Shadow & Flame

by Mindee Arnett

  “They were everweeps, Harue.” Kate motioned toward the window, where she could glimpse a patch of them growing at the foot of the alley across the way. The colorful plants grew everywhere in Rime—anywhere the sun fell. “I’ve lived here all my life. I would never mistake them. They’re the reason why, aren’t they?”

  Harue didn’t answer. Her gaze had turned inward, and her churning thoughts could almost be heard aloud. Then suddenly, her expression changed, wonder lighting up her face like a sunrise. “Do you know what this means?” Harue stood up, the book she’d been reading tumbling to the floor, forgotten.

  Kate just stared, exasperated, as Harue failed to elaborate. The woman swung off the bed and toward the wardrobe, one currently so stuffed with books the doors wouldn’t close, and started pulling volumes out one by one.

  Sometime later, she found the book she was looking for and placed it on the bed. It looked new, the pages crisp and the binding not yet cracked. Harue opened it and began thumbing through the pages. Finally she stopped and leaned toward the book to read, her eyes sliding back and forth in a dizzying motion.

  Kate waited as long as her patience would allow, before bursting out, “Well? What does it mean?”

  Harue ignored her, reading the rest of the page. As she closed the book, that look of wonder crossed her face again. “Roderick’s theory on the synthesis of magical energy and transference is right.” She stared at Kate, her look expectant now.

  “What?” Kate nearly screamed in frustration.

  “Hiram Roderick,” Wen said, stepping out of the corner where she’d been hovering. She pointed at the book. “Better known as Hiram the Heretic.”

  Drawing a deep breath, Kate let it out slowly, keeping her temper in check. The expression of anger or frustration, or practically every other human emotion, was wasted on Harue. “I don’t know anything about this theory.”

  “It’s simple, really.” Harue opened the book once more. “Hiram believed that the magic of Rime—that is, the magic of wilders and magists—is somehow connected to the everweeps, as you said. He postulated it was a chemical process, where the everweeps release some kind of invisible substance into the air, and we in turn breathe it in, activating our magic. That’s why it stops working at night. The sun must play a part as well, since the flower blossoms close when it sets. He believed sunlight was the start of the process.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kate said, calmer now to have her suspicions confirmed. “What do you mean by a chemical process?”

  Harue raked her hands through her tangle of hair, jarring her glasses askew. She righted them with an automatic gesture born of long habit. “It’s a reaction, like when you set a pot of water to boiling. The everweeps—along with the sun—act like the heat. It sets the magic inside us to bubbling. Puts it into a usable state.”

  Kate ran her tongue along her teeth, thinking it over. “Are you saying all I need to ensure my sway will work in Seva is to bring along some everweeps?”

  “Well, yes, but it won’t be that simple. You’ll need a fair amount of them, I would expect. And they must be kept alive and healthy. Everweeps won’t grow in any soil except for Rime’s.”

  Kate puzzled over this, remembering the vast amount of them growing inside the pit. No wonder it had felt like a homecoming when she first saw it. The idea that Magnar Fane and Rendborne had managed to transport all that soil in order to grow them in Seva was stunning. It also seemed to prove Harue’s theory. Why go to all that trouble unless to ensure the wilders in the Godking’s army could activate their powers? Soldiers needed to train, after all.

  “But if it’s a chemical process, as you say,” Kate asked, “do you have to be breathing them in all the time in order to use your magic?”

  Harue considered the question a moment, then gave a quick shake of her head. “Not all the time, no. But you would need some exposure daily.”

  “This could truly work then,” Kate said, excitement building inside her and bringing her mind into sharp focus, body tense with anticipation.

  “I wonder what else he was right about?” Harue picked up the book by Hiram the Heretic once more.

  Kate resisted giving her a good shake, certain she would lose her to the distraction of the book if she wasn’t careful. “Harue, do you think you can devise a way for me to get enough everweeps to Seva to keep my magic working?”

