Authors: Pauline M. Ross
The mouth was still open, but he managed to nod.
“Excellent,” Cal said. “Say nothing to anyone about magic, though. Just tell your captain I’ve recruited you as a guard. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Now, let’s have another round of pies, shall we? They’re rather good.”
~~~~~
The following morning brought a servant from the local Kellon. Greatest respect to Lord and Lady Mage, not wishing to impose, but if we could possibly be so obliging as to attend the Gracious Lady at the Kellona’s Hall...
It was exciting to be summoned but I was disappointed too, since I’d hoped to see more of Lakkan; only the third natural mage I knew. It would be fascinating to learn about him, and perhaps find out what his talents were. But the Kellona took priority.
Cal sighed. “There’s never any hiding away for a mage. You’ll have to get used to that. Well, we’d better find time for her, I suppose.”
Despite his casual words, we ate only a hasty morning board, then went directly to the hall. It wasn’t hard to find, easily distinguished from neighbouring buildings by virtue of its position on a low hill, a monstrous multi-towered affair of black stone, looming over the gaudy ramshackle shacks below it.
The Kellona was a surprise – a thin woman not much older than Cal, with a nose as sharp as a bird’s beak.
“Ah, thank you
so
much for coming! And so promptly. And the new Fire Mage, too – I
am
honoured.” She looked at me speculatively, head tilted to one side. “I wonder if you would mind – my daughter, you know. Not long married, all wonderful, but these pains... My own mages can treat them, naturally, but they keep coming back, and worse than ever. More than two ten-suns the poor girl has suffered. Perhaps you can root out the problem? I daresay it will pass, but I do
worry
so about her. This way, this way. You are so good, and so fortunate you were here. Perhaps your skills will solve the problem altogether, and that would be such a blessing. Along here, if you please.”
She shepherded us along a passage and up some circular stairs, all the while talking without pause. We smiled and nodded and followed meekly behind her until we reached a small wedge-shaped room, an outer room in one of the round towers. There was a middle-aged female mage there, and a young blonde woman reclining on a long chair.
“Here they are, Lanonia! Sooner than we expected, too. They are from Kingswell, you know, the very best. All will be well now, my dear. I am certain they will find the root of the matter.”
The mage looked sourly at her, and no wonder. It was quite an insult to her, but then what mother wouldn’t try everything to help her daughter? I wasn’t a mother yet, but I had some inkling of how a baby casts its own magic over those around it. I felt the pull already, and my child was no more than a rounded belly.
The daughter, Lanonia, had been staring listlessly into space, but now she turned towards us, a half smile on her face. She was very pale, with the grey sheen of perpetual pain. Cal tossed his coat over a chair and sat cross-legged on the floor beside her, asking gentle questions which she answered in a wisp of a voice. I could see the Kellona forcibly holding back from speaking on her behalf.
“May I examine you, Lady? If you permit?”
She nodded, and loosened the front of her bed-robe to uncover one side of her belly. “There – that is where it hurts.”
Cal drew out his vessel, removing it from its little case and unfastening the top of his shirt to let it settle on his skin. He no longer needed it, since he wore the belt, but it reassured those he dealt with. Then he confidently laid one hand on her belly. Instantly he pulled it back, eyes wide.
The women gasped. “What is it?” Lanonia whispered. “Something bad?”
“No, no.” A quick glance at me. “It’s just – my vessel is full of power at the moment, I can see more clearly than usual. It surprised me. Your pardon, Lady. I had no intent to alarm you.”
The mage snorted, but I understood. This must be the first time Cal had healed anyone since he’d had the jade belt, and he could now see the colours as I did.
He laid his hand on her belly again, and held it there a long time. Then he rose. “Kyra, I should like your opinion.”
A louder snort from the mage.
I settled beside her. “If you permit, Lady?” She nodded, twitching the robe further open. “No, I only need to hold your hand.” I hoped my palm wasn’t too clammy. I knew all the protocol for a healing, but this was the first one I’d participated in. I listened for the snort, but none came this time.
As soon as I touched her and closed my eyes, I could see the problem; a roiling mass of brown and black to one side of her belly, small but sharp. I could feel the jagged edges of pain as a piercing sensation in my mind. Without any effort on my part, my magic flowed into her to soothe it away, and the black receded a little. And there was something else in there.
