The Magician’s Apprentice

sighed again. “In the morning, then.”

Fools, Hanara thought. Cowards, too. They’re too scared to do anything. They’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist and hope it goes away.

Just as he had.

They weren’t going to seek the other magician unless they were sure they needed to. Trouble was, once they knew Takado was here and a threat there’d be little time to seek the other magician’s help. Was there a way he could convince them to call for help sooner? Perhaps there was.

“Is there danger?” he asked the stable master in a low voice. “I don’t know,” the man admitted. “You said another magician would come and protect us. Would he know if this is something bad?”

The man stared back at him, then nodded once. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Go get some sleep.”

As he walked away he caught snatches of conversation. A protest came from one of the younger workers. Climbing back up to the loft, Hanara listened carefully. Sure enough, when the men returned a horse was brought out and readied.

“It’s dark so take it slowly, but the moon will be up soon and then you can step up the pace,” the stable master advised. “Deliver the message and come straight back. Lord Narvelan will give you a fresh mount. I expect you back tomorrow night.”

Hanara’s heart froze. Tomorrow night? The other magician must live a full day’s ride away!

Takado was much closer than that. Much, much closer.

As the sound of galloping hoofs faded into the distance, Hanara rolled onto his back, his heart racing. This changes everything! Did Takado know that the only other magician nearby lived a full day’s ride away? He probably does, Hanara thought; he paid attention to those sorts of details while he was travelling here. He probably took note of where all the Kyralian magicians live.

So the only thing that was keeping him from entering Mandryn and killing or reclaiming Hanara was the belief that Lord Dakon was here.

He was going to work out that this wasn’t true eventually. Hanara could hope he didn’t before the other magician arrived, or Lord Dakon returned. Or he could leave and go to Takado. Takado might not kill Hanara, if he came willingly.

Yet Hanara could not make himself move. He could not yet abandon the hope that by waiting a little bit longer he might not have to confront Takado. After all, there was still a chance that Takado would kill him anyway, for disobeying his signal for so long. He lay still, waiting, as time crept by with excruciating slowness.

Then a sound below caught his attention. He rolled over and looked down. Ravern was standing with arms crossed, the other young stable servant emerging from an empty stall. They were both staring at a sweat-stained horse pacing the length of the building. The same horse that had left with the messenger had returned, riderless.

Terror rushed through Hanara, leaving him gasping. He’s here. Takado is here. And now he knows everything! He barely heard the stable master ordering two more horses to be saddled, cursing and mumbling that the messenger had probably just fallen off the horse. He couldn’t bring himself to watch the men prepare themselves with futile weapons, and leave.

But once they were gone, he climbed, shaking, down the ladder and slipped out into the night. He told himself he was leaving to save the village, but he knew with a familiar certainty that he was leaving to save himself.

It had surprised and impressed Tessia to learn that Everran and Avaria owned two wagons, one for their own everyday use and one kept for visits to the Royal Palace. Since the journey to the palace consisted of half the length of two streets, it seemed frivolous to own a vehicle especially for it.

But she had to admit the palace wagon was spectacular, and using it for ordinary journeys, bumping up against people and other vehicles, would mean constant repairs. Made of highly polished wood and gold fittings, with a cover of fine leather impressed and painted with the family’s incal – a revived heraldic fashion from before the Sachakan invasion – it declared to all around it that the occupants were rich and important. The four guards in uniform carrying whips also made it clear that such a wagon should not be delayed.

Inside the wagon a tiny globe light kept the chill of the night air at bay as well as providing illumination. Everran and Avaria sat opposite Dakon, Jayan and Tessia. All wore fine clothes in the latest fashion. Everran was in a long over-robe, the same style of clothing that Jayan and Dakon had worn when Tessia and her family had come to dinner at the Residence, made of the red cloth Avaria had bought in Vanity Street. Avaria wore a purple dress cinched in closely at the waist, with a narrow opening below the buttoned collar that would have been scandalously low if the glimpses it offered beneath had been of bare flesh, not a layer of red cloth. The skirt also had been “slashed” down each side, revealing more of the red cloth underskirt.

Tessia was as tightly clad in a dress of the green cloth bought by her hostess a few days before. To her relief, it was plain at the front, and while it did have slashes in the skirt, and along the sleeves, the cloth beneath was a demure black.

Dakon and Jayan wore over-robes, too, in black and dark blue. Back in the village the fashion had seemed extravagant and a little silly, but now it looked dignified and appropriate. It suited them both, she decided, then wondered if that meant they suited the city life better than life in Mandryn.

Perhaps Jayan, she thought. But maybe not Dakon. Her master did not look particularly relaxed. Black clothes and a frown combined to give an impression of distracted moodiness. In city clothes, Jayan looked calmly confident and she could even see a hint of why Avaria and her friends thought him handsome.

Sensing her gaze, he turned to look at her.

Just because I can admit he’s good-looking doesn’t mean he’s not also annoying and arrogant, she reminded herself, meeting his gaze coolly, then looking away.

The wagon slowed to a stop and the flap was opened by one of the guards.

“Lord Everran and Lady Avaria of family Korin,” he called out. Rising from his seat, Everran climbed out of the wagon and Avaria followed, holding the skirt of her dress carefully to prevent it from catching on anything or rising above her ankles as she stepped outside. As his name was announced, Dakon rose, followed by Jayan. Last to leave, Tessia climbed out carefully. Unused to the dress, she took Dakon’s offered hand gratefully and managed to reach the ground without baring too much of her ankles – or so she hoped. Apparently showing the bare skin of any part of your feet or legs was uncouth and common.

Looking up at Avaria, she felt relief as she saw the woman nod approvingly. Then Tessia turned to regard the Royal Palace and caught her breath.

She had seen glimpses of it before, but never an unbroken view or from this close. In front of them was an enormous gate, held suspended by huge chains above the men and women strolling into the palace. On either side of the gate were two tall towers, lamps burning in their narrow windows and between the crenellations of their roofline – and along the walls stretching on either side.

Everran and Avaria led the way beneath the suspended gate onto a bridge spanning a gap between the outer wall and an inner one, the space between filled with water that reflected the lights all around. The inner wall was breached by another entrance, this time graced by a pair of heavy iron doors standing open in grand but sober welcome. Tessia noted the markings on the doors, depicting King Errik’s family name and incal.

Once through, they entered the palace greeting hall, which mirrored the one in Dakon’s Residence, but on a bigger, grander scale. Servants were meeting each visitor and directing them through an archway between the stairways on either side. Tessia saw that these stairways had been blocked by free-standing paper screens and beside each stood two guards.

At the archway Everran repeated the names of the group to the servant who greeted them, then waved them through. As she moved into the room beyond Tessia felt her heart skip a beat.

She had never seen a room this large. It could have contained the whole Residence, she suspected. Maybe two Residences. Slim stone columns in two rows helped to support the cavernous ceiling. Instead of lamps, floating globes of magical light illuminated the room.

Enormous paintings and hangings covered the walls, but it was the people who caught Tessia’s attention. Hundreds of men, women and even some children milled about, in couples, families, small groups, and larger circles. All wore fashionable, expensive and, in some cases, extravagant clothing. Jewels glittered under the globe