The Magic Council (The Herezoth Trilogy) (25 page)

“Can we walk closer to
the building, Mom?”

“Of course we can.”

Kansten ran ahead, her
feet flinging sand. Kora lagged behind, out of range of the flying particles,
wondering whether Kansten’s fascination with architecture would fade when she
came to terms with her lack of magic.

* * *

While Kora and Kansten
took off toward the Ring, Rexson fingered the much smaller ring on his left
hand. He and Gracia were in the queen’s dressing chamber, a room large enough
to house five times the three wardrobes that stood against the walls. Still
clad in her silk nightdress, Gracia was brushing her long, chestnut locks
before a mahogany-framed, claw-footed mirror. The king had not yet chosen a
robe for the day, though he had put on his standard cotton shirt and farmer’s
trousers. He was running Kora’s advice from the night before through his head,
and failed to mark that his wife had not reacted, had not even turned, when he’d
walked in. She had seen him in the mirror and gone on with the task at hand.

“I’m to speak with
Dorane’s spy this morning,” he announced. “Should Vane and I wait for you?”

The queen spoke to her
glass. “There’s no need. I’ve seen the roach once, and that’s enough for me. He
knows what I wish on him. When do you leave?”

“An hour or so.”

“And return?”

“When we’ve reached a
sufficient bargain. I’ve no choice but to bargain with the lot of them, you
know I haven’t.”

“The spy, that worm,
he may not know you have magic.”

“Dorane could have
told him. I can’t take that chance.”

Gracia pressed her
lips tight and brushed the right side of her head with renewed vigor. She
seemed determined not to look at Rexson, so he took her upheld wrist and eased
the brush from her grasp. Only then did she turn to him, jaw set, eyes
dangerously calm.

The king said, “
We
can’t take that chance.”

“What
we
is there in this? Tell me, when has
there been a
we
?”

“There hasn’t,” said
the king. “But there should have been. I should have taken your fears and your
wishes, your pain more in account. I never intended to thrust you aside, though
that’s what I did. I focused entirely on the children, on what I judged to be
the best course of action to bring them home while avoiding public scandal. I
could have, and I should have, made some concessions to you. At the least, I
should have acknowledged your suffering.”

The queen appeared
stunned. “Yes,” she stammered. “Yes, you should have.”

“Gracia, there’s no
avoiding some give and take with these people.”

“There can be. We can
slit their throats like the pigs they are, like they threatened to do my sons.”

“Have you ever killed,
Gracia?”

Gracia blinked in
surprise at the question. “Of course I haven’t.”

“Well, I’ve had to.
I’ve had to, and I swear to you, you don’t want to handle the aftermath. You
don’t want to relive that day after day, restless midnight after midnight.”

“Rexson, you give me
the knife and I’ll slit their throats myself, every one of them.”

“Like Zalski killed
your father the day of the coup? And your uncle, months after that?”

“My father and uncle
were innocent. These monsters deserve….”

“These monsters might
hope we’ll have them killed, Dorane especially. Zacry took their magic from
them. They have nothing left to live for. I truly think we should force them to
live, out of spite. Out of spite, while making it appear like a concession.
What agreements could you accept, to procure their silence?”

“They want to die?
You’re sure of it?”

“I have a guard on
suicide watch.”

“In that case….” began
Gracia. She lowered her eyes to her slippers. “In that case, let the Fist rot
in prison the rest of their miserable lives. Or shorten their lives with years
of hard labor. I’m indifferent, as long as they never go free. You let them go
free, and I’ll hunt them down myself.”

“Understood. And the
spy?”

“He’s a scrawny whelp.
He won’t endure much. I believe I, I could come to terms with a sentence of
some twenty years for him. Vane told me his story, said Dorane’s more to blame
than this Treel creature is.”

“Good,” said the king.
“Could you live with a council of magicians? They’ll demand that, I expect.”

“As long as they have
no say in whom you appoint, or what the council’s role is.”

“I’ll make sure they
don’t.”

“Rexson, thank you,
for consulting me on this.”

“Those boys are yours
as much as they are mine, though I’ve overlooked the fact. I’ve been attempting
to balance varied concerns through all of this, including Vane’s desire to
support us. I wanted to allow him that without endangering him more than
necessary, so my attention.... The sole neglect on my part was you and your
interests.”

“And have you thought,
Rexson, about why
it was always my
interests you overlooked through this process? Unthinkingly, perhaps even
unknowingly?”

“Somewhat,” he
admitted. “Not sufficiently to draw conclusions.”

“I didn’t think you
had,” said Gracia. “You’re frightened what those conclusions are likely to be.
Well, I’ve pondered this through to the endpoint, on multiple occasions, even.
I’ve taken varied routes in the hopes of arriving someplace different, though
I’ve yet to do so. It’s nothing complicated: we never loved each other, though
we thought we did, the both of us. I can never doubt that. It was an act of
self-deception, one so strong we required the Enchanted Fist to reveal the
masquerade. Well, it’s revealed now, and between ourselves we need to cease the
act. I accept your apology, for I know you’re sincere. I don’t grudge you a
thing. Indeed, I’d be wrong to do so. You’re no more culpable for this
situation than I feel I am. We can and we shall move onward, but the charade
must end where you and I are concerned, it must. We must recognize this for the
political union it’s become, were it ever something more.”

Rexson felt as though
she had spat in his eye, and could only pray his face and posture did not
reveal as much. He would have seated himself, but Gracia occupied the room’s
only chair. He said, “I believe it started as more than that. More importantly,
I believe it still could be, though to salvage our marriage would require both
our efforts.”

“Our marriage is not
in danger. I simply question its foundation. If it were
a political union, would that be so devastating? My parents
married for political expediency, as did yours.”
         

