Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
“Zuzu!” Xavier was delighted. “Your powers are developing at last!”
“And it’s water, not fire.” The murmur came from one of the prince’s personal guards, and Alina’s lips twitched at the relief in his voice.
“Just like you said, Alina.” Xavier turned to her, impressed. “You were right.”
The anzu preened under all the attention, ruffling up her wings, then twisting around to clean her fur with her tongue, right at the point where it transitioned into feathers.
“I’m glad she’s progressing,” Xavier said, prodding the roast pheasant on his plate with a fork. “But I’m not glad she’s basically vomited on my food.”
Alina laughed. “Don’t be so fastidious, Your Highness. Water produced by an anzu is just regular water. It’s perfectly safe to drink, so there’s no reason you can’t eat your food.”
“First of all, you can’t call me Your Highness while insulting me,” Xavier pointed out. “It’s indecent of you.”
“To most of us, fastidious isn’t an insult,” Alina informed him. “And calling you Your Highness is the opposite of indecent.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” He leaned a little closer than was comfortable in front of so many witnesses. “It’s all in the tone. I’ve heard many a Your Highness that would make even a hardened soldier blush.”
“That may be,” Alina said, somehow having to fight back both a laugh and the heat trying to climb up her neck. “But you’ll have no success trying to convince me I was straying into that territory. Your Highness.” She added the last two words as blandly as possible.
Xavier laughed. “Not yet, but I’ll break you eventually. There must be some limit past which even you will be scandalized, Alina. But to return to the point, I’m not convinced that eating this food won’t cause me to be vilely ill.”
“It will be fi—”
Alina’s words were cut off by another, more violent, hacking from the anzu. She seized a napkin, ready to wipe up any excess of water, but this time, it was a large and slobbery fur ball that Zuzu deposited right onto her beloved benefactor’s food.
“You were saying?” Xavier prompted Alina politely.
This time she didn’t hold the laugh back. “My mistake. It looks like you’ll have to order a new meal.”
“Actually, my appetite is gone,” Xavier said, watching with a pained expression as the anzu hiccuped out a small stream of water on top of the fur ball. After sniffing at the whole concoction, Zuzu began to nibble at some of the pheasant.
“She’s starting solids!” Alina said in an encouraging tone.
“I’m delighted for her.” Xavier didn’t sound delighted. “For myself, I think I’ll call it a day.”
The group began to rise at the words, Alina finishing her own food as quickly as good manners would allow.
She was eating at the crown’s expense, and she didn’t intend to waste the opportunity.
A few others took a little longer to finish eating, and Alina found herself standing around with the prince and a few companions as conversation flowed from serious to mundane matters, everyone more relaxed after a good feed.
The inn was fairly busy, and lots of other patrons filled the space with noise as well.
“Did His Highness say that you guessed what Zuzu’s powers would be?” Charles asked Alina.
She smiled at the servant. He was the only one other than the prince who used the anzu’s name, and she liked him for it.
“Yes, I could sense it from her movements.”
“That’s impressive,” Charles said admiringly. “You must have a very attuned sense of magic.”
“I don’t know if I’d say very attuned,” Alina said ruefully. “I’ve always had a bit of a knack for it, but my efforts are usually pretty clumsy because I was never formally trained.”
“Why not?” Xavier joined the conversation so abruptly, Alina started.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you study at the Craftsman’s Guild?” Like you vowed you would. She could hear the silent addition.
“I was going to,” she said, her voice quiet. “But after my family’s circumstances changed, my father told me in no uncertain terms that it was off the table. There was no money for the fees.”
The prince’s handsome features were marred by a frown. “What about after he died?” he asked.
The curt question had Charles shifting in discomfort. The servant could obviously tell there was some background he was missing. He’d discreetly bowed out of the conversation.
“There was still no money,” Alina said, struggling to keep her tone polite. “Obviously.”
“But you could have applied for a scholarship,” Xavier said. “You could have asked…friends for help.”
She stared at him. Friends? What friends? Did he mean himself? She tried to imagine how that would have gone and found herself incapable of picturing it.
“I had no means of getting to the guild to apply for a scholarship,” she said. “Even if I’d thought I had enough skill for one, which I didn’t. Besides which, I didn’t want to return to the capital.”
“Of course not.” Xavier still spoke in that emotionless tone, and Alina could think of nothing else to say.