  Harue cocked her head, mildly intrigued by the idea. “I’m hardly skilled at growing flowers, but I suppose I can read up on it.” She returned her attention to the book, and Kate held back pressing her on the matter. That was the best she would get out of Harue, she knew. At least until she finished giving the book a thorough examination.

  But we’ve got time, Kate told herself. Corwin was married, not dead. Even still, her chest swelled with dread, a desperate worry that it might already be too late.

  The next two days passed with the slowness of a frozen lake thawing in spring, despite the activities involved in securing the maid’s position. But now, at last, Kate had access to Mirror Castle, and soon to Dal.

  Only she quickly realized that the wait wasn’t over. She spent the first three days in training, following after one of the senior servants, Betty Shaw, who painstakingly explained every duty Kate would be required to perform. When Kate insisted she knew everything there was to know about this job already, Betty still refused to turn her loose inside the castle.

  “Not until I’m certain you know your way around,” Betty said, hands on hips and her expression stern. “This is a big place, and I don’t want you using the excuse of getting lost to shirk your duties.”

  Kate chewed on the sides of her cheek to keep from replying, lest her annoyance give her away. She knew this castle better than anyone. She lived here for years and had spent hours wandering the corridors and disappearing down hidden passageways. She had half a mind to show Betty just how well she knew it, if only she could. She considered using her sway on Betty to let her go on her own, but feared what the other servants might say if they found out Kate had been given special treatment. Rumors spread too quickly for her to take that chance.

  Still, it turned out not to be wasted time. Because she was in training, Betty made sure that Kate was familiar with all the rooms—both for the royals and for the guests. Which meant that Kate soon learned where Dal was staying: a small suite at the top of Nowen Tower, with Laurent in the suite across from him. She should’ve guessed. Nowen Tower was set apart from the rest of the living quarters, and often used to house unwanted guests, those likely to be troublesome or who were simply less important than others.

  It was also a stroke of good luck. As the new maid, Kate’s first assignment, when she was finally sent off on her own, was to clean the rooms in Nowen Tower. She started at the top, letting herself into Dal’s room right away. She would’ve known it was his even if Betty hadn’t told her the day before—his pet falcon, Lir, was in the room, resting on a perch inside her massive cage. Kate greeted the bird with her magic, glad to see she was alive and well. She probed her thoughts, learning what she could about Dal. There was nothing in Lir’s memory to alarm her though.

  Relieved, Kate set about her duties. As she finished, she slid a note beneath Dal’s pillow, placing it in such a way that, according to Signe, he would be sure to find it. Meet me here tomorrow at ten, it read. She’d signed it with just her initials, hoping it would be enough. She would’ve liked to have him meet her and the others back at the Blue Haven, but she couldn’t risk it. Dal was sure to be followed everywhere he went.

  When she returned the next day, she stopped outside the door, using her magic to determine if Dal was alone. Then she pushed open the door, slid through, and closed it again. She spotted him next to the window, looking down at the city far below. He turned at her entry, frowning in confusion. Quickly, Kate pulled the magestone from her ear. The moment the spell broke, revealing her true face, a smile lit his features.

  “Kate!” Dal rushed to greet her, wrappi
ng his arms around her waist and hoisting her into the air. “Gods, I’ve missed you.” He set her down again. “But what in the three hells are you doing here?”

  She waved off his glare. “Shhhh, before someone hears you.”

  “What, up here?” Dal snorted, the old scars running down the side of his face from brow to chin turning the gesture into a grimace. “We’re more likely to be overheard in the dungeons.”

  Kate supposed he had a point. There weren’t even guards posted at his door. Instead, they were stationed at the bottom of the staircase, the only way out of the cramped tower.

  “But what are you doing here?” Dal said, his voice more restrained than before.

  Quickly, Kate told him everything that had happened: about the doll carved in his likeness, the fire, and their decision to leave Farhold despite Raith’s orders.

  “Signe is here, too?” Dal said, when Kate finished. There was a hitch in his voice, like a promise waiting to be spoken.

