Inkspice (The Mapweaver Chronicles Book 2)

by Kaitlin Bellamy

  Neil didn’t return to his room that evening. Instead, he made his way to the library, bribing one of the bookkeepers to let him stay late into the night. He tucked himself into the secret alcove where he had first met Gully, armed with a stack of tomes and a fresh sheaf of parchment. For hours, he took notes and drew plans and checked obscure magical facts in ancient works. He copied translations of crumbling scrolls, and was soon surrounded by drying sheets of vellum, covered in arcane markings and mechanical sketches.

  It was dawn when he emerged again, exhausted but inspired. There had to be a way, he’d decided, to give a gift to the giftless. To Bless the unBlessed. And he was going to find it, or invent it himself.

  ∞∞∞

  Almost a week passed, and Neil and Fox still hadn’t spoken again. During that time, Neil spent hours on end in the library, disappearing into his work for so long that he would forget to eat. He made little progress, but it didn’t matter. He was doing something. Not just sitting idly by and waiting while the woman he loved was locked away.

  Occasionally, he and Fox would cross paths as Fox disappeared upstairs, into his University classroom. But they no longer sat together at dinner, and Neil did not venture out to the training grounds in the evening. At times, it felt as though Fox wanted to say something to him. But Neil stubbornly refused to make eye contact, and always left the area first.

  “So what, are you just not friends anymore?” asked Merrick one morning. Fox had already left their rooms, and Neil was just getting back in from an all-night visit to the library.

  “I suppose not,” said Neil glumly.

  “Oh don’t be stupid,” said James. “You’ve never gotten on as well with any of us as you have with him. Just go apologize!”

  “How do you know I have to apologize?” said Neil incredulously. “What if he’s the one who was being a —”

  “Because we’ve known you for years,” said Merrick, rolling his eyes. “And we all know you can be a brooding little prig. So swallow your pride or anger or whatever, and go make up.”

  Neil dropped his books onto his bedside table and collapsed onto the mattress, stretching out with a yawn. “I’ll think about it,” he said, closing his eyes. “But he’s not so innocent either, I’ll have you know.”

  There were a more minutes of aimless conversation as the rest of the boys finished getting dressed, discussing their plans for the day. And then, Neil was left alone to sleep. He rolled over, trying to ease the pain in his back from sitting at his study table for too long. He was just beginning to drift off to sleep, finally, when the door slammed open again, and he sat up with a jolt.

  Fox stood in the doorway

  “What,” said Neil, “did they send you up here to make friends again? Meddlesome little parasites ...”

  “Neil.” Fox looked nervous. Concerned about something. The worry in his voice made Neil sit up cautiously.

  “Are you ... are you alright?” Neil asked.

  “He’s here. The prince from Fernaphia. He’s ... they’re ...”

  With a growing dread, Neil realized what Fox was building up to. He waited, willing Fox to say it out loud.

  “There’s going to be a banquet tonight, in his honor,” said Fox, with the air of settling a particularly antsy horse. “He’s meeting Gully for the first time, and officially announcing their engagement.”

  ∞∞∞

  The fight was all but forgotten. Harsh words that had been thrown in anger faded away as Neil and Fox absconded to the arboretum bridge to speak in private.

  “I tried to tell you I’d been checking up on her,” admitted Fox. For the first time Neil noticed how tired his friend looked. There were circles under his eyes dark enough to match the ink stains on his hands. “There was just never the right time. I didn’t want another ... that is, things got very out of hand last time we spoke ... ”

  “Please,” said Neil, “don’t. Nothing more needs to be said about it. Not now, not ever. Just ... just tell me about Gully.”

  “Vol Tyrr keeps his personal guards outside her door night and day,” said Fox. “Other than her family, and the general himself, only one person goes in and out. Norda, Gully’s personal lady-in-waiting.”

  “But the general is allowed in?” asked Neil, fists clenching in fury.

  “Only with a chaperone,” said Fox quickly. “And very rarely. It seems no one wants to risk upsetting the alliance more than it already might have been. More often, it’s Lord Gilvard, yelling at her. Or their younger sister, the blind one. Her name is Wendy.”

