Path of Honor (48 page)

Reisil grinned at her. Saljane had dined well in the past days, but on meat brought by the wizards. She had not wanted to leave Reisil’s side, any more than Reisil wanted to be separated from her. It was a good sign that she was now at ease enough to hunt.

Reisil slid off the bed and padded to the window, pushing the casement wide. The room flooded with brisk, mountain air. Reisil breathed deeply, shivering with the chill. “C’mon, you. Out you go. And remember the illusion. If you fly too high, you won’t find your way back in. If that happens, come to me in the valley outside.”

Kvepi Kaisivas had explained about the stronghold’s covering illusion and warned that if Saljane left the valley, Reisil wouldn’t be able to hear her, nor would Saljane be able to find her way back on her own. Reisil shuddered at the chance that their bond might vanish again, but Saljane must have her freedom. Just in case Saljane might accidentally go too far, Kvepi Tapit had returned them both through the maze to the mountain valley beyond, allowing Saljane to orient herself.

“The maze, of course, is not the only way out of the valley. However it is the quickest for someone on foot,” he explained. “Kvepi Kaisivas has asked that I serve as your guide until you are comfortable finding your way. I will show you the other entrances.”

“So I am not a prisoner any more?”

“You are one of us, and to be treated as such. You have long hated us, and we believe it is because you do not know us. It is our hope you will find friends here, a family, a home.”

“Even after what I did on the Vorshtar Plain.”

“Even so,” was his noncommital answer, and he would not be pressed into saying anything more.

It was too absurd to think that the wizards did not resent her attack on them in Patverseme. She’d killed a hundred of them and been largely responsible for their banishment. But they didn’t mention it, and when she made an oblique reference, they seemed not even to remember. Instead they had given her extravagant quarters and welcomed her with congenial warmth. Tapit had been as good as his word, showing her all the entrances to the valley as well as the buildings, gardens, stables, and the workshop caves along the northern and western walls of the valley. There was a small village in the southeastern end in which lived a variety of servants and retainers. It was separated from the main buildings by sweeping fields of newly turned earth, orchard groves and a swift-running creek.

“Few are allowed to leave the valley, and those who do are most loyal. Still, we do not care to be discovered by outsiders, and we set a minor spell on them to prevent them from speaking of the valley,” Tapit explained when Reisil asked about them. “We treat them well, try to assist them in any way we can. Their duties are not arduous, and most have plenty of time to practice an art or craft of some kind. We are not severe in our demands, and they are content enough under such a light yoke. Many were treated ill in Patverseme after our banishment, and they had little choice but to join us. We try to make the burden of exile and our need for secrecy as comfortable as possible.”

His explanation, like every other kindness and courtesy exhibited by the wizards, startled Reisil. The previous evening she’d been invited to attend the monthly gathering.

“We get so caught up in our work that we tend to forget to eat. We reserve one evening a month for everyone to congregate and enjoy each other’s company,” Kvepi Kaisivas explained over kohv. “It is very informal, and I know that the others would like the opportunity to know you.”

“Why?” Reisil asked, surprised.

“I told you. You are one of us.”

And indeed they had been very welcoming. They often had her laughing at jokes and pranks amongst themselves, stories of mistakes in their laboratories, social blunders, and general foolishness. They were so varied, so . . . ordinary. Like the people she had grown up with in Kallas.

By the end of the evening Reisil’s ribs hurt from laughing, and her throat was raspy from all the talk. Afterwards she sank into bed exhausted, more content and at peace than she could remember since becoming
ahalad-kaaslane
. Her ease of mind communicated itself to Saljane, and the goshawk had begun to recapture the playfulness Reisil had missed so much since arriving in Koduteel.

A knock sounded at the door, and Reisil started from her reverie.
~Come on. Out you go.
She crooked a finger at Saljane.

Saljane fluttered to the sill and then leaped out, sinking in a long glide and then flapping her wings strongly to climb the wind. Reisil shivered and pulled the window closed, wrapping herself in a red velvet robe before opening her door.

