“Then why is there fear in your eyes?” asked Fox. Iness didn’t respond. “There is a magical presence here that scares you. And me. And anyone who is paying attention. Don’t you want to know what it is?”
It was with a shaky voice that Iness finally answered. “People ... disappear sometimes. After they go to work in the palace. Lord Gilvard has promised they’ll be experimenting with some magical artifact, completely kept secret. No details. They’re paid handsomely, and then they never come back. We’ve lost several teachers that way. It’s how we ended up with Lady Virrix in our class ... the open posts are almost always filled with Iron Order war mages.”
“How do they decide which people to take, do you know?” asked Fox.
“It’s all sorts,” said Iness. “It’s like ... they’re looking for the right person.”
“Someone who can control it, or understand it,” speculated Fox. “From what I’ve experienced, this magic is almost like a living thing. Something that learns and grows and watches ... it’s not natural.”
“Isn’t it?” asked Iness. “Something that grows and learns ... that’s the most natural thing.”
Fox dropped his fork, stunned at his own idiocy. “Iness,” he said carefully, “who was the last person taken? And when?”
“Well, just before you arrived they’d taken a war mage from the Iron Order itself. But then, a few weeks ago, it was ...” She rubbed her temples, trying to remember. “Oh! The gardener! Just before you started taking lessons, in fact. Actually, it was all quite a shock! No one knew why she’d been chosen, she was just sort of quiet and didn’t have much of a Blessing to speak of. She was just incredibly good at growing things, really. Fox? Fox, are you alright?”
Fox was staring at her, a broad smile spreading across his face. “It’s a Limbwalker.”
“I’m sorry?”
“A sort of plant that grows where I’m from,” said Fox. “In small doses, it’s sometimes planted around crops to keep them safe. And sometimes they’ll grow up around existing trees. They naturally repel any pests, but, if they get too strong, they can strangle the tree. And that’s what this magic is doing. It’s behaving like a parasitic plant, but with the proper gardener, it can be mastered and tamed, and used to a crop’s advantage.”
“So what,” said Iness, “you’re saying a plant is doing all this?”
“Think about it! Look at your whole city! Nature and manmade wrap around each other so perfectly here, it makes sense! It might not be an actual plant plant, but it’s definitely behaving like one. That’s why it killed the Archmage, when he tried to scry on it from afar. It must have thought he was a pest, trying to harm it! Or trying to harm the city.”
Fox’s mind was racing now, as he put everything together. “When I first arrived, this magical presence tried to strangle me. If there was a war mage controlling it, that makes sense. Farmers who let their Limbwalkers get out of control are often overrun with the things. But, that’s also why they would have had to replace the mage. They let themselves get overrun as well, and now there’s someone at the helm who actually knows about living things. They’re clever. They’re only using the power to observe, and not to attack.”
“I’m sorry,” said Iness, grabbing Fox by the arm to stop him babbling. “You said it killed someone? Someone you actually know about, not just a rumor?”
“I trust the man who told me about it with my life. But what do you care? I thought you agreed with Lord Gilvard’s plans.”
“I only said that when I thought he didn’t have the means to actually go through with it!” she hissed, wide-eyed now. “Everyone supports him, because we know he’s just talk! And we don’t want to get thrown in jail!”
“That’s no way to live,” said Fox sadly.
“It wasn’t always like this,” admitted Iness. “When I was younger, and the old Lord Gilvard was in charge, things were peaceful. His son was just an idiot boy, getting into fights and gambling away his allowance. We all knew his oldest daughter, Gwendolyn, would be in power one day, and we wouldn’t have to deal with him.”
“Why her? Wasn’t the current Gilvard next in line?”
“That’s not how it works here,” said Iness. “They were half siblings, and Gwendolyn and Wendy’s mother had more nobility to her name than his first wife. The girls are technically meant to be in charge before him, unless they get married off. Everyone assumed no one would want them, because we’re such an inconsequential city. No political power to speak of, and nothing to support any major alliance.”
