Lightfoot

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Lightfoot Page 27

by Joe Kuster


  “No. Nothing that I can think of,” TJ said carefully.

  “Your kind have innate magic?” she asked.

  TJ mulled over his responses, then decided it was probable she had some sort of ability that would detect lies. “Yes, but only to a point. Our wings have passive magic to them. That gives all our children a magical spark. If it’s nurtured, we can learn to channel it into other talents. Bards were most common among my kind, but I believe we have the capacity for most of the common options.”

  She replied, “While I don’t know what type of mage you are, you are most certainly not something as simple as a bard. You caused quite the stir this morning. Most magicians know enough to barely scrape over the guild’s requirements. Doing so prevents their actual capacity from being judged. The move also ensures they don’t make themselves vulnerable to attack once their pool is depleted.

  “I assume that you didn’t know better and made everyone else look like idiots. However, a pool of that size has incredible potential. Enough that the guild is rather nervous about what a neophyte such as yourself could do with more powerful spells. I had a few inquiring if they should end you outright before you became too powerful. So, I must ask about the nature of your magic; was it inherited, developed, or… other?” she asked.

  TJ shifted uncomfortably as her penetrating gaze seemed to narrow. He had a feeling she already knew the answers to the questions she was asking.

  He replied, “I have a divine benefactor. I’m not allowed to discuss the details, but I’ve recently been given some talents. My most notable abilities are in healing, utility casting, and some offensive spells. If it is a concern, I’ve had others inspect my bonds to ensure I’m not tied to anyone that is considered a corrupt god in this realm.”

  She tapped a finger to her carefully painted lips. “No, I can see that for myself. I don’t know who they are, but they are considered a neutral power here. You are probably confused about why I would offer a newcomer control over one of my counties. Yes?”

  TJ nodded quickly. “I’ll confess it has me somewhat nervous, Duchess. While I’ve performed tasks that are notable in Larton, I feel I’ve done nothing to warrant the duties and honors you’ve bestowed upon me. I know little of the local ways, and I’ve never been to the city of Skyridge.”

  “Well, aside from some floating rocks and pointy hills, you aren’t missing much. The reason for doing this is rather simple. You aren’t the only one with contact with the divine. It seems your patron is making deals on your behalf. Deals that I’m told that I may benefit from. I can always remove you if you prove problematic, but my deity wants to know what you’ll do with this. You’re a riddle that we haven’t quite figured out, and I do enjoy solving puzzles,” she said calmly.

  TJ felt his blood run cold as he processed that she was linked to yet another divine. Serina had said that she would make some moves, so there was no telling where this was heading. He was beginning to suspect her time in isolation was causing her to play god a bit more than was healthy for his best interest.

  He sighed inwardly, not feeling up to the task of diplomatic negotiations between higher beings. He really wished he could just let Serina handle this. He could work a room with the best of his kind, but that was only when he was leaning into his flirtatious nature. Here, he sensed that approach wouldn’t work. Not only that, but the coldness in the Duchess’s gaze suggested that it would backfire magnificently.

  Something nagged at his mind, causing TJ to circle back to her prior statements.

  He asked, “If you have a godly patron, and they said to keep an eye on me, why the interest in my bloodline?”

  “Ah, excellent, so you aren’t a complete idiot,” she began. “The upper strata of the peerage are made up of notable families with magical talents. The king himself is the most potent human telepath ever recorded. However, humanity in this realm doesn’t have much intrinsic capacity for magic. The most powerful tend to be directly under the influence of a patron. As you can likely guess, this has created rifts in our society as the gods are prone to infighting. The peerage seeks to improve our bloodlines with unaffiliated magicians or those with minimal commitments to the divine. Children with innate magical capacity are a gift that we must keep and nurture.”

  TJ asked, “How, exactly, does that involve me? I wouldn’t exactly call my obligations minimal.”

  “Don’t think we haven’t noticed what you’ve done to your bride-to-be. She may be from a noble house, but her family had never had the slightest hint of magical ability before she waltzed in with you in tow. It doesn’t take much guesswork to figure out how that happened. It’s caused much excitement in an otherwise boring season and has provided a great deal of interesting speculation,” she said.

  She moved toward the refreshment table and plucked a glass of wine from a tray. “You were already going to pair with young Miss Blackstone. Making you a Count ensures you aren’t cast off the bottom rungs of society. If you like, view this as me moving her up in station now that she’s brimming with talents. If her father had that much power, I’d have elevated her family up to that station long ago. The nobility is much more interested in your progeny, to be candid. We’ve paid close attention to what happens when two individuals with a significant capacity mate. Their offspring can be even more powerful than their parents.”

  TJ couldn’t help but feel a cold shiver over his skin at that last part of her statement.

  TJ replied bluntly, “So, I’ve been deemed useful breeding stock and amusing to gossip about.”

  “From the mouths of babes.” The Duchess gave a tinkle of airy laughter. “My dear Count, you’ve struck at the very core of what nobility is.”

  “With all due respect, I find I must ask why, Duchess. Why would an increased affinity for magic matter to this degree?” TJ asked, trying to project a sense of calm while his mind raced in circles.

