The Castrofax (31 page)

“She is.”

“Miranda still sits,” Cordis sighed.

They walked in silence and finally reached
light, listening to the bawdy voices of prisoners. Gabriel paused
to take off his coat and put it on his father. It would not hide
the look of a prisoner, but it would make the proud man feel
better. They left the dungeons, and Cordis smiled, breathing in
cleaner air and stretching his legs. “Where are your rooms?” Earth
energy tickled their senses and brought new light to Cordis’
eyes.

“With the Queen.”

“What part does she play in this?”

“She plays on her own side,” Gabriel replied.
“The side that doesn’t know what she’s doing.” A passing servant
stopped and gave Gabriel a proper bow before scurrying on. It was
not long before another two did the same, calling him ‘Star Mage’
and ‘Star Breaker’.

“What’s all this about?” Cordis asked, his
voice growing a little stronger.

Gabriel shrugged. By now every servant knew
who he was and heard likely exaggerated stories of his deeds.

“How much further?” Cordis asked after a
while.

“Not much. Forgotten how large Kilkiny
is?”

“So it appears.”

The fire in Gabriel’s hearth had not yet been
lit, but the water in the taps was hot, and Gabriel was quick to
draw a warm bath for Cordis. He searched through all the salts and
soaps, setting half a dozen out on the edge of the bath. He saw
Cordis pull the energy of the water into a pattern to heat it, and
he looked away with a sad smile.

“It has been too long,” Cordis said stripping
and sliding into the water. He selected a salt and gently scrubbed
at his skin. His body was pale and bony, so unlike the strong man
Gabriel used to know.

“You said something about Slade,” Cordis
muttered before Gabriel could slip out. In Ages past, a man’s
surname was part of his title, but as Mages weakened, it was easier
to simply say the first name and a Class. Gabriel would never need
his surname, for there would be no other Class Ten Gabriel in his
time. In Ryker’s day, all men used their surnames and his was still
part of his identity.

Gabriel leaned against the wall. “He awoke.
We suspect Nolen, and I wager Ryker had something to do with this,”
he said and shook a wristlet. Cordis’s face pinched at the sight of
it.

“Which is it?”

“Overturn.”

“So you still feel your Elements,” Cordis
nodded, and Gabriel shrugged.

“A fraction of what they were. Don’t worry
yourself.”

“Boy, you better not pass this off as
nothing. This is inexcusable. As soon as I get my strength back, I
swear I will strangle that Princeling—you can watch.”

Gabriel smirked and looked at the marble
floor, still steeped in denial. “Why were you coming to Anatoly
City? Was it really business like you said?”

“Of course,” Cordis replied and ducked under
the oily water. He laid a pattern and ran it through his hair.
“This got long,” he said and held the broken strands out. “Longer
than yours. I like the length you grew it to.”

“A lady made me,” he replied

Cordis continued to scrub. “How long have you
been here?”

“A few weeks?” A knock sounded on the door,
and when Gabriel called for admittance, a stoop-shouldered old man
came in with a bag and announced himself as the barber. Once Cordis
washed the suds from his head, the man shaved the scraggly beard
and trimming the hair back up to the short style it used to
hold.

Gabriel felt his father’s dehydration and
filled a cup of cold water from the tap. Cordis filtered it before
drinking. Having been without his Elements for nearly two years, he
used every pattern he could. Gabriel wondered how
he
would
be after two years without his Elements. Perhaps he would waste
away himself, grow wan and pale, graying early. With the Elements
in his father’s hands, the man instantly looked younger.

“Where is your valet?” Cordis asked.

“I can dress myself.”

“Well you look right smart now.”

“Aisling dressed me today,” he muttered and
picked at the black vest.

Cordis continued to grow younger as the
barber worked away the scraggly locks. When finished, he looked
closer to fifty rather than sixty. Cordis washed his hair and face
once more, scrubbing the dead skin away with fervor until he was
pink. Gabriel searched for clothes as the barber helped his father
from the tub. He selected simple gray trousers and a cream shirt,
with a short dark blue wool mantle with a fox fur collar to keep
him warm. The clothes hung loosely on Cordis, but after awhile the
man would eventually fill them out.

