by Juliet Kemp
“I haven’t,” Jonas said.
“Jonas…”
“And I’m not going to.”
His mother folded her arms. “You’re not going to resolve it.”
“You don’t mean ‘resolve’. You mean get rid of.”
“And then what?” she said, ignoring him. “Find excuses to duck below with a headache every time one of them comes on? Risk being seen as your crew’s source of ill-luck if anyone finds out? You’ll never make captain that way.”
“You’re assuming that I want to make captain,” he said.
His mother looked baffled. “But since you were tiny, that’s been…”
He shut his eyes, and tried again. “Yes. Fine. I always wanted to be a ship-captain. Of course I did, growing up on board, with you. I still do. But, Mother. Not at the cost of, of hiding myself.” His voice shook, and he clenched his teeth.
“Of course not.” She sounded impatient. “That’s why you came to get rid of them.”
Jonas shook his head. “That’s just another form of hiding.” He went on before she could interrupt. “I don’t want to pretend part of me doesn’t exist. Why should I get rid of something that isn’t a problem for me just because it is for you. No one here, in Marek, cares, you know.”
“You’ve told people?” Her eyes widened with horror.
And that, there, was why he’d told hardly anyone.
“Not many,” he admitted, reluctantly. “But the people I have told… Mother, they’ve been interested. They haven’t treated me like I’ve got the blue plague. It’s just… something I can do.”
“Well, these Marekers and their magic.” She shrugged dismissively. “There’s no need to take their approach to it.”
“But I want to,” Jonas said. The point of no return was coming up. He had to keep going. He couldn’t stop now. “Mother, it’s not just the flickers. I. I can do magic. Mareker magic. I’m apprenticed to a sorcerer.”
His mother’s mouth opened, and shut again. Her face was pale.
“Magic?” she said, finally. Her voice cracked.
Too late to take it back. The only way was forward.
“My flickers are magic,” Jonas said. “A different sort from what they do here, but… I guess it’s part of the same, I don’t know, talent, or whatever.”
“And you want to… pursue this.”
Jonas swallowed, hard, against the lost look on her face. “Yes. I do. But I don’t want it to be that or the sea, Mama.” He reverted to the baby name. “I don’t see why it has to be. My flickers – they could be useful. Magic could be useful. To us. Don’t you see?”
“Mareker style magic is only useful in Marek.”
“True, but… it’s helping me get a better handle on my flickers,” Jonas said. “So they’re less disabling, less… It’s better. Mama, this is part of me. It’s something that – it feels right, to find out more about it. Maybe I’ll stay here for a bit, and then I’ll come back aboard and never use it again. But I want the chance.”
“You’ll come back aboard still having those… things?” He could see her torn, between wanting him back on the sea and her dislike for the flickers. It hurt, still, knowing how she thought of them; but it hurt a bit less, now he knew people who didn’t react that way.
“I don’t want to have to choose,” he said again. “I want to be able to use all of me.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, after a moment. “I know I said you have to get rid of it, but… You don’t have to. You can just not use it, aboard ship. If that’s better. If that means you’ll come away with us. Come back to the sea, Jonas.”
Jonas shook his head. He hated doing this, but he couldn’t go back. Not now. “I need to use it, Mother. At the least, I need to understand what it is, and how I can use it. Maybe after that I’ll decide not to, and maybe then I’ll come back. But for now, I need to stay here.”
There was silence in the cabin. Steam was rising from his mother’s coca cup, but she didn’t reach towards it.
“Is there anything I can say to dissuade you?” she asked, finally.
“No,” Jonas said. “I’m an adult now, remember? I need to make my own decisions, and not let you talk me out of things.”
She smiled, just a little, but it helped his heart. “That’s true enough. I shouldn’t complain, should I, if you’re finding your own path? I always swore that I wouldn’t do that to you.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Very well. I can’t say I’m happy about this, Jonas. But you’re right. You’re grown, and you have to make your own choices. I thought – well, I thought that getting rid of this, this thing of yours, was the right solution, and I can’t see how you can have it and still sail, but… well. I suppose I have to let you work this out.”
