Chapter 5
I ’m not sure what I was expecting to see, but Grayson reclining in an armchair with a book in his hands was not it. Standing in the doorway, I wait for him to notice me, but when he doesn’t, I use the opportunity to look around. A wall of bookshelves takes up one side of the room, and two arched windows fill the far wall. A large fireplace dominates the wall opposite, with four armchairs situated in front of it. Although the room is full of books and furniture, it feels…empty. There are no pictures or decorations on the walls, no personal touches of any kind. The magicians don’t spend much time here, they are busy fighting on the front line or at the academy, but still... this is his home. Doesn’t he have a family or loved ones?
My eyes are once again drawn to the books on the far wall, their colourful spines calling to me. I must make a sound as Grayson glances up and follows my gaze to the bookshelf. With a ghost of a smile, he closes his own tome and pushes up from the chair, gesturing for me to come into the room.
“Do you like reading?” he inquires, watching me carefully as I step over the threshold. As I walk towards the shelves, I marvel at being able to move freely now that I’m without my chains. I shake my head as an answer to his question before returning my attention back to the books, running my finger along the leather spines. I’ve never had access to books as a slave, but I feel drawn to them. I have vague memories of someone reading to me as a child. I don’t remember who it was, or even what the stories were about, but I remember her voice. On the tough nights, the ones where my back was screaming from the lashes I’d received that day, or my feet were bleeding from walking barefoot several miles to the stone quarry, those were the nights I’d hear her voice and I’d dream about knights, damsels, and winged horses.
The room is silent and I get the feeling he’s waiting for a response. “I can’t read,” I answer with a shrug, pulling a thick book from the shelf and running my fingers over the embossed title.
“What?” His voice is shocked, and when I shoot a look over my shoulder he’s shaking his head, a thoughtful look on his face.
“I learned my letters, but I was eight when I became a slave, so…” Shrugging, I turn and place the book back on the shelf. I don’t need to explain why I never learned to read, educating the slaves isn’t exactly something the king worried about.
“You were eight? You were just a child.” I’m not sure how to respond to his soft, shocked words. Surely this isn’t news to him? He’s one of the king’s high magicians. Slaves are enemies to the kingdom, criminals who have been granted leniency from a death sentence because of our age.
Thankfully, I’m saved from answering when Jayne walks into the room with a tray full of steaming mugs. “All the slaves are children,” she tells him, not meeting my eyes as she unloads the cups onto the small table between the chairs. She’s right, the slaves are children. I’m the eldest slave, and although we don’t swap ages, I’m pretty sure that none of them are older than seventeen. Most of us don’t last longer than a year.
Jayne’s voice is carefully neutral, but I get the distinct feeling she disapproves, not that she’d admit to it. Those kinds of opinions are dangerous and you never know who’s listening. I feel the weight of Grayson’s stare, but keep my focus on the books, the conversation making me uncomfortable.
“I’ll teach you.” Turning, I gape at him open-mouthed and realise that Jayne is doing the same thing. “Everyone should be able to read,” he defends with a shrug as he walks up to the bookshelf, placing the leather bound book back onto one of the rows. Turning, he heads back to the chairs and I watch him as he takes a seat then looks up at me expectantly. Opening my mouth to ask a question, I freeze as my eyes are drawn to the small table next to him. It’s not so much the table, but what’s on it that causes ice to run through my veins and my hopes to come crashing down around me.
Chains.
I’d been stupid to think that life would be different. He promised not to kill me, he didn’t say anything about a better life. My ankles throb painfully at the thought of them being reattached. I stare at him for a moment before flickering my gaze to Jayne, who’s watching me with a pitying expression. Pushing away the sick feeling in my stomach, I drop my head and slowly walk towards him, stopping before his chair.
“What are you doing?” He sounds amused, but I stay silent, holding my position. I don’t think he’d hit me for moving, but one of the first lessons you learn as a slave is to be silent and still, and old habits are hard to break. I can hear him sitting up and leaning forward in his chair. “Opal, what’s going on…” He starts, his fingers brushing lightly against my arm, but he trails off as I flinch away from his touch.
Opal? Is he talking to me? The thoughts fly through my head in a confused rush, my hands trembling slightly at the uncertainty. Part of me is insisting I look up and refuse to ever wear those chains again. I would rather be put to death than shuffle around like a ghost. But I can’t say that. I want to live. Jayne puts down her tray and strides over to us, standing by my side. Through the veil my curtain of hair offers, I can see her cross her arms over her ample bosom. My breathing quickens, my eyes locked on the chains.
