The aged wizard seemed about to say something more, but his eyelids fell shut. A twitch ran through his body. His chest sank down and did not rise again.
“He’s gone,” Dona Seraphina reported, and began the Litany for the Dead. Terrell joined her in the words, trying to find solace, while tears dripped down his face. Pen gripped his shoulder and wept with him.
CHAPTER 18: YMERA AND KIRIN
The next day Ymera rose early and crafted a message construct to send to Gee, her spy in the Old City. It took only a few minutes to cast the spell, write a cursive message upon the charged air with one glowing finger, and fold it for sending. Gee ought to be able to assemble interesting information on a troupe as well known as the DiUmbras, but Ymera had a detailed desire in mind.
There is something odd about that boy, beyond the color of his skin, she thought as she launched the glittering construct. Gee is skilled at discovering secrets. She’ll find it.
* * *
Kirin stepped out of busy Sulfur Street into the quiet of the little walled courtyard. A pair of ancient date palms shaded the green door that he had once known so well. Pieter hesitated inside the arched entry, stared at the copper nailheads that made an intricate swirling pattern on the painted wood.
“Do you know what that pattern means?” Pieter asked Kirin abruptly.
Kirin looked at it, really seeing it for the first time. “That this is Mother Gee’s place?”
“More,” Pieter growled. “The curls along the bottom are Bhinnish script. They say ‘under Ymera’s protection.’”
“Oh.” Kirin looked at the door, looked back at his father. “You never told me that before.”
“Nine years,” his adoptive father sighed. “When I found you in the street outside Gerlach’s burning house, looking so lost that it broke my heart, I was furious with Gee. With myself. We should have saved you from ever being enslaved or bought you off the auction block.”
“You didn’t have any money, and Mother Gee couldn’t have outbid Gerlach.” Kirin searched for the right words. “After I got away from him, I remember sitting in that Temple garden with you. You . . . you let me sit without touching me, until I could stop remembering what he did to me, and simply lean against you. Until I could stand to be touched again. You saved me, Father.”
“I was too slow.” Pieter answered bitterly. “Almost too late.”
“But you weren’t.” Kirin flexed his arms, raised his head proudly. “Look at me, Father. I’m grown now, thanks to you. Maia and I are going to make you a grandfather soon. I turned out pretty good, didn’t I?”
Pieter smiled at last. “That you did.” His smile fled again as his gaze returned to the door. “But it sticks in my throat to take money from her, especially when we don’t know what she wants, who she wants it for, or why.”
Kirin’s own gaze fell a little. “Father. It’s my fault that Millago didn’t pay us.”
His father sighed. “Partly true, son. You made the mistake on the tightrope, but Sevan and Maia both panicked with you. If any of you had kept your heads and continued straight on, or even paused to give my father time to call intermission, it would have been much easier to salvage the situation. Instead you lost yourselves in fear and couldn’t find your way back into your roles. All three of you. Remember that for the future, son, but don’t let the memory crush you. You will make mistakes in this life, because you are human.” Pieter deliberately tweaked him on one pointed ear, and repeated, “Human. Face your mistakes, redeem them if you can but at least learn from them, and continue living.”
Shame eased its grip on Kirin’s heart. He pushed the memory of the fiasco aside and nodded. “Do you think there’s any way we could convince Millago to give us a second chance?”
Pieter shook his head. “I doubt it, son. After the embarrassment of Dona Keldra’s dress, the Purists would see him employing us as a poke in their eyes. Why would a rich man risk that? I doubt he’ll pick a fight that he doesn’t need.”
“Then other merchants might think the same.” Kirin scowled. “It’ll be even harder to find a patron now.”
“It might be easier, too.” Pieter gave him a wry smile. “The Purists aren’t widely loved in Aretzo, and the Orthodox and Dissenters might be privately glad to give us business now. Trouble with the harshest—and smallest—faction could turn out to be good for us. Or at least, not bad.”
That thought eased Kirin’s heart and offered the first hope he’d known today. “Really?”
