by Tia Reed
Chapter 11
FEW MAHKTASHAAN RESIDED in the Crystalite Mines, which made navigating the passages to the digging tunnels unseen an easy disappointment after the excitement in the library. When an apprentice could float his way down the shafts, the pulley systems did not need an operator, and when he could light his way with a speck of the sun, it didn’t matter that the miners had extinguished the crystal torches. So much for adventure. A sparring session held more challenge than this, although in a second of honesty Vinsant had to admit he had suffered enough thrills for one day.
At the rockface he had been chipping away on, Vinsant scratched his head. Tumbling the loose rocks away from all the plugged-up niches was taking longer than he had bargained on. For the third time, he paced three steps from the end wall, located the mark he had scratched into the floor, and attacked the rock. A glint caught his eye and he reached into a crack, deeper than he remembered. The two crystals he had hidden away were safe inside. The problem was how to get them undetected through the living quarters and into his chamber, where the only hiding place was under his mattress. He stuffed one of the stones down his churidar. His long robe covered it well, but a second was bound to leave an obvious bulge. Vinsant closed one eye and regarded his ball of light.
“Allumnos.” Another ball of light appeared. He threw the second crystal into it. It sailed right through and clattered to the ground. “Okay. Levitos.” The crystal drifted up but the light disappeared. Vinsant took a deep breath and tried again. On the fifth attempt the crystal remained nestled within the light. The better part of an hour must have passed before he mastered the trick of moving the light and crystal in unison.
“Awesome,” he congratulated himself as he strutted through the practice areas and into the living quarters.
“Apprentice,” Fenz’s voice called from behind.
Vinsant jerked to a halt. The ball of light bobbed. The man really did have abysmal timing. “All honour to you, Minekeeper?” he said. He was careful about turning, and kept one eye on his theft.
“Your lack of respect ill becomes one of your training. Were the majoria not so occupied, you would find yourself in shackles.”
Eyes flicking to his illicit light, Vinsant tried to decipher that comment. “Huh? Oh! What time? Scums! Er, sorry, Minekeeper Fenz.” He had clean forgotten the induction ceremony.
“Come with me.”
Vinsant eyed the brilliant blackness of Fenz’s clothes. They looked next to new. He brushed the dust of the mines off his kurta, picked a serpent wing off his sleeve, and flicked a fragment that looked like a piece of rotten tooth off his thigh. “Um, perhaps I should wash and change into a clean robe?”
“We expected it. However, it is far too late now.” The harsh, hooded stare brooked no argument. “Come along.”
He considered magicking himself a drenching and then heating himself dry. Since he had about a gnat on a scumhopper’s tongue chance of accomplishing those feats while hiding the crystal in the ball of light, there was nothing for it. Biting his lip, Vinsant stuck a finger into one of the holes the kaidon ooze had burned in his kurta, and tagged after Fenz. The light would have to follow him right through one of the spectacular white arches into the crimson-floored temple.
The mahktashaan were already gathered around the crystal statues of Mahktos, a perfect circle of black-robed, cloaked and hooded men. Levi, unmistakable by the tension in his body, was standing outside. Next to him, Apprentice Tokver, in fresh, royal blue churidar kurta, curled and uncurled his hands. The crystal he had mined was floating above his head. Every time he fidgeted, his boot crunched the cracked sumac berries which carpeted the floor. The sweet-sour smell made Vinsant’s stomach rumble.
“Your place is by the majoria, but you have not earned the right to enter the circle,” Fenz said. “You will remain outside when he enters with Tokver.”
“Yes, mahktashaan.” He placed his feet where the spice carpet was thinnest.
“You are privileged, Vinsant,” Levi said as he took his place. Fenz had already slipped into the circle. “Few apprentices witness an induction before their own.”
“Yes, Majoria,” Vinsant said, a dutiful apprentice if ever there was one. Now he was close he could see that although Tokver was straining forward, he was eager not nervous, and the sheen on his tanned skin was not perspiration but anticipation. The man appeared not the least bit worried Mahktos would reject him.
Levi held up his hand. Three crystals floated over. “Your crystals will go to Mahktos with Tokver’s. Pray they mitigate your disrespect.”
