“Come to Old Rillidi,” Mole said.
“Now?” Timo asked. “I’m not sure.”
Mole nodded. “You don’t trust me.”
“I don’t
know
you,” Timo said. “You claim to be a friend of Kara’s but I’ve only met her once.”
“And my name never came up.” Mole grinned. “Sure, sure. You haven’t stayed alive this long by trusting easily.” Mole eased himself to his feet. “I’ve said what I came to say. No Assassin will take Hestor’s contract and you will be welcome on Old Rillidi anytime.” Mole peered out the door before slipping through it. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.” He winked at Timo just before he shut the door.
Timo sent a flash of mage mist to secure the door. He would be a lot more careful in the future. Not against Mole—he didn’t trust him completely, but he believed he’d come on Kara’s behalf and wouldn’t hurt him. But Hestor and Inigo had tried to hire an Assassin. When Warrior Guild refused, they might try to hire someone else. Mole was proof that not everyone with the skills to kill him was Guild.
Two months. He had to stay alive for two months. Then he would go to Old Rillidi—he didn’t really have another choice—but it would not be as a runaway. Even his mother wouldn’t be able to stop Mage Guild from trying to kill him if he was a runaway.
ARABELLA GLARED AT
Inigo’s retreating back, plastering a smile on her face when he reached the door and turned to look at her.
“Was there something else, Master Mage?” she asked sweetly.
“Just wishing you a good day, Secundus,” Inigo said. He tilted his head and left Rorik’s sitting room.
Arabella wanted to throw something, preferably a spell that would kill that devious fiend. Her only consolation was that he was just as angry as she was.
“He used a spell on me,” she hissed. “To try to make me speak the truth.”
“Are you certain?” Rorik leaned close and peered at her. “He could be put to death for that.”
“I’m sure,” Arabella said. She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I had already set a defensive spell. It was triggered by whatever mischief Inigo flung at me.” He’d tried to hide his fury from her but he’d known his spell had been deflected.
“Shall I convene the council?” Rorik asked. “To try him?”
“No. He will deny it and ask for proof.” She shook her head. “And none exists. It will be my word against his. He has enough council votes to win if we put it to a vote. We must do nothing.” At least until Timo was her Journeyman. She should never have let him Apprentice to Rorik, but at the time it had seemed the safest thing to do. Inigo had just gained control of council, and of all of them he was the most suspicious of Kara Fonti’s continued existence. It hadn’t been long before he’d realized the truth and accused her of keeping secrets about the girl’s magical talents. So she’d had Rorik take Timo on as his Apprentice. But it meant she’d had to keep her distance or risk even more scrutiny than she was already under.
“Do you really think Timo’s accidents are a result of his clumsiness?” Rorik asked.
“No,” Arabella said. “There are too many and they have been going on far too long. They are using my son’s humiliation to shame me. But continuing to blame it on clumsiness lets them believe we don’t know they are behind them.”
“You should talk to the boy,” Rorik said. “He should know that he’s in danger.”
“He’s not in danger!” Arabella said. “They will not seriously hurt him. They wouldn’t dare.” They would—she thought they had already tried—but Timo had survived. It gave her hope that he had his sister’s talents—unmagic that she would use against Inigo once Timo was her Journeyman.
“But—” Rorik began.
“I said no! You will not tell him anything.” She smoothed a hand across her hair. “In a few months he will be ready for Journeyman status. This will all end then.” It wouldn’t end until Inigo was dead . . . which would be soon after Timo was under her control.
TIMO PRESSED HIS
ear to the partially open door.
He’d caught sight of Inigo leaving Rorik’s study. Inigo wanted him dead—what Mole had told him confirmed it—so he needed to know why the Council Mage was here.
What he’d overheard confirmed something else Mole had told him: Inigo was using magic on his mother. Worse—she knew but had no way to make him stop.
His mother could no longer offer him any protection. She couldn’t even protect herself.