“Oh! A little stranger!” I said, the traditional village expression slipping unheeded from me.
For a moment the women were bewildered, then the Kellona laughed and Lanonia blushed. “I suspected! But – I was not quite sure, because there was still some bleeding. Ah, that feels warm!”
“What are you doing?” the Kellona said sharply. “Are you healing her?”
“No, just easing the pain a little. It’s complicated. I – would you mind if I consult my esteemed colleagues? In private? There are some aspects I’m not sure about.”
This time there was a definite snort, but the mage led us into an adjoining room, a rather untidy office, every surface heaped with candle stubs, books, papers, scarves and wraps. There was only one chair, so we stood.
“Well?” she said.
“The baby is – unhappy.” It was an inadequate word, but all I could think of. “All the pain, the bleeding, the damage – it surrounds him. I think he’s causing it.”
“You can see that?” the mage said, disbelief plain on her face. “A Fire Mage, and you can see all that?”
Odd question. “Yes. Can’t you?”
“No. I cannot see a baby. It is far too early to detect. Lady Lanonia has only been married a few ten-suns. Even if there is a baby, the pain is to one side, not in the womb.”
“Yes. He’s in the wrong position, I think, growing in a place he shouldn’t be.”
A sharp intake of breath. She understood. “Ah. That is bad.”
“It does account for the symptoms,” Cal said.
The mage rounded on him. “Could you see any of this? The baby, the bleeding?”
“Kyra’s power is greater than that of ten mages,” Cal said smoothly. “She sees detail that no mage with a single vessel could detect. But I know of no cure for this. The babe will grow, and gradually the pain and bleeding will kill mother and child both.”
“Is this true?” I said to the mage. “What about a death spell on the child?”
“Without a living, named person to direct it to?” the mage said. “Far too risky. It could kill Lady Lanonia too.”
“She will die anyway, if we do nothing,” Cal said impatiently. “Kyra, we’ve talked about how thought magic alters the spell. Could you do it, do you think? At least you are aware of the baby, you can direct the spell that way, instead of by name.”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. Probably I could. My mind was already running through ways that might work. But to kill someone? Even a child perhaps no bigger than a fingernail, and to save his mother’s life? I’d never intentionally killed before.
“Will you try?” he said softly. “If we do nothing, they will both die, a lingering, agonising death.”
“She can do this?” the mage said, eyes sliding from him to me. “She really has that power?”
Cal hesitated. “More than you or I, certainly. More than just control of fire. But she is new to her abilities, and this is a difficult case. I cannot force her to attempt it, I can only ask.”
I bowed my head. “I will try,” I breathed.
When we re-entered the room, Cal knelt beside Lady Lanonia and, holding her hand, explained the situation in plain terms. He wasn’t unsympathetic, but he didn’t dance around the bleak prospects, either, or hide that my attempts to help might fail. She cried a little, but accepted the proposal without demur. It was the Kellona who objected.
“Wait, you are going to let the
Fire
Mage kill my grandchild? You surely do not approve of this, Dresh?”
“We cannot find a better solution, Gracious Lady.”
“Why can
you
not do this? You are more experienced than this chit of a girl.”
The mage hesitated. “I do not like it, but she says she can see the baby, which neither I nor my esteemed colleague can. I do not see an alternative. Lanonia will die if we do nothing.”
“You said nothing of this before. Just a little female trouble,
you
said, that would clear up in time. You said nothing of Lanonia dying then.”
“I suspected, of course, but I hoped I was wrong. There is no accepted cure, so... But the Fire Mage – perhaps she can do something.”
“Perhaps? I forbid it! We will get more mages here, and get their opinions. There must be something we can do. I will not have this girl experimenting on my daughter.”
“Mother.” It was no more than a whisper, but they fell silent. “Kyra has the hands of a healer. Even her touch makes me feel better. None of the others do that. So I will permit it. The decision is mine.”
I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved or sorry about that. Part of me wanted to try my hand at proper healing, a serious case with all the time I needed to do it right. But part of me would have been glad to walk away from such a difficult task. If it went wrong... I shivered.
I knelt beside Lanonia and took her hand again, closing my eyes to see clearly inside her. The baby, that was the problem. There it was, in the midst of all the trouble, and clear enough that I could certainly kill it. But then what? It would still be there, still tearing at Lanonia’s insides until - well, what happened to a dead baby? Perhaps it would fester, and eat away at her in a different way, years of chronic difficulties and no obvious means of relief. If only there were some way to get the baby out of there....