She sighed, and then opened her arms. “Come here, then, before you go.”
Jonas went to her, and they held onto one another for a bit.
Finally, she released him. “I love you, little fish. Remember that, yes?”
“Do you know when you’ll be back?” Jonas asked.
“Four, maybe five months,” she said. “We might have a side trip over in the Crescent, depends on… well, anyway.” She smiled at him. “I’d say, stay tonight for dinner, but…”
“I think it’ll be easier not to,” Jonas said, honestly. “I do miss the sea, you know. I just… I need to do this.”
Her lips pressed together, and he realised with a shock that she was trying not to cry.
“Mama. I’m happy, honestly. It’s hard, but… so it is on a ship, ne?”
She rubbed at her eyes. “I know. But at least you have your people, your family, here. In Marek…”
“I’ve got people in Marek, Mam. I’ve got Asa. I’ve got,” he swallowed, but she had to hear it, “other sorcerers. I’ve even got Kia, if I can make her promise not to report back without telling me.”
“I suppose you have, at that,” she said, then looked thoughtful. “Kia… You know, if you insist on staying in Marek…”
“Mother. Leave off.”
She looked at him, and sighed. “Sorry. Force of habit, thinking through the options. It’s not my life, is it? It’s yours. Well. Go safely, and I’ll hope for you to come back when you’re ready.”
“I’ll make sure I catch you whenever you’re here,” Jonas promised.
She caught him in another embrace, tightly, and he hugged her back. “Miss you, Mama.”
“I miss you too, little fish,” she said. “Go safely, now, you promise?”
“Sail well,” he said, “and may the winds be your friends.”
“Follow your heart, little fish,” his mother said, “and may the currents treat you well.”
It was all Jonas could do to leave the cabin, to shut the door and climb back up the ladder and go back over the side of the ship to dockside. Tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes. Half of him wanted, with a painful desire, to turn back; to sail away from Marek and leave all this, magic and flickers, behind. But ‘all this’ was part of him. He couldn’t leave himself behind, and it was foolish to think he could. Maybe, hopefully, once he’d figured out how to work with it, he could return to the sea, sometime. Eventually.
As he walked away from the docks, the feel of Marek enveloped him, and he took a long, slow, breath. This was the right decision.
TWENTY
“Perhaps,” Madeleine said, looking up from the notes she was jotting with a fine-nibbed dip pen, “it would be good for you to go to Teren for the autumn.”
Marcia looked at her in horror.
“Mother! What brought this on?”
They were supposed to be discussing their forthcoming trading commitments, the state of their connections with other Houses, with the Guilds, and with various captains, and identifying the spaces that needed to be filled. It had been in both of their appointment books for a month, a routine discussion for this time of year when the Salinas ships began to return. Marcia had been bracing hersel
f to discuss the matter of the Guilds; but she hadn’t expected this. They weren’t even past the easy part yet, dealing with goods already in the warehouses or being loaded onto ships.
“Selene made an excellent point,” Madeleine said. “In my youth, we had closer links to Teren. Perhaps it is time to renew those.”
Marcia sat back and eyed her sourly. “Selene has an agenda of her own. You know that. We discussed it, last week.”
“Everyone has their own agenda,” Madeleine said. “The question is whether it is helpful or otherwise to our own.”
“She wants what’s best for Teren, not what’s best for Marek,” Marcia said.
“Those two things can march in step.”
“But she’s antagonised the Guilds.”
“The Guilds,” Madeleine said, sounding a little scornful. “Yes, well. If the Guilds have become unreliable, perhaps it is time to look more to our other relationships.”
“Mother.” Marcia tried to control her exasperation. “Be reasonable. Are you seriously suggesting that Teren goods could replace the contribution of the Guilds to Marek’s success?”
