"You're not a realist, though," he said urgently, to a woman who would be a queen, and was great-mage, and rarely stirred herself because, perhaps, she was rarely stirred. Was it worse to be useful, and choose not to act? How could he move her? "You're a playwright," he added. "And tragedies are so dull."
"Playwright?"
"So Gentian said. Find a different ending to this. Please." He gauged her expression, then added: "The Diamond would never live it down if you do."
That won him an amused narrowing of golden eyes. "You will never be accused of subtlety."
"Pussyfooting around never got me anything but delay. If all the logical and proper methods have been exhausted, isn't this the moment for the mad chance? If Gentian's spirit's drifting about this valley, surely there must be some way we can force her back into her body."
Rua walked off abruptly, moving to join Princess Kestia, casting a flight spell on her younger daughter.
"A farvelti binding would do what you're talking about," Leton said. "But for the minor point of being against the precepts and Sumican law, and thus the form is not commonly known. A farvelti compels the lost into a specified object, obliged to obey your will – it's usually done for purposes of interrogation – but that is not the same thing at all as drawing a spirit to rediscover their body. It causes considerable distress, and the strictures of the spell itself would be a barrier preventing full union."
"But it would make her aware, yes? And place her at her body. And then we could release the spell."
"At which point her spirit, diminished by the toll placed on it, will dissipate, lost even to the Moon." Aloren hummed two slow notes. "Only an extraordinary feat of will would alter that outcome."
"Given that's the outcome we already have, doing nothing seems the worse option. Besides, we're talking about someone who cast a torture spell on herself. Twice. Who returned to Darest against a vow on her name, and stayed even when she had to wake to something she thinks worse than torture, every morning. The Atlarans have all these little ditties about her legendary stubbornness. You think she'd just give up?"
"I think that it would be most interesting to watch you ask her parents' leave to cast a farvelti. But I have no objection to teaching you the form."
That hadn't been what he wanted, but all that was important at this stage was that she knew a useful spell and was willing to repeat it.
"Thank you, Highness," he said, and drew a shaking breath.
"Look to your own needs first," Leton said. "Dry clothes, and–"
"Dry clothes," Aspen agreed, cutting short anything more. "Dry clothes and then, for the Sun's sake, let's get out of this valley."
ooOoo
Aspen did not go near Suldar's body before he departed, but he bowed his head to her, and hoped that she had found the Moon's peace. The place where she had died would inevitably draw others after her, so strongly was it imprinted with her choice. And an act of his that would echo for decades.
He had found another coat with pockets deep enough to bury his right hand, and tried to put that from his mind as he rose and followed the trail of royalty heading north. The air had been full of sigil-communication, and the ships of the Fair had regained control above, but it seemed that no-one was inclined to stay in Telsandar to greet them. Instead, they all headed north, to the broad stretch of blue that marked Goldenrod Steading.
The colour was flax flowers. Playing about with fields of it seemed the dullest thing in the world to Aspen, but Shapers were a peculiar breed, and the results of the Calder-Varpatten experiments were profitable to Darest. A sprawling set of buildings surrounded by all manner of other plants sat on the slope of a hill on the eastern edge of all the flax. It looked idyllic, a drowsy place of peace, and it came as a considerable shock to fly within its bounds and strike a morass of grief and fury.
Aspen had never felt anything like it, and followed the lead of the flyers immediately around him, dropping quickly to the nearest stretch of grass in the wake of Aurak Bes. It took several gasps before he managed to stand upright, and see that he was not the only one with tears suddenly streaming down his face.
A tethered goat watched him laconically, and Aspen wiped at his face, struggling to separate his own tangled emotions from that born externally.
The Aurak was clearly receiving sigil-communication, and looked back toward the southern mountains. Dozens of flyers were already drawing close: the search parties, considerably augmented from their initial numbers, sighting their goal at last. Aspen had not known there were so many mages in Western Sumica.
