by Sharon Shinn
“And what of Coralinda Gisseltess?” Senneth demanded the night before they arrived in Carrebos. “She has been so quiet lately! Surely she is plotting something as well?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Darryn agreed. He ran a hand through his chestnut hair and allowed a frown to settle across his pleasant features. “My mother is convinced that Halchon and Rayson are only awaiting the coming of good weather before they launch an assault. Her spies tell her there has been increased activity at all the southern ports as Gisseltess and Fortunalt import supplies to support an army.”
“Makes sense,” Senneth said gloomily. “Does your mother feel prepared to defend her own borders?”
“As prepared as she can be. But I think she lives in constant worry.”
“As do we all.”
Kirra was tired of war talk. “So, Darryn! Why haven’t you abandoned us yet?” she asked. “I thought you would turn toward Rappen Manor at least a day ago.”
He gave her a casual smile. “I thought I would accompany you to Carrebos instead. I find it a most intriguing city.”
“You’ve been there?” Senneth asked.
“Many times.” He dropped his gaze. “She lives there. Sosinetta. The woman you have heard me speak of.”
“Your ladylove!” Kirra crooned. “Oh, Darryn, will you introduce us?”
“I’m afraid she might be overwhelmed. You’re very grand.”
Senneth glanced down at her travel-stained trousers and her long-sleeved shirt, rather the worse for wear. “I don’t think that’s an adjective that applies to me. And Kirra can look like an urchin, you know.”
“Even better. I’ll shift into a friendly little dog,” Kirra offered. “I’ll just frisk around and lick her hand and she won’t be at all intimidated.”
Darryn laughed. “I’ll think about it.”
“There’s no thinking about it,” Kirra said. “Now that we know she lives in Carrebos, we won’t rest until we’ve seen her! Why didn’t you tell us before?”
He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “For precisely that reason. I’m a fool.”
Senneth grinned at Kirra. “Now I’m even more excited about arriving tomorrow.”
THE weather was nasty as they pulled into the city around noon. Icy droplets were pelting in straight from the roiling sea, so they were not particularly focused on watching for young ladies who might run up to offer Darryn ecstatic greetings. They headed for the nearest inn, gratefully turned over their horses, and gathered in the taproom once they had changed to dry clothes. Kirra, Senneth, and Tayse slid into a booth; Donnal settled under the table at Kirra’s feet.
“Ser Darryn has disappeared,” Tayse observed.
“We’ll find him,” Kirra said. “Don’t worry about that.”
“What we need to find now is a mystic,” Senneth said.
In a town like Carrebos, that task proved simple to accomplish. Their server was a boy of about sixteen, gangly and thin, with unkempt black hair falling into his eyes. He had taken their orders so negligently that Senneth did not repose much faith in receiving the meal she’d requested, but when he returned she saw he had found a novel way of carrying several dinner platters at once. They were levitated in front of him, one stacked above the other, supported by nothing but air and willpower. Three glasses of beer hovered near his shoulder.
Senneth couldn’t look at Kirra, who was clearly on the verge of erupting into laughter. “Thank you,” she said gravely as the boy settled everything on the table without a single spill. “I have to suppose you possess a little magical skill.”
He nodded carelessly. “Makes the job easier, that’s for certain.”
“I know this is a city where many mystics live,” Senneth said. “How do I go about meeting all of them?”
Now his face turned closed and suspicious. So he’d been scarred by fear or malice a time or two, Senneth guessed. “Why would you want to do that?”
She held her hand out, palm up, and allowed fire to dance between her fingers, all the while keeping her eyes on his face. “No need to fear me,” she said quietly. “I am a mystic myself. I am on a mission for the king.”
The boy’s eyes darted from Senneth’s burning hand to the faces of her companions. “You’re all mystics?” he said.
“Not him. He’s a soldier,” Senneth said, because naming Tayse a Rider might create more distrust in this particular community. “The rest of us.” Donnal poked his black nose out from under the table and offered a short bark.