“We’ll see. It could take hard work and time to find another patron, but I’m not worried.”
Kirin accepted Pieter’s words and looked at the green door again. “Ten dohba is still a good offer for a little talking.”
“Suspiciously good.” Pieter glowered at the painted wood.
Kirin sighed. “Father . . . you said it could take some time to find another patron, and we need the money . . . please?”
“All right, son. Let’s see what she wants.”
They ascended the stairs inside the green door and knocked on the plainer door at the top.
“Come in,” said Mother Gee’s voice.
Kirin opened the door and glanced around rapidly. The little room remained unchanged from nine years ago. Over there stood the same low bench where he and the rest of her boys had gathered to report what they’d seen and heard, over here the table with the bubbling samovar of tea with which she plied her customers. Swathed in a loose robe of faded rose and violet stripes, she occupied a comfortable chair behind the table. He thought her face had gained more wrinkles in the last few tendays.
“Mother Gee!” he greeted her with as much cheer as he could muster. “You sent for us, here we are.”
She greeted him and Pieter with their names and waved them to two chairs facing her table. A cat sat on a shelf behind her, purring contentedly. Mother Gee had a pile of coins in front of her; ten silver dohba.
Kirin found the offered chair had a rag-stuffed cushion. She offered tea from mugs freshly poured and waiting under a heat spell. She took such obvious pains to welcome them that it surprised him.
Pieter sat next to him and gave the coins a sour look. “We’re here. What do you want?”
“I heard about the accident at Millago’s house,” Gee said. “I want to know everything about what happened.” She pushed the pile of coins across the table into Pieter’s hands.
That surprised Kirin even more. He’d seen her buy words from people before, but she never gave them the coins until fully satisfied.
Pieter’s nostrils flared, and he gave her an unfriendly look. “If this is some disguised attempt at charity—”
“It’s not. I’m not a Temple almshouse. I’m a businesswoman.” She gave Pieter a swift glance that Kirin couldn’t read and turned to him. “Tell me how the events looked through your eyes, Kirin.” Her face remained stiff.
He remembered the way she had seemed to him when she first took him in, harsh and demanding. He’d soon learned she had a kindness underneath that she rarely showed to anyone but her boys. That had won his loyalty all those years ago. He answered her willingly now.
“It began well,” he said. “But near the end, I made a bad mistake.”
* * *
Ymera had been pleased by the promptness of Gee’s message. She had activated the difficult spell that she had cast upon one of her cats before arranging for the beast to be in Gee’s office today. It let her look through the cat’s eyes and hear with its ears. She had settled herself comfortably when the young halfbreed arrived, ready to watch and listen.
Then events veered into strangeness. Gee had addressed two people, but only one had entered. Ymera recognized him as the older acrobat who had played the Tormentor. She saw him take a seat—and the empty chair next to him moved as well. Gee offered a mug of tea to the empty chair and the mug vanished!
Ymera found herself mesmerized. Clearly Gee carried on a conversation, prompting a third person to address points she wished, asking quest
ions. But Ymera saw nobody there.
Wrong, she told herself. The young halfbreed must be there, for she addressed him familiarly. But I cannot see or hear him. My spy spell is completely missing the youth.
She marveled for a moment at the unprecedented lapse. In a flash of shocked realization, she understood.
He is invisible to my spells. By all the Angels and Demons, probably to any spells.
It took her only another heartbeat to reach the next conclusion. That means he can walk through any guard spell and not set it off. Or he could destroy it, the way he destroyed the spell on Dona Keldra’s dress and destroyed my feather-fall spell.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or weep at her own blindness. She had seen him do it and hadn’t even recognized the truth before her eyes.
And I’ll wager the rest of the crowd didn’t either.
The advantages that such an extraordinary ability could confer were frightening to contemplate. It sent cold prickles down her back, activating the fear-reactions of her kind that made her hands curl into claws and her white lips peel back from teeth bared in a fanged snarl. No trap or spell-lock could keep that boy out if he wanted to pass through.
