by Elle Cardy
Aurelius gave her a wry smile. “Eager to start your life of slavery?”
She wondered why he didn’t seem afraid for such a life.
An ornate clock ticked away the seconds. The ticks were loud and ceaseless. She wanted to blast the wretched contraption into oblivion as she’d blasted the wall of posters.
“Oh, my,” the kid murmured from the far corner. He stood on his toes and pulled out a leather-bound book from a shelf.
“Should you be messing with their stuff?” Jasmine knew enough to know that whatever awaited them when the Guardians returned, it could only be made worse by damaging their precious library.
“I really don’t care,” Aurelius said.
She hadn’t thought he’d thumb his nose at authority, let alone his precious Guardians. Maybe falling out of favor with Marcelo had done him a service.
Aurelius leafed through the book as he carried it to a desk. He sank into a chair and continued turning pages, his face aglow in the lamplight. Whatever had caught his attention, had caught it completely.
Jasmine had to see what was so fascinating. Bracing herself against the weakness coursing through her, she joined him at the desk. He ran a finger down a page full of tight angled script on brittle paper. There was no chance she could read that faded freehand, despite Finn’s training over the last few months.
Aurelius turned another page.
“Does it say how to escape these collars?” she asked.
“Of course not,” Aurelius said as if she were stupid for asking. She thought it was good question. Nothing else was more important. “It’s a book on the old magic.”
Was that all? Jasmine didn’t understand the kid. He was supposed to be smart like a scholar, but rather than looking for a way out of their situation, he buried himself in some ancient book. He made no sense at all.
She returned to the lounge and contemplated putting her head down to catch a few winks of sleep. It was what Finn would’ve done. Be smart. Regain some strength. She’d need it soon enough, because she sure didn’t have any right now. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and her breath was a whole lot shorter than it should be.
“Fascinating.” The kid sounded so like Marcelo that it was almost laughable.
Resting her head on the soft lounge arm, Jasmine let the cushions envelop her. She closed her eyes, and her body shuddered into sleep.
“Fascinating,” Aurelius said again, jarring Jasmine awake.
She let out a quiet sigh.
“There’s a lot here on the old magic. In particular, the strongest bloodline. The ones called Xandorians. Think I told you about them a few months ago.”
A lifetime ago. Attempting to escape Captain Kahld, Brusan had forced her to abandon the Prize. Aurelius had rescued them, and it was there on that small vessel he’d told her the story of how the world was different a thousand years ago. The magic was strange back then, the wielders treated with respect. Wielders could even be rulers. An odd thought considering the collar she wore around her neck.
He seemed to wait for an answer, so she offered him a vague grunt.
“This book confirms magic was passed down through the bloodlines. A wielder didn’t need to draw magic from a talisman. The magic itself lived in the person. This text alludes to magic’s origins too. If I’m reading this right, magic came into being through the birth of one child who carried it within him. Something like two or three thousand years ago. Or more. His name was … Xandory.” He sat back and let out a slow breath. “That makes sense.”
“I recognize that name,” Jasmine said, pleased with herself for knowing something. When he gave her a blank look, she said, “Xandory’s Eye.”
“Pardon?”
For someone who was supposed to know stuff, he sure had some chasms in his learning. “Xandory’s Eye is a constellation of six stars best seen in the southern sky in summer.”
“Oh, right.”
Any sailor worth his salt knew the constellations. She had figured land lovers at least knew the names of the constellations even if they weren’t able to find them in the sky.
“So what happened to the magic? Why’d it change?” she asked from the couch, because it didn’t seem likely she was going to get any sleep.
The kid shrugged. “No one knows for sure. There are scholars in Auslam who’ve dedicated their lives to studying the past.” He fell silent and gave the page a delicate stroke as if it were made of fine-spun silk.
She suspected he wanted to be one of those dusty old scholars with his head buried in yesteryears. A future denied him. The price of betraying the Order.
