empress of storms (9 page)

 “Be gone as I command!” she cried in desperation. She couldn’t fail, couldn’t let the demons get past her to Matthias, then Bardahlson, then the rest of Mons.

Another burst of pain, even worse than before, as gut-wrenching images of her worst memories and nightmares blasted through her head. She staggered under the combined blow, almost falling to her knees. “I defy you,” she choked out.

The demons laughed.
We are coming for you now, mage. You will be our first meal, and then the ones you protect. And nothing shall stop us—

Cool hands slid onto her shoulders. An enormous wave of elemental power flowed into her, cooling the flaming agony from her adept’s band and driving the demons back.

Danaë pulled the new power to her, shaping it, then thrust it not into her shields but past them at the mirror. Behind the dark surface the mass of demons boiled faster, trying to escape her lunge.
No! We shall have our prey!

“Begone!” Danaë shouted as the silvery power filled her to overflowing, leaping from her to the mirror. The dark surface seemed to bow inward, its inhabitants howling in pain and fury. 

There was a short, sharp pop. The scream cut off and the churning darkness evaporated.

Gasping for breath, Danaë stood there and shook, staring at the now-harmless mirror. After a moment he realized the hands were still on her shoulders.

She turned to see an old woman standing behind her. Dressed in worn but immaculate robes, the woman’s skin was a finely wrinkled mahogany, and her white hair bore streaks of the same jewel blue in Danaë’s own curls.

The Aqua mage smiled up at her, teeth white against the rich darkness of her skin. “Not bad, adept, not bad at all,” she said, her voice carrying a musical accent. “But you still need much training.”

“I know,” Danaë said, looking past the mage to the doorway where Bardahlson held a pale, struggling, but alive Matthias. And then she fainted.

4

TREASON 

In the queen’s chambers, Matthias sat on the bed next to his sleeping wife, holding her hand as if it were made of spun glass. He heard Flavia arguing with palace servants, and then Darius’s voice joining the fray along with boomed orders from Bardahlson.

He ached from struggling against the commander’s unrelenting grip. A bone-deep exhaustion hovered around the edges of his awareness, threatening to claim him at any moment, but he couldn’t leave Danaë. He ignored his physician’s demands that he should go to one of the guest rooms and rest, or at least consent to an examination.

Bardahlson loomed over the physician. “His majesty isn’t leaving the queen’s side, is that understood?”

The physician scowled back, but nodded. “Sire, would you at least consent to resting next to the queen?” he asked.

Matthias shook his head. He knew it was irrational, but he was too afraid that if he lay down now, he would fall asleep and let go of her hand. And if that happened Danaë would slip away from this world.
Like Hanne had…

The mage Flavia had brought had been standing in the corner, watching the proceedings. She had introduced herself as Magistra Aqua Ife, Matthias remembered. Now she approached the bed. 

“The queen isn’t going to die, sire,” Ife said, her voice low and lyrical. But he heard the command underneath it, the absolute surety that this stranger had in Danaë. “She’s strong and has much to live for. Do not fear that she will leave you while you sleep.”

Matthias rubbed his face, holding off his exhaustion. “I didn’t know mages could read minds, magistra,” he said.

Ife tilted her head to the side, her expression crinkling in good humor. “We can’t, sire. But I’m very good at reading faces, and yours is like glass at the moment.” She nodded at the bed. “Lie with her. I swear on my honor, it will do both of you good.”

He was too tired to argue anymore. Kicking off his boots with an effort, he stripped down to his tunic and handed his sword belt to his cavalry commander before climbing under the blue velvet cover. Easing closer to Danaë, he tugged her into her arms. She made a small noise like a child but didn’t open her eyes as she snuggled close.

She put herself between the demons and me. She risked the foulest of deaths to save me.
His eyes burned as he closed them.
What did I do to deserve you, little bird?

He could hear bodies moving nearby, and the light against his closed eyelids dimmed. Voices trailed off, then there was the soft thud of the door closing. Matthias allowed himself to drift off to sleep, the scent of Danaë’s hair filling his senses.

