A Magic King

by Jade Lee

  He spun around. "Next, Oracle? Haven't you done enough for one evening?"

  She stepped back, still shocked, though no longer surprised by his open enmity. His fists were knotted at his sides, his jaw clenched as though fighting to restrain himself.

  Jane returned look for look, her own jaw tightening in the face of his belligerence. "What have I done wrong? He molested a child!"

  Daken bent down toward her, his eyes boring tiny holes like silent stingers into her heart. "We will speak of this later, Oracle." He spat out her title, showing her quite clearly what he thought of her actions. And then he left, cutting through the crowd like a knife through water.

  Left alone without Daken or the Elven Lord as buffer, Jane quickly became swamped with people eager to quiz her on what just happened, on her abilities in general, and exactly what she could do for them. They were everywhere, speaking in a language that quickly became nonsense to her. Pushing against the tide of bodies, she made her escape, only to end up sitting morosely on the floor of her empty apartment.

  At least someone had lit a fire for her. She stared into the dancing flames, her thoughts slipping away to another fire in Dr. Beavesly's memory. The one that turned her world to ashes.

  It was another two hours before he came to her. His face was set in taut lines of hostility, though Daken no longer seemed so close to violence. She didn't look up when he entered, never commented on the fact he hadn't knocked. She felt exhausted in mind and body, and she didn't know why. She'd done something good tonight, she told herself. She'd saved a boy from an abuser. And nothing, nothing Daken said to her would change that.

  She opened the hostilities with a sarcastic comment. "I suppose you've come to expound upon my many sins."

  He returned with his own sally. "How could you know? How? I thought we'd established your obsession with a servant boy is at a minimum awkward for you and harmful to the boy."

  She lifted her head, slowly rising from the floor as her anger heated up within her. "No, Daken. We didn't establish anything of the kind. All we learned was your political aims have blinded you to anything other than blood and violence. Steve isn't just a servant. He's a person, and he was being abused."

  "How can you know, Jane? I'm a healer, and even I couldn't feel it. There were no wounds, no injuries. I can see these things as clearly as I see you now."

  "Borit's a healer too. He would beat the boy, use him, then heal the damage. But that doesn't mean it didn't happen."

  Daken cut off an oath then began pacing around her room. "You cannot know."

  "I do know. The same way I know people's names, bits about their past." She briefly considered explaining about Dr. Beavesly's memories, but quickly discarded the notion as unnecessarily distracting. Besides, she hardly believed it herself. How could she expect him to? "Daken, can't you just accept I'm right?"

  "I have to accept it." He turned to her, his eyes haunted, dark circles barely illuminated by the firelight. "He has already been castrated and expelled. I have to believe you were right or accept we have just destroyed an innocent man."

  Jane stopped breathing as the invisible hand returned to squeeze against her chest. "What?"

  "You heard me. On your orders, he was castrated and expelled."

  "On my orders? What orders?" The fist tightened until she could barely breathe.

  "You said he must be punished. Then you said we had to make sure it never happened again."

  "So he was castrated and expelled?" Her sight slipped back to the fire as it slowly twisted in the grate. She was glad about the expulsion. And when she thought about it, she agreed with the castration even in a world where the population struggled against extinction, but she expected a trial, a lengthy and excruciating system of he-saids versus she-saids. But there wasn't anything like a trial. Just swift justice specifically interpreted from her unthinking words. "Just because I said so?"

  "What did you expect?" he said, his words hitting her like stones. "You're the Oracle. Are you saying now that you lied?"

  Jane shook her head. "No. Of course not." She twisted back to look at him, needing to see his face, to read his expression. "He has already been ca—," she swallowed.

  "Castrated."

  "And expelled? It's done? Finished?"

  "Done. Finished." His face was flat and emotionless, his eyes the solid blue of cold plasta chips.

  "This is wrong."

  Daken slammed his fist into the wall. "You did lie!"

  "No, I didn't! But I shouldn't have this much power. No one should. Think of the abuses."