“As I swore to myself I never would.”

“You haven’t betrayed yourself. Neither of us
realized what we were doing. We believed….”

“You have an excuse. You lived sheltered, but I
should have known, Gracia. If what you say is true, I should have recognized
the truth.”

“Because of that Porteg woman? Or the Duchess of
Yangerton, rest her soul?
Rexson,
neither Kora nor Brianna has a thing to do with us. No two relationships
provide for a flawless comparison. No single relationship maintains stasis.
Stasis is death. As for the two of us, we acted in error on good faith.”

“You’ve convinced yourself of this?”

“I’ve recognized I never loved you as I believed
I did, yes. I’ve recognized I can’t reverse my disenchantment. Rexson, can you
honestly say you haven’t suspected likewise where you’re concerned?”

Had it not escaped from him, just the night
before, that he had never loved his wife as he had Kora? Had that stark and
painful truth not been revealed by the mere act of standing once again in
Kora’s presence after so much time apart?

“I’ve suspected,” he admitted. “I should lie to
speak differently.” He returned her hairbrush, which she set on the vanity
before she rose and took him completely off his guard in an embrace nothing
less than passionate. He returned the gesture, and held her in his arms for a
full minute; her were eyes closed, her head pressed against his shoulder. Then
she withdrew, taking his hands in hers. A line of tears stained her face still
unmarred by any wrinkle.

“Rexson, we
shall
get on. The worst of the nightmare’s run its length, in all respects. The
children will return within the week, as soon as you pass sentence on those
fiends. As for our marriage, we’ve admitted the truth of where we stand. We’ve
allowed the light to enter, and our personal demons shan’t torment us by day.
We can live contentedly, more than contentedly, and shall relate better to each
other without the masks. I truly believe that, or I shouldn’t have ripped them off.
We were pretending to be lovers and destroying genuine affection as a result. I
was…. I believe I’d begun to despise you, and I couldn’t bear such
monstrosities to continue, could not bear it. You are far, far too dear to me.
I could not bear to lose you that way.”

“Gracia, you will never lose me, not in that
manner. Not through costumes and acts.”

She began to cry as intensely and he had ever
seen her, and he held her close once more, letting her dampen the front of his
shirt.

* * *

The room in Podrar’s prison where Vane and
Rexson met with Treel was no larger than a storage closet. There were no
windows, but the lamps on the stone walls proved more than enough to light the
space, even to heat it in winter, Vane would have thought. As the year had not
progressed into September, Vane started to sweat as soon as he sat in one of
four wooden chairs, the only furniture in the room. The king, he thought, must
be broiling beneath his robes.

Two guards led in a bound Treel, then left. The
metal door boomed behind them, making the captive wince. He winced again when
Vane cast a spell; it lit the walls with a glowing shade of yellow such as
Treel would assign to nausea. The thought made little sense, but then, Treel
was feeling quite nauseated at the moment. He sunk into an open chair.

To see Ingleton calmed the prisoner, especially
when the duke’s first words were, “You’re luckier than you know. We apprehended
Dorane and the other kidnappers. They’re in Yangerton for the present.”

Treel’s
voice held the faintest note of desperation as he told the king, “I never meant
him to threaten the princes, Your Majesty. Or your reign.”

Rexson responded, “I don’t care about your
intentions. I want to know what Dorane told you.”

Vane
conjectured, “Precious little, I’d think.”

Treel
asserted, “I didn’t know his goals, not fully. He deceived me so I would aid
him. I don’t deny that aid, because I gave it. I told him about your sons’
excursions, but that’s my entire involvement, right there.”

The
king prompted, “And Dorane never mentioned me?”

Treel
blinked in the walls’ glow. “Only in passing, if it all. Nothing that I
remember, at least. What would Dorane know about you? I was the one in the
Palace. He came to
me
for
information.”

“Rexson,”
said Vane, “I believe him. Perhaps I shouldn’t, but I do. He has no idea what
you’re referring to.”

“And
I don’t want to know,” Treel insisted. “I want nothing more to do with Dorane
and his….”

Rexson
looked disgusted. “Enough,” he cut off Treel. “This could be an act, and I’m
not taking chances. You’re to have no trial, you understand? We’ll arrange an
appropriate sentence right now. Fifteen years hard labor.”

“What?”
sputtered Treel. That seemed too good to be true. Much too good—he’d be
murdered in secret, off his guard.

“For
each of my sons you helped abduct.”

That
sounded more vengeful, and Treel breathed easier. Ingleton, however, looked
flabbergasted. “Forty-five years? Rexson, that’s a steep….”

“I’ve
no proof his involvement was no greater than he claims. I won’t accept Dorane’s
verification, should he confirm it. Forty-five years seems a fair exchange for
his life and for sparing his family the shame of a trial. He’ll be allowed
visitors.”

“All
right,” Treel agreed. “All right, I accept that. Forty-five years, fine. As long
as I’m not killed. I don’t want to be killed.”

“That’s
up to you,” said Rexson. “Keep your mouth closed. You’re imprisoned for a theft
attempt, we’ll say of my wife’s jewels. Political documents would make more
sense, but I assume you cannot read.”

“I
don’t read, no.”

“I’ll
spell this out clearly, then.” Rexson hoisted Treel to his feet by the front of
his shirt. “You speak one word, just one word for as long as you may live,
about myself, or my family, or Dorane and his crimes, and you won’t be living
much longer. If you think I don’t have informants within this jail….”

“I’m
sure you do,” Treel said.

“Rexson,”
Vane warned. The king released Dorane’s spy, thrusting him back, and Treel
stumbled into the wall, hitting his shoulder and the back of his head before
dropping to all fours.