by R. K. Thorne
Could she someday see her mother and father again?
She didn’t like the news she would have to tell them. About Dekana. But they probably considered both their daughters lost. Perhaps getting one back, even if not their favorite, would be some consolation… But that was a long way off. Although—perhaps she could write them a letter.
She was still not answering his question, she realized. He seemed to be pretending not to notice.
“Farsa was very beautiful. If I could go back to one—perhaps there.” The beaches had been Dekana’s favorite. Jaena crushed back a wave of grief. No—no, she had never liked beaches herself. That wasn’t her truth. Wasn’t there anywhere else she remembered she might someday want to return to? “Wait, no. The great market in Leniya, western Sverti. How amazing would it be to trade there one day? But such a thing is a long way off, if it could ever happen.”
“Oh, you never know,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. He strode back to her and held out his hand. She took it and made her way ungracefully over to the table, and she sucked in a breath.
The work was beautiful.
“So what I’m taking from this was that Hepan is very boring. Or you are mostly never there. Except right before you came here.”
“These are stunning, Tharomar. What? Oh, well, it was very boring. The capital, Sicat, has a magnificent library, open for all to enjoy. You might like it, a lot of ancient tomes.”
“That’s what you think of me? That I like ancient tomes?”
“Well… don’t you?”
He narrowed his eyes, but he was grinning.
She decided to carry on briskly, in case it had been a bit of an insult, stifling her own grin. “And it’s well known for its public gardens, saltwater pools, and mineral baths. But outside that, it’s mostly very crowded and dirty. And the rest of Hepan is much like Kavanar. Wheat fields, small villages. Nothing much to see otherwise until you get to the other side of the mountains and the rainforests, but we almost never traveled there. Did you make all of these?”
“Finally, I get it out of her, thank Nefrana. Now that you’ve actually answered my one casual question, yes. I did.”
“How long have you been a smith?”
He shrugged. “I began learning in temple.”
Door knockers, hooks, utensils, candleholders, pendants, hair sticks, knives, hammers, axes. Dozens of items littered the table, each with a similarly fine artistic touch. “I’d venture it must be a might boring here too,” she breathed. “I see you’ve been keeping yourself busy.”
He snorted. “Perhaps.”
“You are very talented.”
“You don’t have to flatter me, I’ll still give you a good deal.”
She glared at him. “I would never say something if I didn’t mean it. By Nefrana.” There, perhaps that would assuage him more than her usual mutterings.
“Think you could make some sale of these?”
Gods. Here it came. She had no idea how to handle this. He would see right through her. “It… depends on how much you want for them,” she bluffed. “But the quality is certainly high.”
“How about this? These aren’t doing me any good, sitting in my cupboard. Winter’s on its way, and there will be fewer traders coming by until the snow and cold breaks. You take some of these with you to trade, and you can bring me back my share.”
She raised her eyebrows, tearing her gaze away from the items. “I daresay you’re far too trusting.” Of course, his proposal was perfect. It would be a fine thing to have some items to start with, exactly what she needed to start off as a merchant. She thought she could get a good price in the White City or Takar, even. Perhaps he wasn’t too trusting, because she would dearly love to make a profit for both of them. He just didn’t know she had a brand to dispose of, the Devoted to escape, and revenge to wreak before she got around to that. “Do you always trust everyone to do the right thing?”
“No.” He boldly met her gaze with a crooked smile and a twinkle in his eye. “But that ankle won’t hold you here forever. Maybe the guilt will lure you back.”
She let out a bark of laughter but then sobered a bit as the implications of his words dawned on her. He… cared that she should return someday? “What if I invest your fine profits a few times first? As you said, traders aren’t fond of winter travel.”
“All the more for the womenfolk.”
She felt her smile fade a little but tried to hide it. Ah, yes. The damn temple of Nefrana, the religion that would keep you from truly… caring for me. Oh, Tharomar, if you knew my whole story, what would you do? Would you still want to lure me back? Would you send me away or call the Devoted before I had the chance to run?
Curse her stupid magic, yet again. Damn her for being born a mage. What had magic ever done to help her? It had only brought harm. She shouldn’t be surprised. The only thing surprising was this new, subtle source of pain.
“Do you want to think of which to take while I work?” His voice was surprisingly soft, as though he’d read her change of mood. She liked him better when he seemed completely oblivious to what was going on in her head. This new perceptiveness was unsettling.
“Yes, yes. That’d be good.” She had nothing else to do anyway. She almost offered to help him, but how could she explain, with her made-up story, knowing her way around a smithy? No part of a merchant or diplomat’s life involved pumping the bellows, let alone trying to explain all the ways she was able to help with her magic.
But she glanced after him wistfully. The thought of working by his side was strangely appealing. And she’d been so excited to get away from those horseshoes. If only she could have told him the truth, and if he could have actually accepted it… what could things have been like?
She shook her head and tried to focus on the ironwork before her. That was a dream, another life, an impossibility. And she was much more likely to simply get caught by the Devoted first.
