The Sorcerer’s Guardian

by Antonia Aquilante

  Lord Etan didn’t complain about essentially being ordered about by Savarin, but he doubted that would last forever. He needed to make progress, to find a way to fix the protection spells before Lord Etan was pulled away to other obligations and Savarin lost his connection to the archives, or at least such an immediate connection. He had no doubt Lord Etan would search the archives for him, but he might not have the man’s help so constantly as time went by.

  Fortunately, once Savarin had the knowledge of the royal family’s Talent as an anchor for the spells, the rest fell into place fairly quickly, and he formulated a plan that would hypothetically work to strengthen the spells. He had some ideas for going further. It seemed the creators of the spells had plans to make them do more and make Tournai more secure, or thoughts about doing so. Savarin could find no records of work or attempts. But, at this point, those nebulous ideas weren’t as important as strengthening the protection spells back to their original levels.

  It helped greatly when Lord Etan found something that alluded to the spells being put into place on the palace grounds under cover of the woods. “Are there woods somewhere on the palace grounds?” he asked Lord Etan.

  “A small one at the far end of the garden.”

  “I’ve never noticed it.” He hadn’t explored every corner of the palace gardens, true, but he had been in the gardens at various court social events, and he would have thought he’d seen most of them. Or at least would have noticed a wooded area.

  “Most people don’t. The only people I know who have are members of my family. I’ve always wondered if there was some sort of spell that kept it from notice,” Lord Etan said. “It’s not very big, but it’s old and peaceful. I’ve used my Talent there often. It’s a good place to practice because no one goes there.”

  He latched on to Lord Etan’s theory as soon as he said it. If the protection spells had been set there and were still centered there in some way, then a spell to make the woods go unnoticed made sense. Or perhaps not a separate spell but one that was a part of the larger working of the protection spells. He focused on Lord Etan, who was looking at him quizzically. How long had he been quiet after Lord Etan stopped talking? Didn’t matter. “Show me.”

  As soon as they arrived at the small wooded area in the far reaches of the gardens, Savarin knew Lord Etan’s theories were correct. He could feel the hum of the protection spells here, just as he could at Tournai’s borders. Lord Etan led him into the woods and then walked at his side as he strolled the path into a clearing that felt like the center of the woods. It also felt like magic.

  “Give me a moment,” Savarin said. At Lord Etan’s nod, he reached for his Talent and searched out the protection spells. And there they were, the weave of them centered here. It had to be the place they were set, and perhaps the place he needed to be to access them fully. The strands of them seemed clearer too. Was it because he was more used to looking for them? Was it the location? Or perhaps his companion?

  The royal family’s Talent was the anchor for the spells. It could very well be the key as well. “Give me your hand,” Savarin said.

  “Excuse me?” Lord Etan’s shocked tone sounded distant while Savarin was still so immersed in his Talent and the spells.

  “I want to see if your Talent affects anything I’m doing.”

  “All right.” Lord Etan put his hand in Savarin’s. Immediately the strands of the spells became even clearer. The presence of Lord Etan and his Talent made a difference. And Savarin had much to think about.

  A few days later, the same group met in the princes’ study once more. The difference was this time Savarin had something to tell them. “I believe I know how to strengthen the protection spells.”

  “Tell us,” Prince Philip said.

  “While the records Lord Etan found don’t detail exactly how the spells were set, they did tell me enough to put the pieces together for our purposes. I believe the spells were put into place in the small wood on the palace grounds in cooperation between the sorcerers and the royal family. The spells are complex both in their layers of protection around Tournai and in the way they protect themselves from tampering. Without cooperation from the royal family, I, or any other sorcerer, would never be able to get into them. It’s rather ingenious.”

  “But you believe with our cooperation, you can work with the spells,” Duke Cathal said.

  “I do. The spells need to be reinforced, the spots that are weaker from attack especially, but the best way of doing that is to strengthen the whole weave of the spells.” He glanced from face to face, finding them all attentive. “Lord Etan told me that your Talents are strong, but that the Talent can be weaker in some or even skip generations. It may be that a longer stretch of weaker Talents might leave the spells more vulnerable to weakening, especially with no sorcerer keeping an eye on them.”