Mole had thought his mother had been smart in the way she’d fooled the council, but Timo wasn’t so sure. He thought she was so intent on believing the lies she told herself that she was blind to the real truth.
Inigo wouldn’t wait until he was old enough to become a Journeyman. He would try to kill Timo—he’d already been trying kill Timo—before then.
Timo stepped away from the door and returned to his room. He took a few moments to secure it, magically and physically, before he relaxed.
Would Mole come back to spy? Could he tell him he’d changed his mind? Timo could probably leave Mage Guild Island but gaining safety on Old Rillidi was a different matter.
“YOU TOLD HIM
Inigo wants him dead?” Kara asked.
“Sure, sure,” Mole said. “He already knew.”
He was sitting across from her at the small table in her and Reo’s cabin. Reo had taken the children to the main house and promised to return with Santos.
“The boy’s smart,” Mole continued. “It’s not Gyda’s luck that’s kept him alive this long.”
“You didn’t tell us he was
already
in danger.” Kara heard the panic in her voice and took a deep breath.
She glanced up to see Reo and Santos enter the cabin. Reo took one look at her and sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his warmth.
Santos pulled up another chair.
“Someone tried to contract an Assassin,” Reo said. “Of course he’s in danger. If they could have killed him themselves they wouldn’t need to pay an Assassin.”
“Warrior Guild hasn’t given their answer yet?” She’d told Warrior Guild Primus Rualla that if they fulfilled a contract on Timo she would never clear their Guild Hall of magic again.
“No,” Reo assured her. “They won’t until they hear from us.”
“Unless Inigo and Hestor can make Timo’s death seem like an accident.” Mole paused and looked at her. “Which will be difficult considering how good he is at avoiding the most dangerous spells. They’ll wait for the Assassin.”
“Will he change his mind?” Kara asked. “And come before he turns sixteen?” Mole had explained Timo’s decision, but she didn’t understand it. Runaway or not, Mage Guild would try to kill him once he joined them on Old Rillidi. Arabella Fonti didn’t have enough control over the council to stop that, not when Inigo already wanted Timo dead.
“Maybe,” Mole said. “He doesn’t trust you, not yet—or me—and I can’t blame him for that, but he
knows
he can’t trust his mother. She expects Timo to be her Journeyman, which won’t be a good thing for him.”
“What?” Santos asked. “Mage Guild has never allowed a parent to formally teach their own child. How does she expect to get council approval?”
“She didn’t seem concerned about that,” Mole said.
“Does she know that Timo has unmagic?” Kara asked.
“She suspects,” Mole replied.
“Maybe she’s counting on Timo to help her control council,” Kara said.
“It’s risky,” Santos replied. “The boy isn’t trained.”
“Is she desperate?” Reo asked. “Is Timo her last chance to beat Inigo? She might try anything.”
“She still has Rorik,” Santos said. “Even if Inigo can convince council to move against Arabella, most of them won’t tolerate all-out war against both the Secundus and the Primus.”
“That sounds right,” Mole agreed. “The attacks against Timo, as well as the Assassin contract, have all been done by Inigo’s Journeyman.”
“So nothing out in the open,” Santos said. “Inigo needs his name kept out of this—at least for now.”
“We need to warn Timo,” Kara said. “He’s in more danger than he knows.” She wanted Timo here now. It was the only place in all of Tregella where he’d be safe.
“Founders Day is in two weeks,” Santos said. He glanced out the window before shaking his head and meeting Kara’s gaze. “I think it’s time the true Primus attended. I will, of course, require an entourage.”
“One of whom will meet Timo,” Kara added. “And convince him to leave with us.”
“Arabella won’t let him go without a fight,” Reo said. He gripped her hand and squeezed it. “Especially if she’s been planning to use him to save herself.”
“I’ve learned a lot about my talents since I last battled my mother,” Kara said. “I’ll manage her.” Timo would get to choose—Kara would make sure of that—and what her mother wanted didn’t matter.
