The Dragon of Trelian (30 page)

She seemed agitated. Calen’s first thought was that there must have been an alarm ward on the door after all and she had returned to discover the intruder. But she didn’t pause or look around to see who might be there. She tossed her small purse and an expensive-looking shawl onto the bed without breaking stride and crossed to the jewelry box atop the vanity. They had examined the jewelry box already and found nothing suspicious, but now it was clear they had missed something. Sen Eva reached around the back of the wooden case, and a hidden panel in the side snapped open. She pulled out a drawer that lay concealed within the base of the box. In the drawer Calen could see a polished blue crystal and what looked like a small book.

Sen Eva picked up the crystal in her left hand and began to speak softly under her breath — an incantation? Calen couldn’t make out the words. After a moment Sen Eva turned and extended her right hand, tracing an arc before her in the air.

A glowing portal shimmered into existence in the space her hand had defined.

Meg’s hand grew tighter on Calen’s, and he glanced down to see her eyes wide in fear and amazement. He had a sudden mad urge to reach over and place his free hand across her mouth to prevent her from making a sound that might give them away again. He managed to resist; he had to trust her.

A figure appeared in the portal.

Calen gaped. When this was all over, he was going to make Serek tell him plainly once and for all if
any
of the things he’d said were impossible actually were.

The figure appeared to be a man, but the space within the portal was shadowy and strange, and his features were indistinct. When he spoke, his voice also seemed blurred and shifting.

“I have been waiting.”

Sen Eva’s face went through an extraordinary range of expressions in the space of an eyeblink, contorting to hold back whatever initial response she had been tempted to make. She took a breath, and they could see the effort with which she schooled her tone. “As I have explained to you before, I cannot simply come running whenever you happen to summon me. Do you want to make them suspicious, this close to —”

The man spoke over her. “You are a clever woman. I am sure you could have found a suitable excuse.”

“I am running out of suitable excuses!” She stopped, then went on in a softer voice. “We were in the middle of the Intention Ceremony. Can you not see how strange it would have been for me to stand and walk out while the prince was stating his vows of intention?”

He waved this aside, either unaware or simply uninterested in what effect her sudden departure might have had. “What are they saying about the missing children?”

“You summoned me to ask that?” Her sharp tone seemed to injure her own ears; she placed a hand against her head and closed her eyes. “I am here now, in any case. Will you kindly remove your grasping fingers from my head?”

The man made a quick gesture, and Sen Eva’s face lost some of its tension. “I summoned you because I continue to sense something moving against us. The warnings are vague, and I cannot see . . .” He trailed off, frustration plain in his voice. “Are you certain the children cannot be traced back to you?”

“Yes, as I told you.
Several
times. They are circulating a story that the princess is ill, and they will not act upon her disappearance until after the wedding. They have placed too much importance on this event and cannot risk any distractions.”

“And the other?”

She shrugged. “I got the impression the boy was not the most dedicated of students. Serek probably assumes he ran off and abandoned his apprenticeship. He does not appear to be very concerned. No doubt the child was far more trouble than he was worth.” She paused, then added with a smirk, “I suspect I did the man a favor.”

Calen felt his eyes go hard and narrow. He could not wait to make her eat those words.

Whoever it was in the portal didn’t seem to like what she had said much, either. “I hope you are not taking this too lightly, Sen Eva. I do not need to remind you what is at stake.”

Sen Eva’s face grew instantly grave. “No. No, of course you do not need to remind me. I only . . . I am sorry, Master, for any offense I have given. I only meant to assure you that the boy will not be missed.”

“Unlike other boys,” he said softly. “Or men.” The words seemed to cut Sen Eva deeply.

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t. Don’t threaten me with that. If you harm him, if you go back on your promise, I will do nothing for you. I will tell them everything.”

“Will you?” He sounded more amused than alarmed. “Even Wilem? Will you tell your son the truth after all this time?”