“Yes, Majoria.”
“Mahktos favours you. Never has a single apprentice mined so many in so little time.”
“Three is a brilliant number to present. The Vae and all.”
Vinsant twitched as his ball of light drifted over. Levi clicked his fingers and the light winked out, leaving the stolen crystal hovering above the others.
“Do you forget this?”
Vinsant bit his lip. “Er. No, Majoria. I wanted to give it to Mahktos myself.” He winced.
“Your conceit will be your undoing.”
Thank the Vae Levi had not noticed the untruth. Sorry Mahktos, he prayed. Please don’t hold this against me when it’s time for my induction ceremony. Since the statue didn’t open its eyes, he hoped he had got away with it. “All praise to Mahktos. All honour to you, Majoria.” He shook his head. All that backbreaking work, just to lose his hope of buying Kordahla’s freedom. If he was ever to mine enough crystals to bribe Shah Ordosteen into sending an army after Kordahla, he would have to tread with care. Darting a glance at Tokver, he mumbled good wishes. The arrogant pig plain ignored him.
“All praise to Mahktos,” Levi said.
“All praise to Mahktos,” the mahktashaan responded, and stamped their feet in perfect unison.
Vinsant tried to keep up with the stomping-punctuated chants. Was he ever grateful he stood outside the circle where no one could see how bad he botched it. By the time Levi led Tokver into the circle, he was sure his knee was never going to recover. As crystals glowed, light of different colours blended, bathing the room in pockets of violet, blue, green, orange, saffron, beige and more until the colours all blended into pure white. With perfect timing, the mahktashaan clamped a hand over their crystals. The chamber plunged into darkness. At the centre of each aspect of the statues a tiny spark ignited. It intensified until the statues were aglow, illuminating the entire chamber with the purest light. The mahktashaan crystals flared in unison.
“All praise to Mahktos,” the chorus droned.
“All praise to Mahktos,” Tokver responded. He took a step towards the statues.
“All praise to Mahktos,” the mahktashaan repeated.
“All praise to Mahktos,” Tokver replied and stepped again. It was kind of cool the way his quartz floated above his head.
Vinsant squirmed. The crystal inside his churidar was moving. He wriggled an arm out of his sleeve and pulled his churidar away from his waist. The crystal he had tucked inside had developed a mind of its own. It was pulling him over the crisp dried berries towards the circle and Levi. He squirmed until the crystal flew over the waistband. It strained against the front of his robe, determined to make an offering of itself. He pulled the front flap aside as, around him, the ritual continued. Tokver stood a single step from the image of the god. Levi hovered behind him. He sure hoped they were ignorant of his undignified pose. A final wiggle of his robe set the crystal free. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Great Mahktos, your mahktashaan present an apprentice,” Levi said. “Judge him as You see fit. Great Mahktos, do You accept this apprentice as Your mahktashaan?”
Tokver stepped between the legs of two statues, into the middle of the three. Vinsant held his breath. The crystals left Levi’s hand. Joined by the crystal that had just worked itself free of him, they flew into the gap Tokver had entered. A beam of light, brighter than that already in the room, sprung up from between the s
tatues. Vinsant gawped. Impossible that the movement within was the crystals, flying up and up so far the light did not even touch the roof. He should have believed they went to Mahktos. Now he would never get them back.
He tiptoed forward so he could peep between the two closest mahktashaan to see Tokver emerge. Mahktos’s eyes flared. The crimson beams passed above the mahktashaan. The chanting peaked. Vinsant thought his chest would burst. It wasn’t fair a pair of the statue’s eyes rolled down to regard him. They bathed him in the hot white light of the pupil and the crimson light of the eye around it. The chant faltered as the mahktashaan all turned towards him but Levi returned them to the praise in less than a beat, united and strong.
The light was still around him, the quartz burning on his chest when Tokver emerged from between the statues, hooded and robed, a lime crystal around his neck. In the silence before the mahktashaan turned to their newest member, Tokver tensed, and his crystal glowed a jealous green. He bowed his head and knelt before the majoria.
Levi was slow to turn, and the other mahktashaan with him.