  “They’ve always said the Talent cycled. Stronger Talents appearing when they were needed to protect Tournai,” Lord Etan said quietly, as if he was musing to himself.

  Savarin nodded. “You said yourself that legends have a basis in truth. Your Talents, the strength of them, will help me bring the spells back up to their full strength.”

  “You’ll need us present when you work on the spells, then?” Prince Philip asked.

  “Yes, Your Highness. And anyone else who has the Talent and can take part. Unless you’re the only ones?”

  “Vrai has it, and one of our sisters,” Lord Etan said with a glance toward Duke Cathal.

  “Meriall is too young to be a part of this,” the duke said.

  “She may disagree.” Lord Etan’s smile was rueful.

  “Elodie has it as well. Hers isn’t very strong. Vrai’s and Meriall’s Talents are only slightly stronger than hers,” Prince Philip said cutting across the beginning of the disagreement. “Neither my father’s brother nor his sisters inherited it. We have other cousins from my aunts. None of them in the country. Aunt Edine is married to our ambassador to Teilo, and Aunt Alexane married a son of the Elleran royal family. I don’t know if any of their children inherited it. We could confirm with them, but it would take time, and I assume you want to proceed quickly.”

  Savarin accepted that, though it was frustrating. “Anyone else, Your Highness?”

  “No, no one.”

  “The Talent tends to stop showing up the farther someone gets from the direct royal line. First cousins of the current ruler, possibly. Their children, much less likely. I’ve always wondered if it was somehow trying to protect its own secrecy. Though that sounds mad,” Lord Etan said, elaborating on the prince’s statements.

  “Not completely mad, and very interesting. But that’s a discussion for another day.” Savarin cut himself off before he got too distracted. “For the spell to work, I need your help.”

  “Doing what?” Duke Cathal asked.

  “I need you there using your Talents while I work on the spells. It’s the only way the spells will let me in, and the only way to strengthen the spells again because they’re tied to your Talents. You won’t actually have to do anything except be there as… cats.”

  Prince Philip and his cousins nodded, the looks on their faces contemplative, but Prince Amory spoke. “Is it dangerous? Will they be in danger if they do this? Will you?”

  He spoke carefully. “With any working there is risk. This is something I’ve never attempted, so I can’t tell you with certainty that there’s no danger. But in my opinion, it isn’t a high risk. The spells are meant to protect Tournai and its royal family. I can’t see them hurting what they’re meant to protect. It’s going to be a complicated spell, and it’s going to take a long time. I think the highest risk will be that we all come out of it very tired, me especially.”

  Prince Amory watched him, as if trying to assess his truthfulness. He looked as if he might say something else, but Prince Philip took his hand, lacing their fingers together, and he subsided, at least for the moment.

  “You believe this is the only way?” Prince
Philip asked. “The only way to fix the protection spells? And you’ve told Etan that you might be able to do more with them.”

  “Possibly. The protection spells are a barrier to magical attack. It’s possible they might be modified to do more.”

  “More? In what way?”

  “Other types of attack perhaps. Keeping those who might harm Tournai out. It would take much more work, and I’d have to get into the spells and study them first.”

  Prince Philip nodded. “You’ve given us much to think about. We’ll discuss it and let you know.”

  But from the expression on all their faces, Savarin knew what their answer would be.

  Chapter 21

  “I DON’T like this.” The voice came from ahead of Loriot on the path through the woods. The woods he still couldn’t believe he hadn’t known were there until he was shown.

  “Flavian.” Duke Cathal’s voice held a certain amount of surprise and concern, and the accompanying sound of footsteps halted. Loriot stopped walking too and hesitated. Duke Cathal and Lord Flavian’s voices sounded close. They were likely just around a bend in the path, hidden from his view only by a screen of the large, old trees. He had to get by them to check if the prince and Lord Etan were on their way, but even from so few words, he didn’t think he should interrupt the duke and his husband.

