CHAPTER NINETEEN
ON ONE LITTLE ISLAND in the Vauxterel chain, Fraser found a horror and made a home.
That’s where he was hiding for all these years.
From Ozora’s personal journal.
“I doubt any Cilirians escaped that night to land in Hastrior,” Taenya mused. “Are you sure?” she asked.
Fraser tossed his head and pointed at me. “She is. I don’t know what I saw.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I insisted. It really was, but no one would agree with me. Cleobah rolled her eyes but, for once, kept silent. “The Cilirians have to be here already to have planted these sigils around the city. So either they’ve been here, or some escaped.”
“I mean, I hear what you’re saying.” Right away, I could tell she didn’t believe it.
“How though? The only possible Cilirians that might have survived were those at Emberglen who were already ashore. It’s possible some escaped into the surrounding countryside, but even then, how would they get to Hastrior to plant these sigils?
Mayhem’s guards have had the Solar Gate closed for weeks. ”
“I know! When you say it like that—” I interrupted, but it didn’t stop her.
“Also, why sneak in a Cilirian mage to plant a little sigil in the city? How even? What could it possibly do?” She raised both hands, as if trying to throw away the very idea.
“Cilirians weren’t known for subterfuge.
They wouldn’t sneak into a place. They arrived with armies and mages from day one.
Never mind that the Solar Gate is the only way in or out by land, and we’ve been patrolling the entire peninsula for weeks now and seen nothing. ”
Cassyrra backed her up. ++ A valid point. Without seeing the sigil, I could not say. ++ The dragon was the only one there who had seen Cilirian magic.
“Might be a tight fit in that street.” Fraser turned to where the dragon stretched her long length out in the grass, answering her silent statement aloud.
“The sigils are real enough,” he added. “One of them landed on me, and Ozora burned it off.” I glanced down at my plate to hide my rush of gratitude at his unsought support, along with my blush when a tingle rippled across my lips in memory of the pressure of his tasting mine.
“Otherwise, you’d be looking at one right now,” he finished, taking another bite to signal he was done.
Taenya, Fraser, and I sat under a tent in the fields west of the keep.
The only rooms within it that were fit to live in were already occupied.
When the former occupants, the Prince’s Royal Army and Cavalry, abandoned it, a few of the house staff remained.
They tended their own rooms, but the rest of it had suffered under five years of neglect.
The stone walls were strong as ever, but cleanup was a slow process.
Cassyrra and Taenya had informed the residents they intended to claim the keep for the school. Between the DeLange name, and the dragon, the remaining staff had no objections, rather, they were thrilled to have the castle restored to use.
We opted for tent living outside when we found a collection of them in storage.
We found linens, pillows, furniture, and more in several magically locked and thus untouched storage rooms that the housekeeper showed us.
The contents of these storage rooms transformed the tents and hard-packed ground underfoot.
Instead of simple cots and dirt floors, our quarters were plush, luxurious even.
Paradise! With the keep between us and the city and Cassyrra, we slept peacefully and safely.
None of the crime lords of the streets or their lackeys dared approach.
Grace, the chef’s wife, came out of the keep, carrying a platter with a collection of meats and cheeses. Her children followed, carrying more pitchers of water and ale. We all thanked her as they set the food and drink on the table.
That any staff remained was a miracle and a blessing for us.
We were all grateful the head chef and housekeeper had remained, along with their spouses and children.
They were grateful to have fresh supplies and new workers, as were the few footmen and stable hands who’d also stayed.
These were folks with no other place to go.
They’d formed a little community, keeping each other safe while the city deteriorated, and none of them wanted to argue with a dragon Adept who politely inquired if they would like jobs at her new mage school.
“I doubt we could fit you anywhere in the city proper, love.” Taenya chuckled, and Cassyrra rumbled, her draconic version remarkably similar to Taenya’s, if much deeper in pitch. “So we’ll have to just—”
“I can show you the spell. That’s easy enough,” I cut Taenya off.
I couldn’t take this dithering any more.
With a flourish, I cast up a glamour that showed the sigil, as if I were drawing it on a piece of paper.
If Cassyrra needed to see it to determine if it was Cilirian or not, I’d make that happen.
The image wavered in the air, a delicate glyph of curling lines, slashes, and dots drawn in a circular pattern.
It glittered bright and hard, like a well-honed razor, and drawing it with my numin seemed to slice my fingertips.
I had to glance at them to ensure they didn’t drip blood, and was reassured they were whole.
Even in replica, it throbbed with power. As if showing its image caused some odd echo effect between me and the original caster.
Interesting. Maybe that could be a way to locate the mystery mage. The strange sigil flexed and glinted. Cassyrra raised her head and snarled. Cleobah looked at me curiously, her golden eyes gone hard.
++ Take it down. Now! ++ The dragon yelled, her inner voice drowning out whatever the sphinx had said. Cleobah’s lips moved, forming the same command, except...
I don’t want to.
Even as a copy, the sigil was pretty and alluring. If I looked closely enough, I might figure out the elf who’d cast it.