“Sorry to disturb you, Kvepi,” the maid said. Reisil flinched at the title. But they all had begun calling her Kvepi, and nothing she could say would change their minds. She was a wizard after all, they said, politely obdurate. “I’ve come to fill your tub before breakfast.”

Reisil swung the door wide, and the woman went quietly into the boudoir. There was a sound of running water. More magic. The wizards had all contributed equally to the comforts of the building. Hot and cold running water, lights without candles or oil, dinner knives that never needed sharpening, wineglasses that would not break.

When the maid departed, Reisil peeled off her robe and shift and padded into the boudoir, loosening her braid and letting her hair flow down her back. The tub was made of moss-green stone, four feet deep with a wide seat running along two sides. She eased into the warmth. Content with the temperature, she touched a pink beryl inset into the stone along the top edge of the tub. It would maintain the water’s temperature until she was done. Never before had she enjoyed such luxury. It was like having a private hot spring inside her bedroom.

An hour passed before Reisil could convince herself to leave the tub. She dried herself and combed her hair, then went to her wardrobe. Inside hung several black robes, plain except for the silvery embroidery around the cuffs. The pattern was intricate and artful, showing a goshawk in dancing flight, diving, swooping, gliding. Leaves and stars whirled on an invisible wind in between. They were so beautiful, Reisil couldn’t resist them, ignoring her old clothes piled at the bottom of the cabinet. Besides, wearing the robes would make them believe she was succumbing to their blandishments. Her own clothes would still be waiting when it was time to leave.

She dressed quickly and went to the window, leaning out to peer up into the sky.

And high up Reisil could see a speck of black. Saljane plummeted toward the window, catching herself above the level of the sill with a pop as she flung her wings wide. Reisil reached out her fist, and Saljane settled onto it.

Smugness. Satiety. Mischief.

She flung herself off Reisil’s hand and winged through the suite, twisting sharply around the furniture and pouncing in the middle of the bed.

Reisil laughed.

Now she began to preen herself, ignoring Reisil, who laughed again.

There was a flash of exuberance, and Saljane waddled to the edge of the bed, wings raised high, waiting for Reisil to lift her up.

“Of course, Your High and Mightiness,” Reisil said with a grin as Saljane gripped her fist. She transferred the goshawk to her shoulder, wincing as Saljane’s talons grasped the cloth of the robe. But the robe was impervious, and despite Saljane’s fidgeting into place, not a single hole appeared in the material.

“Handy, that,” Reisil said.

Kvepi Kaisivas met them for breakfast, ushering them into a solar. Reisil set Saljane on a waiting perch and sat down.

The Kvepi watched her a moment, a smile turning his lips. “You look lovely.”

Reisil flushed. “Thank you.”

“I waited for you this morning because I wanted to discuss something with you,” he began.

Reisil set her cup down, her heart beating faster.

“You want us to teach you how to use your magic, and we are pleased to do so. But I must make you aware of a problem before you can begin. When Kvepi Mastone and the others summoned Pahe Kurjus—the Demonlord—to the mortal plane, what He discovered distressed Him. He ordered that the Guild should be cleansed. Chollai took this to mean the banishment of those of the Nethieche branch of the guild. In particular, those of us who had participated in the plot against the Karalis.

“It was a fair decision, and I cannot object to it.” He lifted his hands in the air. “I would have done the same in his position. One simply does not disobey Pahe Kurjus. But the Demonlord was not done. Banishment was not enough. He changed our magic. You know what we were. You
are
what we were. But no longer.

“Now our magic is greatly diminished. Only the spilling of our own heart’s blood unlocks it. Any sacrifice we make not of our own bodies is useless. Greater spells may be accomplished if many wizards contribute blood to a spell, but this is exhausting and difficult to balance correctly. We have been able to store magic in vessels and artifacts. Over the course of time, you understand.” He pulled back his sleeve and Reisil saw the hashmarks of old and new scars. “And we may draw on each other’s stored magics, which enables us to make this building comfortable, for example. Additionally, with the retirement of your Lady from Kodu Riik, we have discovered many sources of ancient magic that in time we will learn to harness.”