TIMO SHIFTED THE
stack of scrolls he held and eyed the door. He’d been able to stay inside Rorik’s house for two days. Two days when he’d been reasonably safe from attack, safe from Hestor and Inigo. But now Rorik had signed these scrolls and they had to be delivered—
he
had to deliver them. And to the council! The last place Timo should go, knowing what he knew, knowing that Inigo wanted him dead.
His mother would be there. Could she keep him safe? Would she? She didn’t even understand the danger he was in.
Timo hadn’t seen her since he’d overheard her conversation with Rorik. Mole was convinced his mother had been protecting him from the council for years, and maybe she had, but that didn’t mean she would continue to. Especially if the choice was between protecting her son or saving herself. He’d be wise to remember that she’d tried to kill her own daughter. That wasn’t a mother he could rely on.
There were two traps that had been set for him, neither of which were particularly dangerous, so by the time he reached the hall leading to the Mage Council chambers, Timo was dishevelled and a couple of new bruises were starting to form, but he wasn’t really hurt. Before he approached the clerk, he paused to re-order the scrolls he carried.
“Mage Guild Primus Rorik sent me,” Timo said when the clerk finally raised his eyes to him. “I have documents to deliver to the council.”
The clerk’s eyes narrowed. “You’re his Apprentice?”
“Yes,” Timo replied. He leaned over to drop the scrolls onto the desk. “I’ll just leave these here?”
“No,” the clerk said. The smile he gave Timo had no hint of humour in it. “I’ll let them know you’re here.” He waved his hand, and a puff of orange mage mist headed towards the door.
“But there’s no need . . .” Timo’s voice trailed off when a second, golden puff of mage mist raced from the door to the clerks’ desk. A small bell that sat on the desktop rang once.
“Go right in,” the clerk said. This time his smile held humour, but Timo was certain that
he
wasn’t going to find anything to laugh about.
Timo stepped up to the door. Multiple threads of mage mist swirled around it, no doubt put in place by distrustful council members. He recognized his mother’s purple and Mage Master Inigo’s gold. And there, that pale blue colour. He’d been looking for that ever since he’d met Kara, ever since he’d understood that Rorik had been cursed. The door opened, and Timo had no choice but to enter.
The room was smaller than he’d expected—a room for working, not for show. Inigo sat at the head of a rectangular table, its wooden top scattered with scrolls and open ledgers. His mother sat to Inigo’s right, her small frown of surprise disappearing almost as soon as it had appeared. She eyed him coolly, purple mage mist wafting around her head.
Another man, soft with middle-age, sat on Arabella’s other side, and across from his mother, beside Inigo, a slightly thinner man of the same age stared at Timo with a bored expression. But the man on Inigo’s left leaned over the table for a better view of the intruder. Younger than the rest, with blond hair and fine, almost pretty features, Timo didn’t recognize him. But he did recognize the colour of his mage mist. The man straightened and with a flick of his wrist, a trail of pale blue mist slowly headed towards Timo. The blond Mage looked over at Inigo and nodded.
“Sorry to intrude, Secundus, Councillors,” Timo said, trying to keep his voice calm and his eyes off of the mist that was now only a few feet from him. “Primus Rorik asked that I deliver these to you.” He motioned with his chin to the scrolls he carried.
“Yes, of course,” Inigo said. “You can set them on the table, we’ll sort them out.”
Timo took a step towards the table, towards the mage mist. They wouldn’t kill him here, right in front of his mother, would they? He glanced at the spell, but it was complex, too complex for him to get a feel for any danger so quickly. His next step would put him in the middle of it.
“Good of Rorik to send his trusted Apprentice,” Inigo said. “He must think highly of you since he has no Journeyman.”
“Yes, sir,” Timo said. Then he stepped into the mage mist, and his feet skidded out from under him. The scrolls flew into the air, and Timo landed on his back, his breath knocked out of him. It took him a few moments to regain it.