It all grew a little chaotic then, as flights of mages each in turn homed in on their lost, came to land, and experienced the same bewildering wave of grief. A portion of the newcomers seemed to be Atlaran, quickly forming an honour guard around their Aurak, but most were Sumican. Among the well-armed mass Aspen struggled to spot any familiar faces.
"Is that mother?"
The low, astonished question had come from Princess Kestia, and was followed by a muttered curse from Jurasel.
"With Eneka and Thon. Lovely. Look about for a nice puddle to have our faces rubbed into. Might as well get an early start."
"Not with Meneth looking on." Lady Mara nodded toward another arrival, exchanged a glance with her wife, and then with an air of loins girded, the group headed toward the Cyan Queen.
Royalty and mage blood might be commonly aligned, but it was incredibly unusual for Sax and Cya's monarchs to join the notoriously hands-on Cerian queen on the search, even when it was their own children lost. Aspen suspected that their presence was more than a little linked with a certain conspiracy regarding Skrem.
The royal he was most interested in was also dropping gently from the sky, his reaction to the atmosphere at Goldenrod only an already etched-deep frown. King Aluster had a lone guardswoman in his wake, a discomforting illustration of Darest's current strength compared to neighbouring kingdoms.
He must have spotted Aspen before he landed, since he headed directly for him and said: "Tell me."
Ordinarily Aspen would enjoy few things more than spilling his heart to the divine Aluster, but under the circumstances he focused instead on speed and detail, and felt a measure of relief to have his king nod as if he was making sense. Aluster Rathen might still be catching up to the time into which he'd been transported, but he fully understood the dangers of Aristide Couerveur.
"I presume he's not contemplating imprisonment and execution. Does he have grounds to seek personal redress?"
Finding it difficult to put an unguarded moment into words, Aspen raised his hands, and his king grimaced.
"He's barely known the woman a week. What chance of persuading him to accept blood price? No, stupid question."
The Diamond himself appeared then, descending the path from the house in the wake of a lean blond woman. Beside him...it could only be Gentian's father, far too like her for comfort. And with them a tall and beautiful man whose soft brown hair had inspired Aspen to several complicated dreams the previous autumn: the Tzel Aviar, Damaris, Warden of the Borders and representative of the Deeping. A useful reminder that Darest was not necessarily an easy target, but also typical of his kind in refusing to involve himself in human affairs unless there were no other options.
King Aluster started over immediately, but Aurak Bes reached the group first, and took the blond woman's hands, bowing over them and offering condolences.
Red-eyed but composed, the woman shook her head, then said in response to a murmured question: "No, it's Goldenrod itself. Laeth's family has worked with it so long that the tie has become tangible. Despite all these years of absence, Gentian was part of this place. We felt the blow yesterday afternoon."
The woman turned then, and surveyed the assembled throng.
"So which of you murdered my daughter?"
As questions go, this was one to conjure silence, even out of complete confusion. And then all the side players moved away, and a down-cheeked Pup pulled free of his fat
her's hand to step forward. White-faced, shaking, but on some level stalwart.
"I understand that you felt some urgent need to avert a crisis. Did you succeed?"
The Pup flinched, and glanced over his shoulder at his father and brother, and the Phoenix in obedient attendance behind them. King Meneth, a more muscular and vigorous version of Chenar, didn't say anything, just narrowed his eyes. It was Leton who made a minute shift of position, commanding some form of answer.
"It – it had been..." Rydan jittered to a stop, then swallowed. "Others had taken – there was...it had already been prevented."
"A senseless death, then." Gentian's mother deliberately turned from Prince Rydan to the Diamond. "I have no objection to the course you propose, Magister Couerveur, if that is the one you must take."
Her husband took her arm, and the pair returned along the path to their house, no doubt to contemplate the breathing corpse the Diamond had presented them with.
By this time King Aluster had reached the Diamond, who appeared perfectly composed as he offered the king formal greeting. But Aspen was near enough to hear the barely-audible words that followed:
"Give me this, Strake. I find there are some things I cannot swallow."
