Daughter of the Disgraced King

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Daughter of the Disgraced King Page 6

by Meredith Mansfield


  Grandmama slowed down, but she didn’t stop. “I suppose he could, if he knew which barons to disallow.”

  Ailsa hurried to catch up. “But . . . I know Mama sends letters to the Institute regularly—almost every month. Surely she tells him which barons are good to their mages and which aren’t.”

  Grandmama stopped and turned to Ailsa. “Yes. That’s exactly the sort of thing your mother would tell him. And no one would be in a better position to pass that information on, either.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll talk to the Master after your testing. But now we have to hurry.”

  Ailsa paused while another thought slotted into place in her brain. “If my mail is being read . . .”

  Grandmama nodded. “Yes. As I said, I’ll talk to the Master about it later. After your testing.”

  Grandmama made for the first building on the right. It was one of the smallest, measured by length and width, but also the tallest, going up and up until it ended in a thin spire. An odd mixture of building materials—stone at the bottom, then brick, timber, and the spire was either metal or metal-sheathed. Each level ornamented in a different style, as if the structure itself had grown along with the Institute. Ailsa squared her shoulders and followed Grandmama up the broad marble steps and through the huge, brass double doors.

  She blinked as the doors clanged shut behind her. The only windows were high up, so the interior was dimly lit, all but a square in the exact center where the light of all the windows combined. Ailsa blinked again as she realized that the interior was one big room. There was space outside of that square of light for dozens of people on each side. A slight rustling in the dimness made Ailsa think that there might be some people already there, invisible in the shadows.

  The square of light revealed a colorful tile floor and five ornate cast-iron benches, one on each side of the sunlit area and one in the exact center. Ailsa had a sinking feeling about where her place was going to be in all of this. Sure enough, Grandmama led her forward into the sunlit square. She stopped at the edge and gave a small bow, nothing so distinct as a curtsy, to the elderly man sitting alone on the bench at the far side. Ailsa made the same curtsy she was used to making to King Ewart. The old man remained seated, but he nodded to Grandmama before indicating the center bench to Ailsa. Just as she’d feared.

  Ailsa closed her eyes briefly, then strode forward with as much confidence as she could muster. She stood in front of the bench, unwilling to sit until she was invited.

  The old man across from her—and he was without doubt the oldest person she’d ever seen—smiled and gestured for her to sit. “I am the master of the Institute of Magical Arts. It will be my task and my pleasure to test you for magical talent and determine your special gift. As Malina might have told you,” he nodded toward Grandmama, “the testing mainly consists of seeking resonance with the various fields of magic. Since there are literally hundreds of types of magic, the testing can sometimes take a long time. We will try to minimize that time by testing for the most likely first. As your mother is a heat mage, we will begin there.” He waved his arms to the sides and a pair of mages wearing orange-red robes stepped forward to the benches on either side.

  Ailsa resisted the urge to look behind her, sure that there was now a red-robed mage on that bench as well. She licked her lips and closed her eyes. She didn’t even know what it was she was supposed to do. No one had explained anything. She tried to focus on something, anything. A single thought drifted through her mind. At least, if I’m a heat mage, it will make the decision about Sav easy. Far Terra has no need for heat mages.

  Her skin prickled at the sense of magic swelling around her. Was it nerves that made sweat pop out on her forehead? Or was the room getting warmer? The temperature in the room dropped again and Ailsa released the breath she hadn’t been aware that she was holding. She opened her eyes so she could see the master’s response.

  The old man shook his head. “No resonance was detected. You are not a heat mage.” He waved his hands again and the red-robed mages rose and faded back into the shadows. “Very well. Your aunt is a water mage. We’ll test for that next.” He raised his arms and two more mages, women this time and clad in dark blue robes, appeared from out of the shadows.