A sword floated into Levi’s hand, a fine weapon, newly forged.
“Serve your god and master well, mahktashaan,” Levi said, setting the flat of the sword on Tokver’s shoulder. He placed his crystal beneath his new recruit’s hood. The black crystal, and the lime one, flared.
“All praise to Mahktos. All honour to you, Majoria,” Tokver replied. But his menacing hood turned Vinsant’s way even as he rose and took the sword from Levi.
As the mahktashaan crowded to congratulate Tokver, Vinsant wandered over. He wanted to ask Tokver what had happened in there, but a glimpse of Tokver’s narrowed eyes halted him. He moved away, because the mahktashaan all snuck looks his way even as they clasped Tokver’s hand. Under all that attention, sneaking to the mines was going to be impossible. What was Mahktos thinking to single him out like that? So much for His promise not to interfere. Vinsant took a deep breath, mumbled his congratulations and stomped from the temple. He was certain Tokver, at least, would not miss him. After a wash, he made enough of an appearance at the feast to devour two chicken legs, three spiced kebabs, a heap of pilaf, an almond cake, and a date pudding. He made sure Levi and Fenz saw him smile before he retreated to his room.
Throwing himself onto his bed, he opened the mind link.
It’s late, Vinsant, Arun said.
Apprentice Tokver had his induction. His mind was whirling so much he couldn’t decipher his feelings. It made his mind-voice vague.
Your time will come sooner than you think.
Arun didn’t know squat. Since he was small, Vinsant had dreamed of being one of these mysterious men. The magic was mind-blowing, the swordplay cool. But a full mahktashaan weighed by the responsibility and the respect Levi was determined to drum into him? He was not ready for that, even if he was progressing fast.
Can I talk to Kordahla?
She has had a trying day and retired for the night. Prince Mariano will not permit her disturbed.
Tell Mariano it’s me.
Would you have me go against your older brother’s wishes?
Piddlyrot. Did everyone blame him for helping her? You promised. Mariano could go soak himself in scum.
Dusk, Vinsant. It is the only chance I have.
Vinsant clutched the bedcover. I want to talk to him.
Prince Mariano will not be swayed.
Just wait till he was majoria. Mariano wouldn’t dare ignore his wishes then. Yes, well, tomorrow then, he growled and severed the link without a goodbye. Rolling over, he beat a fist into the pillow.
Chapter 12
VINSANT SNEEZED.
“By the time a mahktashaan collects you for magic training,” Fenz finished.
“Yes, mahktashaan,” Vinsant said, dragging the cloth along the dusty shelves of the library. The rows and rows of books would take hours to wipe. At least this punishment was not going to polish his bruises. After a draining morning of mining and swordplay, skipping lunch was the worst part.
He had been relieved to hear Levi had departed for Tarana before first light. Fenz tended to leniency in a way Levi never would. So when Fenz left, Vinsant could not resist twisting the pedestal to the side of the rug, wriggling a hand under the rug, cupping the lock of the trapdoor in his hand and working a spell of release. Nothing happened. Five attempts, concentrating with the dedication of a monk to the Vae, left him convinced stronger magic than he possessed now guarded that lock. He smoothed the wrinkles out of the rug, replaced the pedestal and statue and, with a sigh for the adventure that might have been, returned to his boring task. With dust motes sprinkling from under the cloth into the air, it seemed like a pointless exercise.
He was just starting on the second bookshelf when he heard footsteps in the anteroom. He turned. Tokver stood in the doorway to the library proper. His lime green crystal lay bright against his black robe. His hood was down, and his fair hair was combed to sickening perfection.
“Congratulations, mahktashaan.” Vinsant worked his hand without watching it.
The newest soldier-magician strutted into the library and made a show of inspecting Vinsant’s dusting.
“Is everything to your satisfaction?” Vinsant said, throwing the cloth on top of the books.
“You were late yesterday.”
“I was on time.”
Tokver tapped a book and slid a finger over the triangle of dust that its spine had hidden. “Your sloppiness will not impress Mahktos.”
With a click of his jaw, Vinsant grabbed the cloth, stomped over to Tokver, pushed his arm against a line of books so they slid deeper into the shelf, and ran the cloth over the surface.
