The Sorcerer’s Guardian

by Antonia Aquilante

  He wound his way along the paths, the bricked one giving way to gravel, through the various smaller gardens within the whole of the palace garden. He’d been to many social events here—garden parties and games and others—but he hadn’t noticed the small wood in the back corner of the grounds. He hadn’t even noticed the magic that hid it, but he accepted that. Whoever had put the spell into place along with the protection spells had been powerful and skilled in ways Savarin had never seen before. The subtle, deft work both impressed Savarin and made him envious—and motivated. He would care for the spells and extend them if he could, and protect Tournai in the process. He couldn’t lie and pretend that the idea that his work might last as long wasn’t exhilarating, but it wasn’t his primary purpose, or even his secondary one.

  He entered the cool shade of the woods without seeing another person in the garden and followed the path, which looked more used than it had the first time he’d been shown the woods, but only marginally. That might change with him coming to study and check the spells and make improvements to it regularly, in addition to the royal family potentially using the woods as a safe place to use their Talents in the middle of a bustling city. But the spell hiding it would hold, and no one else would discover the secret, not if they were all careful about entering and leaving the woods without attracting attention.

  His curiosity about the royal family’s Talent, now that he knew of its existence, knew no bounds, but he didn’t know that they’d take kindly to it. They were intent on keeping it a secret for their own safety and that of Tournai, and he understood the decision to do so. He only wished that didn’t leave him with so little knowledge about a fascinating Talent. Master Corentin remained frustratingly close-mouthed about his own abilities, thwarting Savarin’s curiosity and his thirst for knowledge as well.

  The sun-dappled clearing in the center of the small wood looked as it had every other time he’d been there, but it felt different. Something in the air, in the ground, everywhere… hummed. Power, the power of the spells centered in this place. It had been absent the other times he’d been here. What he’d done with the protection spells must have changed something, to them or to him. Perhaps both. He was attuned to the magic protecting Tournai now, almost a part of it himself, or that was his theory. He saw no other reason for the difference.

  But he wouldn’t know until he checked on the spells, checked to see if he was right about the spells letting him in easily.

  He strode into the center of the clearing, to what had been the circle when he was here last. Standing there, he fought back a pang of panicked fear that stole his breath and made his stomach clench. He hadn’t been so afraid when he was here originally and there was far more at stake—the lives of the royals who were there with him, the existence of Tournai’s protections. He shouldn’t be afraid today. But for all his practice and work at coaxing his Talent out and into its fully functional state, he still wondered if he could handle the power harnessed in the protection spells.

  There was only one way to find out.

  He forced all of his emotions—fear, concern, anticipation—away, pushing them out with several deep breaths until calm and quiet were all that was left, and closed his eyes. The protection spells awaited him as soon as he did, and they let him in, just as he hoped they would. Easy, painless, in the space of one breath and the next. So different from the first time. The spells, the magic in them, didn’t just let him in, they welcomed him, opening to him and drawing him into their heart. And it was….

  Exhilarating. Thrilling.

  Those words weren’t even adequate to describe what being inside the spells was; he didn’t think he had those words. His own Talent rushed through him, and he sent it out to meet the magic that surrounded him. It met no resistance in traveling the pathways of the spells, not as it had the first time. He sped smoothly through the tangles of the original spells, checking their strength, checking that the additions he’d made were still well-integrated and working. And found that each and every one was, that the spells were still strong and humming with life.

  He could have left then, pulled his Talent back and dropped out of the weave of the spells, but he didn’t. He needed more knowledge of them. Even with all he’d researched, with all he’d seen and done, he’d only scratched the surface of these spells and what they might be able to do. The knowledge would be necessary if he was to do more with the protections surrounding Tournai. But he would be lying if he said it was the only reason he didn’t want to let go.

  The rush of magic, the complexity of the spells he was working with, made him feel as if he was flying. The rest of the world had dropped away, leaving the light and colors of the threads of the spells. They dazzled him. He would understand them all. Someday, if it became the focus of his life’s work, and it might well have to. He would understand these spells and leave them stronger, better, than when he started. But he also wanted to bask in the thrill of being surrounded by the magic. It had been so long. He had been so afraid.

  He would never be afraid again.

  His Talent was as it always had been. He hadn’t lost it. He wouldn’t ever.

  He wasn’t certain how long he stayed there, but it didn’t feel quite long enough. Then again, nothing would have been long enough. Nevertheless he pulled himself out of the spells. Little by little. Slowly. Letting each strand of the fabric of the spells drop away from him individually, in turn. He could have gotten himself free faster, but reluctance and caution had him disengaging at a slower pace.

  When he opened his eyes, the clearing was the same, sun-dappled and peaceful with no hint of what lay beneath to the casual observer. He knew, and he would return to study it further. For the moment, it was time to return home. He strolled back through the woods at a much slower pace than he’d made his way into them, allowing himself to throw off the effects of the magic a little at a time instead of making an abrupt transition, much better for him when he could manage it. By the time he stepped out of the woods into the sunshine, he was fully present and steady.

