“You’re such a cynical young woman.”
“I’m going to the market.” Rotiaqua had no desire to have this conversation again. Odray often chided her about how cynical and stubborn she was.
“I’ll get the guards.”
“No guards. I have something else in mind and don’t try to stop me. Today is the last day of my freedom. Tomorrow, everyone will know who I am. Today, I am but a stranger in a crowd.”
“I don’t like it.”
“It’s my last chance.”
“What if something happens to you?”
“It won’t. Who cares about a strange girl in the market?”
“I still don’t like it.”
“You worry overly much. I’ve made plans,” Rotiaqua said. “Under the bed, there is a box. I made a trade for it. I’ve been waiting for just the right moment, and this is it. I’m going to enjoy the last day of freedom, even if it kills me.” She jumped from the bed and retrieved the box. “I acquired the apparel from the son of a trader. A foolish and impulsive boy. I dared him to prove his loyalty to me by stealing his own sister’s clothes. The task, he claimed, was overly simple because the girl had more clothes than she could possibly keep track of.”
The ride from the estate to town was long and filled with anxiety. Rotiaqua was never allowed out on her own, and more often than not, when she wished for something, one of her guards or escorts was sent to fetch it. Going to the market on her own was an act of pure defiance. It raised gooseflesh on her arms just thinking about it.
She entered the town without notice, located a suitable place to stable her mount, and headed off to see how the common folk lived. She chose the more affluent sectors of the market, a sprawling complex of stalls and temporary booths that sprang up overnight on market day, and vanished just as quickly as the next. The city gates were left wide open. The breeze carried the scent of salt from the Eastern Sea, where the ships docked that brought exotic goods from far-off lands.
Today, she had the feeling things are going to be different. On most occasions, when she had visited the poorer sections of the market, she found it depressing. With nothing but gold coins in her purse, she had been unable to make so much as a single purchase. At least here, the merchants were accustomed to dealing with clientele who carried gold.
The air carried the scent of roasting nuts and grilling meat. The bittersweet pungent aroma stirred a hunger in her for more than the taste of a pastry or a meat pie. Rotiaqua loved being out among the people who frequented the market. Everyone had their own story, and every one, their own joys and pains. Rotiaqua settled into a small cafe that served a passable mug of tea. She sipped the tea and picked at a sweet-meat pie, separating a tiny chunk of crust and placing it on her tongue. She held it there until it softened and the flavor spread throughout her mouth.
A pair of merchants sat at the table near her. Their accents made their conversation hard to follow. She turned an ear and leaned in casually as if bored by the whole idea of spending time in the market.
“I being stuck here for half a moon,” the first merchant said. “The winds shifted a bit early in the season and they’re not expected to shift again for a bit. Not that I be minding the city, but the sea is where I really want to be. This place is being too crowded for my blood.”
“What cargo you carry?” the second merchant asked. “Grains? Wood?”
“Livestock. It being the most profitable trade item we being able to find.”
“Swine? Hate those beasts, I do.”
“No, dragons. Mini-dragons. Called auguahilti in their native land. Look sort of like a weasel with horns.”
“They fly?”
“Aye, and they be mean as anything you ever seen. Vicious little beasties. Take your finger off if you being careless.”
“Buy such a thing, who would?”
“I don’t be knowing, but the woman who be buying them from us is just down that way.” He gestured down the aisle where Rotiaqua had planned to head. “She be keeping them secret like no one should be knowing they be there. Have to be asking her to show them to you before she being showing them.”
“Strange some folks are.” The second merchant shook his head.
Rotiaqua sat up. A mini-dragon? What sort of beast was it? Did it have magic? Was it related to a true dragon? She dropped a gold on the table without waiting for the server to return with change and rushed off to find the merchant who sold such exotic animals.
Not far from the cafe, Rotiaqua found the tent that she sought. Poles of deep red wood supported a canopy of intricately woven rugs.