  Meanwhile Duke Cathal was still speaking. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” Lord Flavian’s voice rode an edge of incredulous laughter. “We’re walking into the woods so a sorcerer can perform some spell that uses you and your Talent in some mysterious way. A spell that hasn’t been performed in hundreds of years, if ever, and could be dangerous for you.”

  “I know,” Duke Cathal said quietly.

  “Do you? Because I feel like we don’t know anything. We don’t know how this spell works or if it will even do what it’s supposed to, and we don’t know what it will do to you in the process.”

  “Savarin believes—”

  “Savarin ‘believes,’ that’s right. Savarin doesn’t know! He thinks you’ll all be safe, but he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that this won’t hurt you.”

  Loriot realized with a jolt that even as he’d planned to retreat back to the clearing for a few moments to let them finish their discussion in private, he’d actually crept closer, just enough so he could see them through the trees.

  “Flavian.” Duke Cathal’s voice was achingly gentle in a way Loriot had never thought his voice could be, and his face displayed the same gentleness.

  “This could hurt you. It might even kill you.”

  “It won’t.” Duke Cathal put a hand to Lord Flavian’s cheek, but he shook his head, dislodging it.

  “You don’t know that.” Raw pain drenched Lord Flavian’s words. “And I can’t have anything happen to you. I can’t lose you. Not now. Not when we have this life together.”

  Duke Cathal reached for Lord Flavian again, and this time Lord Flavian stepped into him with a small sound, burying his face in his husband’s shoulder and allowing himself to be folded into his arms even as his own wound around Duke Cathal in turn. “You’re not going to lose me. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

  His voice was low, and Lord Flavian’s response lower still, but Loriot heard. “I’m scared it will. Don’t do this.”

  “I have to. You know I do.”

  Flavian shook his head. “No. I know you’re devoted to Tournai. It’s your country and your duty and you love it. It’s my country too, but I’m selfish. You and our life together mean more to me than Tournai or anything else ever could.”

  “You and our life together mean everything to me. And that’s why I have to do this. To help keep us, all of us, safe. Please understand.” Duke Cathal closed his eyes as he begged even though Lord Flavian’s face was still tight against his chest.

  Moments passed and then a long sigh. “I do understand. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t do this.”

  Duke Cathal let out a sigh of his own. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Lord Flavian said, the words flung out whip-sharp, but he didn’t move from Cathal’s arms. “If something happens to you, I will never forgive you. I’ll never forgive Savarin either. Not as long as I live. After that too probably. And I’ll make you both miserable.”

  “I can’t have that, so I’ll have to be just fine.” If Loriot could hear the thread of suppressed amusement in Duke Cathal’s voice, Lord Flavian surely could, but he didn’t react to it, except, it seemed, to burrow closer, and Duke Cathal drew him in and pressed a soft kiss to Lord Flavian’s hair.

  Loriot turned away. He shouldn’t be watching this. Never mind that he was spying on a royal duke and his husband. What he witnessed was too private, too intimate. As quietly as he could, he backed away, putting distance between himself and the two men so absorbed in each other. Around another bend on the narrow path, he wondered what had even possessed him to watch them. He had no idea.

  But he’d watched nonetheless, and what he’d seen had surprised him. Duke Cathal was so self-contained, so serious in every dealing Loriot had had with him. Yes, the man could be charming at court, but none of that had led Loriot to imagine him so affectionate and soft with his husband. Or for Lord Flavian, the passionate, rather sharp-tongued artist, to be so emotional and heartfelt in his pleas. And for some reason, it seemed like something he needed to ponder, especially as he inexplicably kept thinking about Savarin today. Worrying for him.

  He heard movement on the path, footsteps in the leaves and twigs that littered it, and a moment later, he turned, resuming his walk back toward the garden. Duke Cathal and Lord Flavian came into view, walking arm in arm. Neither looked as if they’d just had the emotional discussion Loriot had witnessed. He wasn’t certain he would be able to pull off that level of nonchalance.

