The Magic Council (The Herezoth Trilogy) (39 page)

August and Vane shared a guilty glance that said
perhaps they had made a huge mistake indeed. The meeting was progressing far
from well, and Ursa had not yet finished. “You,” she said to Vane, “you got
some nerve waltzin’ in here, askin’ me to save your ass after trespassin’ in my
home the way you did. A life sentence ain’t enough fo’ you. You gotta have me drag
my own name in the mud. Well, I ain’t doin’ it. I got my pride, an’ I won’t
have all the folks back where I lived knowin’ I’m in prison. That’s why I
wanted to come here in the first place! But you, you don’t care nothin’ ‘bout
that. All you care about is beddin’ my sister, an’ now hushin’ me up to protect
your damn fool Portegs and coward of a king. You knew them all before the
kidnappin,’ didn’t you? You care what happens to ‘em? Well, the Portegs took my
magic, the magic that made my mansion. I agreed to my sentence, but I never
said nothin’ ‘bout no reporters who’d come snoopin’ when you married my sister.
If the papers are gonna be writin’ ‘bout me, they’re gonna get them a story all
right, ‘cause I’m throwin’ in Kora and maybe the king to boot. Why shouldn’t I?
It would take the attention off me.”

August wore a light shawl, and she tore it from
her shoulders to throw it in Ursa’s face. “Can’t you ever think of someone but
yourself, you miserable lout? Can’t you ever? The Giver help us all! I thought you’d
changed some, but you’re still the same selfish, classless….”

“What did you call me?”

August had never stood up to her sister like she
just had. She felt vindicated, empowered for the first time in her life, and
was not about to back down. “A classless, abusive idiot, that’s what. What does
Kora Porteg have to do with my elopement? Or the king, his children? Why would
you make them suffer because I stood up to the throngs outside Oakdowns that
are just as much bullies as you are?”

“Throngs? So they’re protestin’ your hubby, are
they?”

The situation deteriorated even more when Samson
burst into the room, Ursa’s guard at his back, causing the inmate to jump up
and yell at the man, “You ain’t allowed here!”

“Forget that,” said the warden. “My superior stopped
by and saw the log. He was sure there’s a story when he saw the duke’s name. I
told him it’s none of our business if there is, but he went for a reporter.”

August stammered, “But why?”

The female guard scoffed. “Because he’s too much
of a coward to confront you face to face by the exit.”

Samson explained, “He can’t come back here any
more than I’m supposed to, but a reporter can. The printing press is housed
next door, and there’s always some writer or other hanging around. You’ve got
maybe five minutes.”

August clutched at Vane. “What do we do?” she
asked. “What do we…?”

The guard told her, “You two can leave, but you
might pass the reporter in the hall. We can put you in the empty room next door
if you’d prefer. I’m sorry about this.”

“Ursa….” August pleaded. Vane was supporting
half her weight because she could not.

The prisoner told the warden, “Send that
reporter here.”

“Ursa, please….”

August could say no more before Vane shuffled
her into the next room over. She grabbed her hair and whispered, “Should we go?
Transport out?”

“I don’t think so,” said Vane, his voice equally
quiet.

“She’ll speak about the king, about Kora. Good
Giver, we just destroyed Rexson’s reign. If she mentions the kidnapping…. How
can we stop her?”

“We can’t.”

“Should we go back in?” asked August. “She might
keep quiet with you in the room.”

“The woman hates me. You heard her vitriol. I
would only get her back up, and the reporter would demand to speak with her
without me. I dealt with his type in January, and they’re relentless in their
drive to make names for themselves. To grow their industry.”

“You have to go in. Refuse to leave them alone.”

“I would have to leave sometime. He’d come back
tomorrow or two days from now, resentful of me and better prepared for the
interview. It’s best to let them talk.”

“How is that best? She’ll destroy the king to
spite us. She’ll tell the reporter we’re right here. Surely there’s something….
Oh, if you could make her keep her mouth shut! You can’t control what she
says?”