At this last, Reisil felt a wash of fear. “Why do you tell me all this?”

“Because it will make teaching you difficult. We won’t be able to show you what to do as we would have before. We will instruct you, but it is not the same, and you may find it frustrating. I would not have you think we withold our knowledge from you. I know you find it difficult to believe that we would include you so freely. I have asked Kvepi Debess to be your teacher. I think he will suit you well.” He paused, a pained look on his face.

“What?” Reisil asked.

“Please be certain that this is merely a recommendation and you may, of course, decide otherwise. But the workshops in the caves are unlit. Wizards have no need of light, and it serves as an added protection against intruders. But it would make your goshawk quite uncomfortable. I think she may prefer not to accompany you inside.”

Reisil nodded. It didn’t matter. Saljane could watch through her eyes and never enter the caves. She noted too that he never referred to either her or Saljane as
ahalad-kaaslane
. No one in the stronghold did. They perceived Saljane as her companion, even a pet, but never conceded that either of them were anything else. If she was, then she couldn’t be a wizard.

Kvepi Debess proved to be a gruff man in his fifties. He had gray hair streaked with white and a thick beard brushed silky smooth. His cheeks were ruddy, his gray eyes quick and sharp. He was shorter than Reisil by several inches and built like a barrel. His fingers were stained with ink, and there was a red rime circling his fingernails. A glimpse of his arms revealed a broad slice across his left wrist.

“Come along, then. Don’t dawdle. I haven’t so much time as that, young miss.”

He hurried up the gravel path ahead of Reisil, his robe swinging around bare ankles, his feet clad in sandals. He dived into a cave. Reisil paused long enough to toss Saljane into the air before following him inside. She ran to catch up, matching his quick pace.

“So, tell me about yourself. What have you done? What can you do? Don’t want to go through the basic nonsense if you don’t need it, but I expect you have gaping holes in your understanding of magic, and you can’t just ignore them. They’ll rise up against you the first thing you turn your back, and you’ll find yourself visiting Pahe Kurjus in His own dark pits.”

“I—” Reisil began and then stopped, searching for words.

“Come, come. Out with it.” His words echoed in the cave.

“I’ve killed with it. Burned really. Several times. And I have healed with it—fevers, bones, but not the plague.”

“Killing’s easy enough. Blast of power, though you’ve got to find the power to make the blast, which can be tough enough. I heard about what happened back in Patverseme. A good blast that. Healing, though, that takes some control. Have any accidents in that direction? Healings that got out of hand?”

“No.” The thought made her cringe. She’d never thought about what should happen if she lost control during a healing.

“That’s good news. Unusual too. Surprised you didn’t leave a tangle of bones and muscle once or twice. This way.” He directed her into a side shaft that led gently upward.

“But that’s the problem,” Reisil explained. “I don’t control it really. When I heal, it just sort of happens, and I mostly can’t call up my power unless I’m angry.”

“Perfectly normal. Need some principles. Come now, in here.”

And he directed her through an archway and into a large room full of a jumble of tables with odd materials stacked on top and underneath, as well as in corners and on shelves. Several doors led out of the room on the other side. Kvepi Debess went to one of these and pushed it open. Inside was a plain room containing a small, square table and a single chair.

“We’ll start in here. Grab that chair there and bring it.”

Reisil picked up the indicated chair and carried it inside. The Kvepi had set a chunk of milky quartz the size of her two fists in the center of the table.

“Right. Now I’ll just set the wards. Don’t want to blow up the mountain if we can help it.” He shut the door and ran his hands over it, chanting softly. There was a brilliant flare of green light, and for a moment the walls came alive with symbols and patterns. After a moment, they faded into dull rock again. “That should do the trick.” He lowered bristly brows at her. “Hope it’s enough. The rest of ’em spent the last week reinforcing the wards, but what we can do is limited these days, and you’re powerful.”