  Kate nodded. “She’s at the—a nearby inn.” She corrected herself at the last moment, distrusting what Dal might attempt with the information. He could be as headstrong as Signe. “She desperately wants to see you, but we couldn’t figure out a way to sneak her in.” There was no way to disguise her limp, and as unfair as it was, Kate knew that Edwin’s people would likely never hire someone with that kind of condition as a servant.

  “Is she all right then?” Dal said, again with that hitch in his voice.

  “She’s fine, same as she’s been, at least. But what do you make of the doll? The package had your handwriting on it, I’m certain.”

  Thinking it over, Dal scratched idly at his cheek, where he’d been attempting to grow a beard, it seemed—without much success. “I did send her a package a few weeks ago, but there was a wax rose inside, not a Dal doll.” His confusion quickly turned to concern. “You shouldn’t have let Signe come here, though, Kate. It’s not safe.”

  “Like I could stop her. You know how she is. But what has you so worried?”

  Dal glanced around the room, as if suddenly afraid someone might be listening in. “The Hellgate. They’ve been mining it.”

  “I know. Raith told me before we left. He was concerned I might go there.” She didn’t need to add the part about searching for Rendborne. Dal would already know. “But what are they looking for?”

  “Not more drakes this time, that much I know.” Dal raked his hand through his hair. “It hasn’t been easy getting information when I’m watched night and day.”

  “How have you been doing it then?”

  A wry grin pranced across Dal’s face. “My little rats.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Street kids, urchins. I pay them for information. You’d be surprised what they can find out when properly motivated.”

  Kate shook her head, dismayed, though not entirely surprised. “Where have you been getting the coin?”

  He winked. “Gaming, of course.”

  “Gambling, you mean.” Kate waved it off. It didn’t matter to her where Dal was getting the money so long as he didn’t get himself hurt or in trouble. “If not drakes, then what?”

  The good humor fled his face. “I don’t know. One of my rats said they’re calling it Hellsteel.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.” But it couldn’t be good. Nothing good ever came from there.

  “Me either. It sounds like some kind of special ore. But that’s not even the most worrisome part.” He paused, fixing a dark look on her. “The Furen Mag are here, overseeing the mining. And the Arch Mother, as they call her, well . . . I think she’s Signe mother.”

  For a second, his words failed to make sense in Kate’s mind. Although she loved Signe like a sister, her past was so shrouded in mystery that Kate had long ago decided her friend had sprung into being fully grown, rather than through any ordinary birth and childhood. “Why do you think that?”

  “Well, she looks just like her, for one thing. For another, her real name is Synnove Leth.”

  Synnove. Kate remembered Signe’s fear of the woman. What did it mean, her mother being here? She didn’t know, but it seemed Raith’s suspicions might’ve been correct, that the doll was a trap meant for Signe. For a second, panic threatened, but then Kate remembered that Signe was wearing a disguise, same as her. “I’ve got to warn her, but we need to talk about Corwin.”

  Dal scowled. “I’ve heard the ridiculous rumors.”

  “They’re not rumors,” Kate said, trying to keep her voice even. She told him about the false uror sign.

  Shock lit across Dal’s features, but before he could respond, a knock sounded on the door. “Dal, are you in there? We’re due in the king’s antechamber.” It was Laurent, the other wilder ambassador. Kate didn’t know him well, certainly not enough to trust him with these secrets. Quickly, she slid the magestone earring back in place while Dal let out a curse.

  “Just a moment,” he called, then in a lower voice said to Kate, “Meet me tonight at the Horned Crow. It’s where I usually game, but not this evening. Instead I’ll drink and make merry with the womenfolk.” He winked again, for a moment appearing like his old mischievous self, but his voice shook as he added, “Bring Signe with you.”

  Kate nodded, frustrated by the short time they’d had and the lack of progress, but it would have to do for now. She would use the time in between to come up with a better way to talk, a safer way.