Her face went gray. “It wasn’t my fault. He wouldn’t understand that it wasn’t my fault. And . . . and it’s not too late. You promised. You said I could have them back. You said — both of them.” She looked up at him desperately. “Show me. Just for a moment. Show me he’s still alive.”

The figure moved his hand again, and a smaller portal opened within the larger one. Sen Eva leaned forward, her face alight with a terrible blend of fear and hope and longing. Another man was visible in the smaller portal. This image was clear and bright, and even from across the room they could see that there was much about him that resembled Wilem. His father, Calen would have guessed, except — Wilem’s father was dead. Wasn’t he? Certainly the part about his death being planned by Meg’s father was a lie, but Calen had thought the death itself was true. But maybe none of it was true. He shook his head, wishing he could clear it. So many lies. His brain hurt from trying to sort them out.

The smaller portal winked out of existence. Sen Eva uttered a small cry of dismay and seemed on the verge of reaching out to try to draw it back before she caught herself. Calen was shocked to see tears streaming down the woman’s face. How could someone so evil be able to feel such sorrow? He glanced at Meg, but she seemed just as confused as he was.

“I won’t be so cruel as to show you Tymas. He doesn’t look nearly so well, I’m afraid. Years of death will do that to a person. The decay, you know. And . . . the worms.”

Sen Eva was sobbing now, her face a mask of grief and pain. “Please. Please, don’t . . .” She fell to her knees, her words thick and slurred with her crying. “Tymas! My poor sweet boy. . . .”

Now the figure’s voice became soft and soothing, all the cruelty that had been present only a moment before gone as if it had never existed. “Shhh. Remember my promise, Sen Eva. Magic is a powerful force. You have begun to see this for yourself, have you not? Once you fulfill your part of our bargain and I am free, there will be no limit to what I can do. Distances can be closed with a word. And even death can be undone, by one who knows its secrets.”

“Yes,” Sen Eva whispered through her tears. “Yes. Even death.”

“That’s right,” the figure continued, still speaking softly, as to a distressed child. “I am the only one who can give you back your husband and son, Sen Eva. But you must help to bring me back. This alliance between the kingdoms must be prevented. Queen Lysetta’s death was not enough, but now I can see that killing her was only the first necessary step. One death to start the war, another to ensure it doesn’t end.” His voice, still soft, grew thoughtful. He no longer seemed to be speaking to Sen Eva. “I have seen it. Peace will prevent my return. War and chaos will open the way. Death and destruction enough to pay the price. No united enemy to stand against me. Then I can reclaim my rightful place, and mages will no longer serve as slaves and lackeys to the lesser races of men. The Magistratum will be destroyed, and the order will serve
me,
and I will lead them all back to where we belong. . . .”

Calen struggled to maintain his concentration and hold the spell against this torrent of confusing and alarming information. It was . . . insane.
He
was insane, whomever he was. Who
was
he? And Sen Eva had to be insane, too, to be going along with this. Meg turned to stare at Calen, her face screwed up with unspoken questions. He shook his head at her helplessly, hoping she could see that he had no idea.

Sen Eva seemed to be regaining her composure. When she spoke again, her voice was tired but steady. “Everything is prepared, Master. Whatever forces you sense moving against us will be too late. By tomorrow night Princess Maerlie will be dead, and the war will begin anew. I have done all that you have required. Your army is even now progressing toward Trelian — the slaarh and the men trained to handle them — and once they are in place, I shall create the bridge for you to return as you have foreseen.”

The figure made no response. Sen Eva looked up at him, alarmed. “Master . . . ?”

For a moment there was only silence. Calen tried not to breathe. When the man next spoke, his voice was cold and black and horribly sure. “There is other magic at work in this room.”