  "I have been." His voice was grim, his face pinched, and his eyes dead.

  She swiveled her gaze back to the fire. It was so tempting to grab for this system of justice. She was a good person who had acted rightly this time. With her store of knowledge and morals, she could dispense justice with a swift, even hand. This could be her gift to the new world. Justice and, with it, peace.

  It was a tempting picture, but one she wasn't sure she could maintain. She was only human and history was littered with good people who eventually became corrupt. Ultimate power corrupts ultimately. Isn't that what they taught in school? How long before someone found her weak point? God knew she had enough of them. Someone could use it against her, bribe or extort his way into her government. Or worse yet, how long before she weakened to the temptations surrounding her? Maybe fall victim to the sycophants who would undoubtedly offer her everything she wanted—for a price.

  "This isn't right, Daken. I can't have this much power." She stood up, pushing her way past him.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To talk to Ginsen. I don't like my job description."

  She found the Elven Lord relaxing in a lounge-like area off one of the laboratories. Dr. Beavesly's memories told her Ginsen often retreated here to think. She knocked softly and was relieved when he bid her enter. He spoke in English, and Jane was happy to be able to express herself in her native tongue.

  "Ginsen, do you have a moment to talk?"

  "Of course, Jane. Please sit down. Would you like some sandine?"

  She waved the glass aside before she noticed that whatever sandine was, it looked and smelled very much like blackberry brandy. If she hadn't been so keyed up, she might have changed her mind.

  She drew up a chair opposite Ginsen and settled down, only to stand up again to pace. He watched her movements, his eyes dark, his face impassive. Then he spoke, as if to relieve her mind.

  "You'll be happy to know King Borit has been dealt with as you suggested."

  Jane stopped mid-step and whirled to face him. "That's just it, Ginsen. I didn't suggest anything. I mean, I didn't mean for you to," she paused, unsure why it was so hard to say the words. "To castrate and expel him."

  "You don't think it a fitting punishment?"

  "I think it was quite appropriate, it's just that..." She resumed her pacing only to stop and stare in the fire. "I'm uncomfortable with so much power. You did that on just my word."

  "You lied?"

  "Of course not, but I don't want the responsibility that someday I might be wrong and there's no one to question me."

  Ginsen stared at her. She saw him in her peripheral vision. First his eyes narrowed, then widened in shock. Suddenly he laughed, a big belly laugh that was no less hearty for his mellow voice. "Jane, Jane, Jane! Did you think we punished him on just your word?"

  Jane turned slowly, half insulted by his condescending tone, half relieved they hadn't just taken her word. "What did you do?"

  He smiled, gesturing her to her seat and pouring her a drink. "It is so hard. We don't know what you understand and what you don't."

  "Ginsen, I am not from around here and my expertise is more in history than contemporary politics. If you could please explain..." She gestured for him to do just that. Instead, he pressed the glass of sandine into her hand.

  "It isn't important for you to know specifics. Suffice it to say the other Council members and I—"


  "All four of you?"

  "Yes. The Council has its ways to determine the guilt or innocence of a man. Naturally we don't use it casually, and so Borit's perversions went unnoticed. But thanks to you, the man has been effectively dealt with."

  Jane was so relieved, she collapsed against the back of her chair. "You don't know how much you have eased my mind."

  "I am pleased to be of service."

  Jane settled more comfortably into the chair, idly sipping the sandine which did indeed taste like fine blackberry brandy. She and Ginsen remained in gentle silence for a few moments before she finally decided to get some of her more pressing questions out of the way.

  "Perhaps this is a good time to talk about my responsibilities," she began.

  "Responsibilities?" Far from being interested, Ginsen appeared to lounge more, tilting his head back as he stared at the stars out of the window.

  "Well, yes. I know I'll be a member of the Council and all..."

  "Yes, you will be expected to advise us on various matters. We will naturally turn to you for specifics on history and various other points of contention among our scholars."

  "Advise your scholars?"