An ignorant few called King Aluster the Diamond's puppet, obedient to his lead. And many others privately mocked and delighted in Aristide Couerveur's saecstra-enforced servitude, revelling in the circumstances that permanently barred him from the rule of a kingdom he considered his own. Aspen was well aware that the situation was far more complicated, a form of partnership based on mutual pragmatism and respect, and perhaps even friendship. Fragile still, but strengthening, and it was a good sign that the Diamond chose to ask for permission, for all he clearly didn't intend to accept any refusal.
"Very well," King Aluster replied, and while his voice was dry, he showed no sign of indulging his difficult temper.
The Diamond murmured a few more words, too low for Aspen to hear, then moved toward the waiting crowd. King Aluster shot Aspen a look of clear command before following him. Aspen, who had hoped the King would take over the difficult business of casting, searched unhappily for Aloren, only to find Rua leading the Cerian Crown Princess and her mother, Queen Myentra, toward him.
"Her Highness would appreciate a place to tend her injury," Rua said, as regal and reserved as a queen herself, despite the ginger kitten riding proudly on one shoulder.
"Of course," Aspen said, glad despite where this was leading him. Rua might have barred herself from the details, but she was sympathetic to his cause. "Right this way, Highness."
They turned toward the path, Rua neatly drawing the Queen's attention back to the Diamond just as he stopped some twenty feet from Prince Rydan and lifted his voice to carry over the crowd.
"The Tzel Aviar informs me that the Fair do not consider Telsandar to have been part of the Darien gift. Blood price can be negotiated with him at a more convenient juncture."
That sent a ripple of shock through the crowd, and though King Aluster did not look surprised, he could hardly be pleased. What would it mean for Darest's future, to have a Fae city planted in its northwest? Did the removal of Selvar mean the Fair would seek to undo the Darien gift, and take the kingdom for their own once again?
If the Diamond was concerned by that prospect, he did not show it, still wearing the faintest and coldest of smiles as he continued.
"Magister Varpatten's staff are arranging for food and places to rest for those who need it, though you will no doubt be anxious to return to your homes. But first there is a question of a life deliberately taken. Aurak Bes, would you adjudicate a Tejustra challenge to settle this matter?"
The Atlaran ambassador bowed his head. "Of course. Do you act in the stead of Magister Calder's parents?"
"No, I claim injury entirely on my own account. We had been fully an hour betrothed."
This caused a minor sensation, of course, and Aloren paused on the pathway to look back, brows raised. Aspen barely managed not to show his own astonishment. He'd known there was something there, yes, but he'd not begun to guess it had progressed so far.
Aurak Bes turned to Prince Rydan. "Are you willing to meet Magister Couerveur in Tejustra to answer for your act?"
"That's – you mean a duel, yes?"
"Combat to the death." Aurak Bes, although he could not know for sure that the Saxans had planned to use him as the Diamond had suggested, was clearly out of sympathy with them, speaking with considerable reserve. But he was also a kind and a fair man, adding: "There is no onus on the challenged to accept a Tejustra. It is a by-pass of the normal processes of law."
"The law in question would be Deeping law," offered Seylon Heresar from the edge of the crowd. His attention was on his brother, his usual air of light mockery replaced by a hooded watchfulness. "Of course, the Fair may not be interested in applying it." He inclined his head to Tzel Damaris, who failed to appear to notice.
The Saxan king, Meneth, turned from speaking to Captain Djol and came forward, face a welter of emotion, with caution currently in primacy. He had enough mages with him to make it impossible to stop him leaving without a fight, but while Darest did not have mages or even a strong standing army, Atlarus and the Deeping's involvement meant no-one was going to rush quickly to war. But he clearly had no intention of watching the Diamond neatly despatch his young son.