“Until now,” said Fox with a sigh.
“When their father died, Lord Gilvard immediately began searching for men to marry his sisters off to, before they came of age to rule properly. Lucky for him, the Fernaphian prince wasn’t going to find a better match on his own.”
“That’s another matter, unfortunately,” said Fox. “Right now, I have strong reason to believe that this Limbwalker magic is the key to Gilvard’s power. If we can find it, and disrupt or destroy it? We may be able to save your city.”
“You might want to start with the gardener, then,” said Iness. “No one’s seen or heard from her since she was taken, but they also haven’t sought a replacement. Which must mean she’s still there.”
It only took three days for Fox to learn everything about the gardener, with Iness’s help. Her name was Fiona Evergreen, and by all accounts she was a kind-hearted woman. She had no family in town, but tended the university gardens as gently and carefully as though each plant were her own kin. It was she who was in charge of keeping the balance of plant and building in check, especially in places like the library where it overlapped. She helped shape the trees as they grew into functional furniture, and kept the herb gardens full and flourishing for the alchemy classes. Now that she was gone, it took three lesser apprentices to take her place, all of whom were still shocked their mistress had gone at all. They insisted that she never would have taken a financial bribe to abandon her post, and that something else must have convinced her to leave for the palace.
“It’s good and bad news,” said Bartrum, reading over Fox’s coded notes on his research. “Good that we’ve got some more specifics to help us in our search. The palace and the surrounding grounds are enormous, she could be anywhere. And going one door at a time was never a practical option. We’d be caught almost at once. However,” he said, tucking the notes away and meeting Fox’s eye, “narrowing down our search to places that might house a plant, or plant-based magic, is only slightly more manageable. There are fewer places to look, but they’re also harder to get to. Cellars, or private royal greenhouses, are much more difficult for someone to simply stumble upon.”
“Sounds like you’d need a map,” said Fox casually.
“They’re called Architect’s Plans, when they’re indoors,” said Bartrum. “Is that even something you’re capable of? It’s quite different than your normal brand of cartomancy.”
“More can be mapped than just land,” said Fox. He’d been thinking about it quite often recently, wondering if he could do it. “I think if the wind can get inside, I can see it. Not like the Beneath or anywhere in the mines. There, I’m blind. But this might just be manageable.”
“Get me a map,” said Bartrum. “Of everywhere you can, without being caught. Let’s find this girl, and whatever she’s controlling.” Fox started to leave, but Bartrum cleared his throat and held him back. “You mentioned this girl, Iness, who’s been helping you.”
“She’s a friend of mine from class,” said Fox.
“And you told her about the Archmage?”
Fox’s heart sank. He had slipped up in his excitement, and mentioned a secret that Iness should not have been allowed to know. His silence seemed to be all the answer Bartrum needed, and the spymaster sighed. He rummaged in his desk for a moment, before pulling out a small vial of black liquid. “Everyone makes mistakes when they’re first learning,” he said. “They can’t always be fixed the easy way. This girl, no
matter how much you trust her, is not trained. She may have already told people.”
“What is that, poison?” asked Fox, his stomach threatening to rebel.
“You don’t have to kill her,” said Bartrum quickly. “Just get this into her drink. It won’t be pretty, she’ll get violently ill. But, when she wakes up, she won’t remember anything for the past week.” When Fox still looked unsure, Bartrum said quietly, “It’s better than the alternative. I promise.”
Fox obliged the next day, and made sure Iness made it to the University hospice building once her illness started to take hold. Then, forcing his mind to bigger things, he set about mapping the inside of the palace, trying to ignore the hard fact that he had just poisoned a friend who trusted him.
Chapter Sixteen
The Feast
There was a bridge near the top of the city, looking down upon the stacked buildings and city streets, where Neil would often wait to meet Gully. The bridge crossed the gap between the attic of an old bakery, and the top level of a small arboretum, full of exotic trees. Like many other places in Calibas, the line here between crafted building and overgrown plant was blurry at best. The bridge itself was sturdy, made of stone and wood that barely even creaked when you walked on it, but the atrium side was draped in vines and half obscured with hanging flowers and moss.