  “The bravery, loyalty, and tactics of the Blackstones, paired with magic? Possibly even flight? Yes, that would be the height of interest. Their age grouping and that of their offspring should fit our needs wonderfully. Besides, giving you a dying backwater county with no resources or economy to speak of means I don’t have to deal with the hassle. Last year’s taxes were barely worth the cost of collecting them. There aren’t even enough people, resources, or businesses to justify having baronies under you. Feel free to dismiss my regent if you like, or leave them running things. I’ll leave that to you. As I said, I’m eager to see what you’ll do.”

  TJ sensed multiple layers of traps in her words, but he wasn’t familiar enough with her society to figure out precisely what they were. Powerful children were one thing, but if she thought buying his good graces would get her boosted magic for other nobles, that’d be a problem.

  “Just so we’re clear, the bond between Rachel and me is a divine oath. I did it to save her life. I can’t just hand those out without something substantial in return,” he said.

  She gave a tinkle of laughter. “And you just confirmed that you were the one to do it, not your patron.” She clapped her hands to her chest. “I knew it. This is simply marvelous.”

  “I don’t get it,” TJ said flatly.

  She replied, “The hard part is garnering enough divine attention in the first place. The gods are busy. Far too busy to worry about every little request to bargain. Even slaughtering an entire village or building a dozen hospitals isn’t enough to get the eye of most deities. Although, somehow, your divine has seen fit to allow you to broker a divine covenant not just for your betrothed, but also her handmaiden.

  “Her attendant may be quite fetching, but the fact she carries such power so casually speaks volumes of intrigue. As I hear it, the young woman has every bit as much essence as Miss Blackstone, so I could bequeath her the title of Dame-Magus at a minimum. Of course, I suspect that’d be unnecessary. That’d only complicate things and given your… nature. I have no doubt she’ll be seeing to your needs soon enough, if she isn’t already. I’l
l elevate her at a later date, legitimizing any offspring she carries. That would work perfectly for my plans.”

  The ominous feeling only seemed to solidify as the woman casually sipped at her wine with a smirk glued to her lips.

  TJ cleared his throat. “You, uh, have plans for us specifically?”

  Setting down her glass, she tented her fingers and peered over them. “Ah, yes. You see, we’ve found that the spark, as you called it, often stays in the bloodline, long past the original obligations, and at a significantly increased affinity. You do all the work fulfilling your god’s needs, but your offspring reap the benefits of being born with magic or talents with none of the commitments.

  “As such, I’m going to take the advice I’ve been given and do something highly unusual. I’ve requested and received special dispensation from the King. You have an official blessing to move up as many wives or concubines as you’d like. I want to see House Lightfoot filled to the brim with lots of little ones we can weave into the pedigree. I’ll have feathers and wings seen as the height of fashion within a decade or two. I should be able to place them rather highly with the right moves. Perhaps even with the King himself. With that, I’ll have at least two generations of noble magicians the likes of which humanity has never seen.”

  TJ suppressed a cringe. Her words had just cemented his assumptions. If he were reading the situation correctly, Serina had used his future children as bargaining chips. It only took a quick glance inward for his magic to give a shrug and a nod. He grimaced internally. While he had no issues with the idea of having kids, having them sold off into the nobility to fuel a breeding experiment left a sour taste in his mouth.

  Likewise, the Duchess had him concerned. He didn’t think she was lying, but something felt off. She seemed as though she would be there to make the matches with his grandchildren herself.

  He chewed on his lip, working through the situation. With the thing she kept doing with her finger in the air, it was apparent she had some sort of talent. With that being the case, she might be immortal and grooming candidates for her own needs—a gardener cultivating the perfect pea plant.

  She was planning to dilute the human line with something compatible in hopes of gaining more magical capacity and in a way that would win her political favor. In fairness, it sounded like nobles were treated well in this realm, and if he were around to handle it, he could certainly keep the worst scenarios from playing out.

  Matchmaking sounded commonplace based on the books he’d read as well as Rachel’s statements. Perhaps that wasn’t the end of the world, but it had implications he couldn’t help but find horrendous. The duchess would likely try to manage pairings to keep them looking as human as possible while retaining as much magical affinity as possible.

  As he worked through her probable reasoning, a sinister thought crossed his mind. She might go so far as to put those with wings into a breeding program focused on battle, where their flight might give them an advantage. It was an incredibly creepy prospect to ponder when applied to his bloodline.

  Such a project would be the work of centuries and might be something a Deva would do in their spare time. Someone like him would never see the results as others shaped the future. He’d need some sort of assurances to make sure his progeny wasn’t enslaved into some army of hybrids at the king’s beck and call. Any paperwork would be worthless once TJ passed, so the only way that he could trust that agreements would be enforced would be if he were around to handle things.

  His magic flexed protectively at the idea, gliding across the trio’s bonds as if it were a horse salesman sliding a hand across the back of a glossy-coated mare. It seemed to promise him that keeping his loved ones ageless was just the beginning of what it could do.

  Working that angle in his head, his healing might ensure he and his partners were around to keep his descendants from ending up in a hopeless situation because of this agreement. He’d lived as a slave in the Meadow, and he wasn’t about to let something like that happen to his sons and daughters.