The serving boy seemed reassured. “I’ll ask Ward. He owns the place.” He gave her a quick grin. “He’s a reader, so if you’re lying, he’ll throw you out.”
The boy departed and Kirra said, “He’ll try to throw us out. No one’s ever managed that yet.”
“I don’t think he’ll even try, since we are who we say. Sweet gods, I’m hungry.”
They all dug in, happy to have a meal that hadn’t been prepared on the road. Senneth hadn’t quite cleaned her plate when they were approached by a rather large man—big bellied, round faced, and nearly bald. He wore a filthy apron over his clothes and carried a rather large butcher knife in one hand, so Senneth guessed he was both owner and chief cook—and defender of the premises.
He pulled out a chair, reversed it, laid his knife on the table, and introduced himself. “I’m Ward. What is a King’s Rider and a group of mystics doing at my inn?”
So much for anonymity. Kirra was giggling again, but Senneth actually liked having a reader in the mix. Everyone was forced to be honest. “Trying to raise an army,” she said. “And wondering if we might find a few sorcerous recruits in Carrebos.”
Ward scratched the back of his head. “Way I hear it, king’s already got an army.”
“Ordinary men,” Senneth said. Her gaze flicked to Tayse, who was smiling slightly. Very well, the Riders were hardly ordinary. “We hope to augment them with extraordinary ones. Shape-shifters. Readers. Healers. Those who can call fire. I fear we may have need of all their magical skills if we truly are drawn into war.”
“King hasn’t done much to protect mystics from people who hate them,” Ward said.
“Not true,” Tayse interposed. “He has made Ghosenhall a haven for them and fined the marlords who allow mystics to be persecuted on their lands. There is little the king can do to guard mystics who live in remote hamlets far from the royal city.”
Ward shrugged. “Maybe. But not everyone feels kindly toward the king.”
“Do you feel kindly toward Coralinda Gisseltess?” Kirra asked. “Because if war comes and the king is defeated, she will be free to spread her gospel of hatred across the realm. No mystic will be safe then, not even in enclaves like Carrebos.”
“We can defend ourselves,” Ward said. “Done it for months now. There was only one time the Pale Mother’s soldiers came here, and we defeated them all.”
“Which is exactly why I would wish some of you to join the king,” Senneth said. “To help us defeat enemies who want to strip magic from the land.”
Ward scratched the back of his head again. “I’ll mention it to a few people,” he said. He hauled himself up and pushed his way back toward the kitchen.
“Not sure we can count on him for unconditional support,” Kirra observed.
“We’ll make the rounds tomorrow morning. Drop by the other inns and restaurants,” Senneth said. “Word will get out. We’ll see if anyone’s interested.”
THE weather was better the following day, for which Senneth was grateful. She didn’t mind heat, didn’t mind cold, but she hated ice and snow. All was well with the world as long as there was sunshine.
Even in winter, Carrebos was a pretty little town, a crowded collection of mismatched but well-tended buildings mostly grouped along a few major streets. It was nestled right up against the sea, so the smells of salt and fish were very strong, and the view of the sparkling water added to the pleasures of the sunny day.
Senneth had decided that a smaller group
might have better success, so she and Kirra began to canvass the other eating establishments in Carrebos. Donnal conducted investigations in his own fashion, nosing around kitchens and street corners; Tayse said he wanted to patrol the town and get a sense of its size, makeup, and fortifications. He disliked being in unfamiliar territory and always welcomed a chance to study new terrain.
Senneth and Kirra were at their third stop when, most unexpectedly, they encountered someone they knew. They were sitting in a back booth at an inviting tavern where they were the only customers of the morning. Having already consumed two breakfasts, they’d decided they should just order tea and hope the proprietor didn’t grumble. Their waitress was a young woman with dark hair piled in a bun and an air of smooth competence.
“Good morning, I hope you’re well,” she greeted them—and then she flung out her arms so wide that the towel in her hand went flying.