It was almost always deserted, making it the perfect spot for a secret rendevous between forbidden lovers. Neil would make his way up in the morning with a book and a hot breakfast loaf, and wait for Gully. He sometimes had to wait for hours before she arrived, and occasionally she could not slip away at all. Lately, it had been particularly difficult for her to escape the watchful eyes of her brother and Vol Tyrr.
When she did arrive, they clung to every moment they could spend together. Sometimes, they talked of books, or quietly read in each others’ company. Other times, when they felt particularly daring, they would descend into the city and attend parties, go to gambling houses, or eat in Undercity taverns, dancing and singing along with the crowds until Gully had to disappear again, back to the palace. And then, sometimes, their passions would get the better of them altogether, and the couple would spend every moment of their time wrapped in each other’s bodies, with no time for talk, as their mouths were otherwise occupied.
These moments were becoming more and more frequent, as the two found less and less time to meet. And, as the months passed, they had become much more reckless. Twice, strangers had stumbled upon them as they hastily adjusted their hair and clothes, and once Gully had almost been caught sneaking back into the palace without her corset on at all. But today, Neil was determined to behave. Vol Tyrr had been particularly protective of Gully the last few nights, so much so that Neil had begun to wonder if he knew. The fear of being discovered, and stopped from seeing each other altogether, haunted Neil. They needed to be far more careful, and he knew it.
Neil was prepared, today, to keep Gully at arms’ length as they toured the arboretum together. He promised himself that he’d only kiss her goodbye, nothing more. He buried himself in the book she’d leant him as he waited, trying not to dwell on how much he wanted to gather her into his arms the moment she arrived on the bridge. But, as the afternoon wore on, there was no sign of her. Evening began to darken the city without any hint of her scarlet curls, and Neil resigned himself to the fact that she hadn’t been able to get away. He would have no choice but to look on her from afar at dinner.
But there, too, Neil was disappointed. Gully was missing from the grand hall, her chair between Lord Gilvard and Vol Tyrr conspicuously empty. Getting anxious now, Neil skipped his nightly sparring with Fox, and instead visited the other secret spot he and Gully shared, deep in the heart of the hedge maze in one of the palace courtyards. He waited by their favorite fountain for over an hour after dinner, but she never appeared. He checked the library, just in case, but all of Gully’s regular hidden alcoves and study corners were abandoned.
In a last-ditch effort to track her down before he grew truly panicked, Neil hurried back to the palace, and began asking the staff if they knew anything about the lady of the house. Was she perhaps in poor health? Had she been injured? With each person he asked, Neil became more and more concerned. Every servant seemed to grow nervous when he asked, and found themselves suddenly busy with other things. By the end of the night, however, Neil had pieced it together from a dozen different rumors. Gwendolyn Gilvard was under house arrest.
∞∞∞
“It’s all my fault,” Neil said breathlessly, ducking as Fox took another swing at him. It was the next evening, and the two had resumed their regular training session, despite the cold. Neil turned and swung out with a flawless kick, catching Fox at the knee and bringing him crashing to the ground. “They said she was being accused of indiscretions, and that her brother is blaming her for risking his precious alliance.”
Neil aimed another kick at Fox, but the boy rolled out of the way too quickly and leapt to his own feet again, poised and ready. As the two squared off against each other in the training yard, Fox said, “Do you think they know it was you?”
“Does it matter?” asked Neil, lunging for Fox and catching him around the waist. As the two grappled furiously, he continued, “All I know is, she’s not being allowed out, and it’s because we were reckless. I was reckless.” For a heartbeat, Neil’s focus faltered, and it gave Fox the opening he needed. Within an instant, Fox had twisted free and trapped Neil’s arm behind his back. The match was over in a matter of seconds, and both boys sat, panting, on the grass.