“Those men with you in the prison…” Gabriel
began, and Cordis nodded.

“Mages Malain and Oren. I must send a pigeon
to their families and the Head Mage. Malain arrived a while after
me, and Oren not long ago. There was a woman, Careese, who was
there before, but she hung herself when the she gave birth. She
claimed Nolen was the father by no fault of her own, and they took
the babe away. Mage Malain is a Creator, did you know?”

“I thought I recognized that name. Yes, I was
supposed to train with him, but when you vanished, so did we.”

“Oh, yes.” He faded off and looked out the
window. “Is Lady Aisling still advisor?”

“She is.”

Cordis nodded and bit his bottom lip. “I
should like to see her—tell her of this injustice.”

Gabriel led the way to her room, watching his
father’s glancing looks at the Castrofax. Aisling opened her door
relieved to see Gabriel, but her eyes fell to the man by his side,
and her mouth fell agape. Suddenly she flung her arms around
Cordis’s neck, throwing his weak frame back a few steps. Gabriel
raised his brows, knowing they had been friends, but this was a bit
extreme.

“I…I thought you dead for sure,” her voice
choked. “You are so thin. Where have you been?” she put hands on
his face and shoulders to feel the bones beneath.

“Prince Nolen had me locked in the incanted
room in the dungeons,” Cordis replied, his face tightening as he
said it.

“How did you get out?”

“My boy,” Cordis beamed. “Does Urima still
stand?”

Aisling nodded but looked up at Gabriel.
“What deal did you make with him?”

“A few things, here and there,” Gabriel
replied.

Cordis cut in. “We have much to discuss.
Gabriel tells me the world is falling apart.”

“Beginning with the stars,” Aisling
sighed.

“Someone
has
to tell me what that
means.”

Aisling nodded with a little smile. “I will
have dinner sent up for us. You look half starved. We will discuss
everything over a drink.”

A drink was much needed, to quiet Aisling’s
nerves, to calm Cordis’ excitement, and to distract Gabriel from
the deals he made.
‘I’ve read impotence can be brought on by too
much alcohol.
’ He drowned his goblet and refilled it. Aisling
unraveled the details of the past two years and of recent events
concerning Ryker, the lost Council Members, and Prince Nolen.
Cordis listened carefully, nodding now and again while stuffing his
face. There were details Gabriel had not been privy to. Council
Members had been found as specters with unnatural powers. Aisling
confessed she received two reports of specters; one who pulled
moisture from every person, and a woman who walked in the center of
a dust cyclone with enough strength to lift a man. Ryker was
working his old skills.

“I’ve never thought to ask, but at what point
did you receive your title of Lady?” Gabriel asked in a lull. “Both
your parents are still alive.”

Aisling dabbed at her lips. “Yes, the title
passes when the mother dies—or if the child of a Lord and Lady is
given family-owned property. My grandparents gave me land nearly
thirty years ago as far away from my parents as they could manage.”
She chuckled and sipped her wine. “We do not abide easily
together.”

“Which property?” Gabriel asked.

“A manor in the south,” she replied. “You
would not know of it.”

“
Lady Mage
is quite a mouthful,”
Cordis snickered.

Gabriel was weary of the stories by the end
of the wine. His current predicament did nothing to lighten his
dark stupor. It angered him even more that he could do nothing
while Ryker killed and reanimated spirits most likely with Void.
Gabriel read books that hinted to the existence of the sister side
of Spirit, but Void had been outlawed an Age ago after the Mage
Wars. Books detailing it had been burned, and knowledge of it
scratched from paintings and tapestries. The Element Void was all
but myth now.

He drained his wine and stood. “I will retire
early tonight,” Gabriel said, feeling the wine in his head. “Should
I find rooms for you?” he asked Cordis.

Cordis shot an inquisitive look to
Aisling.

“No, I will see to them,” she replied. “Good
night.”

Gabriel gave them both a nod and slipped out,
keeping a hand on any solid surface he could find. His father was
surprisingly unchanged in attitude though he had every right to be
bitter.