Fortunately, Zuzu chose that moment to claw her way out of the pocket which she was really growing too large for, climbing up Xavier’s shoulder with a considerable amount of complaint.
“The talons, Zuzu,” Xavier grumbled, but without heat.
“It will be much easier for you to get around once you learn to fly,” Alina told the anzu. “If you’re ready to eat solids and spout water, surely you’re ready to use your wings.”
She gave the bird a little prod, which Zuzu protested with a loud mewl. Since she accompanied the noise with an angry flapping of her wings, Alina clapped encouragingly.
“That’s it! Keep flapping them.”
“She’ll get there in her own time,” Xavier said, the hardness from before thankfully gone. “No need to rush her.”
“Nonsense.” Alina spoke briskly. “She just needs to keep working at it. That’s it, Zuzu, keep flapping.”
“Perhaps she’s overwhelmed by all the noise in here,” Charles suggested. “It’s a chaotic environment for such a little thing.”
“You might be right,” Alina conceded. “Keep flapping, Zuzu, that’s good. You’re generating lots of powerful Dust, let’s see if I can use it to help you out.”
She pulled on the magic flowing freely from Zuzu’s wings. It was stronger and more concentrated than movement from normal animals, and she had to fight not to let the sensation go to her head. It was wonderful.
She cast the magic out from herself, concentrating as she did so on the anzu’s slightly frantic energy, the agitation of its movements and the volume of its complaints.
Inverting it in her mind, it wasn’t hard to direct the power.
A muffling blanket settled over the area she’d selected, so that all noise from outside the small circle became softened and indistinct.
“There now,” she crooned to the bird. “Isn’t that better? Much easier to focus.”
The anzu did seem to be calmer, turning her head to the side, and experimenting with more controlled movements of her wings. Alina kept drawing on the Dust produced by these movements, channeling it more carefully to prolong the muffling.
“Careful,” Xavier said warningly. “My sense of magic isn’t as good as yours, but I can still tell that you’re maintaining it with your own energy. Don’t overdo it.”
“I’m fine,” Alina said dismissively. “Plenty of energy left in me.”
“You’re a handy person to have around,” Charles said, impressed. “I’ve often thought it’s such a shame magic can’t be stored. But having a skilled craftsman around is the next best thing, isn’t it?”
Alina agreed with him, although she was distracted by Xavier’s demeanor. The prince had shot a quick look at Charles when he spoke of magic, his expression strange.
“Your Highness.” The man who’d approached was the team member who’d been stationed in Alton before the rest of the group.
He spoke to the prince, but his eyes were on Alina.
“Just be cautious. The muffling effect doesn’t work both ways.
Those outside the circle can still hear us, and I saw quite a few looking your way when you were discussing this young lady’s skill with magic.
It makes her conspicuous in a way we likely don’t want.
Folks around here are keeping quiet about their magic skills. ”
Alina nodded in acknowledgment, although most of her focus was still on Zuzu. Xavier, however, seemed more troubled by the warning. He nodded his thanks to the man, then laid a hand on Alina’s arm.
“That’s enough.”
She let the Dust drop from her awareness, startled by the sudden contact. Her eyes traveled from the prince’s hand to his face, unsure what to make of the instinctive way she’d obeyed his command.
“Anyway,” she said, flustered, “if you want my advice, it won’t help to coddle Zuzu. The sooner she learns to fly, the better.”
“I’m her chosen imprinted mentor,” Xavier said with a wounded tone. “If I wish to coddle her, I will. And I won’t let anyone pester her, not even a woman of such devastating charm as yourself.”
Alina shook her head, although she couldn’t hold back a smile.
The overblown compliment she had no difficulty ignoring.
It was the prince’s softness toward his pet that amused her.
The thought occurred to her that he would likely be a fond, borderline indulgent, father.
But she pushed it away quickly, sensing it was unwise to dwell on the image.
“Coddling her won’t help her,” she insisted. “Zuzu will do best if she can be tough enough to manage on her own. Come on, Zuzu.”
She gave the bird a little push, causing her to flap off Xavier’s shoulder. Zuzu fell, but it wasn’t a total plummet. She flapped her wings, mewling frantically all the time, and the descent was slow enough to almost be called a flight.
“Well done!” Alina clapped her hands, shooting a look of triumph at Xavier. “Want to try again?”
“No, she doesn’t,” Xavier said, indignant. He scooped the creature up, pinning her against his side with one arm. “Don’t be so interfering, Alina.”
“My apologies, Your Highness.”