“Some believe a cataclysmic event caused the change, though no one can confirm what the event might’ve been. They do think it happened close to the time of the Great Illness.”
Jasmine knew this one. The kid had told her about it months ago. The Great Illness had taken out more than three quarters of Erenna’s population and set progress back countless years. Because it had been caused by one mad wielder, folk now hated and feared all wielders.
“Master Aggabott in Auslam doesn’t agree with the popular belief that the change was caused by the near annihilation of Erenna. He believes it was caused, more specifically, by the extinction of the Xandorian bloodline. With nowhere to go, magic expanded beyond the encasement of the human body and into what it is today — a power too elusive to capture without the use of an object of focus, a talisman, to tap into and channel. The natural evolution of an energy that needs to exist.”
Magic needing to exist? Jasmine doubted that. All it seemed to do was cause trouble.
The kid went back to studying the book, and she thought the conversation was over. Settling her head onto a cushion, she closed her eyes.
“Fascinating.”
She ground her teeth. Erenna’s magic wasn’t like that anymore. The supposed Xandorians were long dead. The world was a different place. That knowledge had no point to it. It helped nothing and no one. “You wanting to learn this old magic? Be a Xandorian?”
“Magic can’t be learned anymore. You should know that.”
She did know that. She knew it all too well. Because she could learn it. If she saw it, she could copy it. And that act labeled her a Learner and an Abomination, which was the worst kind of wielder, worthy of a silencing. No one but Marcelo knew, and she needed to keep it that way.
“Fascinating.”
After a moment long enough to make Jasmine’s eyelids grow heavy, he snorted. “Now we’re into the stuff of myth. The book claims that at the advent of a new star, a companion magic entered the world. Different again from the Xandorian magic.”
Jasmine really didn’t care.
He flipped a few pages. Loud and urgent. “This new magic doesn’t have a name. The writer of this book…” Aurelius flipped over the cover then searched the first few pages. “Anonymous. Well, anyway. The writer believed the other magic was only here for a short time, then all trace of it was lost. There’s a note in a different hand in the margin. ‘These claims have not been substantiated except through undocumented and unsupported hearsay and thus should be disregarded.’” The kid sounded disappointed, like finding out unicorns weren’t real.
Maybe now she’d get some sleep.
The clock ticked on.
“Fascinating. Listen to this…”
“Please stop,” she cried, startling the kid. “Read if you must but do it in silence.”
“Sorry,” he murmured.
She couldn’t help that she didn’t share his passion for fanciful tales. She needed to restore her strength, then maybe she’d be able to do something about their situation. Settling her head back down on the cushions, she tried to get comfortable.
Dawn touched the stained-glass windows and coaxed Jasmine’s eyes open. Bands of fractured color fell across the floor, blues and greens turning the red rug purple and the room into an underwater grotto. She had slept, but she didn’t feel rested.
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. Aurelius sat slumped at the desk. Sleep had claimed him with his head resting on the book. He drooled on the open pages. The lamp had burned out.
The door opened.
“Leave the talking to me,” Jasmine hissed.
Aurelius jerked awake. He sat up straight and wiped his chin. When he glanced at the book he’d been reading, his eyes widened. With a corner of his sleeve, he tried to wipe away the saliva he’d left behind.
An old man in white robes strode in. Not the same man who’d caught them. This one had sunken cheeks and a salt-and-pepper beard. He had the manner of Marcelo — a youthful mind trapped in an aged body — but from the lack of light in his eyes, there was no humor in him. Jasmine could read he was a wielder but couldn’t see it like she could with most wielders. What little of it she could see was subdued. A pearlescent oil slick on stagnant water. The lack of movement in it made her realize the power was simply for show. It wasn’t his real power.
Like looking for the hottest part of the flame, Jasmine glanced over his body. A difference in the radiation came from beneath the sleeve of his upper left arm. He hid his talisman there, in an armband under his clothes, the talisman itself pressed against the skin of his inner arm. She couldn’t tell exactly what it was. She tried not to look directly at that part of him so she didn’t give away her knowledge.