****

The next afternoon, an impromptu council of inquiry met in the king’s private study. Matthias had debated asking Chief Councilor Verheyen to attend, but decided to restrict the meeting to those who were already aware of the mirror. Reniel was the exception; as the religious head of Ypres, he had to be informed about a demonic threat to the throne.

Danaë had been ensconced in a place of honor on the old but well-stuffed couch, a glass of mulled wine in her hands. She seemed much improved after a good night’s sleep, but Matthias didn’t like the pallor that remained on her skin.

Magistra Ife sat next to the queen, at Danaë’s insistence. Reniel of all people had vouched for the mage’s trustworthiness. She was married to a glass merchant and was a low-ranking but respected mage in the city, although her form of elemental magic wasn’t as sought after as the more useful talents of earth and air. Bardahlson had thrown himself into one of the ancient chairs next to the fireplace, glaring at nothing in particular, and a grim Reniel sat opposite him.

A miserable-looking Mohrs had been persuaded to sit on a straight-backed chair that had been pulled up for him. Matthias himself took a seat behind his desk and studied his valet. “Mohrs, please calm yourself,” he said. “You’re not at fault for any of this.”

The valet shook his head. “I dressed you in that room for three years, sire,” he said, hands twisting in his lap. “I shaved you, cared for your things, summoned the physician during your headaches. And I never even suspected that foul thing was in the room. I should have known there was something evil going on there.”

“If you’re apportioning blame, I have to take my share,” Reniel said, slumping in his chair. “I blessed the room after Hanne’s death. Didn’t notice a damned thing wrong.”

Ife leaned forward. “You weren’t supposed to, your grace,” she said. “Unless it’s active, a demon portal can only be perceived by mages.” She glanced at Matthias. “I take it Queen Danaë never entered your rooms before yesterday?”

Matthias coughed. “I … no.”

“For good reasons,” Danaë interjected. He shot her a grateful look. “But the palace did have a mage at one time, didn’t it?”

“A Terra mage, yes,” Matthias agreed. Terra, Ignis, Aqua, and Aeris mages controlled the elemental forces of earth, fire, water, and air. “But Magister Jarl was elderly and had decided to retire before Hanne’s death. I meant to contact the Order of Quaternary Arts to send a new one, but then Hanne became ill.” Replacing Jarl had been the last thing on his mind at the time.

“An interesting coincidence, though,” Ife said. “The royal mage dies, and soon afterwards the queen falls ill and dies.”

Her tone was mild, but the mood in the room became charged. “You think Hanne’s illness was related to the mirror?” Matthias said, sick.

“I don’t know. All we were told was that she’d died of an apoplexy. Is that true?”

Matthias hated the memories that came to mind. “Yes. She’d complained of a headache and gone to bed early that night. In the morning the maid came in to stir the fire. I’d thought Hanne was still asleep, but when I tried to wake her she was cold and stiff.”

He’d shouted at the maid to go fetch the physician, and she dashed out of the room. Alone, he had stared in horror at Hanne’s twisted expression. “She had this look of absolute terror, as if she’d seen something monstrous. It prompted the physician to decide that she’d died of an apoplexy.”

The others looked at each other. “Was the mirror already in the room when she died?” Ife asked.

“Yes,” Matthias admitted, fists clenching. “It had been put in there that morning.”

“Gods save us,” Reniel breathed. “So the mirror may have been responsible for her death?”

“That would be a logical assumption,” Ife said. “The physician’s mistake was understandable, all things considered. The question is, how did the mirror get into your rooms in the first place?”

Mohrs lowered his head, refusing to look up from the carpet. Matthias understood the gesture. The knowledge had been boiling in his gut like acid since that morning when he’d remembered who had given him the mirror.

“It was a gift,” Matthias said through stiff lips. “For me. But Hanne took a liking to it, so I had it placed on her side of the room. That may be why … it attacked her first.”

“A gift from whom, though?” Bardahlson pressed.

Mohrs looked up at that, mouth still closed. It was up to Matthias to name his would-be assassin and the murderer of his first wife.

“My son,” he said. “Prince Lukas.”

The room went silent apart from the crackling of the fire. Danaë had clapped a hand over her mouth, blue eyes wide and horrified. Bardahlson had gone red with rage, while Reniel looked even grimmer than before. Ife, however, seemed to take the news in stride.