  Ailsa swallowed hard. Her hope that she might be a water mage was about to be tested and might easily be dashed as quickly as her potential as a heat mage had been. She’d always had the knack of sinking into a calm, quiet place when her tutors tested her knowledge. She sought that mental space now, but it eluded her. Maybe that’s the difference between knowing the answers and having no clue at all what I’m supposed to be doing. She wished someone would give her a hint. Or maybe I’m just tired.

  The tingling sense of building magic tickled her skin again. As she watched, a tile in the mosaic floor in front of her slid aside and a jet of water rose from the depths. Ailsa emitted a small squeak and scooted back on her bench. The fountain disappeared. She looked up at the master. She was pretty sure that wasn’t the reaction they’d expected, but she’d really thought that her reactions during the journey here would mean she was a water mage.

  He shook his head. “No resonance.” The master studied Ailsa for a long moment. “Yet you are surprised by this result. Suppose you tell me why you thought you might be a water mage. Aside from wishful thinking.”

  Ailsa clasped her hands in her lap to keep from wringing them. Not a water mage, after all. “Coming here, I noticed that I always felt lethargic while we were crossing the desert, in spite of the green corridor. But I always felt better when we reached an oasis. And when we came over the Ring Mountains and reached that lake, I felt like I could have danced into the inn.” Ailsa’s shoulders sagged. “I suppose that was just the reaction of a desert girl seeing that much water for the first time.” She frowned as she thought about what had happened later and bit her lower lip.

  “What else?” the master asked. “I can tell that’s not all of the story.”

  Ailsa’s eyes darted from side to side. Sitting in this square of light, she could see nothing in the darker areas surrounding her. No telling how many people were there, listening to all of this. She really didn’t want to tell this story to a hall full of strangers. She looked up at the old man, but there was no reprieve there. His eyes compelled her.

  Ailsa drew a deep, steadying breath and focused on the mosaic pattern of the floor in front of her. “It happened later that evening, at the inn.” Once she started, she rushed forward, trying to get through the story as quickly as possible. She heard gasps and exclamations from the shadows around her. She didn’t look up until she’d finished.

  The master looked grim. “I will certainly bring this to the attention of the emperor.”

  Ailsa gasped. “Oh! Please don’t. It will only cause more trouble.”

  The old man looked at her and his eyes softened. “I have no interest in the internal politics of Far Terra, except as they impact the mages under my care. An attack on a student coming to this Institute is certainly within my sphere and the emperor’s. Anyone, king or commoner, who questions that is playing a fool’s game.”

  He sat back and studied Ailsa for a long moment. “Hmm. Perhaps.” He looked into the shadows behind her. “Hmm. It’s a rare gift. So rare it’s usually among the last things we test for. Still . . . Skipped a generation, eh? Well, stranger things have happened.” He looked back at Ailsa “It occurs to me that there is more than water at an oasis or lake. More than one kind of mage might have had the reaction you describe. A green mage, for example, would react to the increase and decrease in live, growing things.”

  A green mage? It was not something Ailsa had ever dared dream of. A grin spread across her face and her heartbeat seemed to thunder in her chest, but her hands curled into fists and she hid them in the folds of her skirt. Sav. If she was a green mage, how could she give that up for Sav? Her throat ached at the thought.

  This time when the master raised his hands, Grandmama stepped up to the bench on Ail
sa’s left, but the right-hand bench remained empty. Was this gift so rare that even the Institute of Magical Arts didn’t have three of them? The master looked around, clearly better able to see the people in the shadows than Ailsa was. “Someone send for Jathan, please.”

  “I’m here, master,” a voice called from above. “Father asked me to observe.”

  Ailsa looked up for the first time to see a balcony ringing the room. Even more people must be watching her from up there. She swallowed hard.

  “Of course he did,” the master said. “Very fortunate, too. Come down and take your place, there.” He pointed to the right-hand bench.

