The Wandering Mage (Convergence Book 2)

by Melissa McShane

  “I hope so. Is Audryn with the army, then? And Sovrin, and the other Darssan mages?”

  “All the mages who survived the convergence kathana are with us. Master Ustanz has also lost her magic, but as head of the translation corps she has proven her worth as an administrator and diplomat. They will all be relieved to see you. It was two weeks before we could even prove you were still alive.” The memory of those two weeks, the horror of bringing Colosse out of chaos, the necessity of being strong for everyone else’s sake when his strength had been torn from him, filled him again with pain. “Two weeks,” he said again, faintly, and felt Sesskia’s hand grip his.

  “I had to believe you were still alive,” she said. “I must have tried to go to Colosse to find you half a dozen times, but every time something more urgent came up. I discovered the God-Empress’s army at Calassmir and Jeddan and I—Jeddan’s a mage like me, the first one I ever met!—anyway, we had to go to Venetry to warn the King and Chamber so they’d send out the army. And then it turned out there were more mages, and they were being bossed around by some idiot, so I couldn’t abandon them. Then I ended up as Mattiak’s liaison to the army, and then the army marched out—you see how the story goes?

  “I really did intend to find you. But now that we’re reunited, I’m having trouble regretting all of those detours. I did so much good, Cederic. I can’t wait for you to meet Jeddan. He’s—you know I love you, and Audryn and Sovrin and Terrael are some of my best friends, but I never realized what it was like to be friends with someone who understands magic the way I do.”

  “I look forward to meeting him as well,” Cederic said. “If only to express my gratitude to him for being company for you on the road.”

  “I did wish you’d been with me,” Sesskia said. “There were so many—” She cut off in mid-phrase. “I’ll tell you everything, but later,” she said. “When we aren’t rattling along in this collenna, freezing our noses off.”

  “I have other plans for later,” he said with a tiny smile.

  She looked at him uncomprehendingly. “What plans?”

  He blinked at her, feeling suddenly awkward. “Well,” he began, and she grinned at him and threw her arms around his neck.

  “I can’t believe you fell for that,” she said.

  “Neither can I,” he said, feeling both relieved and embarrassed. “Though I must warn you that my bed is rather narrow and has a very thin mattress.”

  “Then it’s a good thing that I don’t mind being very close to you,” she said.

  He tethered the collenna in the yard when they returned to the camp and left Sesskia watching the things shift about and butt against each other as if they were living creatures while he went to make arrangements for General Regates and her staff to meet with the Balaenic party. Then he took her back to the mages’ part of the camp and watched with pleasure as Sesskia’s friends leaped on her and dragged her away to trade stories.

  Then he was pulled away himself to be consulted on some matter of army business.

  Then some of the mages needed his attention.

  Then he was called on to perform some kathana that was just complex enough to require either four mages working together or one Kilios working alone.

  Dinnertime passed, and he hadn’t seen Sesskia for hours. He became irritable, and concealed it under an increasingly impassive demeanor that he knew was making everyone around him uncomfortable. Why did everyone come to him with their minor problems that anyone might have resolved?

  Finally, feeling as if he might erupt if one more person asked him a question, he told those around him that it was late (it was barely after nine o’clock) and he was tired (emotionally, if not physically) and he would be available in the morning (though he did not specify at what time) and went back to the mages’ camp as swiftly as possible.

  The common area, with its open-sided pavilion and enormous cookfire, was empty. Most of the tents were dark, but lights burned in a few of them, including his own. He pushed the flap aside and entered. It wasn’t a very big tent, but it held a table where he made notes on kathanas and tactics to share with General Regates, and a small trunk where he kept his things, and a narrow camp bed—that was currently occupied.

  Sesskia, buried under a pile of blankets and the fur rug he usually left bundled on his trunk, rolled over to face him, then propped herself on her elbow. Her hair fell loose over her bare shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but I didn’t bring anything to sleep in, and your tent is cold. I don’t suppose you can think of a way to warm me up?”

  Cederic began unfastening his robe, astonished at how fumble-fingered he’d become. “There are th’an that generate heat,” he said, pulling his robe off over his head and tackling his trousers.

  “Is that the best solution?” she asked, sitting up further and letting the rug slip off her shoulders. He groaned and yanked at his boots, which were in the way of his trousers.

  “The best solution,” he said, flinging first one boot, then the other, across the tent, “is skin to skin contact.”

  “Really? I’m not sure I believe that’s better than magic,” she said.

  Naked, he crossed to the bed and slid in next to her. It wasn’t as narrow as he’d thought. “It has a magic of its own,” he said, and laid her down beneath him.

  He slept as he hadn’t in months, deep and untroubled by dreams, surfacing occasionally to reassure himself that she was still there, then falling back into the depths. Sunrise finally woke him, but gently; he was first aware of a warm body nestled against his, then of the smell of her hair tangled across her face, then of her quiet breathing, and he lightly traced the line of her shoulder and felt her wake at his touch. “Good morning,” he murmured into her ear, and she rolled over to face him, smiling with such happiness that he thought his heart might break from pure joy.