Danaë lowered her hand. “But
why
?” she asked. “I would have sworn that Lukas loved you.”

“So would I,” Matthias said, passing a weary hand over his eyes. “Nonetheless, the mirror was his gift. He said he’d found it on one of his trips and thought it would fit my personal suite well.” Until Hanne had seen it and hinted that night that there was more room on her side and the mirror would fit much better there. Knowing his queen’s minor tendency towards vanity, he’d given her the mirror.

She’d died the next morning, her face locked in a rictus of terror. Grief-stricken, he’d ordered the maids to cover the mirrors in her suite. The headaches had started soon afterwards, along with horrible dreams of Hanne accusing him of letting her die and sleeping soundly next to her corpse.

Matthias realized his hand was trembling and clenched it. “Unfortunately, there’s no way of questioning my son about his intentions or role in all of this. He was last seen riding out of the city after his mother’s funeral, and there’s been no trace of him since,” he said. “At the time I thought him as grief-stricken as myself. Now, however, I have to assume that this was an assassination plot, one that backfired and killed Hanne instead of me.”

Ife raised a small hand. “There’s something else to consider, sire. A demon portal of this type is forbidden by the Order because it requires a human death to activate the spell. Whoever created it is both a powerful mage and a murderer. I feel sure the Order would be happy to help you investigate the mirror’s creator. That may also lead you to your son.”

Matthias nodded. “Thank you, magistra. Reniel, can you take point on this?”

“I’ll send a messenger to the Order immediately, and I’ll have my people investigate as well,” the patrician growled, creaking to his feet. “Magistra, would you be so kind as to come with me to the cathedral? We can speak in more depth there.”

“If you wish, your grace.” She rose with far more ease and took his arm, a tiny form next to his bulk. “But I thought the clergy weren’t supposed to fraternize with magic users.”

“I won’t say anything if you won’t,” Reniel rumbled as they left.

Bardahlson also stood, fingering his sword belt. “If it please your majesty, I’ll send out word to our garrison commanders. They already have orders to keep an eye out for his highness, but I want to reinforce the message.”

“Very well, but do not tell them what’s been discussed here tonight,” Matthias said. “If he’s found, he’s to be detained and brought here, but with all due respect, understood?”

Bardahlson looked like he wanted to argue that point, but nodded. “If we find his highness, we’ll bring him to you in one piece and unbloodied.” With a bow, the commander stumped out of the study.

Matthias turned to his valet. “Has the mirror been moved yet?”

Mohrs jumped to his feet, bobbing his head. “It’s been locked in a storeroom on the lower levels as you ordered, sire. I’ll have the servants dispose of it as soon as someone tells us how to do it. Safely, I mean.”

He looked at Danaë. “Do you know how?”

“That’s above my skill level,” she admitted. “You’ll have to ask Magistra Ife how to get rid of the damned thing. Although if she approves, it might be an idea to keep it in safe storage.”

“For the gods’ sake, why?”

Her expression turned bleak. “In case you have to bring Lukas to trial. You’ll need evidence of his treason.”

****

Danaë sipped her mulled wine as Matthias gave further orders to his valet. Sleeping in Matthias’s arms had gone a good way towards recharging her depleted reserves, but she still felt a weariness deep in her bones, one that couldn’t be dissipated in one night.

Blinking, she looked up and noticed they were now alone. “Is Mohrs gone?”

Matthias sat down next to her on the sofa. She wanted to lean into the solid warmth of his body and reassure herself that he was still here. “I gave him some tasks to complete. And your magistra gave me some instructions as well regarding you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She said that you would still be exhausted after yesterday, and that you needed to immerse yourself in your element.”

“I see.” The thought of sliding into the healing embrace of water settled on her like a craving. “I wasn’t aware you had public baths or swimming pools in the city.”

“We don’t, but I think I have something that will suit you just as well.” Matthias stood, drawing her up. “Come with me.”

Minutes later they were descending a spiral stone staircase. Danaë was about to ask where they were going when the quality of the air changed, becoming charged with moisture. Her pores opened, drinking in the blessed wetness.