The other magimen lifted their objects of power, preparing an all-out assault on their errant member.
«Please, friends,» Chaumel said, moving between them toward the wary pair in the center. His eyes were glowing with a mad, inner light. «Allow me.»
He took the wand from the sleeve on his belt and raised it. Keff glanced up at Plennafrey. The magiwoman, glaring defiance, began to wind up air in her arms.
«I see what she's doing,» Carialle said, her voice alarmed. «Keff, tell her not to teleport again. I wont —»
The cavern exploded in a brilliant white flash.
Except for the absence of eight angry magimen, Keff and Plennafrey might not have moved. They were in the center of a globe hewn from the bare rock. Then Keff noticed that the walls were rougher and the ceiling not so high. Plennafrey hastily brought the chair to earth. She sighed a deep breath of relief. Keff seconded it.
He sprang up and offered her his hand. With a small smile, she reached out and took it, allowing him to assist her from the chair.
«My lady, I want to thank you very sincerely for saving my life,» Keff said, bowing over their joined hands. When he looked up, Plenna was pink, but whether with pleasure or embarrassment Keff wasn't sure.
«I could not let them treat you like chattel,» she said. «I feel you are a true man for all you are not one of us.»
«A true man offers homage to a true lady,» Keff said, bowing again. Plennafrey freed herself and turned away, clutching her hand against herself shyly. Keff smiled.
«What pretty manners you have,» Carialle's voice said. It sounded thin and very far away. «You're forty-five degrees of planetary arc away from your previous location. I just had time to trace you before your power burst dissipated. You're in a small bubble pocket along another one of those long cavern complexes. What is this place?»
«I was just about to ask that.» Keff looked around him. «Lady, where are we?»
Unlike Chaumel's wine cellar, this place didn't smell overpoweringly of wet limestone and yeast. The slight mineral scent of the air mixed with a fragrant, powdery perfume. Though large, the room had the sensation of intimacy. A comfortable-looking, overstuffed chair sprawled in the midst of little tables, fat floor pillows, and toy animals. Against one wall, a small bed lay securely tucked up beneath a thick but worn counterpane beside a table of trinkets. Above it, a hanging lamp with a cobalt-blue shade, small and bright like a jewel, glowed comfortingly. Keff knew it to be the private bower of a young lady who had taken her place as an adult but was not quite ready to give up precious childhood treasures.
«It is my . . . place,» Plennafrey said. IT missed the adjective, but Keff suspected the missing word was «secret» or «private.» Seeing the young woman's shy pride, he felt sure no other eyes but his had ever seen this sanctuary. «We are safe here.»
«I'm honored,» Keff said sincerely, returning his gaze to Plennafrey. She smiled at him, watchful. He glanced down at the bedside shelf, chose a circular frame from which the images of several people projected slightly. He picked it up, brought it close to his eyes for Carialle to analyze.
«Holography,» Carialle said at once. «Well, not exactly. Similar effect, but different technique.»
Keff turned the frame in his hands. The man standing at the rear was tall and thin, with black hair and serious eyebrows. He had his hands on the shoulders of two boys who resembled him closely. The small girl in the center of the grouping had to be a younger version of Plennafrey. «Your family?»
«Yes.»
«Handsome folks. Where do they live?»
She looked away. «They're all dead,» she said.
«I am sorry,» Keff said.
Plennafrey turned her face back toward him, and her eyes were red, the lashes fringed with tears. She fumbled with the long, metallic sash, lifted it up over her head, and flung it as far across the room as she could. It jangled against the wall and slithered to the floor.
«I hate what that means. I hate being a magess. I would have been so happy if not for . . .» IT tried to translate her speech, and fell back to suggesting roots for the words she used. None of it made much sense to Keff, but Carialle interrupted him.
«I think she killed them, Keff,» she said, alarmed. «Didn't Chaumel say that the only way to advance in the ranks was by stealing artifacts and committing murder? You're shut up in a cave with a madwoman. Don't make her angry. Get out of there.»
«I don't believe that,» Keff said firmly. «They all died, you said? Do you want to tell me about it?» He took both the girl's hands in his. She flinched, trying to pull away, but Keff, with a kind, patient expression, kept a steady, gentle pressure on her wrists. He led her to the overstuffed footrest and made her sit down. «Tell me. Your family died, and you inherited the power objects they had, is that right? You don't mean you were actually instrumental in their deaths.»
«I do,» Plenna said, her nose red. «I did it. My father was a very powerful mage. He . . . ed Nokias himself.»
«Rival,» IT rapped out crisply. Keff nodded.
«They both wished the position of Mage of the South, but Noldas took it. Losing the office troubled him. Over days and days-time, he went—» Helplessly, she fluttered fingers in the vicinity of her temple, not daring to say the word out loud.
«He went mad,» Keff said. Plenna dropped her eyes.
«Yes. He swore he would rival the Ancient Ones. Then he decided having children had diminished his power. He wanted to destroy us to get it back.»
«Horrible,» Keff said. «He was mad. No one in his right mind would ever think of killing his children.»
«Don't say that!» Plennafrey begged him. «I loved my father. He had to keep his position. You don't know what it's like on Ozran. Any sign of weakness, and someone else will . . . step in.»
«Go on,» Keff said gravely. Aided occasionally by IT, Plennafrey continued.
«There is not much to tell. Father tried many rituals to build up his connection with the Core of Ozran and thereby increase his power, but they were always unsuccessful. One day, two years ago, I was studying ley lines, and I felt hostile power stronging up . . .»
«Building up,» interjected IT.
«As I had been taught to do, I defended myself, making power walls . . .»
«Warding?» Keff asked, listening to IT's dissection of the roots of her phrase.
«Yes, and feeding power back along the lines from which they came. There was more than I had ever felt.» The girls pupils dilated, making her eyes black as she relived the scene. «I was out on our balcony. Then I was surrounded by hot fire. I built up and threw the power away from me as hard as I could. It took all the strength I had. The power rushed back upon its sender. It went past me into our stronghold. I felt an explosion inside our home. That was when I knew what I had done. I ran.» Her face was pale and haunted. «The door of my fathers sanctum was blown outward. My brothers lay in the hall beyond. All dead. All dead. And all my fault.» Tears started running down her cheeks. She dabbed at them with the edge of a yellow sleeve. «Nokias and the others came to the stronghold. They said I had made my first coup. I had achieved the office of magess. I didn't want it. I had force-killed my family.»
«But you didn't do it on purpose,» Keff said, feeling in his tunic pocket for a handkerchief and extending it to her. «It was an accident.»
«I could have let my father succeed. Then he and my brothers might be alive,» Plennafrey said. «I should have known.» A tear snaked down her cheek. Angrily, she wiped her eye and sat with the cloth crumpled in her fists.
«You fought for your life. That's normal. You shouldn't have to sacrifice yourself for anyone's power grab.»
«But he was my father! I respected his will. Is it not like that where you live?» the girl asked.
«No,» Keff said with more emphasis than he intended. «No father would do what he did. To us, life is sacred.»