“I can’t force her will, August. I could seal
her mouth or something, but that would be obvious. At least we can…. I think I
have a way we can listen in,” he said, and cast a spell he had memorized a year
or two back but never had occasion to use. He murmured, “
Oyescuch
,” and Ursa’s steady, pacing gait filtered through to his
ears and August’s, as clearly as if an open window sat in the wall four bricks
thick that separated their respective rooms. Vane raised a finger to his lips
to warn August not to make a sound. Noise should travel both ways thanks to the
spell, and in the time they had taken to talk the crisis through, he had lost
the chance to warn Ursa they were party to her interview. A creaking door and
more footsteps announced the reporter’s arrival with a guide.

A brusque, deep voice demanded, “Where’s
Ingleton gone?”

Ursa asked, “Who the hell are you?”

“Byron Gent. I write sometimes for the
Partsvale Daily
. Where’s Ingleton gone?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.”

“I’m not playing games, Miss Hincken. Where is
the duke?”

August, her eyes squeezed shut to brace herself,
reached blindly for Vane’s hand and missed by a couple inches. Vane took hers
as Ursa replied, “Let’s get somethin’ straight: that’s none o’ your concern.
But he left a few minutes ago. You must have just missed crossing in the hall.”

“How in the world do you know the man?”

“He married my sister, yesterday. At the shrine,
if that makes things easier to verify. They stopped by to tell me the news.”

So far, Ursa had revealed nothing this man Gent
would not have discovered on his own, and within a day. No harm done. The next
thing Vane and August heard was a ruffling sound. Was Gent flipping through
papers he’d brought to take notes? Had he carried the prison log with him?

“August Heathdon, that’s your sister?” Must have
been the log. “How old is she?”

“Eighteen. Of age and then some, no scandal
there for you.”

“She left after barely ten minutes?”

“With her husband. We ain’t on the best o’
terms, me and August.”

More rifling, probably through the log’s older
pages. August squeezed Vane’s hand tight, and he couldn’t help but wonder
whether Ursa was hoping to discredit August’s name or to create a distance
between them for her sister’s protection.

The reporter announced, “She visits regularly.”

“To rub her life an’ her freedom in my face, she
does. Wouldn’t pass by the chance to gloat about her weddin.’ She’s a nasty bit
o’ work.”

“And you, you’re an angel, I’m sure. What
brought you here, Miss Hincken? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. That’s all on the public record,
ain’t it? I own quite a bit o’ land down south, near Carphead, and well, I got
angry when the king an’ his Finance Committee decided to raise property taxes
in my zone. I already paid plenty, an’ always on time, so I decided to get my neighbors
to band together an’ all refuse to pay a bronze piece. United front an’ all
that.”

“The prison director told me you’re in for life.
You don’t get a life sentence for tax evasion.”

“No, you don’t. But I had a visit to Yangerton
planned last August….”

“For what purpose?”

“Just a visit. While I was there I saw an old
friend o’ my grandpa’s like I always do, name o’ Crale Bendit. We were talkin’
an’ taxes came up, an’ I mentioned my idea of a united front. He had the gall
to lecture me. Called me spoiled an’ arrogant an’ idiotic. Said payin’ taxes
was a duty, garbage like that. My temper flared, an’ I hit him in the side o’
the head with a vase. Not as hard as I could have, that’s for sure, but he was
old an’ frail, an’ the poor fool died. That’s why I’m here.”

“I see.” The reporter paused while he finished
some notes, more than likely. August and Vane shared a wondering glance, and
next door Byron Gent asked Ursa, “So how did your sister meet Ingleton?”

“That sounds like a question for her, now don’t
it?”

“Surely you know, Miss Hincken.”

“I ain’t got a clue, actually. She met him after
they locked me up, an’ I already told you she and I ain’t close. She’s been
talkin’ about some guy real vaguely for months now. Told me he was a sorcerer
an’ he was bringin’ her in from Podrar so she could catch up with me. Never
mentioned his name, I didn’t know why. Now I do, ‘cause she brought him over
today. She’s been workin’ at the Palace, I believe. The princess’s nanny. Must
have met him there.”