Standing in the shadows was a woman. Neither old nor young, she was at that age where the flush of youth had passed but the decay of age had yet to impinge. She wore a scarf of brilliant red. One of her earrings was a small cage that contained a cricket that chirped as Rotiaqua entered the tent.
“Good afternoon, honored miss. What do you seek?” the woman asked.
“Auguahilti?” Rotiaqua tried to remember the pronunciation.
“We have no such thing.”
“I have heard you do. The auguahilti comes from a far-off land, and a shipment has arrived just this day.” Rotiaqua took a step toward the woman, trying to muster up as much courage as she could. Having to crane her neck to look up into the woman’s eyes made such a task even more difficult.
“So you say.”
“So I know.”
The woman stared her down, but she refused to budge.
After a hand of heartbeats, the woman shrugged. “The girl knows what she wants, then.” She turned and headed into the darkness of the tent. She paused at a thick curtain that separated the front from the rear and reached down to lift it out of the way.
“Prepare yourself. The auguahilti are fickle beasts. If they take a liking to you, they will let you know immediately. If not…” She paused. “Well, best not to get too close.”
“I’m not afraid,” Rotiaqua lied.
“You should be.” The woman ducked and entered, holding the curtain until Rotiaqua entered, then let it fall, plunging them into darkness.
“In a moment, you will be able to see,” the woman said.
“I can already see,” Rotiaqua said. And indeed she could. Arranged along the far wall, a triple row of cages held an array of strange animals. A lizard with wings hissed at her from one of the cages. A two-headed snake hissed in response, but it was the cage by her feet that caught her eye.
Inside was an animal that looked not unlike a mink or a weasel. Its lithe body was covered in slick fur, but the short curled horns on its head told her that this was the animal she sought. She pointed to the cage. “How much for this one?”
“Has it chosen you?”
“How would I know?” Rotiaqua squatted down to look into the cage.
“Careful. They spit poison if they are startled.”
“This one won’t.” Rotiaqua reached to the cage and slipped a finger between the bars.
The animal moved across the cage, its tongue extending to lick her fingers. The tongue was split like a snake’s, and wet, yet rough, as if it had tiny barbs on it.
“It likes me,” Rotiaqua said.
“Indeed. It appears to.”
“How much?” Rotiaqua grasped the purse she kept tied to her belt. “I can pay whatever you ask.”
“Two golds,” the woman said.
“Done.”
“Sorry, I meant three golds. I was thinking of the snake.” The woman pointed to the two-headed snake.
Rotiaqua stared at the woman. She wouldn’t pay it. How dare the scoundrel try to swindle her out of an extra gold? As she turned to leave, the image of the auguahilti invaded her mind with thoughts of how soft its fur was and how much it wanted to go home with her. It was as if the beastie was sending these thoughts her way.
She drew a breath, ready to argue, and decided against it.
She counted out the coins, dropping them into the woman’s hand. “Still done,” Rotiaqua said
. “Here.”
The woman glanced down at her hand and appeared to be about to raise her price once more.
Rotiaqua gave her a look to let her know she realized the woman had taken advantage of her, and it stopped now.
“It’s yours,” the woman said. “Take care. Keep it hidden from view.”
“I’ll be careful.” Rotiaqua opened the cage and the creature leaped out, landing on her shoulder. It licked her ear and purred like a kitten. “See. Friends already,” she said.
“Keep it out of sight.”
“Fine.” Rotiaqua opened her robe and nudged the beastie with her head. “Come on. I’ll keep you hidden while I take you home.”
The beast must have understood her. It slithered down her arm and came to rest beneath her robe, settling in as if it belonged there. “I can see we’re going to be great friends, you and I.”
“Yes. You are.” The woman lifted the curtain, letting the sunlight in. “Thank you for your patronage, and if someone asks where you acquired that, do not tell them you purchased it here. I don’t need any trouble.”