  Neil forced himself to loosen his jaw enough to speak. “Is she being fed, or just treated like a prisoner?”

  “Norda brings her food and drink twice a day. Nowhere near as fancy as we have downstairs, but she is still a noble. However, from what I can tell, she barely touches it.” When Neil’s whole body clenched unintentionally, Fox reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Listen, she’s alive. And she’s safe. She may not be particularly happy at the moment, but we can fix that later. For now, let’s just focus on what we know, and what we’re doing about it.”

  “What are we doing about it, Fox?” snapped Neil. “This prince is just going to, what, collect her and move on? We can’t even leave the city ourselves, let alone stalk the Fernaphian prince and his alliance bride when they leave.”

  “This prince,” said Fox smoothly, “is staying in town for a fortnight. During which, he’ll be scheduled appearances and ceremonies, with Gully at his side. Squired all over town by Lord Gilvard and Vol Tyrr.” He raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “Most likely, being shown all this city has to offer.”

  “The magical source,” said Neil, understanding. “You think he can lead you to it?”

  “I think now is our best chance,” said Fox. “We believe we can start passing coded messages with Gully as well. We can find out what she sees on these outings, and formulate a plan. Not only to relieve Lord Gilvard of his magic, but also of his sister and his alliance. We also think Norda will be very willing to help us. She has far more loyalty to Gully than she does to the Gilvard name, or the city.”

  Neil stood, letting the possibility sink in, not daring to allow himself to hope. “You truly think you can find and steal this magical source, free Gully, and get the Shavid out of Calibas alive?”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Fox said, “I do.”

  And then, despite his efforts, Neil felt hope growing deep within him, warming him and making him smile for the first time in over a week. “So do I, friend.”

  ∞∞∞

  The main hall was drowning in lavish grandeur. Every table was covered with finely-embroidered cloths, and gem-encrusted centerpieces that caught the light and cast multi-colored shimmers on the fabric. The windows had been hung with heavy velvet drapes in emerald green, and thin strands of crystalline beads had been hung on every free space of wall, giving the impression that they were all dining inside a giant chandelier. The actual chandeliers, hanging high above, had been lit with magically multi-colored flames. Some shone red, others purple or blue, and here and there a green flame danced merrily. Intricately-patterned carpets had been tucked into place beneath the long tables running along three sides of the room, leaving the polished center of the hall free for dancing and performance.

  The Shavid had been given their own raised platform tonight, a small stage tucked into a corner where they could still be seen without being in the way. Neil could tell at once that their smiles were forced, and he caught Radda’s eye, trying to send him silent encouragement, before taking his own seat at the nearest end of the table. Fox was already there, and Neil found Bartrum across the hall, dining at a section of higher importance than a few Shavid Dervishes would be welcome to join.

  At the head of the magnificently-dressed hall, the royal dais was more spectacular than anything else in the room. The tablecloth looked as though it had been poured from liquid bronze, and studded with rare gemstones that winked from the ripples and folds. Every cha
ir had been replaced with a velvet throne in the same emerald shade as the curtains. Above it all, a strange hanging garden had been installed like a grand archway, but the draping plants appeared to be crafted rather than grown. They glimmered like stone and precious metals instead of foliage, and were dotted with strands of crystal that matched the beadwork around the room.

  The ruling family hadn’t arrived yet, and neither had General Vol Tyrr. Guests were still milling about and slowly taking their seats, the buzz of anticipation in the air. But Neil barely registered any of them. He was watching the door where he knew the nobles would enter. At his side, Fox kept up a steady stream of small talk to distract him. But, when the royal fanfare finally sounded, it was all Neil could do not to jump up immediately.

  Vol Tyrr came first, dressed in full polished armor, with a deep purple cape draped over one shoulder. The clasp, and the cape’s golden embellishment, both resembled the Fernaphian royal crest. He marched to the table, head held high, a smug smile all over his face. In his mind, Neil immediately re-visited a favorite fantasy of his, in which he destroyed the general punch by punch. The vision sustained him as Lord Gilvard himself entered, pristine in his high-collared, floor-length silks.