  “That’s the best way to wake up anyone ever thought of,” she said, reaching out to push his hair behind his ear.

  “I think we can do better,” he said, and bent to kiss her.

  Later, tangled together and breathing heavily, Sesskia said, “I’m surprised no one’s tried to rouse you yet. I thought, with how everyone wanted your attention yesterday, that they’d be lined up outside the door.”

  “Everyone in this camp knows I spent the night with my wife,” he said. “I daresay they are afraid of what they might interrupt.”

  Sesskia began laughing. “How circumspect of them,” she said. “I’m grateful for it. And hungry. Can we get something to eat? And…” Her mirth died away. “I should return to the Balaenic camp soon.”

  “No,” he began, seeing once again that bleak emptiness, then shook his head to dispel it. “You are correct,” he said. “Much as I would prefer to keep you with me, your country needs you.”

  “The mages will want to know where I was all night,” she said. “By now everyone probably knows that my missing husband is a Castaviran mage, but that will only increase the number of questions they’ll have. I don’t know if it’s something about mages in general, or just Balaenic mages in specific, but friendly argument seems to be their default state.”

  “I would like to return with you this morning, to meet them. I wish we had time for me to observe their pouvrin.”

  “So do I. I’ll have to show you the new ones I’ve learned, later. It’s been a huge boon to have other mages like me to share experiences with.” Sesskia climbed out of bed and began hunting for her clothes. “Though it also made me eager to rejoin you so I could explore some of the possibilities I’ve discovered.”

  “I might have known your desire for me was not your only motivation for returning. You would no doubt have been content to wander indefinitely so long as you were capable of learning something.”

  “You taught me a few new things last night,” Sesskia said with a grin. She tossed his robe at him, and he caught it in midair. “Oh, Cederic, I missed you so much. I want all this to be over so we can go back to just being ourselves
, owing no duty to anyone.”

  “With the aid of the Balaenic Army, we have great chances of success,” Cederic said. He pulled on his trousers and bent to put on his boots. “Two more days, and we will know better what those chances are. Renatha Torenz has only a fraction of our combined forces, and there are those among her officers who may choose to throw their fortunes in with us.”

  Sesskia nodded, but her smile was gone. “Cederic,” she said, “there’s something I should tell you.”

  “Come here,” he said, and put his arms around her. “You have the look of someone who needs reassurance.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I killed a man. With magic.”

  His grip on her tightened. “When was this?”

  “About two months ago. We were on the road—Jeddan and I—and we were attacked by bandits. Their leader would have…Jeddan had taught me the see-inside pouvra, and I looked inside his chest and used the mind-moving pouvra to crush his heart. It…was so easy, it frightened me.”

  She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes shadowed with memory. “I don’t regret his death any more than I do that of the man who tried to rape me. And Mattiak and I talked about it, and I know it doesn’t mean I have to use those pouvrin that way just because I can. But I can’t help wondering, after you said the God-Empress might need to be executed, if it might not be better for everyone if I just sneaked into her camp—”

  “No,” Cederic said, appalled at the image. “We are not that desperate. Take her life if she threatens yours, certainly, but you are no killer, my love, and I would prefer that you not become one.”

  “I know,” she said, relaxing just a little. “But I thought I should ask.”

  “You should consider getting medical training,” he said. “We have kathanas that do what you describe, but they require at least three people. If you can perform the same magic alone, what an advantage that would be.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” She sounded more cheerful, and it relieved his heart. Sesskia as assassin. It was too awful to contemplate.

  He changed his grip on her to hold her at arm’s length. “I find I am extremely hungry,” he said, “so let us join the others for a meal, and then I will, with extreme reluctance, restore you to your people.”

  “I’ll ride with you this afternoon. I still have a lot to tell you.” Her eyes went wide. “And speaking of telling people things, how could you not tell me that Audryn is pregnant? I was so surprised!”

  “So was she, as I understand it,” Cederic said. “I think her condition played a large part in returning Master Peressten to us.”

  “The way she told it, she broke down completely after two weeks of his silence and had a hysterical fit, screaming things about how she wasn’t going to raise their child alone, and that finally got through to him. He said you also took him by the collar and told him his brains hadn’t gone the way of his magic. He’s different now. Less restless, more centered. I like the change.”

  “So do I,” Cederic said. “I am resigned to the fact that he will never be Kilios, which I had anticipated with great pleasure. I think none of us knows exactly what he will become now, except that it will be something remarkable.”

  They were late in rising, and people were breaking camp all around them, but they shared their meal with Master Engilles, who was also a late riser these days. He was accustomed to eating with all the mages now and not just the Sais; the artificial barrier of status that had formerly separated them was gone, cleared away by the shock of the convergence and the grueling weeks that had followed it. They still treated him with respect, and he knew the formality of his demeanor kept them at a distance, but it was not so great a distance as before. He’d never realized he was lonely until Sesskia came along, and never realized how much he needed human companionship until she was gone.