“You sound like them,” Madeleine said.
“That’s because they’re right. Teren is one country. One small country whose only real link to the rest of the world is through Marek. Marek is successful because it trades with many countries, and cities –”
“Then we should strengthen our links elsewhere, too. I wholly agree.”
“And because of the extra value the Guilds provide,” Marcia forged on, ignoring the interruption. “Trading Teren wood and wool for Exurian berries and Crescent rice is all well and good, but the profit lies in what the Guilds can do with wood and wool and steel. And you know that, Mother.”
Madeleine’s mouth pursed, and she looked away.
“As a matter of fact,” Marcia hesitated, but she had to raise this, and there was no point in waiting for a better opportunity. Either she could talk Madeleine around to this or she couldn’t, and she might as well find it out now. “As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to you about supporting the Guilds.”
“Supporting them? You want to give them what they want?” Madeleine sat back and folded her arms, glaring at her daughter. “Marcia, we cannot allow ourselves to be held to ransom like this. We cannot give in.”
“The Guilds have the power,” Marcia said, bluntly.
“Nonsense.” Madeleine sounded at once shocked and disbelieving.
“We have power too,” Marcia said, trying to soften her initial words. “Of course we do. We have the connections – overseas, and with the captains. We have the power to put together the most lucrative cargo, taken as a whole.”
“We take on the risk,” Madeleine said, “whilst the Guilds rake in the money. From us.”
“We take the risk, and we make more than they do. That’s the whole point of the arrangement, isn’t it? Without their goods, we would have less to trade, and much less than is truly profitable. Without us, they would have a much harder time realising that potential profit. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement, do you see?”
Two months ago Madeleine had been happy to antagonise the Salinas. Now she was happy to antagonise another part of the trading web. Marcia was struggling to see what her mother was thinking. She seemed caught in the idea of the superiority of the Houses, convinced that their success was down to their own efforts, rather than part of a mutually beneficial system. Surely she hadn’t always been like this? House Fereno had an excellent reputation for making solid deals, for working smoothly with captains and Guilds alike. They had trading relationships going back decades. Why had Madeleine stopped seeing the importance of that, and how had Marcia not seen that it was happening?
“We can rebuild without them,” Madeleine said, brushing Marcia’s words away, but Marcia saw something change, just a little, in her eyes.
“We can, I suppose,” Marcia said. “Although I don’t much fancy competing with the Guilds for ship-space. It’s bad enough competing with other Houses. How can it make sense to make our lives more complicated?”
“To show them that they cannot dictate to us,” Madeleine said.
“I don’t want to treat this as a win-lose game,” Marcia said. “It’s not castles, Mother. It’s baracal.”
The goal in baracal was to maximise your joint score. Cato had always been better at it than her. If Cato hadn’t chosen magic, he would have made a better Heir than her. He’d be more able to talk Madeleine round; except that he would choose to needle her into losing her temper instead, because he would find it amusing.
Marcia was close to losing her own temper, but she wasn’t finding it amusing in the least.
“I will not be party to an arrangement that puts the Guilds over the Houses,” Madeleine said with finality. “Whatever the cost.”
With relief, Marcia recognised the opening.
“I wholly agree, Mother,” she said, with conviction.
“You do? Then what are we arguing about, Marcia?”
“We could put neither Houses nor Guilds in charge of the Council,” Marcia said. Madeleine frowned and opened her mouth. “Hear me out, Mother. I understand the Guilds’ concerns, especially in light of Selene’s comments. And I am of House Fereno, remember? One day I will be Fereno-Head, where you are now, responsible for the well-being and the honour of the House. I assure you, Mother, I do not take that lightly. And it is that future I wish to look to. A future in which the Houses and the Guilds and the sea-captains all prosper, together.” She took a deep breath. For a wonder, Madeleine didn’t interrupt. That slight frown was still there between her neatly-painted eyebrows, but she was listening. “I wish a solution that works for us and for the Guilds, rather than pushing us deeper into conflict.”