  Duke Cathal nodded at him. “Captain.”

  Well, at least it didn’t seem that they knew he’d been there, or he doubted he’d have gotten so benign a greeting. He stopped to bow. “Your Grace, my lord.”

  “Master Savarin is already in the clearing?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I’m on my way to check on His Highness and Lord Etan.”

  “They were going to follow us out, but it doesn’t hurt to check they’re on their way.” Duke Cathal and Lord Flavian continued on toward the clearing after receiving Loriot’s agreement. He watched as they disappeared into the trees and then for a few moments longer before shaking himself and getting on with his duties.

  AMORY WALKED along a garden path, Philip’s fingers twined through his. Julien toddled ahead of them. He’d insisted on going with them in his sweet way, and Amory hadn’t seen the harm in bringing him. Then he’d laughed when Julien had wriggled out of Philip’s arms to run through the garden himself. Their pace slowed accordingly, which would likely annoy Savarin, and possibly everyone else waiting for them, but Amory couldn’t find it in himself to hurry Julien along, and Philip made no move to either. Amory wondered if Philip sensed his mood, or if Philip was worried about the spell himself.

  Philip’s fingers tightened around his. “All right?”

  “Not really,” he admitted quietly. Julien wasn’t yet two and wouldn’t understand their conversation, but Amory still didn’t want him hearing one of his fathers upset. And he didn’t want the conversation carrying. Etan and Tristan were well ahead of them on the gravel path, the betrothed couple walking close together, and no one else was in sight. The gardens had been cleared of all people except those involved in the spell, and Loriot’s best guards were posted around the perimeter to keep everyone out, but Amory would be cautious anyway.

  “Talk to me.” Philip’s voice was equally as quiet, but it easily reached Amory’s ear over the peaceful sounds of birdsong and Julien’s laughter. Such normal, happy sounds, but they did little to soothe Amory’s anxiety. “You’re worried.”

  “Yes.” He tightened his own grip on Philip’s hand. “The spell could be dangerous, Pip. You could
be hurt.”

  He didn’t mention that Philip might be killed because he didn’t want to even think it, kept pushing the thought from his mind. He refused to imagine the possibility. “I don’t care how small Savarin said the risk is. It exists, and I….” Amory glanced away over the sunlit summer garden and swallowed the lump in his throat.

  “It has to be done, love. You know it does, for the safety of Tournai.”

  “Right now I don’t much care about the safety of Tournai. I care about your safety.” Guilt rose up in him even as he said it—because he did care about Tournai, the country he’d helped Philip rule since their marriage—but he didn’t take the words back either.

  “I know.” Philip tugged on his hand, pulling him to a stop. Amory glanced at Julien, but he’d stopped as well and was studying a brightly colored butterfly fluttering among the flowers. Philip’s fingers came to rest on Amory’s cheek, gently turning him to face Philip. “I know, and I know you’re scared. I’m nervous too, but we have to do this.”

  “I wish we didn’t,” he whispered. But he’d never ask Philip not to. He couldn’t.

  “Sometimes I feel the same, but we have to trust Savarin. We trusted him before.” Philip glanced to the side, and Amory followed his gaze to Julien, who seemed to be debating whether he should try catching the butterfly. Amory huffed out a laugh, but he knew what Philip was saying. They’d trusted Savarin to perform the spell that gave them Julien, a spell not without substantial risks to Amory himself.

  He sighed. “We did, but it doesn’t stop me from being afraid for you, for all of you.”

  “As I was terrified then. But I believe we’ll be all right this time too, and the spell will work, and Tournai will be safer for it.”

  He nodded. So much of their life was about the good of Tournai. At that moment he couldn’t help resenting it even though he knew they were lucky to have each other, to support each other, through it. He still hated to think of Philip alone with his burdens before Amory. Philip pulled him forward gently, and he went with no resistance, more than happy to be held by Philip and hold him in turn. To take reassurance from the contact, as he always did.