  Two servants carried in a large planter filled with soil. One dropped a single seed onto the dirt before scurrying back into the shadows. After a few moments, a young man, not much older than Ailsa, stepped out into the light and sat on the right-hand bench. An unruly thatch of red-blond hair was his main distinguishing characteristic. Apart from that, and a cheerful expression, he was quite ordinary in appearance—neither tall nor short, heavy or slim. He grinned and winked at her.

  Ailsa held her breath as the magic began to build around her. She closed her eyes and tried again to find that calm place. She had to stifle a gasp as the serenity of it engulfed her, feeling like the most natural thing in the world. She opened her eyes to find that a vine was already growing from the planter, coiling as it climbed upward. At every turn, it leaned a little farther toward Ailsa. A slow smile spread across her face. Surrounded by the surging green magic, she stood and reached out to the seedling. She touched the vine as it swung toward her. It coiled loosely around her wrist and burst into bloom. The large pink flowers suffused the air with perfume.

  The master stood up. “The test is complete. We have found a green mage. It now remains only for her studies with us to reveal how strong a mage.” He smiled. “The evidence would suggest that she may give you a run for your money, Jathan.” He chuckled. “Let’s see how you handle a little competition, eh?”

  Ailsa sat back down on the bench, too stunned to even think. It had never occurred to her that she might be a green mage. Images of what she could accomplish with that kind of magic bloomed in her imagination. Somewhere in the back of her mind was a small consideration for what this would mean for her relationship with Sav, but that was something she’d think about later. Right now, the thrill of her magic was too strong. A grin spread across her face.

  Jathan strode over and took her hand, bowing over it in a courtly fashion, but at the same time both fluid and casual. “Hello. I’m Jathan. As the only two green mages in training, I expect we’ll be studying together a lot.”

  She looked up and met his eyes. “I’m Ailsa.” Here, she didn’t have to introduce herself as Lady Ailsa. She didn’t have to carry the burden of King Ewart’s paranoia about her family. It was like a weight being lifted from her shoulders.

  He grinned and winked again. “I know.”

  Ailsa cocked her head and watched him saunter away. She’d never, ever been winked at before. Now this young man had winked at her twice in the space of a few minutes. What a strange mixture he was, reminding her at the same time of the best of Sav and the worst of Cergio.

  Ailsa shook her head to clear the fog out of it. Too many things had happened in just two days. She couldn’t begin to sort out what it all meant, yet. She had time for that. A whole year. Something tickled her wrist and she looked down to see that the newborn vine was still twining around her arm, more slowly now that the magic had been withdrawn. Ailsa smiled and very gently pulled the tendrils free.

  ~

  Ailsa’s studies began the next morning, right after breakfast, with a knock on the door.

  Grandmama picked up the last of the breakfast dishes and headed for the small kitchen. “Go ahead and answer that, Ailsa, while I clean up.”

  Ailsa stood up from the polished cherry-wood table and started across the main room. The largest room in the small house was divided between the dining area next to the kitchen and a larger area on the opposite side that was furnished more like Papa’s study—lots of shelves full of books and comfortable, over-stuffed chairs in which to read them. The kitchen and this multi-purpose main room were the only two rooms at the front of the house. A narrow corridor led to the two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom squeezed between them.

  “It’ll be Jathan,” Grandmama called from the kitchen.

  Ailsa stopped halfway to the door, remembering the impertinent youth from yesterday. “Jathan?”

  “Until yesterday, there was only one student of green magic,” Grandmama came out of the kitchen and headed straight for the tall bookshelf in the corner. “It didn’t seem worthwhile to take up a whole classroom for that when I have everything we need for your beginning studies right here.” Grandmama laughed at the look on Ailsa’s face. “Don’t worry. You’ll get plenty of time at the Institute, too, for more general classes. We’ll have to get your robes, first, of course. Students are required to wear them. Maybe we’ll do that this afternoon. Then we’ll discuss what other beginning courses you’ll need and get you started.”

  Ailsa opened the door. It was, indeed, Jathan. She stepped aside to let him enter. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” he responded. “Told you we’d be studying together.”