“Senneth? Can it be you? Oh, and Kirra! I can’t believe it!”
Senneth stared, at first absolutely blank. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”
The young woman was almost dancing where she stood. “I’m Sosie! You probably never even looked at my face, you were so busy with Annie, but I’m the one—”
“Sosie!” Senneth exclaimed and jumped to her feet to give the girl a hug. “I never thought to see you again. And Annie is well? And the baby?” She glanced around. “Are they here?”
Kirra was on her feet, too, predictably delighted. “I remember you!” she said. “Your sister is the one who was having the mystic baby that night we were in your village. And no one would help her except us.”
Sosie nodded vigorously. “We left our father’s house three weeks later and went to Rappengrass. Then we heard about Carrebos and we thought it might be safer here.”
Senneth was drawing her down beside her in the booth. “Can you sit a moment? The place doesn’t look too busy. Can you talk? Tell us what’s happened to you and your sister.”
Sosie laughed. “We’re all doing quite well. Kinnon—that’s the baby, you know—he’s a year old now and so much trouble. Those first few weeks he would just fling stuff about! While we traveled, he sometimes could make trees shake and stones start tumbling. I can tell you, I thought we would never survive the trip. But Annie learned to control him, and now she and Ned are married, and, of course, Ned can keep Kinnon in check—”
“Who’s Ned?” Kirra asked.
“Oh! Kinnon’s father! He was in Carrebos when we arrived! Doing tricks with the acrobatic troupe, but he’s got a better job now.”
“And you?” Senneth asked. “You look well and happy. You like being here among all the mystics? It might be a little strange for someone with no power of her own.”
“It is strange sometimes,” she admitted. “Sometimes I wonder if the rest of them despise me a little because I don’t have any magic. But then I think how odd it must be for them when they live someplace where they’re the only ones who are different. And then I don’t mind so much.”
“And you’ve found a job. This seems like a nice place—do you like it?”
“Very much! I have a room off the kitchen. Annie and Ned have built their own house and I stay with them sometimes, but there’s more privacy here.”
“Why do you need privacy?” Kirra inquired. “Do you have a young man?”
Sosie blushed deeply, and smiled, and looked very pretty. She had been thin and anxious that dreadful night when Kinnon was brought roughly into the world, but she had filled out and gained a great deal of confidence since then, Senneth thought.
“Well—yes—at least—I don’t know how serious he is,” Sosie said. “But I see him when he’s in town and I miss him when he’s not, so—” She shrugged. “But tell me about the two of you! You have no idea how often I have thought of you and wished I could tell you how much it meant to us to have you there that night. You saved our lives and you gave us courage.” She tugged at a cord hidden under her gown and pulled out an amulet made of faded silk. “I wear this every day. It has helped me so many times.”
Senneth had no idea what it was. “What’s inside the bag?”
Sosie laughed and opened her eyes wide. “The piece of quartz that you enchanted for me! You told me it would give me strength.”
Senneth felt Kirra’s eyes on her. It had been—oh, not exactly a bit of trickery—more a wild hope that she could transfer a bit of her magic to an inanimate object and then hand it over to someone who might be able to draw on its reflected power. “I’m so glad I was able to give you that much help,” she said quietly. “Being able to save Annie and Kinnon meant more to me than I think I can explain to you. Magic had cost me so much at that point in my life. I needed to know that it could pay back in some appreciable measure as well.”
Sosie nodded. “I think the same thing sometimes. Magic almost cost Kinnon his life—almost cost Annie her life. It had better be worth the price.”
The door to the tavern opened and a lone man stepped inside. “Oh, no, looks like you’re going to have to wait on customers,” Kirra said. “Well, get him settled right away and then come back and talk to us.”
Sosie glanced over and her blush suddenly returned. “No, that’s Darryn. He’ll wait for me. I saw him last night.”