“I’ll remember.” Rotiaqua ducked her head and stepped from the tent into the now busy market. As she made her way back to the castle, the animal secreted beneath her robe fidgeted but eventually settled down. Its breathing slowed and soon gentle snores came from beneath the folds.
6
It had been a moon since Rotiaqua acquired the auguahilti, and so far, she had managed to keep it hidden from everyone but Odray. The beast was most intelligent and responded to verbal requests. Requests, not commands. Commands to the beastie were always met with defiance. The animal would perch itself where it could stare at her and glare, its tiny horns emitting wisps of smoke, eyes smoldering with a golden light. On one occasion, she was certain she had heard it speak. Rotiaqua swore the animal had proclaimed its name was Nen’ai and that it was a noble among its own tribe. When Rotiaqua expressed her astonishment, an image formed in her mind of the sleek-furred animal sitting on a throne holding a scepter and wearing a golden crown on its head. When she turned to look at the beastie, it wore a broad smile and purred like a contented kitten.
Today, it perched on the window overlooking the market. The first time the beastie escaped, Rotiaqua had cried for half a day, but when it later returned, it snuggled against her, purring like a kitten. From then on, she allowed it its freedom, and it always returned.
“You see anything interesting in the market?” Rotiaqua sat on the bed while Odray fussed with her wardrobe, arranging clothes for the state dinner Rotiaqua was to attend.
“You know that thing can’t talk,” Odray said. “It’s just an animal.”
“I think it’s more than an animal. These creatures have magic and its name is Nen’ai, not animal or creature.”
“Well, you best take Nen’ai out for a walk. I’ll not be cleaning up after anyone but you.”
“I’ll do that.” Rotiaqua stood, raised her arm, and turned her gaze to the mini-dragon. “Come here, you.”
The beastie leaped across the room and landed on her arm, its sharp claws digging in. “Let’s see what sort of evening it is outside. Father is hosting some notable from the king’s staff or some such. He wanted me there, but I refused. How could I be separated from my dear Nen’ai?”
Before Rotiaqua could take a step, the door burst open.
Baron Reik stood in the doorway. Dressed in formal attire, he sported a buttoned-down blue vest with a double row of gold fasteners. His trousers were gold with intricate patterns of hill flowers embroidered in blue. The trousers were tucked into glossy black leather boots that came up to his mid-calf. The sky-iron sword he wore for formal occasions was sheathed at his side.
“Daughter of mine. You will attend the ball as I have asked. This is an important event and your presence is expected. Since I have no consort, and you are my heir, it’s only fitting that you attend these functions.”
“Father, I’m not interested in matters of state.”
He pointed at her arm. “What’s that?”
“It’s my pet. It’s an auguahilti, a mini-dragon.”
The beastie must have sensed her anxiousness. It spit fire at the baron, singing his blue vest.
The baron swiftly crossed the room to face Rotiaqua down. He drew his sword and swung at the auguahilti. “You little monster.”
The creature ducked, but not fast enough.
The sword slid off the tip of one of its horns and sliced through its shoulder.
An agonizing cry echoed off the walls as the auguahilti tightened its grip on Rotiaqua’s arm.
She spun, trying to put herself between her father and her pet.
The baron reached around her with his naked blade, slicing through the beastie’s other shoulder.
Fire erupted in Rotiaqua’s arm.
The auguahilti had been hit.
It dug its claws into her flesh.
Only then did Rotiaqua realize her arm had been cut as well. The pain of the sword strike merged with the needle-like talons ripping at her flesh. The blood of the animal ran down her arm, washing over the gash in her flesh. It felt as if molten lead was pouring into the wound. Silver sparks flashed from the creature’s blood. The sparks began circling her, spinning faster and faster until she lost her balance. She struck out with her free arm, shoving the baron back.
“You’ve killed it.”