  A Breeze Dancer would typically outlive a human by twice their age, but he suspected his gifts would mean their group would be here for a very long time. Of course, if her words were any indication, the Duchess had similar abilities. Any misstep today would be one he might face for an exceedingly long time.

  He was beginning to feel like he was trapped in a room with a wolf. Perhaps not a hungry wolf, but a wolf, nonetheless. One that he would do best not to provoke.

  The idea made him look deeper into her cold brown eyes. They certainly looked older than her body suggested. As though she’d been in the world so long, it no longer held genuine interest or surprise. That her smirk at his situation was strictly an act. She’d kill him if it fit her needs, or raise him up, as the case might be. There was nothing personal there. There was no anger or compassion. Whatever she did would be dispassionately evaluated, then carried through with brutal efficiency.

  His only advantage was that she didn’t know he might be just as timeless as she was. Serina had probably already worked all of that out, or she wouldn’t have put him into this situation. With a few moments of introspection, he decided that the risk was manageable. He’d align with the Duchess for now, and if it looked like she was going to abuse the situation, they could always leave the kingdom, or if pushed, he’d be the one with a bunch of magically capable offspring with a chip on their shoulder.

  “I see. What are my immediate obligations? I have other tasks I must pursue in the name of my patron. If you are aware of the power exchange, then it may not be a surprise that I may not be spending much time in Skyridge for a time,” TJ asked.

  The Duchess waved a hand dismissively. “That waste of space has been without useful guidance for so long it practically runs itself. Govern directly if you wish, or leave my people to do it for you. I care not. I’m sure the King will cook up some sort of quest to prove your worth, but from me, all I ask is that you produce an heir as soon as practical. If you take more than a couple years, I’ll formally ask that you adopt in the interest of the line. However, I’ll be very cross if you make me do that; it defeats the purpose of moving you up.”

  TJ shifted uncomfortably at the idea of having to tell Rachel she was expected to pop out children. They hadn’t even had that conversation. In retrospect, that seemed like a critical oversight. It would also be impossible to stay home and raise a family while still building up his power to support Serina’s ends. Being an absentee father wasn’t high on his list of priorities. He suppressed a groan and tried to figure out how deep in the muck she was going to throw him.

  He asked, “So, I’m not headed off to war? There are no conflicts you wish me to involve myself in?”

  For the first time, she paused on his words. She kept a neutral expression as she seemed to ponder that question. After nearly a minute, she closed her eyes as though looking into her own magic for guidance.

  After a moment, she opened her eyes and gave a broad smile that set his teeth on edge. “I can make no promises for what the King may decide to do, but I have nothing pressing that the smattering of rabble you could muster would be helpful with. Your county has a difficult enough time dealing with the cursed beasts. Fielding an army would strip your populace bare. No, dear Count. I won’t ask you and Sir Blackstone to assist in the kingdom’s conflicts, at least for a time. Settle into your new estate, collect my taxes, have lots of babies, and find ways to amuse me.”

  There was a small knock at the door, and one of her aides strode in to whisper in her ear.

  Without giving even a hint of emotion, the Duchess nodded, then turned to TJ. “I’ve rather enjoyed our chat, Count. However, I find I’m needed elsewhere. Please accept my congratulations on your pending union.”

  TJ bowed. “Of course, Duchess.”

  “Oh… and one last thing. You may wish to keep an eye out for the New Order’s champion of Timarat. He’s in town and has been saying vile things about your betrothed and Sir Blackstone.
He also happens to have a number of his church’s elite guards with him,” she said.

  With that, the woman gave a wolfish smile, pivoted, and strode out of the room, leaving TJ alone with his internal musings.

  The loudest thought that he found repeating in his head was, “I’m so fucked.”

  Chapter 24

  TJ sat at the small wooden desk in the room they’d rented, rubbing at his bleary eyes.

  In front of him was his Book of Shadows. Despite the mysterious name, the black leather tome appeared mundane from any angle. The only unique part of it was that the pages wouldn’t open for anyone else. He didn’t know how Serina had done it, but he’d simply woken up with it beside him during their travels.

  At first, it had only had one spell. Now, there were several, but what had his attention were the words written in a familiar loopy hand inside the front cover. Not helping his mindset were the water stains on the ink that looked suspiciously like her still damp teardrops.

  TJ, I’m sorry things worked out the way they did. If it makes you feel any better, I know how you feel, or at least felt before the change. I know you loved me. I loved you too. I still do. I miss you so much that it hurts.

  I miss watching you while you sleep. I miss the way you’d curl your wings around me. I could go on about how life sucks or how things aren’t fair, but none of that matters now. I’ll do my best to do better for you than anyone else could. That’s my promise to you. If I can, I’ll let your family know you’re safe and do what I can to help them. Hang in there. The sun will rise tomorrow.

  With all my love,

  Serina

  P.S. Give Rachel and Abby a kiss for me.

  As gray thoughts roiled out of the murky darkness and enveloped his mind, TJ’s magic reared back as though it was going to stab him, but he mentally slapped it down.

 

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