Authors: Sarah Prineas
Lost (21 page)
As I walked along at the back of the envoyage, I thought about what had happened in Jaggus’s fortress. I wondered if the Wellmet magic really had chosen me because I’d been alone. I had a feeling Jaggus had been wrong about a lot of things, but he was right about that. He knew what it was like to be completely alone. He’d said his family had sold him into service. His master must have been very cruel for him to turn to Arhionvar instead. I had Nevery and Benet and Rowan and Wellmet’s magic protecting me; he had been alone and empty, and his magic had poisoned him. I wished I could’ve helped him.
During our travels, Kerrn watched me like a hawk watches a mouse. She gave me and Rowan and Argent swordcraft lessons. I still got the fluff beat out of me every time, and Rowan teased me about dropping my sword in the middle of the fortress fight and about almost cutting my own arm off.
She’d ended up that night with a sword cut across her cheek, and it scabbed over and left her with a pink line of a scar.
I knew we were getting close. The rain started up. I walked along at the back, but I wasn’t plodding or thinking bad thoughts about the rain. From ahead, I felt the magic of Wellmet. When I’d left, it had wanted me to go so much that it had pushed me down the hill and made the bird scoff at me. But now it pulled at me, wanting me to hurry home.
I looked up. At the top of the hill, ahead, I saw where the road led into Wellmet, and on the
buildings alongside the road perched hundreds of black birds, all rustling like leaves in a breeze. More birds flew in wide circles overhead, calling
awk, awk
.
Ahead of me, the envoyage headed off the dirt road and onto the cobbled street, into the city, but Kerrn got down off her horse and stood at the side of the road, waiting for me to catch up.
I grinned at her—I was glad to be home and couldn’t help it.
The birds perched on the houses grew still, watching. I was just about to step into the city, when Kerrn stepped in front of me and put her hand on my chest. “If you take another step, I will arrest you.”
I stared at Kerrn. Her face was blank.
“Did you expect anything else?” she said. “You are exiled.”
Oh. The same way I was a wizard, Kerrn was a guard captain. Of course she had to do this.
I heard the sound of hooves clattering on
cobbles, then Rowan rode up and stopped. She leaned over to speak to us. “Captain Kerrn, what’s going on here?”
Kerrn’s face stayed still, like stone. “Lady Rowan, it is my duty to enforce the laws of the city. This boy”—she pointed at me—“is under an order of exile. If he sets foot into the city, he will have broken the law, which means I must arrest him.”
Rowan straightened in her saddle and gave Kerrn her best commanding look. “Captain Kerrn, you know this is ridiculous. It is only thanks to Conn that we were able to deal with the sorcerer-king, and we need him to help prepare the city for a possible magical attack.”
Kerrn didn’t answer; she didn’t even glance up at Rowan. She lowered her hand from my chest. My choice, then.
I stared right back at her. Then I lifted my foot and stepped forward, into the city.
I
n the guardroom at the Dawn Palace, Kerrn and her guards searched every stitch of my clothes, from my boots to my black sweater. They even checked my hair.
They found my lockpick wires and a knife. Then they gave me back my clothes and boots and marched me down
to one of the prison cells under the palace. As we went down the steps, the air got heavier and colder, and smelled of old stone. They shoved me into a cell and slammed the door. The keys turned in the lock, a heavy plunger with two flanges, from the sound of it.
I’d picked that lock before. I could pick it again if I had the tools. The cell was the same one Kerrn had put me in after I’d stolen my locus magicalicus from the duchess’s necklace. It was cold and shadow-dark; the only light came in through a barred window that opened on an air shaft. A table and chair were pushed up against one of the stone walls, which had patches of dripping mold on it.
Drats. I’d been spending too much time lately locked into places I needed to get out of. I had to talk to Nevery. Arhionvar was done with Jaggus. It had filled up his emptiness and aloneness with poison, and then it had tossed him aside. It needed a new wizard now, and it wanted me for that. Arhionvar was done with Desh, too, and it would
be coming for Wellmet, now that the magic was weakened and the people afraid. We had to get ready to defend the city.
Cold seeped from the damp walls and into my bones, making me shiver. To keep warm, I paced the room, five steps across, five steps back. Would Nevery come? Maybe he didn’t want to see me. Somewhere in the palace, up above, Rowan was arguing with her mother about the order of exile. I hoped she would win the argument, but I didn’t think she would.
Hours passed.
I was tired, but I couldn’t sleep.
At the sound of keys jingling in the lock, I whirled to face the door. It creaked open, and a dark shadow stepped into the doorway. The shadow spoke a word, and a locus magicalicus burst into flame.
I ducked my head away from the light.
“Well, boy?”
I blinked the brights out of my eyes and saw
that the shadow was Nevery, stepping into the cell and looking around, frowning. Kerrn stood behind him in the doorway, her face blank.