  There was something about his cheerfulness that drew a smile from Ailsa. “So you did.”

  Moments later, Jathan and Ailsa sat on opposite sides of the small dining room table. Grandmama sat at the head of the table, thumbing through a large book.

  “All right, Ailsa, how much did your tutors teach you about botany?” Grandmama asked.

  Ailsa’s brow furrowed. “Botany? I thought I was going to study magic here”

  Jathan laughed. “You don’t study magic.”

  Grandmama gave him a withering stare and he sat back without looking the least repentant. “In fact we will, eventually, conduct training in your magic. But first, you must understand your medium. Heat mages, like your mother, study thermodynamics. Water mages study hydrology. Green mages, like you and Jathan, study botany. Magic, as you’ve already found, tends to flow naturally. Knowledge of botany will help you guide that flow.” She looked with mock sternness at Ailsa. “For example, that vine we used at your testing yesterday is supposed to have orange flowers, not pink. Working with its nature is both easier and less damaging to the plant.”

  Ailsa’s shoulders drooped slightly. “I . . . we didn’t study much of what you’d call real science about plants. Just the names of some of the most important ones and where they grow. I used to help the gardeners some, when I was little. Mama hasn’t let me do that since I turned twelve, though.”

  “Well, then. We’ll start at the beginning. Jathan isn’t that far ahead of you.”

  “Or I could just study on my own for a bit,” Jathan said. “Maybe go out and try a little practical application.”

  Grandmama smiled but shook her head. “You needn’t be in such a rush. The review won’t do you any harm.”

  Jathan sat back. For once he wasn’t smiling.

  Grandmother turned to Ailsa. “Jathan tends to be a little impatient with the book work. Something, as I recall, you’ve always excelled at, Ailsa. You two should be able to help each other with your studies quite a bit.”

  ~

  When Grandmama closed her book after their class the next day, Ailsa stood up and pulled on her brand new student robes. The open, sleeveless, full-length robe of grass green proclaimed her a green-mage-in-training even if she didn’t have very much green clothing yet.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Grandmama asked.

  “I have . . . um.” Ailsa paused to check the schedule of classes that Grandmama had written out for her yesterday afternoon. “Um, History of Magic in about an hour. I thought I’d go over to the Institute now and explore some of the gardens on the way.”

  Grandmama tapped her fingers on the cover of the book. “I don’t think that’s such a good
idea. I don’t want you wandering around alone.”

  Ailsa jerked up to her full height. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Jathan leaning back in his chair and watching them through narrowed eyes. Ailsa felt a flush creep up her cheeks. Why was Grandmama suddenly treating her like a child? “I’ve never needed to be accompanied everywhere before.”

  “There was never a reason to worry about a direct attack on you before.”

  Ailsa snorted. “There isn’t now. The man from the stage was just a chance meeting.” A very unfortunate chance meeting.

  Grandmama waved her hand in the air. “That’s not what I mean. After my talk with the Master of the Institute yesterday, he and I agreed that there’s evidence that someone—likely King Ewart—has been interfering with the mails. He never received those letters you say your mother sent. The only motive we can think of for that is to suppress information about how mages are currently treated in Far Terra and which barons are the worst offenders. If that’s so, then there is now another source of that information here in Terranion—you. It’s possible that King Ewart might have agents here who would try to . . . silence you.”

  Ailsa swallowed hard. “He wouldn’t . . .” She trailed off, not really sure what King Ewart might not do.

  “The master and I judge it possible,” Grandmama said with a nod. “For now, at least, we both think it’s better if you don’t go about alone.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll go with her,” Jathan said. “As first years, we’ll have most of the same classes anyway. And it’s not very far out of my way to come here first and to bring her back. I doubt even King Ewart’s agents would want to attack me openly.”

  Grandmama smiled at him. “I think that’s a very good idea. Thank you Jathan.”

 

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