A Magic of Twilight

The man chuckled grimly, and he did not hug her in return. “You mistake the wrapping for the gift,” he said. “Envoy ci’Vliomani is there.”

He pointed to Mahri. “At least for the moment,” he added.

Ana stepped back. Mahri-or was it truly Karl? — had shut the door and was slouched against it, the scars on his face yellowed in the light of the candles, his single eye gleaming under the black hood of his cloak.

“I told you,” he said. “Mahri, can we do this now? Not that I’m not grateful to you. .”

Karl- Mahri? — sniffed. “This will take a few minutes, and it will leave you disoriented. We’ll both need to rest afterward.” He took a long breath. “Sit there,” he said, pointing to a chair near the window.

“Be very still.”

Karl closed his eyes; the cloaked figure of Mahri went to the chair.

Karl’s hands moved; he began to chant in a language that Ana did not know, though the cadence and accent were both strangely similar to the language of the Ilmodo. Karl’s body began to glow a sickly yellow-green, and fingers of that light slipped away from him, like an ink droplet spreading through water, moving toward Mahri. When it touched

him, his scar-distorted mouth opened and he moaned.

Karl spoke a final word and spread his hands wide. The light flared.

Mahri moaned again and slumped sideways to the floor; Karl’s knees buckled and he went down, Ana rushing forward to catch him before he fell completely.

“Karl. .”

His eyes opened. “Ana,” he said. A hand came up to feel his own face. “It’s me. I’m back. .”

Mahri

“You didn’t care for my body? I’m disappointed.”

Ana and Karl’s head turned toward him. He’d managed to rise to his feet, though the weariness dragged on him as if an anvil were laced around his shoulders. All the old pains were there; after a few days in ci’Vliomani’s younger and far healthier body, he could imagine the relief the man must be feeling at his release.

You could have stayed. .

He almost smiled at the thought. That would have been more of a sacrifice than ci’Vliomani could have realized. “Thank you,” ci’Vliomani said now. “I thought. .”

“I know what you thought,” Mahri told him. “And you’d have been wrong. I’ve no use for your form. I actually prefer this one.” Mahri could see the disbelief pull at Ci’Vliomani’s face, but otherwise the man said nothing. “After all,” Mahri continued, “I’m not being hunted by the Garde Kralji for having escaped the Bastida. They were going to kill you. The order came from the Kraljiki.”

“No,” the woman said, shaking her head. “He wouldn’t have. He promised me. . I. .” She stopped.

“Yes,” Mahri said. He knew what caused her shoulders to slump, the tears to start in her eyes. The Capitaine had told him the rumors. “The teni who came to see you, who kept asking about you? She’s the Kraljiki’s mistress now, I hear. Just another of the grande horizontales. I can’t say that I blame her-her future’s better with the Kraljiki than you, eh?”

Mahri also suspected what the woman thought she was trading for her body. He hoped that ci’Vliomani would be able to appreciate that when he learned what she’d done. “The Kraljiki lied,” Mahri said to her gently. “I suspect he’s very well-skilled at that. You’re not the only one he’s deceived.” He stopped. “A moment. .”

There was a soft knock at the door. Ci’Vliomani stared, and cu’Seranta began to chant a spell, but Mahri shook his head to the o’teni. He went to the door, and spoke to the man there-one of the beggars who formed his information network. When he closed the door, he took a long breath before turning back to them.

“The news is worse than I had thought,” he told them. “The Archigos is dead.”

Cu’Seranta stifled a cry with her hands. She closed her eyes and made the sign of Cenzi. “How?” she asked.

“He fell from his balcony at his residence. Jumped, some say. Or was pushed, according to others. A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca was seen at the same balcony immediately afterward, it seems. The news is all over the city. The Conclave A’Teni has convened in emergency session already; ca’Cellibrecca has been named acting Archigos until all the a’teni have been informed and a formal vote can be taken-they will meet here in a month.”

“And ca’Cellibrecca will be Archigos in fact at that time,” ci’Vliomani said.

“He has the backing of the Kraljiki,” Mahri answered calmly.

Ci’Vliomani snorted his derision. “And his daughter shares the Kraljiki’s bed.” Mahri saw cu’Seranta startle at that, turning to stare at the Numetodo.

“You knew that?” she asked him.

Ci’Vliomani nodded, pointing to Mahri. “He showed us,” ci’Vliomani said. “While the Kraljica was alive, we might have been able to use the information. Once she died. .” He sighed. “With ca’Cellibrecca as Archigos, he’ll marry her. She’s the obvious choice.”

Mahri saw cu’Seranta’s face color, and she went silent. Yes, she was seduced, or allowed herself to be seduced, by the Kraljiki also. And ci’Vliomani. . that frown tells me he’s suspicious as well.

“There’s more news, and worse,” Mahri told them. “It would seem that several of the Archigos’ staff fled just before his death. They are suspected of gross violations of the Divolonte, as well as complicity in the Archigos’ death.”

“That’s not true!” cu’Seranta shouted, and Karl shook his head toward her, a finger near his lips in caution.

“True or not,” Mahri continued, “the Garde Kralji and the Garde Civile have been told to find those teni who were on the former Archigos’ staff and bring them before the Guardians to be judged.”

“I can’t stay here, then,” cu’Seranta said. Weariness and fear whitened her face. “I have to find somewhere else.”

“This is as good a place as any,” Mahri told her. “No one can come here that I don’t allow, and there are things I can teach you.” He included ci’Vliomani in his nod. “That I can teach both of you.”

He saw the disbelief, the uncertainty in both of them. It amused him. He took a long breath, letting his shoulders rise and his chest fill, letting himself settle fully into his familiar body once more. “But that’s for later,” he said to them. “For now, we all need food, and then some rest. The world outside will take care of itself. . ”

Skirmishes

Jan ca’Vorl

“The battle was a complete rout.” Starkkapitan ca’Staunton’s nostrils flared, his chest filled, and his chin lifted as he spoke.

A’Offizier cu’Linnett, accompanying his immediate superior, smelled faintly of fire and ash; when Jan glanced at cu’Linnett, the offizier was staring intently toward the rear of the tent, looking not at the starkkapitan but the array of toy soldiers Allesandra had laid out on the rug, in preparation for a session with Georgi ci’Arndt. She’d stopped playing with them to listen to the starkkapitan’s report.

“There were approximately five hundred troops of the Garde Civile holding the border above the Ville Colhem,” ca’Staunton continued,

“and they broke across the River Clario bridge in the first turn of the glass. They saw A’Offizier cu’Linnett’s division and ran like frightened house beetles with their offiziers screaming at them to hold ranks. When the first barrage from the war-teni came, even the offiziers and the few chevarittai with them fled.”

Jan glanced again at the offizier, still staring intently at Allesandra’s soldiers. “I understand that A’Offizier cu’Linnett commanded the engaging troops?”

“He did, my Hirzg.”

Jan nodded. “How many casualties?” he asked the starkkapitan. He was seated behind his field desk, the thin