Aven stared at the rock filling the graceful archways that had once been the grand entryway to Estun. To his home. Had the others gotten out of the guard towers and the tunnel in time? How long would it take to clear this out? To rebuild? Would it ever be quite the same? There were other ways out but none as large or direct as this.
Toyl and his mother approached where he and Miara stood, staring at the devastation.
“I really must speak with you, my lord,” Toyl said. “Privately, please.”
“It can’t wait until after all this is… handled?” Aven gestured vaguely at the collapse.
“Unfortunately, no. If anything, this hastens my departure.”
Aven nodded. He squeezed Miara’s arm and let his mother lead her over to the group of other mages. They would all need to rest and recover. They’d meant the demonstration to be dramatic enough to use most of their energy—no one had thought an attack would happen at all, let alone that it might follow so soon after. With all that, he hoped they would get back to their rooms and rest. Who knew what else might happen? Aven was one of the few mages not utterly fatigued at this point. At least he was getting back into his training sprints.
Aven led Lady Toyl to the nearby military affairs office, waving for Fayton to join them. That should be plenty private, a place where visitors would expect to knock and request entry. The usual two guards, however, were not at their posts. They’d probably rushed to help in defense of the collapse, although he hadn’t seen any helping the group outside the fallen rock. Could they have run into the tunnel too? Gods, he hoped not. He did not want to know how many were crushed under there.
Damn them and their foolish arrogance. They needed trained earth mages, and they needed them now.
“I must stop in Dramsren before heading on to the Assembly in Panar, so I had been planning to leave later today,” Toyl said as they entered. The room was nearly pitch-black; this was not one the rooms in Estun with windows.
“Well, that may prove a bit difficult after that cave-in.” Aven headed to the hearth and stoked the flame
s, throwing on a log, while Fayton lit several candles. While Lady Toyl examined the books above the record cabinets, he fed the flames a little extra, and soon the hearth was ablaze.
“I am still planning to take to the east gate on foot if need be. I will not be the one who doesn’t make it to an Assembly.”
“You may not be able to make it all the way to the horses, nor do we know what condition the stable itself or the storm is in. But at the very worst, you could trek down to the villages and get horses there.” The two of them stood, one on each side of the hearth fire. Fayton busied himself straightening the shelves. The rest of the room seemed cold, as it was still dark. Aven could feel the oncoming winter in his bones.
“We will find some way,” said Toyl briskly. “I’ve got a solid back to climb down from this mountain. I plan to beat that brat Alikar to Panar, or close to it.”
“Wait, he hasn’t left yet, has he?” Aven leaned against the hearth stone, letting the heat from the fire beat on him. The heat was barely enough, especially given the thin sheen of sweat cooling him from racing around under the falling rock.
“He’s not left yet,” she assured him. “Your father required us all to be here at least until this demonstration. But Beneral is preparing to ride as we speak. I plan to ride with him, if we can. Safety in numbers and all that.”
“Understandable.” Aven nodded, folding his arms.
“Watching all that rock crumble over your head hasn’t left me terribly enthusiastic about staying here much longer either. Seems like that could happen again.” She gestured at the ceiling warily.
“All the more reason we need mages to defend the hold from abuse like this.”
“Hmm. Perhaps. At any rate, before I go, I wanted to speak with you about all this.”
“Of course,” he said.
“You must have wondered at my complaints.” She clasped her hands in front of her, and he had the impression she was preparing herself to say something difficult.
Aven nodded, perhaps a little too quickly. “You’ve never seemed a terribly religious woman. Although I suppose people change.”
“Yes, they do. But I haven’t.”
“Then what is it?”
“I can read. You can read. I have read years of writings from the temples. Generations. The temples did not always condemn magic. Once, mages were some of the most pious followers, if you go back before the Dark Days. This condemnation is nothing but politics and manipulation. It’s dishonest. And if there is one thing I don’t like, my lord, it’s dishonesty.” At that, Toyl inclined her head slightly and paused to let the words sink in. “And so that leads me to ask, how can I possibly trust you, after all this?”
Aven let out a bit of a cough, not missing her point.
“I want to trust you. And your father. But I’m not sure that I can. And what are we voting for if not who we most trust?” Her hands were still calmly clasped, head tilted, demeanor placid. Funny how it made his heart race.
He swallowed. A fair criticism. It had never felt like much of a choice, though. The day when he’d realized he had magic—and that that was a bad thing—had been so long ago that he could hardly remember it, let alone choosing to try to stifle it. And he’d never denied he had magic either. But he’d known and had certainly never divulged it, although he knew people would have wanted to know.
Well, he was divulging it now.
He looked down for a moment, then back at Toyl’s dark gaze. What would she think if she knew about the other secret that he hadn’t quite shared yet? Would it confirm her concerns about him? “I value honesty myself. I never set out to deceive anyone. I didn’t want magic or seek to practice it; magic hoisted itself on me. I only sought to make it go away.”
She took a deep breath. “It does help to hear you say that. But of course, anyone can say such things. I need to know, my lord, if I’m going to support you. Are there other secrets you’re hiding from us? Any other snakes under rocks that will come back to bite me if I throw my lot in with you?” She arched an eyebrow.