"It gains nothing to pile another tragedy on the events of the past week," King Meneth said. "I deeply regret your loss, Couerveur, but step back from this. It can bring no good."
A warning cloaked in sympathy and reason, and the worst of it was the audience of Cyan royalty, close behind Seylon Heresar. Aspen was quite certain it had been Aristide's own brother who had set Rydan on this course, and perhaps the Diamond even guessed at that. But it had still been the Saxan prince's choice to act.
"The challenge has been issued," Aurak Bes said, the man's authority rolling over the rising noise. "Rydan, Prince of Sax, it is for you to accept or refuse."
"I accept," Rydan said, voice breathy but determined. He shrugged off his father's hand. "I have to face the consequences."
"But I do not give you leave." King Meneth was absolute. "You are still a child, and should never have been brought to such a pass."
To Aspen's horror, a Phoenix joined the Saxan King. "Prince Rydan was in my charge," he said. "In such circumstances, I must stand in his stead."
Rydan went red, then white again, and all that blood rushing about set him swaying. "You – you would do that for me, Leton?"
"Is that acceptable to you, Couerveur?" Leton asked, with all the Guard Dog's flint.
Aurak Bes forestalled the Diamond's answer. "Prince Rydan, should Captain Djol fail, Magister Couerveur is free to pursue his grievance against you. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
No-one should look so happy after receiving a challenge from Aristide Couerveur, and there was something indecent about the Pup's shining eyes as he bowed with formal gratitude to a Phoenix.
"Couerveur?" Leton repeated.
"If you must," the Diamond said.
As Aurak Bes told them his Hapts would prepare a Circle for the battle, Aspen turned and barely prevented himself from dragging a golden goddess off for a tutoring session, merely striding ahead of her up the path. He didn't want to cast that spell, wouldn't trust himself on something so important even on the best of his days, but to have a Phoenix added to the pyre was...he would stop that. Absolutely.
The buildings above sprawled widely over the slope: a series of houses linked by covered walkways. Aspen guessed the largest would belong to Magister Varpatten, but hesitated in a boot-cluttered foyer, listening for voices to guide his direction.
"To the right," Princess Aloren said, drifting up behind him.
Aspen glanced toward what he could glimpse of a high-ceilinged room bright with morning light, but then turned, unable to stop words bursting out.
"That idiot thinks it's a gesture of love
. He doesn't see at all that his father must have ordered it. What can he be thinking? That it's romantic to have the Diamond kill them both?"
"Gauche, earnest and heartfelt." Aloren's expression was as judicial as Aurak Bes'. "That is what sends this awry. This form of tit-for-tat justice shows its brutality when exercised on someone so young."
"Old enough to kill."
The quiet voice behind Aspen was, again, far too like Gentian's for comfort.
"That is a grievous injury," Laeth Varpatten added, not to blood-spattered Aloren, but to Aspen, who instinctively thrust his right hand deeper into its pocket.
"I suspect I might need your aid with that, Laeth," Princess Aloren said, and offered Aspen a slow smile in response to his confusion. "There are few Magisters in Western Sumica who have not found reason to consult Laeth on some problem or another. The Varpatten sensitivity surpasses all but the strongest of the Fair. I'm very sorry to meet you again in these circumstances, Laeth."
"Strange that you met Gentian ahead of our plans."
"Yes. Though, given events, perhaps all those suspicions were not so unfounded."
"Plans? Suspicions?" Aspen was feeling particularly out of the loop.
"The Varpattens have long been accused of practicing Shaping skills on themselves." This was Frid Calder, emerging impatient and weary from the sunlit room. "We knew that wasn't true, but it occurred to us that Shaping might provide a solution to Gentian's exile. However, our expertise lies with plant life." She and Princess Aloren embraced, clearly on the best of terms. "Would you like a clean dress, 'Lore? I should be able to find something that will fit you."
Princess Aloren glanced down, and then flicked her fingers. Blood turned to dust, scattered, and was gone.
Bones of the Fair Page 28