Then I saw the solution. It was obvious, really. I lulled the baby to sleep, bathing him with all a mother’s compassion and love, as gently as if he were my own. Then, drop by drop, I turned his tiny body to blood. I knew very well how to change one thing into another. After that, it was a simple matter of healing the damaged tissues and soothing the remaining pain.
I opened my eyes.
“There. That’s done.”
“That was – very quick.” Cal sounded dubious. “May I see? If you permit, Lady?” She flipped open the robe to let him lay his hand on her. His eyes widened. “That is – astonishing.”
The other mage had to check as well. I don’t know what she’d seen before – some hazy sense of wrongness was how Cal had described what he could see with a single vessel – but she could tell it was gone. “We are in your debt, Lady Mage,” she said gruffly.
They were exultant; relieved and surprised and ecstatic all at once. But for me, it was a sun shadowed by sorrow. I went back to the inn and lay on my bed, one hand resting on my belly, grieving for the child I’d killed that sun, but immeasurably glad to feel the tiny fluttering movements of my own daughter.
I must have slept for a while, because the room was draped in shadow when a slight scratching at the door roused me.
“Come in!” I assumed it was one of the inn workers, but it was Lakkan’s pleasant smile which peered round the door.
“Sorry I disturbing you, Lady. I looking for the Lord Mage but he not here, so the inn manager directing me to you.”
“Of course, come in.” I hauled myself upright on the bed, a little awkwardly because of my increased girth. How pleasant to have a chance to talk to him alone! The previous night, I’d not been able to get a word in, Cal had so monopolised the poor man.
He pulled up the only chair, and before he’d properly sat down, questions poured from him. I saw no reason to hide anything. He was like me, and only the third natural mage I’d heard about; it was only right that he knew everything. Well, except for Cal’s jade belt; that was the only secret I kept. I told him about magical energy, about auras and creating fire, about healing and the colours hidden in the body, about the blue lights of liars. I demonstrated, and he tried too.
He squealed with delight when he first shot flames from his fingers. “This – is so amazing!” he burbled, over and over, face shining.
Finally, I let him hold my hand to see inside me. He was silent, awed. “Can you see her?” A nod. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” A more vigorous nod.
He was a nice man, easy to talk to. He told me, in an artless way, a great deal about himself and his family, with lots of amusing tales. He had two brothers close to himself in age, who were also guards. “I never being away from them before,” he admitted.
He was interested in me, too. “You been a drusse for long?”
“Oh – about a year, but not for much longer. My contract now is a pregnancy only type, and...” I waved a hand over my belly, and he laughed. “He’s about to marry the Bai-Drashonor. So although I’m legally still a drusse, I’m free of all obligations.”
“Oh. So then you and the Lord Mage...?”
“Cal? Oh no. There’s nothing...” Awkward. Cal was more than a friend to me, but I hardly needed to elaborate on the exact position with a stranger like Lakkan. “He’s my mentor, that’s all. He’s teaching me.”
“Ah.” Lakkan reminded me a little of Drei, the same charm, the same well-honed body – even more manly than Drei’s muscles, in fact, for Lakkan was a guard, and trained constantly, not just as a hobby. We were still giggling together, my hand loosely in his, when Cal burst in.
Lakkan rose gracefully, and made a respectful bow. “Lord Mage, I just leaving. Lady Mage Kyra been most instructive, I understanding it all much better now.”
Cal glowered at him, and wordlessly stood aside for him to leave. When he turned to me, his eyes were dark. “Well, you
have
had a good sun, haven’t you? Killed the Kellona’s grandchild and made her mage look stupid this morning, and made a stunning conquest of a guard this afternoon. What will you do for an encore, I wonder?”
He swirled out of the room, leaving me fighting back tears. It was a long time since he’d been so rude to me. He made me feel small, like my mother used to when I was a child and did something wrong: “I’m
disappointed
in you, Kyra,” she’d say. I wanted to curl up and disappear.
