a rock pressing down on me, all these years, and now it’s gone. I hope that doesn’t sound too…I don’t know. Too sentimental.”

  It did feel a little sentimental, but I was so moved at his willingness to share something so personal I didn’t feel embarrassed. “I feel the same way,” I said. “The Castaviran mages are friends, and it was good to be around other mages, but there was always a gap I didn’t know how to fill because we couldn’t really understand each other’s magic.”

  “You and I can’t understand each other’s magic either,” Jeddan said, smiling.

  “But we’re getting there,” I said. “Tomorrow I want to work on learning the see-inside pouvra. And then I’ll teach you how to see in the dark. It occurred to me today that that pouvra alters the body, which is what you said happens to you when you work magic. Maybe that will make it easier for you to learn.”

  “Then don’t stay up all night writing in that book,” he said, and climbed into his bedroll. So I’m finishing this, and then I’m going to sleep, and tomorrow will look better.

  Chapter Seven

  1 Nevrine

  I’m frustrated because I felt so close to understanding the see-inside pouvra today, and just couldn’t make it work. Jeddan’s more patient than I am, because when we sat down to eat, and I complained, he shrugged and said, “Tomorrow, then.”

  Tomorrow, unfortunately, we have to do something about food. We’ve got enough left for one meal, and the terrain here is all plains, no more forest to shelter delicious edible animals. I think Hasskian is another five days’ travel north, but it’s been about seven years since I took this road, so I’m not sure. We’ll have to find a town before then.

  2 Nevrine

  Snowed today, not much, but enough that I wished I had a heavier coat. We shared a hunk of dried meat I found at the bottom of my rucksack. Still very hungry.

  3 Nevrine

  So much warmer tonight, even if it is just a shed. We came to a little town, a Balaenic town, well off the main road at sunset. They were fortified as if they expected an attack and had an elderly rifle they pointed at us when we approached. It took both of us talking in our most reasonable voices to convince them we weren’t Castavirans scouting their town in preparation for a raid, which apparently happened a few days ago. The town’s mayor was on edge; I think the townspeople blamed him for letting it happen, though that’s probably irrational fear rather than any failing on his part.

  We tried to e
xplain about the convergence, but it only confused them, so I settled for saying the Castavirans didn’t speak our language and were as confused as anyone. They didn’t believe me. I wish I knew why the Castavirans attacked. Fear, probably, but fear of what? The unknown? I know I wrote this before, but I have trouble believing everyone’s first reaction in this situation is going to be violence. Yet that seems to be true.

  We bought food and a tent—it took way too much of our money, and I know I’ll have to steal before we reach Venetry—and the mayor let us sleep in a shed, which sounds callous, but it’s more of an outdoor porch for sitting in on summer evenings, very pretty even though it was inadequate for winter weather. I think they were all still suspicious of us. I think they also thought Jeddan and I were a couple, since there was no offer of separate quarters. Just as well, because Jeddan gives off plenty of body heat and the shed is quite comfortable.

  4 Nevrine

  I’m snuggled up against Jeddan’s back right now, too overwhelmed by the events of the evening to feel self-conscious. He’s a good friend, but he’s also a man, and…I don’t know why that makes me feel awkward, because it’s not as if I expect him to attack me, and he doesn’t behave as if he’s attracted to me.

  Not that I’m all that good at picking up on those cues. I had no idea Cederic loved me until he told me, but I know now he’d felt that way for weeks without giving any hint of it. (He said he was waiting to tell me until the convergence was over, when things would be stable, so I’m almost glad he lost his temper at me because it gave us those two weeks of happiness together.) He’s so self-controlled it makes sense that I wouldn’t have observed anything, but there were moments that in retrospect were obvious, like the day he made me tell him about the collenna master’s murder. He used those th’an on me to make me sleep, but when he was done he brushed my cheek with his fingers, so lightly, and I knew it wasn’t a th’an but I was too ignorant to know a lover’s touch when I felt it.