Probably not even mine. That must be why Chisaad is interested in the boy. This isn’t romance, this is recruitment. Chisaad must have come to that party already knowing about this halfbreed. I thought it odd that he showed such interest in acrobatics. But this boy is the reason for his interest in this troupe. And he doesn’t want me to realize that.
She frowned, wondering if this could be part of some last-minute maneuver of Ap Marn’s to cling to the governorship and his lucrative graft.
No. That venal fool hasn’t the necessary imagination. But Chisaad does. Would he tell Ap Marn? Unlikely. Chisaad’s oath is to the Silbari throne, not the Governor. He would hug this knowledge close to his heart rather than share it with any Gwythlo. He might be playing some deep game of his own. But most likely he told Shimoor while trying to understand the boy’s power. Chisaad trusts few, but Shimoor heads that list.
Would Shimoor tell anyone? Of course! His loyalty to the Crown is legendary. He would certainly tell Prince Terrell.
She examined her reasoning carefully. It remained possible that Chisaad acted on his own, but at least as possible for the Prince to be behind this. Indeed, this was exactly the sort of clumsy foray into subterfuge that a young ruler might try, not realizing that someone with Ymera’s experience would investigate the boy first.
Wait. Shimoor or Chisaad would have warned him. If the Prince knows that I’ll realize what his wizard has found, he may be testing me! Testing to see how circumspect I am, perhaps? Will I do his concealed bidding and never mention it?
That had the ring of truth. She elevated one fine eyebrow for a moment, impressed with the pup. Yes, if my suspicions are correct, this young Terrell may be subtle enough to take and wear the Crown. Chisaad might still be acting on his own, but it’s hard to see what he gains from that. Clearer is what the Prince gains.
But should she help him, or not? A weapon like this boy could be used against her as well. That should frighten any sane magic-user. She looked at her clawed hands, touched the savage rictus of her face. Her servants had instructions not to disturb her, but if anyone chanced to barge in with an ‘important message’ she would probably shock the poor fool to death. She took a long breath and willed herself back into the delicate, brown, unthreatening shape she had worn for so long.
Would she be wiser to simply arrange the boy’s death? He was obviously a mortal, and they died of so many things.
The temptation made her shiver, and that reminded her why she had resisted similar temptations in the past.
No. I would not truly be safer; there is no safety for my kind! I would merely risk the Prince’s anger if he suspects. I am already vulnerable to the King in half a dozen ways, with the power of the Stone Throne not the least of them. That is why I have offered my oath to a parade of Silbari rulers. To bind them to me, for my safety. That balance is not changed simply because the Prince may acquire a new weapon.
She speculated. If she helped him acquire this boy, she might be able to add a new and different thread to that tapestry binding the possible future King to her. The boy-Prince’s decision to stay with dying Shimoor signaled that he knew the meanings of the words gratitude and obligation. That could be very valuable to her someday.
I’ll do it. But first I want to learn all that I can about this amazing young acrobat.
She returned her full attention to the cat.
* * *
“We had their hearts in our hands, Mother Gee. Maia danced the Descent beautifully, I could see the crowd’s faces and she had them all praying for her. When she freed me—freed Malik, I mean—we sang the Love Duet so perfect, I think some of them stopped breathing. But then we moved into the Escape, and that’s where things went wrong.”
Her eyes were intense, but she tore her attention away from him long enough to dart a glance at Pieter before returning that commanding gaze to Kirin. “Tell me everything that you saw. Everything that you experienced.”
Kirin paused. He had never told her about his Shadow. For the first time in years, he wondered if she knew about it, and wondered if she meant that she wanted to know more. But why not ask him directly? She’d never been hesitant before. Before he could decide the limits of his willingness to tell her, Pieter intervened.
“Why are you asking my son these questions, Gee?” He leaned forward to squint at her. “Who wants to know?”
“Not everything I do is for a client,” she answered, bland as skimmed milk. “Sometimes I want to know for my own understanding.”
Pieter snorted disbelief. “Don’t treat me like a child. You offered us money!”