  And still, finding Lord Etan sitting on a stone bench along a garden path just outside the woods with a book in his hands drew Savarin up short.

  “Lord Etan, good morning,” he said with a bow.

  Lord Etan closed his book and stood, his movements unhurried and graceful. “Good afternoon, Savarin.”

  He stared at Lord Etan and then up at the sun. “Afternoon?”

  “Not by much. It’s only just past noon,” Lord Etan said even as Savarin realized it from the position of the sun. “I take it you didn’t expect to be so long today?”

  “No. No, I didn’t.” It hadn’t seemed like hours when he was inside the spells, but he should have learned by now not to trust his sense of time with these spells.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Thank you, my lord.” He wondered if someone had expected him to collapse again, or at least worried he might. Would someone have come in looking for him if he hadn’t emerged from the woods? Had someone checked on him already? He wouldn’t have known if someone had, if they were quiet and didn’t disturb him or enter the clearing. Lord Etan might have checked on him, perhaps more than once.

  Lord Etan gestured toward the path up to the palace, and they fell into step together, Lord Etan showing no reluctance to leave his shady bench and book.

  “Were you waiting for me, Lord Etan?”

  “Yes,” Lord Etan said without elaboration.

  He didn’t ask how Lord Etan knew he was even on palace grounds let alone working with the spells. Of course Lord Etan knew—the princes and Loriot surely knew as well, and perhaps others.

  “Would you like to know how it went?”

  “Well, you don’t look as if you found any major problems, so I can assume it went well. But yes, I do want to know how it went. The princes want to know as well, however. Join us for an early lunch?”

  “Of course, Lord Etan.” He couldn’t refuse and didn’t really want to, though h
e did spare a thought for Alain back at the house. But everyone there knew where to find Loriot, him, and Joceline. Alain would be fine. “I’d be happy to tell you and Their Highnesses everything over lunch.”

  “Good.”

  He and Lord Etan passed the walk through the gardens and into the palace in easy conversation but kept the topics light and away from what Savarin did in the woods by unspoken agreement. That they would discuss it with the princes and not before seemed to be the message they both understood implicitly.

  Lord Etan led him through palace corridors and up gleaming marble staircases. Savarin didn’t think he had ever been in this section of the palace. Not surprising. Tournai’s royal palace wasn’t the largest he’d seen on his travels, but nor was it small by any means. Lord Etan let them both into what turned out to be a small dining room, the rectangular table in the center set with seven places. A richly patterned carpet covered the polished wood floor beneath the table, and wine velvet curtains were drawn back from wide windows. He had only a glimpse of the room before focusing on its occupants. The princes were there, as well as Duke Cathal and Lord Flavian, but no one was seated at the table yet.

  As he bowed, Savarin wondered what they would have done if he hadn’t finished in time for lunch. He couldn’t see them waiting. Would they have sent someone into the woods to try to pull him out, or would they have eaten and met with him later?

  “Good afternoon, Savarin. I trust you’re well,” Prince Philip said. Prince Amory nodded to a maid who curtsied and slipped from the room.

  “I am. Thank you, Your Highness.”

  “Sit, please. Lunch will be served in a moment,” Prince Amory said, gesturing for the group to take their places at the table. Once they were seated, a servant circled the table refilling wineglasses, filling Savarin’s for the first time.

  The chair to Savarin’s right was left empty, but he didn’t have long to wonder who else was joining them. Loriot entered the room a few moments after they sat and took the empty chair as their food was brought in. Savarin could feel Loriot’s worried gaze even without looking at him, and rested a hand on Loriot’s thigh, hoping to reassure. As the servants made their way around the table with the food, Savarin glanced at Loriot and caught his eye.

  Loriot examined him with narrowed eyes but must have been satisfied of Savarin’s health because the worry cleared and was replaced by something stern. Savarin wanted to tease him, but this really wasn’t the place. He removed his hand from Loriot’s leg in time for a servant to place his food in front of him. No one at the table seemed to notice what passed between him and Loriot, for which he was grateful. While the princes were often demonstrative of their feelings for each other, Savarin and Loriot didn’t have the same luxury here.

  Conversation slowed as they all began to eat. Comments were made about the food and the wine, but Savarin knew that the reason they were there would not be delayed for long. And he was right. After a few minutes, Prince Philip asked, “What do you have to tell us, Savarin?”

  He set his wineglass down. Prince Philip was looking at him expectantly from his position at the head of the table, and everyone else turned their attention to Savarin as soon as Prince Philip spoke. But he never minded being the center of attention. “Your Highness, I spent this morning examining the alterations I made to the protection spells. I have nothing but good news to report to you. The spells remain strong, and the alterations have blended seamlessly into the existing spells.”

  “That is good to hear,” Duke Cathal said. “And you had no trouble with the spells this time.”

  He bristled at the implication that he’d had trouble with the protection spells at another time. “As I hoped, Your Grace, since I’ve worked with the spells previously in the presence of and with the aid of members of the royal family, the spells recognize me, and I was able to access them easily. I’ll be able to do so in the future as well, to maintain them and work with them further.”

