Princeps' Fury (prologue, chapters 1-2)

looked odd on him. He had grown used to Magnus' shock of fine white hair. The old man had wiry, strong hands, a comfortable pot belly, and watery eyes that had gone nearsighted after years of straining to read faded inscriptions in poorly lit chambers and caves. A scholar of no mean learning, Magnus was also a Cursor Callidus, one of the most senior of the elite agents of the Crown, and had become Tavi's de facto master of intelligence.

'Well, Kitai has alerted Demos to what Gradash said,' Magnus began, without preamble. 'And the good captain will keep a weather eye out.'

Tavi shook his head. 'Not good enough,' he said. 'Kitai, ask Demos if he would indulge me. Prepare for a blow, and to signal the rest of our ships to do the same. As I understand it, we've had unusually gentle weather so far, sailing this late in the year. Gradash didn't survive to old age by being a fool. If nothing else, it will be a good exercise.'

'He'll do it,' Kitai said with perfect confidence.

'Just be polite, please,' Tavi said.

Kitai rolled her eyes as she left and sighed, 'Yes, Aleran.'

Magnus waited until Kitai had left before he nodded to Tavi and said, 'Thank you.'

'You really can say whatever you like in front of her, Magnus.'

Tavi's old mentor gave him a strained look. 'Your Highness, please. The Ambassador is, after all, a representative of a foreign power. My professionalism feels strained enough.'

Tavi's weariness kept the laugh from gaining too much momentum, but it felt good in any case. 'Crows, Magnus. You can't keep beating yourself up for not realizing I was Gaius Octavian. No one realized I was Gaius Octavian. I didn't realize I was Gaius Octavian.' Tavi shrugged. 'Which was the point, I suppose.'

Magnus sighed. 'Yes, well. Just between the two of us, I'm afraid that I have to tell you, it's a waste. You'd have been a real terror as a historian. Dealt those pig-headed snobs at the Academy fits for generations, with what you'd have turned up at Appia.'

'I'll just have to try to make amends in whatever small way I can,' Tavi said, smiling faintly. The smile faded. Magnus was right about one thing-Tavi was never going to go back to the simple life he'd had, working under Magnus at his dig site, exploring the ancient ruin. A little pang of loss went through him. 'Appia was very nice, wasn't it?'

'Mmm,' Magnus agreed. 'Peaceful. Always interesting. I still have a trunk full of rubbings to transcribe and translate, too.'

'I'd ask you to send some of them over, but . . . '

'Duty,' Magnus said, nodding. 'Speaking of which.'

Tavi nodded and sat up with a grunt of effort, as Magnus passed over several sheets of paper. Tavi frowned down at them, and found himself studying several unfamiliar maps. 'What am I looking at?'

'The Canim mainland,' Magnus replied. 'There, at the far right . . .' The old Cursor indicated a few speckles in the midst of the map, just at the edge of the paper. 'The Sunset Isles, and Westmiston.'

Tavi blinked at the map for a moment, looking between the isles and the mainland. 'But . . . I thought it was about three week's sailing from those islands.'

'It is,' Magnus said.

'But that would make this coastline . . .' Tavi traced a fingertip down its length. 'Crows. If it's to scale, it would be three or four times as long as the western coast of Alera.' He looked up sharply at Magnus. 'Where did you come by this map?'

Magnus coughed delicately. 'Some of our language teachers managed to make copies of charts on the Canim ships.'

'Crows, Magnus!' Tavi snarled, rising. 'Crows and bloody furies, I told you that we were not going to play any games like that on this trip!'

Magnus blinked at him several times. 'And . . . your Highness expected me to listen?'

'Of course I did!'

Magnus lifted both eyebrows. 'Your Highness, perhaps I should explain. My duty is to the Crown. And my orders, from the Crown, are to take every action within my power to support you, protect you, and secure every possible advantage to ensure your safety and success.' He added, without a trace of apology, 'Including, if in my best judgment I deem it necessary, ignoring orders containing more idealism than practicality.'

Tavi stared at him for a moment. Then he said, quietly, 'Magnus. I'm not feeling well. But I'm sure that if I ask nicely, when Kitai gets back, she will be happy to throw you off of this ship for me.'

Magnus inclined his head, unruffled. 'That is, of course, up to you, your Highness. But I would ask you to look it over, first.'

Tavi growled under his breath and turned his attention back to the map. The deed was done. There was no sense in pretending it hadn't been. 'How accurate is this copy?'

Magnus passed over several other pieces of paper, which were virtually identical to the first.

'Mmmm,' Tavi asked. 'And these are to scale?'

'That remains unclear,' Magnus replied. 'There could be differences in the way that the Canim understand and read their maps.'

'Not that much difference,' Tavi replied. 'I've seen the charts they drew of the Vale.' Tavi traced a finger down one of the maps that had variously-sized triangles marking the locations of a number of cities. Names had been sketched next to half of them. 'These cities . . . I'm sure that . . .' He gave Magnus a sharp glance. 'The populations of each of these cities are enormous. As large as any of the High Lords' cities in Alera.'

'Yes, your Highness,' Magnus said calmly.

'And there are dozens of them,' Tavi said. 'In this section of coastline alone.'

'Just so, your Highness.'

'But that would mean . . .' Tavi shook his head slowly. 'Magnus. That would mean that the Canim civilization is dozens of times larger than our own--hundreds of times larger.'

'Yes, your Highness,' Magnus said.

Tavi stared down at the map, shaking his head slowly. 'And we never knew?'

'The Canim have guarded their coastline quite jealously over the centuries,' Magnus said. 'Fewer than a dozen Aleran ships have ever visited their shores-and those have only been allowed to dock at a single port, a place by the name of Marshag. No Aleran has ever been permitted off of the docks-and returned to tell about it, at any rate.'

Tavi shook his head. 'What about furycrafting? Have we never sent Knights Aeris to overfly it?'

'The range of any flyer is limited. A Knight Aeris could fly perhaps two or three hundred miles and back, but they could hardly expect to do so unobserved-and as we saw subsequent to the Night of the Red Stars, the Canim do possess the ability to counter our flyers.' Magnus shrugged, and smiled faintly. 'Then, too, it has been speculated that our furycrafting abilities would be significantly reduced, so far from Alera, and our furies' points of origin. It is possible that a Knight Aeris would not be able to fly at all.'

'But no one's ever thought to test it?' Tavi asked.

'The ships that have sailed there have all been couriers and merchantment.' Magnus flashed Tavi a swift smile. 'Besides. Can you imagine the Citizen who would want to rush off to the domain of the Canim amidst a crowd of rude sailors, only to find out that he is just as powerless as they?'

Tavi shook his head slowly. 'I suppose not.' He tapped a finger on the maps. 'Could this be a lie? Deliberately planted for us to find?'

'Possible,' Magnus said, approval in his tone, 'though I would consider it a very low-order of probability.'

Tavi grunted. 'Well,' he said. 'This is rather valuable information.'

'I thought it so,' Magnus said.

Tavi sighed. 'I suppose I won't have you thrown off the ship just yet.'

'I appreciate that, your Highness,' Magnus said gravely.

Tavi traced his finger over several heavy lines, many of which ran ruler-straight. 'These lines. Canals of some