The Law of Isolation (51 page)

Josiah clenched his fists. “But—” He bit off his words as Elkan shot him a quelling look.

Gevan sank back in his chair. What was he going to do now? He’d have to go back to the Matriarch and tell her he’d failed. Would she really send the Armada against Tevenar? And if she did, would it avail her anything to capture a wizard and bring him by force to Ramunna? The wizards were so certain their Law would prevent them from working their magic outside the bounds of their land. Maybe there was no way to stop the Purifiers now. Maybe this decision had given them the victory. Just as they’d planned when they sent their assassin.

Applause, enthusiastic from some, polite from others, answered Hanion’s words. He waited for it to die down before going on. “I want all of you to know that I will do my utmost to lead you in accordance with the will of the Mother, as she gives me grace to understand it. I will be guided always by the example of our beloved Master Dabiel, who I can never hope to equal, but who I will emulate to the best of my ability.”

Again he paused to let his listeners applaud. Josiah made a rude noise and twisted in his chair to stare pointedly away, crossing his arms. A childish part of Gevan would have liked to do the same. Instead he forced himself to give Hanion his attention, though he couldn’t bring himself to clap.

Hanion took a deep breath. “After much thought and prayer, I’ve come to a decision. As we all know, Dabiel sought to contact the Mother, fasting in order to request her presence. But her attempt failed. The Mother didn’t answer.”

Josiah jerked upright. A thread of gold light shot from Elkan’s hand and pooled around Josiah’s mouth, silencing him. The boy glared at his master, outraged. Elkan looked sternly back until Josiah crumpled and indicated by a roll of his eyes that he’d comply. Elkan took his hand off Tobi’s head and the light died.

Josiah wasn’t the only one upset by Hanion’s words, but the Guildmaster plowed on over the buzz of reaction. “I don’t believe this was due solely to the untimely interruption. I feel her attempt to demand the Mother’s attention outside the proper time was unwise, and I don’t intend to repeat it. I’ll wait and meet with her next spring, as Law and tradition dictate. Therefore, the Law of Isolation stands. No citizen of Tevenar may venture beyond the Boundary Stones. No familiar will maintain a bond with any wizard who violates that Law.”

Hanion looked pointedly at Elkan as he said this. Elkan bowed his head without any sign of dissent. Josiah scowled. Kevessa, who’d been sitting straight and attentive, sank back with a little sigh, her eyes clouded. Gevan reached for her hand and squeezed it. He tried to convey his determination to protect her, no matter what it took.

Hanion went on, turning his gaze to Gevan. “I’m afraid that means we’ll be unable to uphold our side of the agreement Dabiel made with our guests from Ramunna.” He spread his hands. “I’m sorry, Ambassador Gevan, but as much as we might wish to work together to our mutual advantage, the Mother’s Law prevents it. Please carry our regrets to the Matriarch.” He looked at Gevan expectantly.

Gevan slowly rose. His joints felt stiff, as if the whole room must hear them creak as they unfolded. He wanted to protest, but found he could think of nothing that might make a difference. He nodded curtly. “Our ship is ready to sail. We’ll leave in the morning.” He started to sit, but found he did have one thing to say, after all. “The Matriarch will be greatly displeased with your decision. I’ll do my best to placate her, but be warned, her anger will burn hot against you. I can’t be responsible for what she does.” He sat down.

Voices rose in reaction to his words, but Hanion raised a hand to quiet them. “I understand, Ambassador Gevan. But unless the Mother chooses to communicate with us and convey her will more directly, we have no choice but to follow her Law.” He waited until Gevan gave him a cursory nod, then turned back to the rest of the room. “I wish to thank the masters of the guild for the thoughtful and devoted service you’ve given today—”

Next to Gevan, Kevessa’s skirts rustled. He turned to her, baffled. Surely she wouldn’t be so rude as to rise to leave while the Guildmaster was speaking.