She bobbed her head in an oddly nervous gesture and glanced rapidly from Pieter to Kirin and back. “There will be complicated consequences descending from that evening at Millago’s mansion, Pieter. Many powerful people were there. Some are likely to grow curious once they have had time to think about it a little more. That curiosity will beget questions, and attention. Attention that doesn’t much care about the people that it fastens on, but only cares about how they can be used. Your family could suffer from that kind of attention. Or could benefit, if I direct any inquiries into . . . safer channels.” She gave him a long steady stare.
Kirin glanced at Pieter in time to see his father’s face go grim. “No,” Pieter whispered. “You wouldn’t sell us out—sell him! Not after Gerlach!”
“Never!” She spat the word fiercely and stared at Pieter again with a pleading expression. “But you have very little room for maneuver. I can help you there.”
Kirin looked away. His chest hurt at the mere thought of such betrayal. Mother Gee wouldn’t sell me . . . would she? But why? What could make her do that?
His gaze caught the cat sitting on a shelf and watching them all with unnatural intensity. A complex spell wrapped it, focused into whirling circles around the ears and the eyes.
A spell on its eyes and ears . . . a watching and listening spell? Why would Mother Gee have such a thing?
He knew she had no powerful magic. Her talents ran to small things like the heat-spell on the mugs. But she had more than enough magesight to have noticed this. The cat sat there in plain sight, she could reach out and touch it. She must be allowing it. Who would have put a spell on a cat?
Then he knew. Anger boiled up from his heart, his Shadow rising with it. He called some of it into his hands, rolled an ebony ball and threw it at the cat. The creature didn’t seem to notice it coming, it only sat there until his Shadow struck the spell and ate it. The cat yowled as if bee-stung, leaped off the shelf and disappeared.
* * *
The abrupt death of her spell shocked Ymera. She half-rose from her seat, settled again. Did the boy do that?
She tested the spell; simply gone. Even if the cat had died, the break shouldn’t have been that sharp. And a dispelling woul
d have left traces that she had too much experience to miss.
Yes. He had to have done it. Gee and the one she named Pieter were still arguing. How? Does this mean the boy has magesight? I think he must have. Yet he showed no trace of mage-abilities at the party.
If he destroyed my spell because he guessed he was being spied upon, he’ll demand Gee reveal the watcher. What will Gee say?
The information-seller’s stiffness during the session troubled Ymera, as did that argument with the older man. Gee had too much skill to make such elementary mistakes.
She didn’t want me to learn all there is to know about the boy. She’s protecting him. He must have been one of her boys once, there’s no more likely explanation. Given her tension and her vehemence with that Pieter, she’ll tell him the truth.
That disturbed her on more than one level.
I am surprised that Gee has developed such a strong attachment to him, strong enough to compromise her loyalty to me. There must be something deeper there.
Ymera set that thought aside for later. Right now, there remained the issue of the boy, especially his unilateral destruction of her spell without consulting Gee or his older companion. That indicated a certain amount of recklessness. What would he do next?
What any other rash youth would do. He’ll come here.
She smiled and began to prepare.
* * *
The echo of the spell’s power rippled through Kirin and vanished, leaving behind only a faint scent of lilac and fear. The idea of being spied upon by the Witch-Queen scared him down to his toes even as it fueled his anger.
Pieter tensed with alarm at the cat’s screech, demanded, “What did you do?”
“Broke a spy-spell,” Kirin answered as he turned to accuse Gee. “Madam Ymera sent that cat, didn’t she?” Before the old woman could answer, he plaintively added, “Why, Mother?”
Gee let out her breath in a whoosh and seemed to shrink. “Yes, she was listening. She sent me word that she wanted to know about you and sent the cat to watch. I owe her too much to refuse, and it would have made her suspicious enough to do something more dangerous. I called you here and gambled that I could make you cautious without giving myself away to her. Probably a fool’s dream; she has centuries of experience smelling out lies.” She eyed Kirin, visibly wondering. “When you were with me you had to touch a spell to break it, but today you never left your chair. What was that dark thing you threw?”
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