~~~~~
We crawled into Ardamurkan in a long line of farmers’ wagons, the smell of strawberries making my mouth water. The coolness of late spring had transformed overnight into the muggy heat of summer. The air itself was clammy, clinging like a damp scarf, and even Cal had left off his coat. He’d said not a word to me since the encounter with Lakkan, and even the servants and guards had noticed. Was he jealous? Lakkan and I shared a connection, just as Drei and I did, and I suppose it was bound to cause some friction. It was just as well that Lakkan had been left behind for the moment to tidy up his affairs. We would collect him on our way back to Kingswell.
We were to stay at the Kellon’s hall, and now that the moment had come, I was terrified. I, who had never wanted a baby, had to display my swelling stomach before my poor sister, whose chance of a child I had ruined. But there was a glimmer of hope. Perhaps my magic, unusual as it was, could correct the damage I’d done.
As the carriage lurched to a halt in the hall’s dusty courtyard, a figure raced out from the entrance, dwarfed by the high stone arch, and flew down the steps, skirts flying.
“Kyra! Kyra!” And before I was properly on the ground, Deyria hurled herself at me in a whirlwind of tears and shrieks of joy. “You came! Oh, Kyra, it’s
wonderful
to see you!” Then, suddenly pulling away, “Oh, but look at you! A mage! And...” A glance at my belly, and a giggle. “You look so
well!
Come in, come in.”
She dragged me up the steps, where the Kellon and a huge entourage waited to greet us, heads swivelling to get a view of me. I had left as a scribe of no account, the drusse of the Bai-Kellonor, but otherwise unworthy of notice. I returned as a mage, a person of importance to the realm, but also as a possible saviour. I was the person who might give the Kellon what he’d wanted for so long. Their scrutiny made me uncomfortable, but luckily I wasn’t the only person of interest. Many turned to watch the three brothers, Bellastria’s suitors, as they dismounted and ascended the steps in a line, smiling agreeably.
We ambled in a gaggle to the Kellon’s receiving hall, where he made a pretty speech welcoming Cal and me, the Kingswell law scribes, and also the three suitors. Cal responded formally – he knew all the right words to say – and one of the brothers spoke, a rather florid address praising the Kellon, his hall, his town and even the weather. Bellastria wasn’t there, but probably she wanted to meet her potential husbands more privately.
Then, to general surprise, the Kellon spoke again, looking directly at me.
“You all know why Lady Mage Kyra is here,” he began as the room fell silent. “More than most, I wish her success in the endeavour which brings her back to Ardamurkan, because it means so much to my beloved drusse, Deyria.” He tucked her arm into his, smiling tenderly at her, while she blushed and hung her head. “My situation is – awkward, and has been for many years. I have a fine Kellonor in my daughter Bellastria, but I have lost Axandrei, my Bai-Kellonor, to the greater charms of Kingswell, and my options for heirs are restricted in law, by my first marriage. I have asked Kingswell for the advice of the Drashon’s own law scribes, to help me disentangle the mess. However, I wish you all to know...” His voice thickened. Deyria glanced worriedly up at him, but he gave her a tremulous smile, and continued in a stronger voice. “I have decided that, regardless of the outcome of Lady Mage Kyra’s efforts, and regardless of the law scribes’ advice, I will delay no longer. I intend to marry my drusse as soon as the contract can be drawn up.”
The room erupted in uproar. There was a scattering of applause. Deyria burst into tears. Several people I didn’t know embraced Deyria and then each other. The Kellon looked down at me with a twinkling smile. “So you need not fear my displeasure, Kyra,” he said in low tones. “Whatever happens, I will be content.”
I didn’t really believe him. These great people, they often said such things – oh, don’t worry, it doesn’t matter, do your best – but when you failed, they were still angry. Still, it was nice of him to try to reassure me.
The gathering began to split into smaller groups – the three brothers were led away by servants to their quarters, the Kellon’s law scribes claimed their Kingswell counterparts, servants and hangers on drifted away, leaving just a small group around the Kellon.
“Will you look at Ria now, Kyra?” he said.
“She will be tired after the journey,” Deyria said. “All that swaying about in the carriage – so exhausting! And in her condition...”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. It was what I’d come for, after all.
The Kellon had his own room for healing, separate from the more commonly used one, a large, plush room with a raised long chair set in the middle, deep carpets, many hangings on the walls and a few tables and shelves around the perimeter. We were accompanied by two mages that I remembered – Meristorna, the elderly woman who’d told me that mages couldn’t really tell if someone was lying, and her long-standing partner, Yandroz. There was also a servant to help Deyria undress, and the Kellon’s personal guard, but the other guards and servants waited in an ante-room. Deyria disappeared behind a screen to change into a bed-robe so her stomach could be touched without undressing completely. I didn’t need that, but the other mages would, and Cal kept up the pretence of needing to touch the affected part directly too, although he could hold the hand as I did if he wanted.