Kevessa stared down. A grey squirrel clawed its way up the satin of her skirt. She lowered a hand to assist its climb. “Nina? What are you doing here?” she whispered.

The squirrel reached her lap. It reared to its hind legs and gazed into Kevessa’s eyes. Then it twisted and sank its long yellow incisors into the fleshy pad at the base of Kevessa’s thumb. Kevessa cried out and jerked her hand up.

Gevan lunged to dash the vicious animal away, but Elkan seized his arm in an iron grip, dragging him back. “Wait,” he murmured in Gevan’s ear, voice breathless with surprise and—hope? “Don’t interfere.”

The squirrel, instead of continuing to attack, pulled back and raised a paw to its mouth. It nipped its own paw with the same neat bite it had used on Kevessa. She stared at it, shocked, as it thrust its tiny bleeding hand onto her wound. The squirrel’s blood mingled with hers.

Kevessa went rigid. Her eyes unfocused, then closed. Gevan could see them jerking and darting beneath the lids, as if she dreamed. Her lips parted and quivered soundlessly.

He didn’t understand the excited chatter that rose from the wizards around him, or the look of incredulous delight that spread across Josiah’s face, or why Elkan kept such tight hold of him, preventing him from going to Kevessa’s rescue. He twisted in the wizard’s grip. “Let go of me! My daughter—”

“Wait,” Elkan repeated. “Watch. In a moment you’ll see.”

Gevan struggled again, but Elkan’s grip was relentless. He gave up and stared, like everyone else in the room, at the squirrel’s paw pressed into Kevessa’s hand, blood dripping down their wrists and onto Kevessa’s skirts.

A ball of shimmering golden light bloomed around the spot where they touched. Unbelieving, Gevan watched as Kevessa opened her eyes, her gaze going from her glowing hand to the squirrel who gazed back at her, equally rapt. After a moment she pulled her hand away and the light winked out. She turned her palm up to examine it. Gevan could see the place where the bite had been. Only a curved scar remained, pink against her brown skin. Kevessa blinked and reached to stroke the squirrel with a trembling hand.

She looked up, her eyes sweeping around to focus first on Gevan, then on and Elkan and Josiah, before she looked across the room to Hanion. The Guildmaster gaped at her. Slowly she rose to her feet, cradling the squirrel in her arms. She twisted from side to side, including everyone in the room in her words. “I’m supposed to tell you—”

Her voice shook, and she stopped to take a deep breath. When she began again, her voice was louder and more confident. “The Mother says the Law of Isolation is no more. The people of Tevenar may travel wherever they wish. Wizards and familiars are free to pass beyond the boundary stones if they so choose. The gift of her power is no longer given only to the people of Tevenar, but to the whole world.”

Gevan rocked back in his chair. He couldn’t accept the truth of what had just happened, but he couldn’t deny it, either. His thoughts circled in an endless repeating loop, playing over and over before his mind’s eye the instant when the Mother’s healing power had burst from his daughter’s hand.

Josiah jumped up, knocking his chair over in his excitement. “Kevessa! The Mother made you a wizard!” He threw his arms around her in an exuberant embrace.

This, at least, was easy for Gevan to understand. He glowered at Josiah, rising to his feet. A part of him welcomed the distraction from more baffling matters.

Josiah released Kevessa and stepped back, but he couldn’t stay still. He bounced on his toes, hugging himself, watching Kevessa with eager eyes.

She gave a little incredulous laugh. She blinked at Josiah, then her wondering gaze fell to the squirrel in her arms. It chattered at her, stretching its nose toward hers. “I didn’t—Josiah, you never told me—” Her eyes rose back to his, and a tentative but quickly widening smile answered his broad grin.

Gevan was about to interpose himself between the two when Elkan laid a hand on his arm. He turned to the wizard, scowling.

“It’s all right, Gevan.” All the weary heaviness was gone from Elkan’s features, replaced by quiet, radiant joy. “Don’t you see? I can go with you, now. Our bargain can stand. Everything is going to be all right.”