Senneth’s eyes flew to Kirra, whose face was alight with divine mischief. Obviously, they had solved the mystery of Darryn’s peasant lover. “Darryn? Darryn Rappengrass?” Senneth said faintly. The visitor had his back to them, for he had paused to say a word to a man who had stepped out from the kitchen.
Sosie’s face was even brighter. “Do you know him? He’s a great noble.”
“Why, yes, we’ve met ser Darryn a few times,” Kirra said in an affable voice. “You wouldn’t think it to look at us, but Senneth and I are fine nobles, too, and many’s the ball we’ve attended where we took a turn dancing a waltz with the serramar.”
Sosie looked uncertainly from one to the other. “Are you joking?” she asked.
“She’s not, but don’t be nervous,” Senneth said, laying her hand on Sosie’s arm. “We’re about as disreputable as nobles can be, and both of our families have practically disowned us.”
“And you know Darryn?” Sosie repeated, clearly trying to decide how alarmed she should be.
“Know him! We traveled with him here from Ghosenhall!” Kirra said. She was utterly gleeful; this was a situation that irresistibly appealed to her sense of devilry. “And while he had mentioned that he’d fallen in love with a girl, not until we were almost at the city limits did he tell us her name or the fact that she lived in Carrebos.”
“Though he didn’t call you Sosie,” Senneth said. “What was it? Something else.”
“Sosinetta? Sosabelle?” the girl said faintly. “He is always making up new names for me.”
“Well, I think you can believe that he truly loves you, if that’s something you were worried about,” Kirra said. “For he tried not to talk of you too often, but it was clear you were constantly on his mind—and, oh, perhaps this might convince you,” she said, as if just now struck by the thought. “He’s turned down a chance to wed Princess Amalie, who’s a pretty girl with lovely manners and a kingdom to inherit. But ser Darryn says he’s in love with you.”
Sosie gasped and then clapped her hands to her hot cheeks. “The princess! No! But he—I mean, he—I love him so much, but I know he—”
Kirra put her elbows on the table and leaned forward in a confiding manner. “Senneth and I rather like it when two people make an unequal match,” she said. “Our own romances have been so unconventional.”
Senneth patted Sosie on the shoulder. “Don’t let her tease you. We’re really quite pleased to see you again—and we really do know Darryn—and he really did tell us how much he loves you. There, that’s a present better than magic any day, isn’t it? Proof of love?”
“You should let him know we’re here,” Kirra said. “Just bring him right over.”
“I—I think I will,” S
osie said, and scrambled away from the table.
Kirra looked over at Senneth and laughed outright. “I think this must be the best trip we’ve ever had.”
Senneth was watching Sosie run up to Darryn, saw him kiss her quickly, listen intently, and then glance over at the booth in something like dismay. She waved, and Kirra blew him a kiss. “Well,” Senneth said, “today has certainly been fun.”
THE rest of the day was a little less fun but definitely more productive. The owner of the tavern where Sosie worked—a thin, fretful man named Eddie—was much more amenable to the notion of army recruiters than Ward had been, and he agreed to let Senneth and Kirra stay in his place all day, presenting their case to residents. His wife turned out to be a reader as well, and she sat beside them most of the day, giving them quick biographies of the mystics who approached them and her assessment of their reliability.
Before day’s end, Senneth guessed that they’d talked to thirty or forty mystics with a range of powers and varying degrees of amiability. A few she liked instantly and hoped to bring back to Ghosenhall right away. A few others seemed only mildly interested in her proposition but agreed to join up with the royal army if war really did sweep across Gillengaria.
One or two struck her as being too furtive or too damaged to be of much use, no matter how desperate the battle became. These were mystics who had been beaten or threatened or abused so often that they had little strength and no trust left in them, and their power, if any remained, was buried and hard to summon.
These were the mystics, in some sense, who most deserved to have a war fought in their defense.
Ward came by late in the day, sneering a little. He was accompanied by a boy who might have been twelve years old, slight and reedy and freckle-faced. He had badly combed hair, impish eyes, and an air of guileless excitement.