“Come on, Grayson, you’re a smart boy, use that brain the Mother gave you,” she scolds. She’s reprimanding a high magician like he’s a child, the same magician who could kill her with a snap of his fingers. She’s asking for death by speaking to him that way. However, she doesn’t seem to care. “She thinks you’re going to put those blasted chains on her.” To my amazement, Grayson cringes at her rebuke, glancing at the chains that lie on the table just to the side of him.
I can hear her talking and Grayson mumbling a response, but I’m not understanding what they’re saying. My breaths are still coming too fast as my hands and body continue to tremble. I want to be strong, I don’t want them to know how much this is affecting me, but I can’t hide it. My vision starts to blur and my head feels light, and I have to fight away the nausea that threatens to overtake me. Suddenly, my hair is brushed from my face and Grayson is kneeling on the floor in front of me. “Listen to me. You’re safe,” he says earnestly, but how can I believe him? “I’m sorry, I should’ve got rid of those bloody chains,” he apologises, but I’m not fully paying attention, my thoughts circling.
Jayne mutters something, but I can’t hear what she says, my panic all-consuming as I focus on the magician’s wide eyes.
“I blew up a goat,” he blurts out, and silence follows. I blink at his admission, the absurdity of what he’s saying sinking through my panic and causing the trembling in my arms to lessen.
“You did what?” Jayne asks, her voice holding as much shock as I’m feeling. He turns to glance at her for a moment, smiling bashfully before looking back at me. His face settles into an expression of determination.
“When I was in training, I was much stronger than the others, and they bullied me because of it. One day we were practicing shooting targets with our magic, and they wouldn’t let up, they kept taunting me. I was so mad, I could feel the anger and rage building up inside me, but I knew I couldn’t afford to lose control. So, I channelled it into the target. The more they taunted, the stronger I threw my magic,” he explains, his features twisting. I know there’s more behind this story, but he carries on, so I keep my observations to myself. “This was exactly what they wanted, and they turned the target into a goat just as I shot a blast of magic towards it.” Blinking again, I try to concentrate on what he’s saying.
A goat. The fearsome magicians are messing around turning targets into goats? I think to myself, trying to imagine a young Grayson surrounded by other young magicians.
“It exploded?” Jayne questions, her voice disapproving, but I can see a smile tugging at her lips.
“No.” He grimaces. “I tried to change the intent of the magic, which is very hard to do after the magic has left the body.” He stops, rubbing the nape of his neck with his hand before continuing, “I wasn’t strong enough to stop the magic, but I was able to change it.”
“What happened?” My voice is small, but I see Jayne smile slightly and nod her head in approval out of the corner of my eye. My breathing has calmed and my heart is starting to settle as I focus on Grayson.
“It blew up the goat.”
“You said it didn’t explode,” Jayne points out, and he sighs before conceding with a nod.
“No, it didn’t. It blew it up, literally. It grew.” Silence follows his words again before the room is filled with Jayne’s bellowing laugh. A hint of a blush colours his cheeks, but he smiles ruefully as he watches the older woman collapse into a chair with laughter.
“You made a giant goat?” I query, trying to push away my own amusement but the corners of my lips twitch up.
“Yes. Bloody thing ran off into the forest, never saw it again,” the magician mutters as he reclines in his seat, a smile toying at the edge of his lips.
A strange feeling bubbles up inside until a barking laugh overtakes me. Throwing my hands over my mouth, I look at the magician in shock. There haven’t been many opportunities to laugh in my life, and I don’t remember much before I was a slave. Grayson chuckles at my shocked expression, and before I know it, I’m laughing again. Not the loud, braying laugh of Jayne, but a shocked, joyful giggle.
After a moment, Jayne pushes up from her chair and walks over to me, gently steering me to the seat she just vacated, still chuckling and muttering something about a goat under her breath. Sitting on the edge of the seat, I shuffle around awkwardly, unused to sitting on cushions. An unsettling feeling runs through my veins.
“Feeling better?” Grayson asks, and I know he’s not inquiring about the seat. Stilling in the chair, I look up at him appraisingly as I decide how to answer him. Just looking at him like this should lead to a punishment, but he simply leans back in his chair, his eyes steady on me. Perhaps it’s the stress and trauma of the day, but I decide to ask him a question.
“Why did you tell me that story?”