“She had a choice,” said Fox. “She always had a choice, and she chose you.” He grabbed his waterskin and took a huge swig, half of it running down his chin. “Nothing here is your fault, I promise.” He held out the water, offering it to Neil, who took it gratefully and drank deep, willing his heartbeat to slow and his mind to clear.
Finally, calm settling back over him, Neil said, “What if I’ve put her in danger?”
“If Lord Gilvard is so worried about his alliance,” said Fox, “I doubt any harm will come to her. He needs her.”
“Does he?” countered Neil, laying back on the grass and staring up at the darkening, overcast sky. “By all accounts, the man is unstable. What if he decides he doesn’t need her to make the alliance go through?” His own childhood came roaring back to him, bringing with it memories of the civil war and Maradwell politics. “They could use a decoy, for appearance’s sake. Once she’s gone to Fernaphia —”
Fox cut him off. “This isn’t like what happened to you. Vol Tyrr doesn’t just want anybody, he wants Gully. His lust and desire to control her may be disgusting, but they may also keep her safe. For now.”
At Fox’s words, pure rage began to bubble up and boil inside Neil again. “The need for control can be dangerous,” he murmured.
“It is,” agreed Fox simply. “And he is. But I’ve sensed his emotions, remember? At the moment, he wishes her no harm. I promise.”
Neil propped himself up on his elbow, looking his friend square in the face. “That was months ago. What about now?”
“I haven’t —”
“Fox,” said Neil eagerly, now sitting up completely, “you can follow him!” And then, before Fox could argue, he said desperately, “Please? You’ve got resources I don’t, you know things I never could. Your Blessing has been given to you for the gods only know what reason, please use it for this!” He could feel himself getting agitated now, a sudden anger punctuating his desperation. Anger, he realized quickly, at Fox. This boy, who’d never done anything to deserve his powers. He had been Windkissed. Chosen over someone like Neil, who had spent his whole life dedicated to magical learning. He knew it wasn’t Fox’s fault, but he couldn’t stop himself. He ploughed on, voice rising in frustration. “You Blessed all think you’re so special, because you got lucky. But what the hell good are you if you can’t even do this? If you can’t save the people who matter?”
Fox sat quite still, stari
ng at Neil in wide-eyed shock. A stunned silence hung in the air between them, before Fox said quietly, “They all matter.”
“That’s not what I —” Neil began, but Fox cut him off.
“Everyone I’ve ever lost has mattered. Topper. The people in the caravan who didn’t listen to me. The Thiccans, who died in the Desolata attack. An attack that happened because of me.” There was a tone in Fox’s voice that Neil had never heard. An intense, steely determination and barely-concealed anger. His jaw was tight, and his back straight as he stared Neil down. “You don’t think I wanted to save every single one of them? You don’t think they haunt me every day of my life?”
“So, you’d let one more life slip through your fingers without even trying?” growled Neil.
He knew he’d crossed a line. Fox stood abruptly and glared down at Neil. “I’m trying to save an entire world, and if that gets in the way of your love triangle and your pathetic broken heart, I’m sorry. But we have bigger problems than your romantic urges.”
At this, Neil laughed humorlessly. “Oh right, you and the two old men and a broken god are going to save the world.”
“We’ve got a better shot at it than you do, Dervish,” snapped Fox. And then, turning on his heel, Fox stormed across the training grounds. He vaulted the perimeter fence and disappeared, leaving Neil sitting alone in the grass, shaking with anger and embarrassment.
Dervish. For the first time ever, Fox had called him a Dervish, rather than a Shavid. It was the name for someone who traveled with the wanderers, but had no Shavid powers. And, as in Neil’s case, they often had no Blessings at all.
It wasn’t meant to be a derogatory term. But, in that moment, coming from his best friend, it was the worst thing Neil could ever imagine being called. Fox was calling him out. Neil could talk big all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he had no gift. He had no powers. He was, in this instance, completely and entirely helpless.
Inkspice (The Mapweaver Chronicles Book 2) Page 20