“Very well, Nevery,” I said. Now that he was here.
“Hmph. I see you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again.”
Not
again
. This was my old trouble, just working itself out to its end. “I had to come back,” I said. “Wellmet’s magic’s in danger.”
He stared at me, pulling on the end of his beard. “Yes. I received your letter.”
“Can you get me out of here?” I asked. Could he get the order of exile taken back, is what I meant.
“No,” he said.
Oh.
Nevery reached into his bag and pulled out a bundle of cloth, which he held out to me.
Before I could reach out to take it, Kerrn stepped out of the doorway. “What is that?” she demanded.
Nevery scowled. “You put my apprentice into this freezing cell, Captain. I brought him a coat so he won’t be cold.” He held out another packet. “And biscuits,” he said to me, “from Benet.”
“He’s all right?” I asked.
“He is,” Nevery said.
“I will examine those things,” Kerrn said.
“Very well,” Nevery said.
Kerrn opened the packet of biscuits and broke them open. She shook the coat and checked the pockets. Then she handed the coat back to Nevery and put the biscuits on the table.
Nevery held out the coat again, and I took it.
He turned to leave.
“Nevery—” I took a step after him, then stopped myself from trying to follow him out.
He turned back and put his hand on my shoulder; I leaned my head against his arm and took a deep, shuddery breath.
“All right, my lad,” Nevery said, his voice rough. For a moment he rested his other hand on
the top of my head. Then he let me go and turned away again, and left the cell.
Kerrn, looking unhappy, followed him out.
After the door slammed closed and the keys jingled in the lock, I unfolded the coat. Nevery must’ve gotten it from a used clothes shop. It was black, with a shabby black velvet collar, and it smelled a little moldy. I put it on and rolled up the sleeves.
No
, Nevery had said. He wasn’t going to try to get me out, then. I shivered and huddled into the coat.
No, wait. I was being stupid. I knew Nevery. He wouldn’t leave me locked up in here.
I took off the coat again. I felt along the sleeve seams. Nothing. Then in the hem. Nothing. The buttons were ordinary buttons. There was nothing hidden in the lining. Then I found it, a slit at the edge of the shabby velvet collar. I poked around with my fingers, and then I found them.
I pulled them out, two long, thin wires.
Thank you, Nevery.
Nevery was a wizard, but he knew how to think like a thief.
He’d brought me lockpicks.
P
EOPLE
ARGENT
—A noble young man with a sense of honor but no liking for former thieves and gutterboys. He is an expert swordcrafter and has been giving lessons to Rowan, but lately she’s been improving and might even be better than he is.
BENET
—A rather scary-looking guy but one who loves to knit, bake, and clean. His nose has been broken so many times, it’s been flattened. If he were an animal he’d be a big bear. His hair is brown and sticks out on his head like spikes. You wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley, but you would want to eat his biscuits.
CONNWAER
—Has shaggy black hair that hangs down over his bright blue eyes. He’s been a gutterboy for most of his life, so he’s watchful and a little wary; at the same time, he’s completely pragmatic and truthful. He’s thin, but he’s sturdy and strong, too. He has a quirky smile (hence his quirked tail as a cat). Conn does not know his own age; it could be anywhere from twelve to fourteen. A great friend to have, but be careful that you don’t have anything valuable in your pockets in reach of his sticky fingers.
DEE
—A gutterboy, he is thin and dressed in rags. He has blond hair and watery blue eyes and his front teeth stick out. He never gets enough to eat. He sneaks and spies for the Underlord’s minions; one day, if he grows big and strong enough, he will become a minion himself.
EMBRE
—A young man about eighteen years old. He is very thin and has a sharp face with dark eyes and black hair, and he might have smudges on his hands and face from working with black powder. Everything about him is sharp, including his intellect.
JAGGUS
—The sorcerer-king of the desert city of Desh. He is young but has white hair that he wears in cat-tail braids all over his head. His eyes are blue; he likes to wear white clothes with gold and silver embroidery on them. He keeps cats as pets. He has a sad history.
KERRN
—The captain of the Dawn Palace guards, Kerrn is tall and athletic; she wears her blond hair in a braid that hangs down her back and has sharp, ice-blue eyes. She is an expert swordfighter. She speaks with a strong accent because she comes from Helva, far away from the Peninsular Duchies.
NEVERY FLINGLAS
—Is tall with gray hair, a long gray beard, shaggy gray eyebrows, and sharp black eyes. He’s impatient and grumpy and often hasty, but beneath that his heart is kind (he would never admit it). Mysterious and possibly dangerous, Nevery is a difficult wizard to read but a good one to know.
ROWAN FORESTAL
—A tall, slender girl of around fifteen, with red hair and gray eyes. She is very intelligent with a good, if dry, sense of humor. She is the daughter of the Duchess of Wellmet. She is also very interested in studying swordcraft.