Blood and Shadow (The Mage's Gift Book 1)

by Robin Lythgoe

  “Stop!” he said, lacing his voice with every ounce of command he could summon. To his surprise, they sniffed at the chair legs, then moved to sit down at Sherakai’s side. Their keen attention remained on him. They were waiting to see if he would cooperate or not.

  He caught one earlobe and thought fondly of the cuffs he’d worn at home. He had to choose his battles. The insult and injury of two tiny holes was, in the scheme of things, easy to bear. He righted the chair and sat. “Make it quick,” he growled.

  A towel over his shoulders kept his tunic from being stained. A vigorous rubbing of his lobes followed by a sharp-smelling unguent did a fair job of numbing them. He still clutched the arms of the chair and clenched his teeth at the two quick stabs. Afterward, they pinched his lobes hard, then applied another salve. The redness faded faster than he thought it ought. The jewelry weighed as much as a horse. He feared the medallions would tear slowly through each ear. But the boys smiled their swift, fake smiles, patted him on the back, finished decorating him, then anointed him with perfume. Their scent of choice made him sneeze violently and often.

  One of them snapped his fingers frantically, brows scrunched in dramatic concern. After a whispered consultation, they did their best to wash the stink off. He was allowed to choose from an army of bottles before they applied a new coat of scent.

  Satisfied at last, they put soft white boots on his feet. The beautiful leather had been sewn with intricate swirls and leaf shapes. They matched his outfit. He felt like one of Kanya’s dolls or, worse, one of the animals dressed up to parade in festival. Too bad they didn’t have a mask for him to wear. It might have preserved a sliver of his dignity.

  To his surprise, Fesh and Teth remained behind. Instead, a foursome of soldiers escorted his wildly dangerous, five-and-a-half foot self to the gathering hall. Music drifted around him and delicate iron brackets held scented bowls of water to perfume the air. Servants—or slaves, he supposed—worked huge fans suspended from the ceiling. The circulation of air stirred the fragrances as well as the heat of the fire in the massive fireplace.

  Sherakai prayed that no one recognized him. Between the costume and the makeup, he might remain anonymous. Two of the guards remained at the great doors. The other two shepherded him toward Bairith where he held court amongst a handful of his peers.

  “Ah, my son,” the jansu greeted with unmistakable affection, holding out his hand.

  Sherakai wanted to melt into the tiny cracks between the marble tiles. The guests stepped back to make way for him and to sear him with their curious gazes. By clever arrangement, Bairith had gathered several key figures about him. By their colors and badges, he recognized three of the High Houses, four of the Lower Houses, and two men on the king’s council. Iwara was there, smiling genially.

  Taking the youth’s hand, Bairith pulled it into the crook of his arm companionably. “Sherakai dan Tameko, the youngest son of Lord Tameko dan Yasuma of House Tanoshi. He has graciously agreed to accept my tutelage, and I must confess that he is my star pupil.”

  Sherakai reconsidered melting in favor of evaporating entirely. He tensed, poised to pull away and refute the hideous declaration, but Bairith leaned close, his lips close to Sherakai’s ear.

  “Your sister is unable to join us here, but she is sitting on the balcony watching.”

  He glanced up to see her near the railing, two guards behind her and a swarthy, scar-faced man next to her. The latter had one hand on her shoulder and the other hidden from view. When Sherakai’s eyes met hers, Mimeru dragged two fingers across the base of her neck, then slid her eyes toward her companion. Any hope for her safety fled.

  “Smile, dear boy,” Bairith instructed, straightening.

  One of the king’s men was the first to speak. “Tanoshi’s boy? When I first saw him I took him for yours, Chiro.”

  The women smiled and nodded at the comparison. Sherakai bristled. “I look like my mother, actually.”

  They ignored him. “I was under the impression that he and his guards were attacked on the way to the capital,” another said. “And he had gone missing.”

  “He very nearly did,” Bairith assured them. “Only the gods could have known to put a troop of my men in the way to rescue young Sherakai from a band of cutthroats.”

  “Romuri? They’ll take any excuse to nibble at our borders. They’re growing bold with things so unsettled in the capital. You and Tanoshi have a challenge ahead of you.”