Sen Eva’s head snapped around to look. Meg’s nails dug painfully into Calen’s wrist. Calen couldn’t worry about that, however. He couldn’t worry about anything other than maintaining the spell. Maybe this scary portal mage — for mage he must be — could sense the use of magic, but clearly he couldn’t actually see through the spell or he would have simply told Sen Eva they were there. If Calen let his terror weaken his concentration, they would be lost. Meg waited, eyes wide with her own terror but also amazingly still and under control. Once again he tried to imagine some of her strength and surety flowing through her fingers into his flesh. And then for no reason he could understand, he suddenly thought of one of the spirit cards he had read in Serek’s study — the chain, the metal links that were so much stronger when forged together.
That’s us,
he thought fiercely.
Together we are stronger than either of them. We are stronger than them both.
The sphere around them felt like a wall of solid rock, impenetrable and without weakness. Calen looked up and met Meg’s eyes. He jerked his chin toward the door.

She started to nod, then froze. Then she mouthed something silently at him. When he shook his head in confusion, she rolled her eyes and repeated it, more slowly. This time he got it.
The book,
she was saying.
We have to get the book.

He turned slowly back toward where Sen Eva was now standing, staring around the room. The portal mage was motionless. Listening, most likely, or . . . sensing, or doing whatever it was that allowed him to tell there was magic at work nearby.

The book was still inside the secret drawer of the jewelry box. The drawer was resting on the bed, easily accessible. Except that Sen Eva was standing only inches away from it. She might not be able to sense his spell, but there was nothing wrong with her other senses, and he couldn’t imagine they could get that close to her without her realizing it.

He looked back at Meg. She was glaring at him impatiently. She was crazy. But she was also right. If anything was going to give them the evidence they needed, it was that book. And somehow he knew this would be their one and only chance to grab it.

Reluctantly, he nodded and squeezed her hand. She was still holding the vase in her other hand. Together, they took a single step toward the bed. Then another. Sen Eva had closed her eyes, the better to help her listen, Calen supposed. They continued to inch closer and closer to where the drawer sat waiting, the small book nestled safely within. Finally they were there. Sen Eva was standing right beside them.

Slowly, trying not to breathe, Calen reached out toward the book. Sen Eva moved slightly and he froze, his free arm stretched awkwardly before him. After a second he swallowed and began to move again. His hand was shaking. He prayed silently to the Harvester and the Lady and any other gods that might be listening, and let his fingers touch the cover of the book. He half expected the book itself to cry out some alarm, but nothing happened. Sen Eva remained still, listening. He didn’t know if he could actually lift the book from the drawer without her hearing it. But there was no help for it. He willed his fingers to steadiness and grasped the edge of the book firmly. With a final silent prayer, he lifted.

“Behind you!” the portal mage bellowed suddenly.

Sen Eva’s eyes flew open. Calen snatched the book to his chest and launched himself and Meg toward the door as Sen Eva darted forward. They were going to have to stop running to open the door, and he thought that would probably be the end of them. Even if she still couldn’t see them, she’d know where they were when the door began to open. Calen glanced back; her hands were already moving before her, that familiar red fire growing and glowing between them, strange guttural words sounding deep in her throat. Beside him, Meg suddenly twisted and threw the vase. It struck Sen Eva in the side of her head and she fell to one side, screaming, her spell dying unfinished as she broke off the incantation. The portal mage was shouting something, but Calen couldn’t make out the words and didn’t really care to try. Meg twisted back around, grabbed the latch, and pulled. Together they threw themselves through the opening. Calen’s shoulder bashed into the doorframe, and he dimly felt the pain blossoming there but couldn’t spare it much of his attention. They heard Sen Eva behind them, still screaming, her words mingling with the continued shouts of the other mage. Hand in hand, the sphere of invisibility still held tightly around them, Meg and Calen flew down the long hallway and around the corner and down the stairs. Sen Eva followed, but they could hear her falling slowly but surely farther behind. They ran with the speed of their fear and the power of their friendship and the exultation of what they had accomplished. Calen’s heart pounded in his chest, and he felt Meg’s own heartbeat pulsing in time through their tightly clasped hands.