  “You still believe you can extend and improve the spells?” Prince Philip asked.

  “I believe so, Your Highness, but it will take more extensive study and work,” Savarin said, transferring his attention to Prince Philip, though he could still sense everyone’s focus on him. “I have theories for how to make them protect us better. To let less through, to give us better warnings, to perhaps hold those who attack. Maybe more than that. I don’t know exactly what will be possible, but I want to find out.”

  “That sounds like quite an undertaking, Master Savarin,” Prince Amory said. “One that could take a long time.”

  “I have no doubt that it will, Your Highness,” he replied. “It could take years of study and spellwork to find out what might be possible and to implement it, but the protection spells have been strengthened, and they form a strong barrier against magic being directed against Tournai. We have time to see what else can be done and to put it into place.”

  “You seem eager to take on the project,” Prince Philip said, the remark seemingly offhand, but Savarin could hear the question in it. He’d always been honored and more than willing to take on work from the palace, but none of it had ever been on the scale of what he proposed today. He’d worked through a project or task and then gone on to the next thing, which was just as often his own quest for knowledge, often out of Tournai. Working on the protection spells could keep him tethered to Tournai for longer periods of time, cutting his travels down drastically. But Prince Philip didn’t know that Savarin had something else tying him to Tournai and Jumelle, something that made the prospect of less travel an appealing one. He purposely did not look to Loriot beside him.

  “I am, Your Highness. It’s an interesting, challenging project. I’ve thought so from the beginning, and I’m no less interested in it now that our initial goals have been achieved. I’m eager to continue.” He wondered if Prince Philip was about to tell him not to go any further with the protection spells, and he readied himself to argue. He wasn’t prepared to give up this project yet.

  “I told you he would be,” Lord Etan said, his quiet remark obviously directed at Prince Philip.

  Prince Philip nodded. “You’re right as always, Etan.”

  “Oh, don’t say that. You’ll make him impossible to live with,” Duke Cathal said, but his smile signaled to all that he was teasing. It was somewhat disconcerting. Duke Cathal had always been so serious, or at least he had been in front of Savarin. Perhaps he was different among family.

  Lord Etan shook his head while the princes and Lord Flavian laughed. Savarin glanced at Loriot. He was smiling slightly but lifted his wineglass for a sip when he noticed Savarin looking.

  “Getting back to the subject at hand,” Prince Philip said over the lingering chuckles, and Savarin pulled his attention from Loriot back to the prince. “Thank you for all you’ve done, Savarin. I know we’ll all be interested to see what else you find out as you continue your studies. Please keep Etan informed, and let him know if you have any questions that the palace library or our family archives might help you in answering.”

  Relief that he wouldn’t have to insist on being allowed to continue his work, or worse, attempt it without the princes’ knowledge or permission, was quick. As was the immediate rush of anticipation at the challenge before him. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  After lunch, Loriot walked with Savarin to the stables. They couldn’t—wouldn’t—be demonstrative with each other in the palace, no matter that the princes probably knew of their relationship. But they walked close together, their steps falling into synch.

  “You’re excited about your project,” Loriot said.

  “I am.” Best that they remained vague about exactly what the project was when not in private. They couldn’t ever let word of the protection spells spread. The protection spells, the royal family’s Talent, and how the two related was a secret Savarin and Loriot would keep for the rest of their lives. But Loriot, as captain of the royal guard, was likely privy to more secrets than Savarin could guess. One
more, especially of this type, wouldn’t weigh too heavily on Loriot’s shoulders, or on Savarin’s either. “It’s fascinating. I’m looking forward to learning more.”

  Loriot laughed. “You want to go straight to the library or your workroom. I can tell. You don’t let much show, but I know you well enough by now to tell.”

  “You do at that. Yes, I do want to go right to my books, but I’m going home first and checking on Alain.” The sound that escaped him was distressingly like a yelp when Loriot grabbed his arm and yanked him into an alcove. Before he could snap out a protest, Loriot’s lips were on his in a forceful, breath-stealing kiss. He’d hardly realized it was happening before Loriot ended it and stepped back, leaving Savarin trying not to sway on his feet. “What was that?”

  The words came out in a gasp, and Loriot grinned. “Thank you. For thinking of him.”

  “Of course I’m thinking of him. He’s your son.”

  “Nevertheless. Come on, before someone sees us and wonders why we’re lurking here.” Loriot grabbed his hand and tugged. Once Savarin began moving, Loriot squeezed his hand and let it go.

  “I think they could easily guess why we’re lurking in dark corners.” But he fell into step beside Loriot again without real protest.

  Loriot huffed out a laugh. “Let’s not give them reason to.”

  They made the rest of the walk to the stables in companionable silence. When they arrived, Loriot asked for both of their horses to be brought out.

  “Where are you off to? I thought you were on duty all day.”

  “I am,” Loriot said. “I have to go to the guard barracks and training yards to observe some new recruits. Or potential new recruits anyway.”