“I am Fenwick, scholar and benefactor of this town. Hullian tells me you are both stronger than the average wielder. Who are you, and where are you from?”
“Aurelius of Auslam, trained by Marcelo of Auslam, and this is Jasmine of the trade ship, Wielder’s Prize.”
Jasmine glared at Aurelius. He didn’t make eye contact with her.
Fenwick’s expression darkened. “Marcelo? The great Marcelo with his lustrous visions?”
“Aye. I mean yes.”
“Do you see visions?”
Aurelius shook his head.
“And you?”
Jasmine shook her head. A lie. The collar had allowed the lie. She wondered how that was possible. Maybe because she hadn’t spoken the lie aloud? Maybe the only vision she saw was of the Beast and the boiling seas. Not a vision but a nightmare. Maybe it was because the question skirted the edge between question and statement. It seemed the man hadn’t expected any other answer.
“Marcelo came to visit yesterday,” Fenwick said. “The scrolls he left behind shared nothing we didn’t already know. He was in such a hurry it made me think he was hiding something. What’s the old coot up to these days?” Fenwick’s eyes narrowed.
She would’ve liked to have known the answer too. Marcelo had let her assume he had taken Finn to town so they both could speak to the Order about what had happened in Sapphire Cove. Clearly that hadn’t happened.
“I’m traveling with him,” Aurelius said, head held high. “Back to Auslam.”
Did the kid have to give everything away? Jasmine didn’t trust Fenwick or his reason for questioning them. Aurelius seemed to think the more he gave them, the more chance he’d convince him that keeping them as prisoners or slaves was a bad idea. But there was nothing in Fenwick’s expression that indicated anything of the kind. The man had the same gleam in his eye as the townsfolk. He believed he could use the two of them in some way — whether it was to sell them to the folk for gold, or to benefit from keeping them in the Order. The Order wasn’t above using slaves for themselves.
“Is he staying in town?” Fenwick asked.
“Not in town. He’s on the ship that’s anchored in the harbor. The Wielder’s Prize?” The kid paused meaningfully and waited.
Fenwick frowned at him, looking decidedly annoyed. “I don’t know the name of every ship that passes through this forsaken town. They are of no consequence.”
If Marcelo had mentioned the events at Sapphire Cove in the scrolls he’d dropped off, Fenwick would’ve reacted to the name of the ship. Surely. Either the man was a good actor, or Marcelo had lied about his purpose behind dragging Finn to town. Jasmine would’ve bet on the lie.
“Has Marcelo seen any new visions?” Fenwick asked.
Aurelius looked like he wanted to spin some tale because it was clear he had no idea. After an exaggerated pause, he sighed and shook his head. “He doesn’t share his visions — with me anyway.”
“So who does he share them with?” Fenwick’s tone had grown hard, like barnacles on an old fishing boat.
Aurelius opened his mouth then closed it again. “No one.” His hand flew to his collar, and he gasped. “Finn. He probably tells Finn.”
“And who is this Finn? Is he on the ship also, or is he in Marcelo’s precious city, Auslam?”
If the Guardians had been behind the attack, then maybe Finn hadn’t been the target. There was enough hate in Fenwick’s eyes that made Jasmine think Marcelo could’ve been the target. But no, he hadn’t known Marcelo was on the ship. That confirmed it then. Gley had been right, and the Order hadn’t had anything to do with the attack.
“Finn Baracus,” Aurelius said. “Marcelo’s former apprentice. The one who left the Order. I, on the other hand, am a full member of the Order of Guardians. You need to release me.”
Jasmine closed her eyes. The fool boy just spoke the name of the Order in front of her, a non-member. His belief that being a full member of the Order gave him immunity also explained why he hadn’t been afraid of becoming a slave.
Fenwick’s gaze slid from Aurelius to Jasmine and back again. Something burned behind those cold eyes of his. “Is your companion a member?”