The beastie clung tight, its blood rushing from the gash in its shoulders and washing over the wound on Rotiaqua’s arm. It let out a final scream and fell silent. The claws loosened. The blood ceased, but the silver sparkles only grew stronger. Was it the magic of the mini-dragon leaving the animal? Rotiaqua was overwhelmed by the feeling of power it gave her. It was as if she could sense the history of every stone in the wall that made up her room.
It was magic.
She glared at her father.
What she saw shook her to her core. He had always been aloof and cold, but now she saw a man who had lost his consort through his own foolishness. She knew that he avoided her because of the resemblance she bore to his lost love and the guilt that carried for him. How every time he looked at her, he was reminded how he had caused the death of her mother. It was almost too much to bear.
She dropped back to the bed and sat quietly as the room turned to pandemonium around her. She felt like there was something she should be doing, but her awareness of the situation had changed so dramatically, all she could do was to take it all in. Plenty of time to think about it later. She turned her gaze to her father and drank in his history. The magic showed her everything. She saw the moment he first met her mother, the things he had done to make her fall in love with him, and even the agony he had suffered when he lost her in childbirth.
When the magic finally subsided, it was a blessing.
The vision faded. The baron returned to his usual self, but subtly different. Rotiaqua finally understood the man who had abandoned his only daughter into the hands of court functionaries.
Her appearance might remind him of her mother, but she knew deep down that her behavior did not. That was the place to start building a bridge.
She closed her eyes and let the darkness take her.
Rotiaqua woke in the night, feeling that she was being watched. She sat bolt upright to find a small cloud of mist hovering in the air beside her bed. In the mist was the face of a young man, not much older than her. His face was thin, his nose beaklike with a bump in the middle. Sunken cheeks drew back in a smile when he caught sight of her peering into the mist.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“I am called Sulrad,” the boy said.
For he was a boy. No more than fourteen summers if her judgment of age was anything to go by. He sat on the rug in the middle of a sparsely furnished hovel. A commoner for sure, but he must have magic. How else was she able to see him?
“Are you a wizard?” she asked.
“I only just called fire.” The boy hesitated, glancing around
as if afraid of being overheard. “Who are you? Where are you? Are you a wizard?”
Rotiaqua straightened up. Who was this peasant to question her? It was not she who had employed magic to drop in on him. Best not to reveal too much until she was certain there was no harm in him. “I’m not going to tell you who I am,” she said. “Not until we know each other better.”
“Queue. What are you doing?” The voice of Odray came from the open doorway where the woman stood, candle in hand, her hair a tangled mess. “Who is that?”
“I’m just talking. It’s not hurting anything.”
“Stop that. It’s the middle of the night. Decent people are asleep.”
“Yes, Odray.” Rotiaqua turned back to the image. “I have to go.”
The boy held up his hand. “You didn’t tell me your name.”
“That’s right. I didn’t.” She reached for the sand used to quench the fire in her hearth. She grasped a handful and cast it at the image.
It vanished with a pop.
“Who was that?” Odray entered and sat on the bed.
“A boy.”
“Queue. You know what I mean.”
“There’s nothing wrong with using magic. It was only a little, and he started it. He contacted me. I didn’t do anything.”
“If your father learns what you’ve been up to, he will not be pleased.”
“I don’t care what pleases him. I am my own woman. He doesn’t own me.”
Odray shook her head. “Such an angry young woman. It suits you not.”
“I don’t care what suits me.”
“Do you not care for me?” Odray asked.
How could she ask such a thing? Odray had raised her. She was Rotiaqua’s mother in every way, save having given birth to her. How could she imagine that Rotiaqua cared not for her?
“How can you even ask such a thing?”
“Because this,” she jutted her chin at the fireplace, “will cost me my life. The baron may not kill you for using magic, but he won’t hesitate for a moment to have me burned at the stake if he learns I permitted it. Why don’t you think about that?”
The Sorceress: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Origins Book 3) Page 3