Gabriel slipped into his rooms to find the
hearth and sconces already lit. He unbuttoned his coat and walked
through the bedchamber, but suddenly the faint kinetic energy of a
body brushed his senses. He spun to the bed to see a woman draped
over the pillows, an open book lying before her. She closed the
book as their eyes met.

She wore a short lilac nightgown that clung
to her torso in a sinful way. Long brown hair, unnaturally curled,
fell to her waist. She brushed it over a shoulder as she rounded
the bed. She was lovely, tall for a woman with a winsome, lithe
body and full bosom. Her nose was straight and cheekbones high in
the Arconian fashion, and she had narrow hazel eyes under manicured
brows. She raised one and smirked as Gabriel backed into the
armoire.

“It took you long enough,” she said in a
faint Arconian accent. “I am Class Five Water Mage Mikelle Anlon.
Remember that name; you’ll be sure to summon me after tonight.” Her
accent revealed she was well educated, and her straight posture
said she was confident—two dangerous things.

Gabriel put his hands up as she stepped too
close. “No.” He remembered his oath to Nolen, but there had to be a
way around it. “I cannot.”

She closed the gap between them and took hold
of his coat. He tried to back away further, cringing like an idiot.
He had never been good with women, having wooed so few and spent
two years secluded with the only girl who understood him. Because
he felt so much Spirit energy, he did not like to touch people and
did not like to be touched. Robyn respected that.

“You certainly can, a man of your stature.”
She unbuttoned his coat and put two fingers against his chest. He
held his breath. “I can show you things you never dreamed of,
delight you in ways you’ve never thought possible.” She drew the
fingers down his chest and poked him in the ribs.

Gabriel’s brain stopped working for a moment,
and he opened his mouth nothing came out. She smirked and continued
to draw her fingers down. “I’m impotent,” he finally sputtered
out.

She chuckled. “Lie better.” Her fingers
brushed the edge of his trousers.

“I—I only like plump women. Skinny women are
too breakable.”

She laughed and continued her downward
spiral.

He grabbed her hand. “I’ve never bedded a
woman, and I’m not about to start with you,” he said, his voice
gaining strength. “I’m saved for my lady love.”

Slowly, surprisingly, she gave him a sly
smile and took a step back. “I was hoping you would say as
much—though the alternative would not have been dreadful.” He
released her hand, and she glided to the two plush chairs before
the hearth and sat down. “Join me,” she commanded.

He regarded her carefully and took the long
way around to stay furthest away from her. She adjusted the bosom
of her dress but did nothing to hide the full flesh. He averted his
gaze after getting a pleasant eyeful and swallowed.
‘Dead
puppies, dead puppies….’

“I was quite pleased to be chosen by Nolen as
the first. Did you know how terrified you looked on the dais? I was
certain you were pure by your stiff reactions.” She crossed her
legs and folded her hands. “I’m here to help you.”

“Explain.”

“I shall,” she smirked. “I was sent to see
what was happening in Anatoly.”

‘
A likely story.’
He narrowed his own
eyes. “You’re a spy.”

She laughed heartily. “Tell anyone, and I’ll
kill you.” Her face was joyful; her tone was serious. “Nolen
brought tremendous stories, saying he captured and broke you. I was
sent to see if such stories were true.”

“I am not broken,” he replied defiantly.

“So I noticed.”

“Who sent you?”

“Dear boy, if I give you all my secrets, it
would leave me more vulnerable than you.” She leaned forward and
snatched his hand. She looked at the copper wristlet, turning his
hand over in hers, not making contact with the metal. Her face was
sad when she handed it back moments later. “I am not the only one.
I have three companions. We will begin by dominating your evenings.
I have one girl buried in the library here looking for anything on
Castrofax, and the other two are scouting the other Arconians to
see who should be…restrained. You should prepare yourself should
one slip through our grasp. There are a few among them who would
give both their hands to bear a Class Ten’s child, and they will
use any measure of force to get it.”

“I can fight them off,” he said and stared
into the flames.

“Not without your Elements,” she said and
touched a hand to his knee. Arconians always made physical contact
in conversations. It was so rare for Anatolians to touch, and he
almost pushed her hand away before remembering their culture.
“Should we fail, you need to accept they will come for you.”