  Once Dal left, she made the bed and finished her other chores, all the while her thoughts on the Hellgate and the Furen Mag. It was a welcome distraction from worrying over Corwin. She recalled all the sleeping quarters she’d seen with Betty. Not one of them had belonged to the sisterhood, which meant they weren’t staying in the castle. She should’ve asked Dal if he knew where they could be, but it was too late. No matter, she would learn the truth soon enough. In the meantime, she needed to warn Signe.

  But when Kate returned to the Blue Haven after the workday ended, Signe was nowhere to be found. No one had seen her go. No one knew where she went, not even Wen, who seemed to observe everything. Kate searched for her, using her magic, to no avail.

  “She’s probably fine,” Tira said as they were forced to halt the search. With night approaching, they needed to meet Dal soon. “It’s unlikely someone recognized her with the magestone disguise.”

  “Not unless she had a reason to take it out,” Kate replied. She couldn’t help but wonder if Signe had known her mother was in the city. If she had, maybe she had sought her out. Curse this Seerah business, Kate thought, her insides eaten up with worry for her friend.

  “Signe is cunning. She can take care of herself.”

  “She’s also reckless.”

  Tira laughed. “I think you two have that in common. But come on. Maybe she’s with Dal even as we speak.”

  Kate clung to this hope as they made their way to the Horned Crow, but a quick scan of the place revealed no sign of Signe, disguised or otherwise. They found Dal, though, leaning against the far side of the bar in his usual place. He always picked a spot near the door in case he needed to make a quick escape.

  Kate sidled up next to him and ordered a drink. It took all her effort to appear like an ordinary barroom patron here to relax when inside she felt like a bowstring pulled too taut. At least the place was packed, the air smelling of beer and bodies and vibrating with the roar of dozens of voices. “Has our foreign friend been here?” she said to Dal, afraid of mentioning Signe’s name aloud.

  He lowered his cup slowly, as nonchalant as ever. Except for the white of his knuckles. “No. I haven’t seen her at all yet. What happened?”

  “When I got back to the inn she was just gone.”

  Dal took another drink, spilling half of it down the front of his shirt. “Think, Kate,” he said, wiping it off. “Has there been anyone following you? Anyone asking questions? Anyone—”

  “For goddess sake, Dal, no. You know how careful I am. She probably just—” Kate broke off at the sound of a comm
otion by the door, one loud enough to halt the conversations. With an instinct honed by war, Kate spun around, her magic at the ready.

  Norgard soldiers had burst into the room, swords drawn. Of all the bad luck. Why did they have to raid the place right now? Irritated, she reached out with her magic, determined to change their minds, but before she could, the room erupted in a blinding white light and a noise like the world breaking in half. The flash stones—ones twice as powerful as any she’d seen—knocked her back, along with everyone else in the room. Her head smacked the floor as she landed, and her vision went to black.

  When she came to, she was lying on her back with shackles around her wrists and ankles. She reached for her magic only to find it wasn’t there, a magestone collar encircling her throat, the stones softly glowing. With a surge of panic, Kate touched her ear to find her magestone disguise had been removed. They were after me. Fear of her and her magic was the only reason they would’ve used flash stones on their own people. Dread thudded in her chest as footsteps echoed nearby, and a figure stepped into view.

  “Welcome home, Kate.” Edwin Tormane leaned toward her, the gold in the thin crown he wore winking in the light of the torches in the chandelier above them. “Or should I call you the Wilder Queen?” He smiled, clearly intending the title as an insult.

  Kate’s mind spun. How could they have known she would be here? She couldn’t make sense of it, not at first. But all too soon rough hands pulled her to her feet, and she understood. Dal was there, also in chains. So was Tira.

  And Signe.

  She shook her head at Kate, tears in her eyes. I’m sorry, Signe mouthed, and Kate’s heart sank at the admission. Somehow, someway, Signe had been found out, her magestone disguise removed. Kate looked away, gaze drawn to Edwin, who had come to stand before her now.

  He reached into a pocket and withdrew a long, flat magestone. The marks on it glowed brightly, like captured sunlight. Raising the stone to his lips, Edwin spoke into it, but rather than a word of invocation, he gave a command, talking as if someone else were listening.