“You think me arrogant,” Tokver said, with a raise of his eyebrow and not a speck of humility.
Vinsant crossed his arms. The cloth dangled, shaking tufts of dust to the floor. “I’m not the one who said it.”
“I’m not the one who steals the crystal-light at someone else’s induction.”
“It’s not as though I planned it.” Respecting Levi, Arun and Fenz was one thing; they had years and years of experience. But this domineering quasi-magician who had just yesterday been an apprentice too stuck up to even greet him was quite another.
Tokver grabbed his shoulder, forcing Vinsant to face him. “I’m told you are to be treated as just another apprentice, Vinsant deq Wilshem.”
Maybe so, but few could take the liberty of touching a prince. Vinsant grabbed the hand and flicked it off him. Pulling down his blue hood, he stared straight into Tokver’s green eyes. “Yes, mahktashaan. I am just another apprentice.” Tokver fleeting flinch was satisfying, but the man was a mahktashaan, sanctioned by Mahktos, and Vinsant didn’t need another reprimand to ruin his day. “If there is nothing else, Mahktashaan Tokver, Mahktashaan Fenz told me to finish this dusting before my magic instruction.”
“I won’t keep you from your well-earned punishment, apprentice.” Instead of leaving, Tokver reached inside the voluminous sleeves of his robe, drew out a clear crystal and set it on the dusted shelf. Vinsant gawked as he placed four more next to it. “Mahktos bids you keep the crystals you have found.”
“What did he say?” Vinsant asked, a little too quick. His hand hesitated over the crystals, the three he had turned over to Fenz, and the two he had tried to steal.
Without speaking, Tokver walked to the door, where he turned. “If another mahktashaan discovers those, I will deny I ever laid eyes on them.” The words dripped with spite, not warning.
Vinsant tucked the crystals into his robe. “Wait,” he called as Tokver went into the anteroom.
“Are you ordering me, apprentice?”
“No! Er, its just how am I going to get them out with a mahktashaan confiscating them?”
“That is not my problem.”
Long seconds passed while Vinsant tried to make sense of what had just happened. Because the mindless activity focused his mind, he picked up the cloth, pulled the ladder over and cont
inued with the dusting. Every shelf or so, he snuck a peek at the statue. This one remained solid marble.
“You’re watching me, I get it, but you said you wouldn’t interfere. Now I think you just have.” The prickly feeling on the back of his neck remained as he ran his fingers along the spines of the books. What he didn’t get was why Mahktos was insisting on keeping an eye on him. The god’s gaze was not preventing him from getting into mischief. He sighed. Perhaps Mahktos was hinting he ought to stop. Before it was too late.
Chapter 13
THE GENTLE SWEEP of wooded hills brushed them out of the gully as the sun crowned the western hills, three days after they had entered the Mykver Pass. That first, irrevocable step onto the Verdaani plains wounded Kordahla like the lash of a scathing tongue. Weak from hunger, exhausted from sleepless nights, she swooned under the faint odour of rot. Arun was there, catching her before she fell from the horse, steadying her, guiding her horse.
A stern kick of his mount brought Mariano to her side. The outdoor camps and rough living agreed with him. The sun had bronzed his skin and the ride toned his muscles. His gaze dropped to Arun’s hand, which yet gripped her elbow.
“Your Highness, the princess needs rest,” Arun said, withdrawing his support. He was the single man in whom she had not noticed a change, a mahktashaan trained to withstand hardship, to use it to advantage.
“I will forgive you your contact because the princess would have fallen, Minoria.” Mariano waved off a fly crawling across his forehead.
“You are gracious, Highness,” Arun said.
She looked away, to the east where, beyond the endless, rolling plains, the roiling waters in Djinns Rage Canyon barred her from home. Looked away because, even distressed, she could hear a touch of sarcasm had entered his voice. Looked away to see Lord Ahkdul staring at them as he fidgeted on his horse. She shuddered as he ran calculating eyes up and down her travel-stained body, expecting the twitch of a malicious smile, receiving instead a frown. She tugged her long sleeves past her wrists.