  And then, Gwendolyn Gilvard was announced by the court herald, and Neil forgot everything and everyone else. He watched with bated breath as she entered, and when he saw her he knew. More than ever before, more even than he had known when they were seeing each other every day: he would do anything for her.

  Gully was notably thinner than she’d been before she’d been locked away, giving confirmation to Fox’s claims that she hadn’t been eating. Her face looked tired, and covered with too much paint and powder to hide it. She did not smile, but walked straight to her seat, head held high. And despite it all, she was radiant. She’d been dressed in a gown that matched the deep purple of Vol Tyrr’s cape, apparently to honor the prince and his arrival. The neckline was as low as propriety would allow, showing off a tantalizing amount of pale skin, and it hugged her hips in a way that was quickly driving Neil mad. Her flaming curls were half-braided down her back, and a single drop of amethyst hung from a circlet around her forehead.

  There was a pain in Neil’s arm, and he suddenly realized Fox was gripping it. Hard. “Calm down,” Fox murmured beneath the crowd’s applause, so only Neil could hear him. “If they don’t already know you’re her secret lover, one look at your face will spoil that secret. Remember, it’s all just for show. The prince isn’t interested in anything Gully has to offer, this is just a business arrangement.”

  The youngest noble sibling, Wendy, was led in last of all, and deposited in her seat at the end of the dias. Gully was seated next to her brother, with an empty seat on her other side intended for the prince. With all of his effort, Neil tore his gaze from the dais and stared at his plate.

  “She’s not afraid,” said Fox quietly. “She feels ... angry.”

  “Not here,” said Neil. “Don’t risk it. I don’t want you getting found out.”

  “I’m fine,” Fox insisted, eyes closed as he reached out with his magic. “Vol Tyrr is ... excited. Proud of ... something.”

  At that moment, another fanfare sounded, and all eyes turned toward the main door. A long line of dignitaries and ambassadors began to file in, until finally Prince Leofrick himself brought up the rear. The man looked, Neil thought, as though the journey here had not agreed with him. Or perhaps he was usually that pale and sickly-looking. His cheeks were hollow, his whole face gaunt, and he walked as though every step were an enormous effort. He was dressed quite as elegantly as everyone else, but the clothes seemed to hang off his frame in a way that was unheard of among pampered royalty. As if he’d lost weight very quickly since they were fitted to him.

  When Prince Leofrick finally reached the dais, Lord Gilvard spread his arms wide in welcome, and spoke loudly enough for the entire court to hear. “We welcome you, our foreign noble brother, to the humble city of Calibas! We are honored by your presence, and the prospect of our future alliance.” He held out his hand, calling Gully forward. “May I present, my half-sister, Gwendolyn Gilvard. She is of the noblest blood, and would make a fine wife for you.”

  “Indeed,” said the prince, not even glancing at Gully as she curtsied low. Leofrick’s voice sounded strained, and tired. Neil was sure he just wanted to sit down and eat, and get this whole show over with. “On behalf of my kingdom, Fernaphia, I am pleased to make official this engagement. May our bonds be eternal, and our families prosperous.”

  There was a resounding cheer, and the feast officially began. Gully and Prince Leofrick sat in awkward silence the entire meal, not even trying to get to know one another. Neil found it difficult to focus on his own food, despite its extravagance. Lord Gilvard seemed to have spared no expense in his effort to impress the Fernaphian royalty. Each course was themed and color-coordinated, and nothing looked like what it was meant to be. The cheeses were all carved to look like flowers, the bread was shaped into forest animals and birds. Meat pies had been adorned and painted to look like small works of art, but all entirely edible. Even the soup was upgraded, each plume of smoke rising from its piping hot surface resembling a tree or a building of some sort. At Neil’s side, Fox tore into his own dishes with almost feral enthusiasm.

  “Are they starving you at University?” asked Neil.

