The Thinking Woman's Guide to Real Magic

broad-shouldered warriors in golden armor, swords and spears gleaming, the dewy, cinematic perfection of their Faitoren faces contorted with battle fury.

Aruendiel stopped and pulled himself as straight as he could, letting go of Nora’s shoulder. “Ah, excellent!” he said with satisfaction.

Perin was already surrounded, trying to fend off two Faitoren at once. The magician watched him coolly for a moment, as though appraising the younger man’s swordplay. Another Faitoren dodged past Perin and made a swing at Aruendiel.

Aruendiel lifted his chin slightly. The Faitoren vanished.

So did both of the Faitoren dueling with Perin. The ranks of Faitoren seemed to evaporate. All at once the corridor was quieter and mostly empty again, except for a flurry of movement on the floor. Nora looked down to see long naked tails and frantic rodent haste.

Only one of the Faitoren soldiers remained standing. He seemed taller but thinner, his armor loose. Perin ran at him. The Faitoren swung his sword clumsily, then dropped it.

Probably, Nora guessed after a second look at the Faitoren’s furry arm, because the Faitoren now lacked an opposable thumb.

“Bind him with iron,” Aruendiel directed.

The Faitoren prisoner in tow, they walked along the corridor, faster now. The encounter with the Faitoren had done Aruendiel good. His hair was darker, the old man’s timidity gone from his movements. As they went along, he discoursed on Faitoren fighting tactics. The kind of attack they had just witnessed, he said, was typical. The Faitoren always made a show of overwhelming force, but if you peeled back the spells, there would likely be nothing but a few outnumbered Faitoren and a pack of confused rats.

“That’s fine for magicians,” Perin said politely. “What can a simple knight do against the Faitoren?”

Aruendiel gave Perin a level stare. “One good steel blade could take down that whole company,” he said. “A direct thrust would dissipate one of their puppet soldiers—or kill an actual Faitoren. The difficulty is in surviving long enough to deliver a blow to every soldier. Their bronze swords can inflict real wounds—or make you think that you have suffered real wounds.”

The corridor led into the fortress’s main courtyard. Although it was drizzling lightly, the air seemed very bright after the confines of the castle. Aruendiel looked thoughtfully up at the overcast sky. “I must make my own way to the battle now,” he said, and glanced at Nora, his expression unreadable. “You will need protection on the way to camp.”

“I’ll look after her,” Perin said, but Aruendiel ignored him. “Would you prefer the Dinthiak or the Pasnvos Nen spell?” he asked Nora.

“The Nen,” Nora said, after thinking for a moment. There was always a trade-off with protection spells, strength versus duration.

Aruendiel nodded. “You will have to hurry, then.” She felt the faint, internal quiver of strong magic, and something shifted in her vision, so that everything around her looked slightly farther away. Then, with an easy, practiced movement—perhaps the most graceful thing she had ever seen him do—Aruendiel swung himself upward and was gone. A gray owl flapped silently to the top of the castle wall.

Nora was as startled as Perin. Although she and Aruendiel had talked about transformations, she had never actually seen him perform one. It was unnerving to see how neatly a man’s long body could be folded up into a bird’s. Even a large bird’s.

Together they watched the owl float away, until the castle wall blocked their view and they could not see it anymore.

Chapter 45

Why didn’t you tell me who your grandparents were?” Nora said to Perin. She was surprised by how wounded she felt at his omission. Perin had always seemed so forthright, so splendidly frank, she had never imagined he might not be telling the whole truth. Much like Wickham, she thought suddenly. Hopefully not as bad.

They were making their way along the road that twisted from the entrance of the Maarikok castle down to the marsh’s edge. The ridge flanking their left blocked their view of the frozen marsh, but the noise of battle was growing louder, like hidden machinery.

After a moment Perin said: “I should have. I didn’t know how much you knew of my family’s history—or Lord Aruendiel’s.”

“You and Aruendiel both told me that he stabbed his pregnant wife because she’d been unfaithful,” she said. “You forgot to mention that she was your grandmother. So the baby survived?”

“That was my father. Lord Aruendiel told you how he killed my grandmother?” The notion seemed to distress Perin.

“He wasn’t boasting about it. I asked him to explain why he’d done such a thing.”

“Did he explain it to your satisfaction?”

“He told me what he had done.” She added: “He regrets it very much, I think.”

“It is late for regrets,” Perin said.

“Is your father really going to try to avenge his parents’ death?”

“One of these days! He’s no coward, my father.” Perin glanced at her as though he were anxious that she should understand that point. “He swore that oath when he was young and unattached—and then he married and had a family to raise. But he hasn’t forgotten. We all grew up hearing the story of how he was orphaned before he was even born.”

Nora thought that Perin’s father sounded rather self-pitying, even if justice was on his side. “And if they did fight, Aruendiel and your father, and Aruendiel won, what would happen? Would you have to try to kill him, too?”

“If Lord Aruendiel won. I wouldn’t put high odds on that, after seeing him today. He’s not what I expected. He’s a feeble old man.”

“He’s not always like that!” Nora protested. “He was like that only because he’d been imprisoned. You saw what he did to the Faitoren—and he turned himself into an owl—”

“But those are all magician’s tricks. And yes, he did seem stronger as we went along, but that was a magician’s trick, too.” Perin shook his head decisively. “My father will be furious to hear that I had Lord Aruendiel at my mercy and did not kill him, but blood of the sun! I couldn’t attack a defenseless old doddard like that. It would be almost like killing my own grandfather.”

Nora looked curiously at Perin and wondered if there were any chance at all that—but no, Aruendiel had recognized in Perin’s face the features of the man who had stolen his wife. “So tell me the truth, Perin,” she said resolutely, “when you said you’d help me find Aruendiel, what were you really thinking? Were you planning to kill him? Because I would hate to think that I almost betrayed him, leading you there.”

“You know I never pretended to be a friend of Lord Aruendiel’s,” Perin said. “But I said that I would help you, and I did.”

She nodded, not entirely satisfied, but wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. “How did your father survive, when his mother died?” she asked.

“My grandfather had hired a wizard. Otherwise Lord Aruendiel would have found them much earlier. The wizard saved the baby and brought him to one of my grandfather’s cousins, who adopted him.”

Aruendiel stabbed his wife in the chest, Nora thought. Between the ribs, he said. He could have killed both mother and baby, but he didn’t. She thought of pointing this out to Perin, but had a feeling that it wouldn’t appreciably change his opinion of Aruendiel.

They were almost at the marsh’s edge before the road abruptly snaked to the left and gave them a view of the battlefield. “Oh,” said Nora.

“Look at that,” said Perin. He sounded almost appreciative.

The Faitoren were everywhere, wave after wave, stretching to the edge of sight. They blotted out the white