No snakes under rocks. But there was Miara. But he couldn’t just go against his father’s wishes—or commands, really—and simply tell her. Could he? Damn it, this was exactly why hiding their relationship was a bad idea. People’s trust had been broken, and he was not going to earn it back by failing to come completely clean.
“If? Is your support truly so tenuous?” Aven dodged her question with a smile, although his stomach knotted.
Lady Toyl smiled back, but mischief tinted the look as if to say, perhaps it is, perhaps it isn’t. “I believe you are telling the truth about the nature of the Kavanarian threat. I believe you intended to tell us without any threat from Lord Alikar. I also believe that it’s possible to learn things about men that make you realize you didn’t know them after all.”
Aven crossed his arms across his chest. “Rulers will always have secrets, Toyl. You should know that as well as I do.” All governments held secrets, in different groups and from different parts, for better or for worse—but he hoped it was for the better. At the very minimum, to protect the realm, it did not make sense to tell anyone and everyone the location of every soldier, fortification, or armament. If the king’s secret escape routes from Estun weren’t secret, that could easily be used against him in an attack, like the one earlier that day. Keeping some secrets was simply required for being safe. More likely, it was not that Toyl did not want him to have secrets. She just wanted to be privy to more of them, as she was part of the government, after all.
Even if it didn’t make sense for governments to control the flow of information, he would still never explain to Toyl that he’d found a map that would allow him—and only him right now—to enslave anyone and everyone in the land. Wasn’t that a cheery thought? How quick would she be to trust Aven then? To support him? And who might he mention such a power to who might seek to abuse it? Such a “truth” could only come across as a threat, and Aven strove to avoid such intimidation tactics.
He sensed Toyl was only growing more suspicious in the growing silence. Aven needed some way to offer a token of trust, a symbol of his goodwill. “Listen. I understand your concerns, and I appreciate your honesty. But some amount of secrecy is part of keeping our kingdom safe. As a token of my trust, though, I can tell you something more, but only if you can keep it in confidence.”
His father was going to kill him.
Lady Toyl narrowed her eyes at him. “I ask you not to keep secrets and tell lies, and in response, you ask me to do the very same thing?”
Aven glared right back. “If you think any kingdom operates without some secrets, you are a fool. Or, more likely, trying to manipulate me.”
Toyl scowled, but muttered, “Fine. Your words will not leave this room, at least until you share them yourself.” Well, perhaps his father wouldn’t kill him if she kept her promise. But he knew he couldn’t completely trust that. No matter, he would rather her know the truth anyway, and this was the only information he had to try to earn her trust.
“Good. I will take you at your word. Do you recall the mage I brought back with me?”
“The intense one who stabbed herself and nearly bled all over us this morning?”
Inwardly, he winced. Was that a good or a bad way for Toyl to remember Miara? “Yes, that one.”
“What about her? That demonstration was informative, as promised. I am concerned the resulting cave-in was related, though.”
“It was not. We don’t even have any trained earth mages. She and the others you saw simply can’t do that with their magic.”
“Why do you mention her?”
Well after those comments, he no longer felt good about telling her this. But he was already too far down this path. “I intend to marry her,” he said with as much blunt confidence as he could muster. As Toyl fit the pieces together, understanding spread across her face.
“I should have known, the way you two were clutching each other back there. I saw you watching her a
t the banquet, but I thought you were simply curious about the new mages. But why the secret? Why the lies?”
“I have never lied to you, Toyl.”
Toyl pursed her lips, unconvinced. “You didn’t send that lovely dvora away either.”
“It’s a secret, not a lie. I haven’t promised to marry the dvora, that would be a lie,” he said.
“A secret is a lie you haven’t told yet, a lie by implication if you let it stand.”
“Not true, at least not always. The king suggested that sharing the news at the same time as news of my magic might be a bit much for people to accept. Especially as she’s a foreigner and a commoner.”
“And a spy, don’t forget,” she said.
“Past experience that I believe is an excellent virtue in a future ruler. She’s stealthy, can defend herself. Not exactly a warrior, but no stranger to fighting either.”
“No stranger to fighting? She damn near disemboweled herself without even wincing.” Toyl’s eyes were wide.
He stifled a smile. What was that, pride? “A true warrior then. Just the sort who would do well at all levels of Akarian society.”
“Maybe so. But I’ve heard rumors. Rumors that she didn’t rescue you, but kidnapped you,” she said.
“Both true, technically,” he replied.
“How—”
“She was a slave. Kavanarians commanded her to kidnap me. She did—quite a feat, if you hadn’t noticed. I freed her, and she freed me the very moment she was able to. The king has pardoned her from any wrongdoing for saving my life.”
“How do you know this isn’t some sort of enchantment?” Toyl said.
Because magic doesn’t work like that, he wanted to say. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? There was dark magic that could enslave and enchant, but right now, only he knew it. If anyone were enchanting anybody, it would be him, not her. But he really didn’t want to explain that to Lady Toyl just now. “She doesn’t have the power to do that. And this kind of concern is exactly why the king and queen advised we wait to tell anyone, and I’ve gone along with it so far,” he replied, running a hand over his face in frustration.