Deyria climbed onto the long chair, which was high enough for me to stand beside her. Cal examined her first, in silence, then I took her hand and closed my eyes, concentrating, the sounds in the room receding.
Orange. A colour I’d never seen inside before. The whole of her womb was a deep orange, and it shimmered and sparkled like a starry night. That was the magic, I supposed. When I’d looked inside Drei, or more recently Lakkan, their magic twinkled just like that, and mine did too, when I was aware of it. If I focused on myself – yes, there it was, the same shimmering, but a golden yellow. The orange was set, somehow, still alive but held in place. Spelled. Tentatively, I allowed a little of my magical energy to trickle through towards the orange area. It fizzed momentarily with the extra energy, then went back to its original state. This was going to take some thinking about.
I released Deyria’s hand. At once there was a cacophony of voices as I came back into myself. The sudden burst of noise was deafening, and I winced.
“Quiet! I can’t think!”
There was a stunned silence. I didn’t dare look at their faces.
It was Deyria who softened the moment. “So sorry, Kyra. We’re distracting you with our chatter.”
“Would you like us to leave you alone with Ria?” the Kellon said gently. “Whatever works best for you.”
“No, it’s fine. Sorry. I just...” How to describe being inside someone like that, floating, washed by magic, and then jerking back to reality? I didn’t have the words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean...”
“It’s quite all right, dear,” Deyria said. “Can you make out the problem?”
“Oh yes. I need to think how best to deal with it.”
One of the mages coughed. “We have already tried a release spell, and a dispersal spell...”
“Oh, that won’t work,” I said confidently. “The womb is spelled – protected by magic. Spells will just roll off it, like they do off me.”
“You know this?” Meristorna said, disbelieving. They were such doubters, the mages. They must have read of wild mages before, why did they take so much convincing?
“Yes. The whole womb is a solid lump of magic.”
“But it’s
your
magic, Kyra.” Cal’s quiet voice behind me. “You put it there, you can take it away again.”
“Oh. Of course.” I remembered the spellpages we’d wiped by withdrawing the magic from them.
I took Deyria’s hand again and closed my eyes, letting myself be drawn in to that strange state of awareness, disconnected from the world, joined only to my sister at some instinctual level. There was the orange mass again. This time I called on it, drawing it towards me. A moment of resistance, then, as softly as morning mist, the shimmering magic drifted towards me, a glistening cloud of pure gold. My fingers tingled as it passed into me. What was left behind was bright red, the colour of a healthy womb.
“There.” I released Deyria’s hand. I meant to smile at her, but laughter bubbled up inside me and I giggled instead. I was fizzing with energy, just like after renewal.
“Is it – fixed?” she said, her mouth round with surprise.
“Yes.” I giggled again. “Would you like to check?” I said to the mages.
They both examined her, exclaiming in amazement, and then Cal tried as well. “Well done,” was all he said.
Deyria slid off the long chair, the other servants were called in and there was a great deal of hugging and kissing. I came in for my share, too, but every so often I caught a glimpse of Cal, motionless in his corner, watching me gravely.
The Kellon drew me aside. “Inadequate as words are, you have my eternal gratitude, Kyra.” Before I could make the usual polite disclaimers, he shook his head, and then said, in a low voice, “I have another matter to discuss with you. In private, if you would be so good.”
“Of course.”
We turned for the door, but Cal, frozen in place a moment before, was suddenly beside us. “I have to go with Kyra,” he blurted.
“I have a private matter to discuss with her.”
“Personal or magical? Because if it has anything to do with her magic, I have to be there too. By order of the Mages’ Forum and the Drashon. Kyra is not allowed to practise or discuss magic without my supervision.” I wondered if that was why he was so cross with me for talking to Lakkan.
“Oh. Then you had better come too, Lord Mage.”
He led us to his own study, a surprisingly small room, cosily furnished more for comfort than work, a well-worn desk pushed against one wall to leave more space for a ring of soft chairs around the hearth, which had a life-sized portrait of Deyria in all her finery above it. The Kellon caught my smile as I noticed it.