He hides his surprised look quickly, but I can tell he didn’t expect me to answer him, and certainly not with a question of my own. “I scared you. I shouldn’t have left the chains out. You needed something else to focus on.”
“Why the goat story?” He’s right, I was panicking, all thought and reason had fled my mind. He could have told me anything, but he deliberately chose something that would cause him embarrassment.
“I wanted to see you smile.” I ignore the uncomfortable emotion that his words stir in me and change the subject.
“Why am I here? What’s going to happen to me?”
Jayne makes a noise of exclamation as she bustles back into the room with a tray of drinks, placing them down on the table before me. “Grayson, have you not explained anything to the poor girl yet?”
“I’m getting there!” he exclaims, and I can’t help but wonder what the relationship between them is. She’s a maid, so she can’t be his mother, but she acts so familiar around him it’s like they’re family. “Do you know anything about magician’s visions?” he questions, pulling my attention back to him.
I’ve heard mentions of them, the whispers of slaves, but it’s only ever been hearsay. Shaking my head, he nods once in acknowledgement before continuing, “The visions are sent to us by the Great Mother. Most of us will go our whole lives without receiving a vision. These visions always hold truth and come to be, but they are not always clear in their message. We have magicians who have dedicated their lives to trying to understand and interpret these visions.” He pauses to check that I’m keeping up with him so far and I nod, accepting the glass of water Jayne shoves into my hand. “I have been lucky enough to receive three visions.” Leaning forward, he receives a glass of steaming dark liquid from the maid before adding cream and sugar to it. A bittersweet smell greets me, and I find my mouth watering as I watch him stir it. “I don’t suppose you’ve had coffee before?”
Busted . Flicking my eyes from the cup to Grayson, I see that he caught me looking, but he doesn’t sound angry, in fact, he sounds curious. When I shake my head, he gestures for Jayne to pour another cup.
“I didn’t think you’d like it. Horrible, bitter stuff,” she comments, but does as instructed, filling a cup with the dark liquid and gesturing to the cream and sugar. Shuffling forward, I copy what Grayson did, adding a splash of cream and sugar before sitting back in the chair, looking up at the magician expectantly.
“Can you tell me more about the visions?” I inquire, holding the warm cup close. This simple beverage, a luxury I’ve never been given before, fills me with a strength I didn’t know I had.
“They are sacred and illegal. Those who ignore visions don’t tend to live very long thereafter.” I think over his words, tentatively bringing the cup to my lips. My mouth bursts with flavour as I sip the liquid and force myself not to pull a face. Jayne was right, it is bitter, but the cream and sugar soon follow through and I find myself taking another sip. Grayson watches me with a blank expression as I drink, and I slowly lower my cup, meeting his gaze.
“I was in one of these visions?” He’s already said as much, but I need to hear it again. Why would I, a slave girl who has nothing, not even her name, be in a sacred vision?
“Yes.” He’s shut down again, the embarrassed young man telling me a story about blowing up a goat replaced by a shrewd magician. But I’ve seen that part of him now, and I know he doesn’t mean me harm. I’m purely a puzzle he can’t work out.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I couldn’t let you die today.” I flinch at the simplicity of his words. He didn’t save me because it was the right thing to do, he saved me because his sacred vision told him to. I must never forget that he doesn’t care about my welfare, no matter how well he pretends to. Seeing my reaction, he sighs and uses his free hand to scrub at his face, his whole body softening. “There’s something bigger than us at play here. You’re important to the outcome of the war, I just don’t know how or what that outcome will be.”
“Are you saying that I could be the reason we lose?” Sitting forward, I frown as I wait for his response. How could I have anything to do with the outcome of the war?
“I’m saying that we don’t know. But you are important to the Mother, you have her symbol on your body, after all. I get the feeling she’s been looking over you for a very long time.” His voice softens again, and I feel his gaze on my body as if he can see straight through my clothing to the mark he claims is on my skin.
“Wait. Her symbol?” That’s not possible. I would have noticed if I carried the Mother’s symbol. Wouldn’t I?
Nodding, he gestures over my shoulder and I frown as he responds, “Yes, just below your brand.”
“My birthmark?” At the small of my back I have a very dark mark that I’ve had all my life. It’s in the shape of a smudged crescent moon with two dark moles on either side of it. I guess if you squinted then it could look a little like the Mother’s symbol. Her full symbol is covered with elaborate swirls, the crescent moon bordered by two stars.