  "Yes, of course. There are quite a few who are most anxious to speak with you. Tanift is most interested in an unexplained drop in the apparent population in Norkers to the west."

  "Population? You mean, a census?" Jane set down the sandine, a small tingling of suspicion growing within her. "Of course I would be happy to speak with the scholars about whatever they'd like, but I thought the Council ruled the land. In fact, don't the kings pay a fealty to you and in turn you provide a central government, free education, arms, and the like?"

  "We are a peaceful nation." His voice sounded harsh as he reprimanded her.

  "Of course, and as I've stated before, I fully support such a position. But was I wrong in believing the Council acted in such a manner?"

  He glanced over at her, his expression perplexed. "No. You were not wrong."

  "And as the Oracle, as the Keeper of the Knowledge, I am a member of the Council, correct?"

  "Certainly, you will attend the meetings, if you so desire, but I'm sure your scholarship duties will more than fill your time." He again shifted his attention to the stars, and with a final jolt of awareness, Jane recognized the tactic. After all, Dr. Beavesly had used it on her all the time.

  If Ginsen never looked directly at her, he didn't have to treat her seriously. And she'd come here thinking they had given her ultimate power! How naive could she have been?

  Jane leaned forward in her chair, but didn't get up. She wanted at least the appearance of equality, and standing would be reminiscent of a subordinate petitioning a superior.

  "Let me get this straight. I'm to be a member of the Council, but I won't really have to attend the meetings. I won't have a vote or part in any of the decisions, except in an advisory role, and even then only when you call on me. For this exacting task, I get a home, free meals—"

  "And a stipend of two hundred doleens a month." Ginsen turned back to her with a fatherly smile. "Does that ease your mind?"

  Jane felt her jaw go slack. The Council didn't intend to give her any power at all. If they had their way, she wouldn't even be allowed to come to the meetings. She didn't know if it was a sexist disregard of a woman or a simple disinclination to split the power with a fifth person. Why share rulership with a fifth when you can keep her busy with scholarship and paperwork?

  Fortunately for her, she'd learned how to deal with sexist, overbearing, self-important men early in her personal and professional life. If Ginsen or any of the other Council members expected her to just roll over and play dead, they were in for the shock of a lifetime.

  Jane pressed forward even more, pushing aside Ginsen's glass of sandine when it got in the way. "Let's get something straight right now, Elven Lord. As Keeper of the Knowledge, I hold a seat on the Council. A real seat. With voting privileges, a part in making decisions, and a say in what goes on in this little kingdom of yours. I won't accept any token two hundred doleens a month nor will I allow myself to be buried beneath academicians who have nothing better to do than count heads!"

  Ginsen stiffened along every line of his body. For a man descended from ivy, he became practically rigid with indignation, though his voice remained low and threatening. "Are you saying two hundred doleens is not enough?"

  "I'm saying I'm a modem woman who expects to be treated like an equal, not a plaything or an oddity for scholarship. You need my resources and my skills, so you better give me the power promised in the prophesy or I might just take my Regency CX-537, load it up on a donkey cart, and set up a shop of my own. Then we'll see who people come to for scholarship, information, and technology. We'll see who gets the fealty doleens. After all, Elven Lord, knowledge is power. And I've got the knowledge of centuries stored in my computer, and all under my direct control."

  With that she spun out of the room, too furious to give him a backward glance.

  Chapter 9

  Jane walked for a long time, her feet slapping out an endless angry beat. She didn't care where she went, just so long as it was away. Away from chauvinistic, condescending power mongers. Away from brutal, malevolent, child abusers. Away from judgmental almost lovers.

  She hated them all.

  She must have been walking for over an hour because when her fury abated enough for her to notice her surroundings, the moon had lifted high into the night sky. Looking around, she saw she was moving through a grassy area on the edge of a wood. Tuning in to the gentle cadence of the night sounds, she used their soothing peace to silence the last of her frustrations.

  The shadow materialized out of nowhere.