  In one bold stroke the jansu had removed any hope of allies, made Tameko look the fool, and put fear for his father in Sherakai’s heart. He fought to keep panic under control. “That’s not quite what happened.”

  The king’s man gave him a puzzled look. “I am pleased to find you safe and whole. Your father must be overjoyed.”

  “I saw Jansu Tanoshi just a week ago,” Lord Iwara put in. “He made no mention of your return. Quite the opposite in fact, and rather heatedly.”

  Bairith brushed imaginary lint from Sherakai’s sleeve. “As you can see, he is quite well.”

  "Excellent." Iwara rubbed his hands together. "Such good news! And now that Tanoshi won't be needing his tutor any more, I can take him into my own house."

  Someone murmured appreciation, but the others didn’t seem to care. And why should they? They had a story to dig out. One of the ladies leaned forward to touch Sherakai’s magnificent tunic. “Is there any word of your brothers? Have they been found?” Her genuine sympathy surprised him.

  “F-Fazare—” he began, but Bairith stepped in, smooth as fresh cream.

  “Fazare was the victim of a dreadful accident. All very sad, coming so soon as it did after Tasan’s death. The family is in mourning, as I’m sure you know. It’s been such a strain on them all.”

  The group murmured sympathetic noises and offered to help if there was anything they might do. Sherakai shook his head, stunned and bewildered. “There’s been a mistake,” he insisted.

  Bairith’s fingers on his elbow tightened to a painful, numbing pinch. “Sherakai has thrown himself into his exercises with an energy you can’t imagine. Distraction is one of the best remedies.”

  “Indeed, indeed,” the king’s man agreed. “And what’s become of the other son? There were four, weren’t there?”

  Bairith put his arm around Sherakai’s shoulders, steering him away. “How dreadful for this to come up during our gathering. Perhaps you would like to go sit with your sister for a little while? You are looking a little peaked.”

  A sense of insistence pressed him. He couldn’t say anything to expose Bairith’s lies without putting Mimeru in danger. He let the mage’s words move through him and nodded stiffly. “Yes. Thank you.”

  At a gesture, the guards stepped forward to escort him away. The lords and their ladies offered small, proper bows and empty words of sympathy. He could feel their eyes on his back as he moved away, but his head echoed with Bairith’s condemning words. Sly, cruel man…

  Chapter 55

  On the balcony, Mimeru turned her head a fraction to watch his approach. The scar-faced man nodded politely and remained where he stood. He kept his hand on Mimeru’s shoulder, which was ill-mannered and obvious. No one should touch her in such a familiar manner except her family and perhaps her closest friends.

  “Mimeru.” Stiffly proper, Sherakai bent to kiss her cheek. Someone brought a chair for him. He thought about heaving it at Bairith, but what impression would that make? That Jansu Tanoshi’s son had lost his grip on reality? He sat on the edge of the seat, only to stand abruptly, leaning both hands on the railing.

  “Sherakai?” his sister asked softly. “What is it? What has he done?”

  “Sir,” he addressed the scar-faced man, “You may leave us.”

  “Beggin’ pardon, but I’m stain rye here. H’slorship said I’m t’keep eyes on th’two’view.”

  Sherakai glanced over his shoulder as he tried to figure out what the man had said. Begging pardon, but I’m staying right here. His lordship said
I’m to keep eyes on the two of you. What an odd accent.

  “If you do not stand back,” he said, keeping his voice perfectly, fantastically polite, “I will throw myself over the railing.”

  Mimeru’s hand lifted as if to stop him. The man dug his fingers into her shoulder and she winced.

  “That’ll hurt, m’sure. You’ll probably break something,” he said, smashing his words together while he kept Sherakai’s sister in place.

  “My skull if I go over head first.” He turned a savage look on the lackey. “I am a good diver, I assure you.”

  Scar-face’s cheek twitched. After a moment, he backed away. The movement revealed a needle-like dagger in the hand that had been hidden. A flat, dull-colored paste masked the tip. Poison.

  “Further. My sister and I would like the space to breathe.”