“And that solution is?” Madeleine asked, her voice ostentatiously neutral.
“Thirteen seats for us. Thirteen for the Guilds.”
“And a tie every time there is a problem,” Madeleine said. “Marcia, surely…”
“One might argue that if neither a single House nor a single Guildwarden can be convinced of the other’s position then perhaps there is a real problem,” Marcia said, then held up a hand. “But no. The Reader has no vote, at present. In the event of a tie, if it persists – give them the casting vote.”
Madeleine’s eyes narrowed. “The Reader… Yes. I can see how that might work.”
Her tone was reluctant, but at least she was engaging with the problem. She was, Marcia suspected, making the same calculation that the Guildwardens had – that the Reader belonged to the Houses. If she didn’t point out the problem – not that it was a problem from Madeleine’s point of view – then Marcia wasn’t going to either. Agreement in principle was what she wanted. Details could be… managed, later.
“So you would agree to that?” Marcia pressed.
Madeleine grimaced, just a little. “I can see the advantages, I suppose. And I take your point that it would be better to find a solution with the Guilds rather than to try to rebuild our trade in other ways, and squeeze the Guilds out again if they try to trade directly. But I mislike the idea of giving in to their, their threats. And you must see, Marcia, that I must support the Houses.”
“You supported including the Guilds ten years ago,” Marcia argued.
“Yes. Ten years ago. More reason for me not to be the one undercutting the Houses now. Can you not see that?”
Marcia’s heart sank; then an idea came to her. “So don’t support it.”
“Then what is the point of us discussing this?”
“Don’t support it,” Marcia said again. “Let me carry the vote. Let me support it. And then complain, afterwards, about ungrateful children.”
“No,” Madeleine said. “I will not make House Fereno appear divided. I am concerned with the Houses, but I am concerned most nearly with our own House. And so ought you to be.” She sighed, and was silent for a moment. “But – you will be Head, eventually. I cannot continue to enforce my
opinion over yours, every time. And your arguments, with regard to the Guilds… I see their force, even if I am distressed that it has come to this.”
“But it has,” Marcia said. “You can’t push the river back upstream. And the Guilds are determined. I do not believe that they will back down easily, and fighting them – it will weaken us all, Mother. Surely you see that.”
“You’ve spoken to them,” Madeleine said. It wasn’t a question, so Marcia didn’t answer.
After a moment, Marcia tried again. “We could lead on this, Mother. You say you wish to support the Houses. We can support the Houses by leading them out of this quagmire, back to profit for everyone. And House Fereno will be seen still to have the vision, and the wisdom, that we have shown before. The alternative is that all the Houses suffer, and in due course, I truly believe that we will be forced to give in. That will leave us far weaker than if we move now, if we take control of the situation. The other Houses may complain, but as Marek prospers further with closer relationships between Houses and Guilds, they will look back and be grateful to us for taking the lead.” She tried for a small smile. “Even if they never admit it openly.”
Madeleine smiled too, a tiny rueful twist of her lips, and Marcia’s hopes leapt. Madeleine looked down at her fingers, sighed, and looked back up at Marcia.
“If I agree – if – then I have a requirement, in exchange.”
“A requirement?” Marcia said, cautiously.
“You will be Head, in due course, Marcia. You are responsible for the future of the House.”
“Mother…”
“You need an heir,” Madeleine continued. “I do not insist that you do this thing immediately. I want you to consider it, fully, and to be prepared to discuss it with me.”
Marcia’s heart sank. She should have guessed that this was coming. Madeleine had brought it up before, but Marcia had always put her off before, and Madeleine hadn’t pushed.
“I assume you have some unsuitable lover,” Madeleine said. “To be honest, Marcia, I couldn’t give a rat’s arse about that.”
Marcia’s mouth fell open in shock; not so much at the sentiment but the language, coming from her well-spoken, impeccably-mannered mother.