Isn’t that what we need to do? A silent hiss in my ear, and that odd echo grew stronger. Something within the sigil’s graceful curves and lines called to me, invited me to solve its riddles. Echoes became whispers that wanted to tell me their secrets.
I could almost understand them.
++NOW!++ Cassyrra’s roar wasn’t just in my head.
It rattled the tent poles and broke my concentration, powered by the dragon’s anger and a brush of her numin.
The sigil vanished with a pop and scattering of tiny bright shards.
Spell remnants disintegrated into nothingness as she banished the image of the sigil and sealed off the thread of my numin.
My energies bounced back to me with a rebuking snap, and I pressed my lips together in shame and looked away. She’d banished my glamour like I was some ill-trained apprentice who couldn’t control her own spells.
“Cilirian looking to trap the unwary, and he almost caught you both.” Cleobah’s long tail lashed, betraying her agitation despite her placid demeanor.
Reality crashed in as my wits returned in the uneasy silence.
I’d been caught in the sigil’s luring spell even though it was just a replica, not an original casting.
I’d also somehow drawn the elf’s attention to us, a terrible idea considering the Cilirians had just tried to invade, and we were the ones who’d stopped them.
An uneasy twinge in my gut became a sinking sensation when I realized I’d felt that echo, that connection, which meant the caster was still alive. Not at the bottom of the sea as Fraser and Cassyrra had claimed. But I didn’t know how to convince Cassyrra that my feeling was right.
“I’ve—I’ve never seen that before. Never knew just a glamoured image of a spell could link back.
..” My voice trailed off, but I found it again.
“I’m so sorry. I just thought to make things easier.
..” I didn’t know how to give voice to my concern, that the mage still lived and was there in Hastrior, so I turned my attention to my food.
Perhaps Cassyrra sensed it, too. I consoled myself; the dragon must have also felt the attention of the caster, and that’s why she broke my spell.
Couldn’t help feeling guilty still; I should’ve been more suspicious after seeing it hop onto Fraser.
Except, never had merely showing a spell’s image caused that sort of linkage.
It shouldn’t have been possible. I’d done such glamours as a demonstration for apprentices many times.
None of my rationalizations eased my shame. I’d been so wrong and put us all in danger. Remorse made me want to creep away, and my belly cramped, ruining my appetite. I wasn’t ready for this, not if something as simple as an image-glamour spell could have such potent, far-reaching effects.
My next bites were awkward, and tasted of ash. Trying to stifle the hopelessness that washed over me, I lifted my head to catch a brief gust of wind that blew along the shore.
Summer breezes brought the scents of wildflowers and salt, sweeping away my glamour’s lingering energies. The atmosphere lifted, but only fractionally. I looked over at my private tent across the field with longing, weighing whether I could slink away.
++ They craft them to capture all. The powerful fall under their sway as easily as the weak. ++ This time, I knew Cassyrra’s gentle words were just for me. ++ There is no shame. Now you know their power and pull. Now you can guard against them. ++
I would have to. There was no running from this. If I wanted the Adept training Cassyrra promised, I had to stay, which meant confronting all of Hastrior’s woes.
“Where did you see that?” Cleobah asked. I pulled my gaze from the slices of ham, turkey, and cheese on my plate. “That sigil?” she asked. “Where did you see it?”
“A tavern. We saw others on the way back, too.”
Fraser coughed but said nothing.
++ Again, to what purpose? ++ Cassyrra mused. ++ Why send spies and plant luring spells when the emperor could send fleets and armies? ++
“Unless he can’t?” Fraser tapped his lips, as if unsure he wanted to give voice to his question. “What if the emperor’s ability is now reduced to subterfuge instead of overwhelming might?”
His suggestion sounded ridiculous, but Cleobah didn’t laugh. Taenya’s gaze drifted to Cassyrra with that blank expression that meant they were talking privately.
++ Why do you say that, Fraser? ++ Cassyrra asked.
She shuffled her wings and shifted, swinging her head round to peer at all of us.
Her cat-like pupils flexed, widening and narrowing as she peered into the tent; her head didn’t fit under the canopy because of the long, curving horns on her skull.
Heat radiated off her indigo hide, rolling over us like a wave as her bulk blocked the onshore breeze.
Fraser lifted his shoulders and shook his head. “No one ever said the emperor was stupid. Look what spending his ships and armies like they’d never run out won him last time.”
He made a point. One I hadn’t considered.
“What if, after all these years, the emperor figured out an easier way to take over? One that didn’t use up entire armies?”
Dammit! I hated to admit this.
“You might be onto something.” I had to unclench my jaw so I wouldn’t bite off the words. An idea popped into my head. It wasn’t the craziest one I’d had, but it was something.
“We need to know what the sigils do, but shouldn’t we also look at where they are?
I think we need to search the city and find all of them,” I said.
Fraser’s mouth thinned, and his brow furrowed; he already didn’t like the idea.
I’d have to think of some way to convince him because Cassyrra and Taenya both nodded in agreement, and if we didn’t figure this out, we’d lose for sure to the invading elves.