  With an inclination of his head, Scar-face stepped back to join the other guards. Their presence ten feet away hardly allowed privacy, but Sherakai took the tiny victory. He gave them a taut smile. “I’ll stay here, in case you get any ideas about keeping us closer company.”

  “Stars, Kai,” Mimeru murmured. Pure astonishment glimmered in the air around her. “You had me convinced.”

  “Because I meant it.” His grip on the rail turned his knuckles white.

  “Did you? How would breaking your neck help us gain our freedom?”

  He stretched his jaw out and back, trying to relieve the tension for Mimeru’s sake. “I am going to kill him.”

  “No. No, you must not! Killing will change you.” The thought terrified her, bringing her up from her seat to stand beside him.

  “Lady Mimeru,” a guard behind them spoke. “I must ask you to stay seated.”

  She turned a frigid glare on the trio, but sank down again, one hand fisted tight in the other.

  “I am already changed.”

  “You are hurt, yes, but you have not yet committed murder. Don’t let him dictate your actions.”

  His lip curled. “He already does, doesn’t he? He uses magic to convince me to obey, to eat, to drink, to sleep. Better I act on my own will and stop him from twisting me further.”

  “Kai, please…” Tears pooled in her eyes. Her skin bore a translucent vulnerability. A tremble went through him.

  “You’ve always been such a beautiful boy,” she whispered. “Sweet and honest, brave, curious. Please don’t let him take that away from you. I need you to be Sherakai. Leave the killing to someone else, someone who knows what it is to kill.”

  He felt his determination weaken. “Someone like Papa?”

  She shrugged, then nodded. “Papa was in the war. He knows how to—He would never want you to assume that shadow, that burden, besh me. Neither would Tasan, Fazare, or Imitoru.”

  “Isn’t that what they taught me to do?”

  “They taught you how to defend yourself.” She had the good grace not to say You’re only a boy.

  “Too bad I wasn’t paying attention.” It fueled his anger. He turned it toward Bairith. “He’s made us look stupid, claiming that Zar died in a flamin’ accident and Toru is still missing. Missing! As if the scabby louse doesn't know where he is!” He clenched his hands into fists, impotent fury coursing through him. “I hate him!”

  Mimeru's hand on his arm urged him to silence, or at least temperance. “Hush, besh me. If you want to expose his lies you must return to Papa.”

  “And what if he kills you because I leave?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. Uncertainty crept across her distraught face. “I can’t go with you, Kai. I want to. With all my heart I want to, but I will slow you down and he will catch us both. You stand a good chance on your own, and it’s the only chance I have to live. Be angry with me for my selfishness if you like, but I want to live.”

  Appalled, he stared at her before turning to stare blindly at the crowd below. “If anything happens to you,” he began, then stopped and shook his head. Bairith carefully orchestrated all the ways a man could learn the meaning of helplessness. He rubbed his nose on his sleeve and to the Abyss with the costly garment.

  “I feel the same about you. I know this is hard, but I need you, Sherakai.”

  He nodded and rubbed his nose again. He refused to cry in front of the jansu’s guests. Their attention brushed over him again and again, tickling like strands of a spider’s web. “Are all these people here because of me?”

  “It would appear so. I wish I understood exactly what he was about. Did he say anything to them about what he plans for you?”

  “No, only that I’m his star pupil. I’m his only pupil,” he grumbled. “What an honor to be stellar in a class of one. Does he really think backwards compliments will encourage me to accept his offer?”

  “What offer?”

  “The kingdom. The entire, bleeding, flaming, drowning kingdom.”

  “Alshan?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Alshan and the other lands, too. All seven of them.”

  She did not respond, and he could not blame her. The offer of one country was stupendous enough, but to include all seven? Utter insanity.

  “Another company of soldiers left today,” he said. “To help keep the peace, he told me. Do you think he’s responsible for the king’s death?”

  Mimeru bent her head. His awareness of her attempt to gather herself struck him as odd. “I don’t know, Kai,” she whispered at last. “It is possible. Evidently he has an army.”

  “He doesn’t want Alshan or any of the Westlands.”

  “Well that is confusing. What does he want?”

  “He’s after something ‘more meaningful.’ Something about a restoration. He didn’t tell me any more than that.”