“Your impression of the duke?”

“Hard to get an impression in that amount o’
time.”

“You realize who the man’s uncle was. Your
sister have any connection with magic?”

“Ha! Besides her husband? Wish she did, that
might make her a bit more interestin.’ She’s as borin’ as they come. But I’d
imagine he’s got enough magic for the both o’ them, don’t he?”

“Your sister mention why they came to Partsvale
to marry?”

“Again, why don’t you bother her with this?”

“Because I’d imagine she’s already back in
Podrar. A bit far to travel without sorcery.”

“My heart bleeds for you.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“I’d like to tell you tons. Unfortunately, for
as much of a snake as my sister is when she deals with me, she’s also squeaky
clean. I promise, if I could give you dirt on her I’d be more than happy to. I
got nothin.’”

“I don’t suppose she mentioned at any point
where Ingleton grew up? Where he’s been all these years? What name he went by
as a child?”

“Are you kiddin’? She’d never trust me with
that. I’m tellin’ you, you’re wastin’ your time talkin’ to me.” Ursa opened the
door. “You’re wastin’ my time too, an’ I don’t appreciate it. Go to the blasted
pair themselves if you want more, an’ good luck findin’ some dirt on Ingleton.
I’m as curious about him as everyone. Wouldn’t mind hearin’ they ran him out o’
town or somethin.’”

“How long have he and your sister known each
other? It started after your arrest, you said?”

“Yeah, September or October.”

“It’s soon for them to marry, isn’t it?”

Ursa’s voice oozed resentment. “That’s August
for you. Like I said, squeaky clean. Ain’t openin’ her legs without a ring, not
that one.”

The reporter left with no further exchange. Vane
and August stared dumbstruck at each other until the door to their room turned,
and Vane ended his spell. Ursa’s guard stood before them.

“I do apologize,” said the woman. “The prison
director’s a cad. I’m glad I could help you avoid that unpleasantness. Would
you like to speak more with Ursa?” August nodded, and the woman said, “I’ll let
you in.”

Vane told the guard, “It might be best afterward
if we transport out, rather than run across the director.”

“I’ll sign you out,” she offered. “But I will
need to see you go.”

“That’s no problem,” Vane assured her.

The guard let the two of them into Ursa’s room,
which seemed darker than before, and left down the hall to give them privacy.
Vane was not quite sure what to tell his sister-in-law, but August marched
right up to the woman with a look of resolution on her face that made Ursa back
away as though she thought the girl might strike her.

August threw her arms around her instead, in the
first sincere embrace she had ever given her sister. Ursa was startled, and
could only think to pat August on the back of her head.

“Could you two hear?” Ursa asked, and August nodded
an affirmative, hugging her tighter. “I didn’t mean those insults,” Ursa told
her sister. “You’re a good kid, all in all. I just figured you wouldn’t want to
come off as supportin’ me all that much, me bein’ where I am.”

“I’m not offended,” August assured her, finally
drawing back. “Ursa, I…. Thank you. I can’t thank you enough.”

“That cover story was brilliant,” Vane told her.
“I owe you one. Listen, when word breaks about me and August here, if the other
women start giving you trouble you let me know, and I’ll get them moved. I’ll
have the king instruct Samson to take you at your word and act right away to
transfer them.”

“I don’t think I’ll need that, but thanks. I’ll
just tell people you got my back. That should be enough to scare ‘em off. It’ll
take care of the director, for sure.” And Ursa retrieved August’s shawl from
where she had stuffed it in a corner to hide it from the reporter’s view. She
had even extinguished two lamps to throw that wall in shadow.

August told her sister, “We should go now.”

Ursa asked Vane, “It’s safe for me to tell other
reporters to go to hell?”

Vane said, “That’s my preferred tactic. Send
them word with a guard that you’ve spoken with the
Partsvale Daily
already, that your business is your own, and if
they’re interested in August’s they can come to me.”