  They rode in the collenna back to the Balaenic camp, which had begun traveling before sunrise in their effort to narrow the gap between their companies. Sesskia’s mages were refreshingly informal with him—they had no idea what his rank meant, were impressed with him mainly because he was Sesskia’s mysterious husband and a foreign mage. He had time only for a few moment’s conversation before he had to return to his duties in his own camp, but he was struck by how much their enthusiasm and curiosity about magic matched Sesskia’s.

  Are we so inherently different, then? he wondered as he rode back alone. Or is it the nature of how they became mages that drives them to increase their knowledge? They are inventing, or reinventing, an entire school of magic where Castaviran mages can rely on learning what has already been discovered. What will we be able to teach each other, when there is finally time?

  He had to work at not being irritable and distracted that morning. I am Kilios, and their leader, he reminded himself, and they deserve my full attention. But he was still heartened when, as they stopped for a noon meal, he saw Sesskia coming toward him, munching on a piece of bread folded around a thick slab of cheese. “I was too eager to wait for anything more complicated,” she said. “That collenna of yours seems as eager to be off as I am.”

  He hadn’t realized how much he still had to tell her until they were riding along, trading stories. Most important was learning what she had to tell him about the King of Balaen, none of which made him less anxious about the course they’d chosen. “He’s weak,” Sesskia said bluntly. “And he’s afraid for his own safety. He almost didn’t let any of my mages come with the army, even though that’s what we’d been training to do, because he wanted them for his personal protection. Sheer chance that it turned out to be a good thing that half of them stayed behind, if the God-Empress is besieging Venetry.”

  “So his councilors are the stronger personalities,” Cederic said.

  She shrugged. “Some of them. Caelen Crossar certainly believes he’d make a better king than Garran Clendessar. He might even be right. I don’t understand enough about politics to know why he hasn’t tried to overthrow the King, but I know he’s going to be the one whose opposition to your plan you need to worry about. Jakssar is strong in her own way, but I think she’s overly conscious of having a lesser role because she’s a woman. I hate to criticize her when I, again, don’t really know how it works, but I think she’d be stronger if she weren’t so worried about whether or not they respect her. Batekessar is an old reactionary and hates change, but he’s ineffectual, and Lenssar is as much a coward as the King, plus he’s terrified of magic.”

  “But will the King accept my proposal?”

  “I think, if you can make him feel that you chose him because you respect him, that he’ll go along with it. My feeling is that flattery won’t work because deep down, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Put it in terms of him doing something noble to save two countries, and he might believe that.”

  “You’ve observed him closely, to know all of that.”

  Sesskia shrugged again. “He’s not a very complicated person. Cederic, are you sure this is the only way?”

  “You met the rest of our generals yesterday,” he said. “The king of Helviran and the queen of Endellavir are both possible candidates, and their representatives here are as unyielding and fractious as they are. The other two candidates are just as absorbed in their own importance. Elevate one above the others, and there will be war. It took all my persuasiveness to convince them that they will have greater power on the new Emperor’s council than they would if they tried to defend their throne against their rivals.” He sighed. “Something I will no doubt have to convince the Chamber of as well. At least we will have balance, if we can put all of them on the new council. Four Balaenics, four Castavirans. And a handful of others with more good sense to steer them in the right direction. I intend to discuss the problem with General Tarallan and see if he has any recommendations.”

  “Well, when you meet with the King, try not to pay any more attention to the Chamber Lords than you have to for politeness’s sake,” Sesskia said. “Show respect, but not flattery. And be confident
. He’ll feel better about himself if he believes he’s good enough to command the respect of someone like you. Also—” She picked at the neck of his Kilios’s robe where it frayed a little. “Wear something nicer. He won’t know what a Kilios is and you’ll just look like a shabby supplicant to him.”

  “Understood,” he said. “I would like you to be present, if we can manage it.”

  “I can’t stand with you, of course.”

  “No, but your mages represent a new power in Balaen, and I think if that power stands with your King, he will feel himself more on equal footing with us.” He put his arm around her shoulders and enjoyed how she fitted herself to his body. “I’m told your mages tore through ours like this collenna plows through snow.”

  “Most of that was being unexpected, and some of it was luck,” she said. “It was actually very hard. Castaviran magic is still more flexible.”

  “We ought to be putting our efforts toward finding commonalities between the two,” he said, frustrated. “We have not had leisure to examine the possibilities, but now that the worlds are united, we should be able to discover what magic was meant to be. We know only that it is not as simple as combining Balaenic and Castaviran magics, but, as with so many other things, the project has been pushed aside in favor of other things.”

  “I know. I could only justify developing the flitting pouvra—oh!” She sat up. “I never did show you that.”

  “A new pouvra?”

  “It’s how I returned from the Balaenic camp this afternoon—didn’t you wonder about that?”

  He hadn’t wondered, being so happy to see her that he didn’t care about anything else. “What does it do?”