  “If not here, then where? And what?” she puzzled. “His family? A title? A political movement, maybe?”

  “I am not sure the details are important any more. He is mad. He must be stopped.”

  “Kai… The damage a man with his power can do is endless. What else has he done? Who else has he made suffer?”

  He pursed his lips. “As I said, he must be stopped.”

  Her voice lowered even further. “Do you have a plan to get away?”

  “Besides murder? No, do you?” When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “I want to try drugging the guards. I’m in the infirmary often enough, I can steal herbs. Which of them are most likely to knock them out?”

  “Thousandleaf, if you can get it,” she said decisively. “You can kill with thousandleaf. Mercywort might work, too.”

  “I’ll need to experiment.”

  “Or give them a whole vial.”

  “Won’t that kill them?” Turning his back to the crowd below, he leaned against the railing and folded his arms. “You suggested they might once have been human.”

  “I did,” she sighed. “Use your best judgement, but remember they are Bairith’s creatures through and through.”

  If he killed Bairith, would they be free? Did they want to be? When they frightened or angered him it was easy to want to hurt them, but could he kill them in cold blood? He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Whether they’re dead or unconscious, we still need a strategy. Do you know if any of the guests will be staying?”

  “I suppose some of them must. I will try to find out which and where they are quartered.”

  “Good. I think we can take advantage of them.” He gestured with his head. “Our guards are on edge. They keep inching closer.”

  Together they scowled at men who could not be intimidated by mere facial expressions. Sherakai flopped onto the ignored chair and put his feet up on the railing in defiance. “So, how do you like my hat?”

  Chapter 56

  The view from the glass tower was enchanting. The valley below Heaven’s Gate had only a few little settlements. Houses bunched together with lights shining in the windows. Pale plumes of smoke drifted from chimneys. The sky had cleared, revealing the stars in all their delicate glory. Sherakai leaned against the sill. Teth stood guard at the
doorway while Fesh had his front paws up on the sill next to Sherakai. He looked for all the world as if he, too, were enjoying the view.

  Instinctively, the youth rubbed the animal’s head. Fesh responded by pushing into Sherakai’s hand and closing his eyes. He loved the attention. Since the first time Sherakai dared to pet him, Fesh had made a point of snuggling close. Only when they were alone, but it was safer that way, he supposed. In Sherakai’s tower rooms he would flop on the floor next to the chair or the bed. Sometimes he snuck up onto the bed itself, though Sherakai grumbled and pushed him off. The beast would wait until he thought his human had fallen asleep, then slither up again so stealthily the mattress hardly gave beneath his weight.

  Teth remained stubbornly reserved. He didn’t mind if Sherakai scratched him, but he didn’t tolerate it for long, either. After a moment or two he’d walk away and pretend he had important guard details to tend to. It reminded Sherakai of Omakan from Tanoshi, one of the guards who’d hidden him in the storage room. His death and those of the others who’d ridden with Sherakai were a harsh blow made worse by Bairith’s utter disregard for their lives. They’d died for him. Chakkan was gone because of him.

  Angry, impotent, he beat his fist against the unforgiving stone. “He’ll pay. Somehow, I’ll make him pay.”

  Fesh mimicked him, then lifted sympathetic gray eyes.

  It astonished him that the beasts accepted him so readily, that they behaved as if they cared about who he was as much as what he was. Even more incredibly, he had accepted them as his companions. He had come to trust them to a certain extent, but that trust could only go so far. Heaving a sigh, he wriggled his fingers under Fesh’s chin, mere inches from the deadly fangs.

  Far below, torch light marked the departure of several of the guests. Their carriages strung out on the road like gleaming beads. He couldn’t hear anything, but he could imagine laughter and farewells. At least that’s the way it had been at home. Laughing and waving with Bairith didn’t seem likely, though he had proved a gracious host. He'd drifted here and there throughout the gathering, talking to this person and that. Mimeru had pointed out some of the people Sherakai didn’t recognize. The two of them speculated on the various relationships with the mage and came to the conclusion that they knew far too little of what passed in the outer world to make any proper guesses. On the balcony with their guards, they weren’t precisely invited to participate, but rested above the heads of the crowd like trophies.