“That’s not a birthmark.” I’m about to argue, but something about the way he says it stops me. A tingling sensation runs over my skin as I look about in confusion. It’s a bit like when Grayson is using his magic around me, but lighter, not as…sticky. It always feels like I’m walking through treacle when someone uses magic, but this is different. Looking at Grayson, I notice he has a bright, blissful expression on his face, and I know he’s feeling it too. Seeing that I’m watching him, he tilts his head and his eyes light up in a way I don’t understand as he takes in my flushed cheeks.
“You can feel it too.” It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. Grayson goes silent as he leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. Shuffling in my seat, I glance across at Jayne who’s watching us with a brilliant smile. As if coming to a decision, Grayson nods to himself and shifts forward. “If you can feel that, then the Mother has blessed you. This changes things,” he explains, but his voice is distant, as if he’s saying it more to himself than to me.
“What was that?” My voice is quieter than I had intended, awe filling my tone as I watch the magician.
“Her touch. Only those she’s blessed can feel her touch.”
“How could I be blessed? I haven’t even been through the choosing ceremony.” My gut churns with worry as I mention the ceremony, still unsure how they are going to get around that stumbling block. Without the ceremony I will lose my soul. I’m sure Grayson’s well aware of this, but he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry or at all concerned that I’m about to become a soulless being.
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.” Pushing up from his chair, he starts to pace the length of the room. Watching him warily, I look across at Jayne and see she doesn’t appear worried. In fact, she’s poured herself a cup of coffee. Taking a sip of my coffee, I wait for the magician to finish his musings. “I knew you were important, but now I know the Goddess has blessed you...” He stops pacing and nods to himself again, sounding more sure.
“What do you mean?” I ask from behind my coffee cup, not sure I want to hear his response. This day has been a whirlwind and I feel like I’m in a dream. In the stretch of a couple of hours everything has changed, and I have yet to decide if it’s for the better.
“You’re going to attend the choosing ceremony.”
Choking on my drink, I splutter and put my cup down with a cough. “What—but I’m a slave!” I look over at Jayne for support, but she just shrugs in a way that says “don’t ask me.”
“Not anymore,” he declares, striding towards me with a determined look on his face. Shying away from the sudden movement, I cringe as he kneels down in front of me. “I need to keep you around. The Mother has made that clear. I thought we were going to need a secret ceremony, but things are different now,” he insists, and I know I don’t fully understand the implications of being blessed, but it’s helped him come to a decision. That’s when the thought hits me.
A secret ceremony. This would have worked. The blessing has to be performed by a priest, but the rest of the ceremony is pomp and circumstance. The only part required to link the soul to the body is the blessing.
They truly mean to bless me. I’m going to go to the ceremony after all. Pushing away the flicker of excitement that threatens to overwhelm me, I focus on the issues surrounding me. This is absurd and has to be a joke of some kind. However, a little part of me, the part that always guides me, tells me this is all happening as it should. Could this be the Mother advising me? Another thought strikes me.
“If I’m already blessed, why do I need to attend the choosing ceremony?”
Grayson seems surprised at the question, but he nods in acknowledgement. “Some people, usually those who are of great importance, or who are destined to be powerful magicians, are blessed by the Mother before they attend the ceremony. When they arrive for the formal blessing at the ceremony, it’s clear who these powerful individuals are. They’re marked in a way that lets us know they’re someone we need to focus on.” Pushing up from his crouch, he walks away from me, but I hear his final words loud and clear. “Everyone has to have a choosing ceremony, it’s the law.”
Everyone except for the slaves, I think bitterly to myself, wondering how many of these blessed people have been amongst us and were missed. I’m no different than them…so why am I sitting in the warmth, clean and dry as I sip coffee, while they’re outside working?
“There’s a choosing ceremony taking place tonight, you will be part of it,” Grayson declares, his words pulling me out of my thoughts. Frowning, I open my mouth to protest but Jayne beats me to it.
“Grayson! You think I can get her ready in time for that?” the maid splutters, putting her cup down on the tray with a loud clack as she pushes up out of her chair, rounding on the magician. Her expression is frightening, and even Grayson looks uncomfortable.
“I have faith in you.” He flashes her a charming smile and she starts to thaw. His expression turns serious as he continues, “Besides, we have little time. She turned twenty today.”
Arms crossed, she faces off with the magician for what feels like minutes, but must only be seconds, before she lets out a huge sigh and nods. She turns to me and I fight the urge to hide behind the chair as her appraising eyes run over my form.
“Well, we best get to work then.”