The Magician’s Apprentice

Ah, yes. The old fountain trick. Hides the sound of voices. Good to know Elynes aren’t the only ones who do this.

“We can talk safely here,” he told them.

“None of the slaves are mouth-readers, then.”

He looked at her oddly.

“Mouth-reading,” she explained. “The trick of reading what someone is saying by the movements of their lips.”

“I had no idea anyone could do that,” he admitted, glancing nervously around the courtyard. Then he shrugged and turned back to her. “So what would you like to talk about?”

She searched for any sign of the aloof, cold man who had ignored her at the dinner a few weeks back. He looked a little anxious, but there was no animosity or distance in his face. He almost seemed a different person.

“Vora tells me you’re not like the person I thought I knew,” she told him, deciding to be blunt. “But you barely looked at me the one time I’ve seen you since I arrived.”

He grimaced and nodded. “I wasn’t to show any feeling towards you, good or bad, or it might affect the outcome.”

“It might put my prospective husband off?”

“Yes.”

She let out a short, bitter laugh. “I might have wanted him put off. But, of course, what my father wanted was more important than what I wanted.”

His eyes were dark and haunted as he nodded and met her eyes. “There is not much point resisting him.”

She looked back towards where she thought the bath was situated. “You don’t seem to be giving up.”

“A small victory that could be lost at any moment, any day. The larger issues . . .” He sighed and shook his head. “I’ve been so jealous of you, living with Mother and able to do whatever you wanted.”

Stara stared at him. “You were jealous of me? I thought you... You said women weren’t important and I figured that had to include me. Why would you have given me any thought at all?”

“I was sixteen when I said that, Stara,” he chided her quietly. “You can’t hold anyone responsible for the opinions they form at that age, especially growing up in this place. Everything is at the extreme here. There is no middle ground. When I met my wife I learned that things weren’t that simple.”

“I was jealous of you,” she told him. “All my life I worked towards learning what I thought I’d need to know when Father finally called me home.” She clenched her fists. “And when he did it turned out all he wanted was to marry me off like a piece of stock.”

Ikaro chuckled. “He was furious that you’d learned magic. Nachira and I laughed so hard when I told her. You must meet her – you’d like her. I know she wants to meet you. How did you manage to learn and keep it a secret?”

She shrugged. “Friends in Elyne. Mother wouldn’t let me become an apprentice, and I didn’t want to leave her to do all the work alone. So I learned from a friend and from books.”

“Father said you’d lacked any good training. I took that to mean you didn’t know higher magic.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. “You’ve been to Elyne. You know the laws.”

“All magicians are bound by some oath before they’re allowed to learn higher magic, right?”

“Yes. My friend said she wouldn’t teach me higher magic, because it was a law she respected. Not that I resent her for it.” She shrugged. “What I had learned was precious enough. Do any Sachakan women learn magic?”

He nodded. “Sometimes. Usually because they’re the only heir to a magician’s property, but there are tales of husbands who foolishly taught their wives and came to regret it, or of women who received training in exchange for some favour.”

“Does it really mean no one will marry them?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t want to be married.”

“Just not to someone I don’t know and like.”

“I see.” He looked away, frowning. Stara looked at Vora. The woman was watching him closely, her face creased with worry.

“Having magic doesn’t make a woman unmarriageable, but it is unlikely anyone of high status would take her.” He looked up at her quickly. “Father has chosen someone of lower status than he wanted. That’s all I know.”

“He’s chosen . . .” Stara echoed. A chill ran across her skin.

Ikaro frowned. “You didn’t know?”

“I thought...I hoped he’d given up on the idea and...I hoped he would send me home.”

He shook his head and looked away again. “No, he’s accepted the man’s proposal.”

Standing up, she began to pace in a small circle. “Do I get any say in this?” She looked at him and saw the apology in his expression as he began to answer. “No. I know.” She cursed. “What can I do? Run away? Tell him that if he marries me off against my will I’ll make sure I never have a child?”

Ikaro winced, a reaction that made her stop pacing and consider him. Father said his wife couldn’t bear children. He’s been married a few years now. From the sound of it, he likes and respects his wife. But if she’s infertile... and Father said he needed an heir. To prevent the emperor from gaining the family assets when Ikaro dies.

“Tell her,” Vora said, her voice low and urgent.

Ikaro put his head in his hands, then straightened again. “If you don’t bear a child, Father will make sure I do. By freeing me to try another wife.”

Stara stared at him as the meaning behind his words sank in. He’ll murder Nachira. That’s why Ikaro winced. He loves Nachira. He needs me to have a child in order to give Father no reason to murder her. A wave of horror swept over her. Someone get me out of this country!

But if someone did, Nachira would still die. Though she had never met the woman, Stara knew she would always feel responsible if something she had done – or hadn’t done – had led to someone’s death.

Was she willing to marry a stranger and bear his children to avoid that?

Is there any chance I’d make it out of Sachaka, anyway? Father can still have me marry whoever he’s picked, whether I want it or not. I get no say in it.

“So Father is willing to have Nachira murdered just so the emperor won’t get the family assets?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “He must really dislike the emperor.”

“It’s more a matter of pride for him,” Ikaro told her. “It’s certainly not a concern for me, but for the fact that if I die first Nachira will have no money or home.”

He looked guilty but his eyes pleaded with her.

“I know I’m asking you to do something you don’t want to do and I wish there was another way. If there was something I could give you in return, I would, but I know the things you want most are the ones that would still lead to... still leave her...”

Taking in a deep breath, Stara let it out slowly. “Sounds as if I need to meet Nachira.”

Ikaro’s eyes brightened. “You’ll like her.”

“So you said before. I won’t agree to anything until I’ve had time to think about it.” She paused as an idea came to her. “When you said you would give me something in return . . .”

He hesitated, frowned, then smiled. “If I can give it, I will.”

“Teach me higher magic.”

Again she saw surprise, concern, then amusement. Then he began to nod. “I will have to think about it, too. And ask Nachira. She often sees consequences where I don’t.”

“Of course,” she said. Looking at Vora, she saw the woman was smiling broadly. “What are you looking so smug about, Vora?”

The woman’s eyes widened in an unconvincingly innocent look. “I am a mere slave, mistress, and have nothing to be smug about.”

To Stara’s amusement, Ikaro rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why Father doesn’t sell you, Vora.”

“Because I am so good at keeping his children in line.” She rose and took a step away from the fountain. “Come now, mistress. Too much exposure to the sun will age you before your time.”

As they began to walk away from the fountain, Ikaro called out quietly.