Aurelius’ face paled. “Yes, of course.” He winced, clutching his collar. “No, she isn’t.”
“So, then, you are aware of what you have done?”
“Aye.” Aurelius pressed his thin lips together. “Yes, I’m aware, but she already knew of the Order. It was Finn who revealed the Order to her a few months back. Not me.”
Always ready to throw Finn overboard. Jasmine wanted to spit on the kid.
Glaring at Aurelius, Fenwick held a long silence until the kid broke eye contact. “Earlier tonight a powerful spike of energy was felt. The work of an unknown wielder. An untagged one. Neither of you are strong enough to have caused such a spike. Is this Finn Baracus of yours strong enough?”
The kid shrugged. Again, Jasmine found herself grateful her depleted magic kept her true power hidden.
“Is he stronger than you?”
Aurelius’ gaze dropped to the floor as he ground his teeth. “Yes, he is a lot stronger than me.”
Fenwick nodded as if that had answered some other question. “Do either of you know anything about the incident in town earlier tonight?”
There were many incidents in town. The townsfolk had chased them through the streets. Jasmine had burned an entire wall of wanted posters to ash. They had found a would-be spy hiding in the back streets, acting as if she too could be one of the many faces on those posters.
The Guardian pressed his lips together. “The one where a slave wielder was silenced.”
Technically they didn’t know anything. “Only that it happened,” Jasmine said before Aurelius could spill that Finn had witnessed it then tried to interfere with it.
From a pocket inside his clothes, the man pulled out a clean sheet of paper. The almost perfect likeness of Finn had been etched in charcoal on its surface. The same image used on the wanted posters where his hair was too short. The only inaccuracy.
“This is the wielder who silenced a slave. Do either of you know who this is?”
“It’s Finn,” Aurelius said.
If Jasmine could’ve clapped him up the side of the head, she would’ve.
“He’s wrong,” she said, and the collar activated, filling her mouth with bile. “Not about the image, but about the silencing. Finn doesn’t have the power to silence.”
Aurelius lifted a finger and winced. “That’s not actually true. He does know how to silence.”
Finn had once told
her that he couldn’t. He’d also told her he’d witnessed the silencing, not done it. Marcelo had said the same. Even if Finn knew how to silence, which he didn’t, he would never do it. Not in a million. He’d come face-to-face with the Beast. He’d seen the Beast’s prison for himself. He knew that silencings gave the Beast strength to escape the prison. Jasmine was sure the silencing that Finn had failed to prevent was why the Beast was back haunting her with visions of a dark future.
Fenwick’s piercing eyes bored into her. “Do you know him well? Because as a member of the Order, he would know how to silence a wielder.”
“Former member,” she said.
“Answer me!”
“She thinks he couldn’t harm a fly,” Aurelius said. “Finn the perfect. Love can blind a person.”
“Love?” Fenwick found this far too interesting for Jasmine’s liking. “Then you’ll be missed if you don’t return to the ship?”
Aurelius lifted his chin. “That’s right. You need to release us or—”
“You’re wrong about Finn,” Jasmine said.
“Nebbin,” Fenwick called, and a collared wielder appeared in the doorway. “Take these two to the pen.”
Chapter 11
Aurelius grabbed hold of the iron bars and shook them. They didn’t budge. “I’m one of you!” he cried into the gloom.
“In what fantasy do you think that makes a difference?” Jasmine asked from a bench seat, the only place to sit in the small pen, apart from the straw-strewn floor.
Two large pigs snuffled in the pen next to them. In an enclosed pen farther down, a goat munched on a bale of hay. This wasn’t a dungeon exactly. It was temporary housing for the manor’s livestock while they awaited slaughter for the next meal. The only light came from a narrow barred opening high in the back wall of each pen. Jasmine couldn’t see the sky and couldn’t smell the sea, but at least a cool breath of air floated down with the faint filtered light.