  One moment she was alone, the next, a black wraith appeared a few yards ahead. It was as if a piece of the darkness shrouding the trees broke away and waited for her, half in and half out of the woods.

  She would have screamed if she hadn't been frozen in shock. Then the shadow slipped closer, moving silently toward her. She gathered her strength to run when the vague form finally coalesced into the black panther.

  Jane managed to draw an unsteady breath. "We need to arrange some sort of signal," she said to the silent cat, "so I know it's you appearing out of the black mists instead of some rabid thing from the Black Lagoon."

  She stepped closer to the proud beast, wanting to bury her hands in the silken fur to reassure herself that the panther was indeed real. But as soon as she stepped forward, the cat slipped backward.

  "Hey! Don't leave yet. You know," she continued, hoping her voice would soothe the skittish beast. "We really have to find a name for you. That is, if you intend to hang around for a while." Jane took a step forward, keeping her movements slow as she approached the cat. "How about Kitty? Too boring?"

  The panther moved further into the woods.

  "Okay. What about Smoke? That fits your present state of semi-reality." She again approached, only to have the animal withdraw another step. "Maybe you prefer Shadow? Ink Stain? Zsa Zsa the Wonder Cat?"

  With each word Jane tried to move closer while the panther retreated then looked back, her black eyes glittering like shiny marbles. Finally, Jane stopped just short of the first few trees.

  "Come on, Pantar. Don't run from me." She used the Common name for the cat thinking it might respond better to that. No dice. The cat stayed where she was, her long, sleek tail twitching back and forth in impatience.

  "Look, I know you want me to follow you, but I hate the woods. I grew up on the flat plains of Illinois. Cornfields as far as the eye can see. Later, I moved to the big city, and I felt really crowded. But buildings have a sense to them, a regularity you don't get with these redwood type things." She waved at the huge, hulking trees that only seemed hulking because it was nighttime and very, very dark. "The bottom line is I'm not going into that woods. I'm not. So you better come to me."

  She said the words. She even meant them, but when the panther stared at her with th
ose mysterious, unblinking eyes, Jane felt like a petulant child who had just disappointed her mother.

  "Don't make me do this. I've had a really hard day."

  Jane crossed her arms, wondering if arguing with a black panther was a sign of insanity. The cat tilted her head as though she studied a strange new form of food.

  Jane cursed under her breath. "This world just gets weirder and weirder." Then she dropped her indignant pose and stepped to the first tree. "I've got no sense of direction, you know. If you lead me in there, you better bring me out again."

  Nothing. She might as well be talking to a black marble statue.

  "Oh, all right." Jane clenched her teeth against her fears and moved into the woods. At first the pace was a steady, measured walk, but as soon as the panther realized Jane followed, she increased her pace. Soon Jane was scrambling through the underbrush, zipping past huge trunks and wading through vines that would probably give her some dreaded disease.

  Then the panther disappeared. Jane had just struggled through some prickly ferns, cursing up a blue streak, only to realize she was alone. She quickly spun around, scanning everywhere, even above, but she saw nothing but foliage and shadow.

  "Damn! I knew I couldn't trust a cat. My mother loved cats, but I always thought they were arrogant, conniving, sneaky, litt..." Her tirade was cut off midword when her heart jumped into her throat.

  She'd seen something move, and it wasn't large enough to be the panther. Jane froze in her tracks, her mind spinning furiously through Dr. Beavesly's memories to find out what lurked in these woods. The answer wasn't helpful. Dr. Beavesly had never bothered to notice. After all, he was an inanimate form bonded to telephone wires. Slathering beasts couldn't hurt him.

  They could, of course, easily rip her to pieces.

  Belatedly remembering the dagger Daken had given her, Jane slipped it from its sheath. Then she stood, sweating, poised, waiting to be attacked.

  Nothing.

  Her muscles screamed with tension. Her head started to ache and her vision blurred from constantly scanning the shadows for another shadow of indistinct shape that could possibly eat her alive. It was ridiculous, and so she told herself a dozen times.