  “Just busier than normal,” said Fox through a mouth full of pork. “Extra lessons with ... everybody. More training.” The boy gulped down his own soup in one breath, and then sat for a moment, panting and wincing in pain.

  “Too hot?” asked Neil, chuckling in spite of himself.

  “Like drinking fire,” admitted Fox with a slight whimper.

  It happened as the dessert course was beginning. The servants were pushing carts from table to table, delivering mounds of cinnamon-dusted chocolates and sweet breads and fruit, and ladling hot cocoa into gem-encrusted goblets. Neil was just about to dig into a chocolate swan when there was a commotion at the noble dais. Everyone looked up, and gasps and screams filled the room.

  Prince Leofrick was bleeding. From the nose, the corner of his mouth, and even his eyes. He coughed and sputtered, his eyes wide in panic as Gully sprang to her feet. She grabbed every cloth she could and frantically began trying to staunch the flow, as her brother sat motionless with terror. Vol Tyrr was immediately at the prince’s other side, cradling his master’s head and examining him closely.

  “Healer!” shouted Gully. “We need a healer!”

  But Vol Tyrr raised his hand to silence her. He released the prince, who was falling still, and turned to address the court.

  “Our beloved Prince Leofrick has been ill for some time,” he said as the room began to quiet. “It appears that the travel and the excitement took their toll, and he finally succumbed to his illness.”

  “He’s talking about him as though he’s dead,” hissed Neil to Fox. “But look! His chest still rises and falls! Why isn’t he trying to save him?”

  Vol Tyrr continued. “It pains me to say farewell to the youngest prince of our great nation, a man who has been my friend for many years. However, I will do my duty, as is required by the Fernaphian law. As Leofrick’s second, I will continue in his stead. And I would be honored to carry on the engagement, and our alliance.” He reached out and pulled Gully up to stand beside him.

  Gully was looking up at him in horror and fury, her hands covered in the prince’s blood. “Our agreement was with the prince,” she said, loudly enough for everyone to hear.

  “And you’re looking at him, my love,” said Vol Tyrr with a smile. An evil, possessive smile. “In my country, any unmarried prince over the age of twenty must choose a legal heir. Someone strong, to keep the royal line alive and virile.”

  “And how long had you been his, then?” spat Gully, every inch of her radiating disgust.

  “Come now!” said Vol Tyrr with a laugh. “Don’t you worry you pretty little head about politics. You’ve got a
wedding to plan!” He tossed a threatening look at the Shavid on their raised stage. “Well play something, why don’t you? This is meant to be a celebration!”

  The music picked up again at once, but the players looked positively ill. Most people did. Desserts were left untouched as the palace medics removed the prince’s body, which finally appeared to be legitimately dead. Vol Tyrr took the prince’s vacated seat beside Gully, and insisted on washing the blood from her hands for her. Even Lord Gilvard looked away at this, forcing a smile onto his face and loudly encouraging conversation among the guests.

  By the next morning, notices had gone up all around the city: The wedding of Gwendolyn Gilvard and His Royal General Vol Tyrr Northingward would be held in one week.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Evie

  Fox hid in the shadows of the kitchen rooftops, waiting for Bartrum’s signal. He kept a steady breeze blowing in his own ear to keep himself awake. He hadn’t slept since the feast, two days ago, and couldn’t risk dozing off now. Making sure he was perfectly secure, Fox breathed deep and let his senses disappear into the wind.

  The aftermath of Prince Leofrick’s death, and the promotion of General Vol Tyrr to royalty, had sent new waves of chaos into the city of Calibas. Two very different stories had begun to circulate among the commoners and the cityfolk who hadn’t been there in person. The first was that the foreign prince had brought with him some horrible plague, and that everyone should fear for their lives. Almost overnight, frightened peasants had begun boarding up their windows and doors, and those merchants who specialized in protective amulets and healing herbs suddenly found themselves in higher than usual demand. Panic had spread faster than flood waters, and soon people were speculating wildly about what disease could have brought Prince Leofrick – a noble from a country where they were famed for their warriors and strength – to such a messy and horrific end.