“Oh. Of course.” Gevan felt as if his comprehension was lagging several minutes behind events. But gradually the full sense of Elkan’s words began to penetrate. He took a deep breath, and shook his head. Maybe, just maybe, this might prove a good thing, after all.

“Ambassador Gevan.” Gevan looked up to see Hanion striding towards them. The new Guildmaster swept his eyes over them as he approached, lingering on Kevessa before settling back on Gevan. “What a wonderful surprise!” He seized Gevan’s hands in both of his. “The Mother has provided the perfect solution to our dilemma.”

“We should have known she would,” Elkan said. “For all our worry and fuss, she’s taken matters into her own hands.” He extended a hand to Hanion.

Hanion released Gevan and accepted it with a firm clasp. “Exactly. What a joy to be able to set our differences aside.” He beamed at both of them. The relaxed smile transformed his craggy face in a way Gevan found a great improvement. He almost found himself liking the gruff Guildmaster. Maybe Elkan had been right, and the man had only ever acted from honest conviction.

“Your daughter,” Hanion went on, nodding toward Kevessa, who was watching and listening with quiet attentiveness, “will be able to minister to your Matriarch. Tevenar’s portion of our bargain will be fulfilled. Ramunna will send the agreed-upon payment, and our two nations can enjoy a peaceful and satisfying conclusion to our dealings.”

Elkan looked from Kevessa to Hanion, his smile fading. “I must not understand you correctly. Surely you don’t intend to send Kevessa to Ramunna alone?”

“She won’t be alone. Her father will be with her.” Hanion fixed Elkan with a pleasant but implacable gaze.

“No, I mean—she’ll need a master. From what Gevan has told me of the Matriarch’s condition, it’s complex, well beyond the abilities of an untrained apprentice.” Gevan could tell from the set of Elkan’s mouth and the earnestness of his voice how badly he wanted the older wizard to be reasonable and yield to his sensible arguments.

But for Hanion, Gevan saw, this went beyond reason. It was a personal contest between him and Elkan, and he wasn’t about to surrender. His face remained cordial. “The Mother will be with her. And Nina’s had training.”

“Not enough. You have to send someone else with her. I—”

“You have an apprentice.” Hanion twisted his head to indicate Josiah, who’d calmed from his initial exuberance and now stood with his arms around his donkey, watching the two masters with his mouth hanging open. “One who’s repeatedly tested the limits of your ability to control him.”

Josiah flinched at that, though Elkan didn’t. He met Hanion’s gaze levelly. “Josiah could stay here. Master Dabiel agreed to take over as his master when she approached me about accompanying Ambassador Gevan back to Ramunna. Perhaps you could take him on.”

Josiah made a strangled sound. Hanion ignored him. “While I’d welcome the opportunity to supervise Josiah’s education, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible. Whatever Master Dabiel planned, I’m Guildmaster now. You and the other master wizards are needed here in Tevenar. As a foreigner in Tevenar, Kevessa doesn’t fall under the jurisdiction of the Wizards’ Guild. We have no obligation to provide her with a master. It’s my decision that she and Nina—and
only
the two of them—will return to Ramunna with Ambassador Gevan. The Mother will provide whatever guidance she needs.”

Elkan stepped back. His eyes meeting Hanion’s had gone cold. “I see.” He inclined his head. “I acknowledge your decision, Guildmaster.”

“And will abide by it?”

Elkan said nothing, only kept his head bowed.

After a moment Hanion snorted. “You have my permission to give Kevessa a brief introduction to wizardry.” He nodded curtly at Elkan, more formally to Gevan, and strode away. The ring of wizards that had formed around them to watch the confrontation surged after him, peppering him with questions. Hanion answered in calming, conciliatory tones as he moved across the room.

Elkan stood watching him until Josiah darted past Gevan to seize his arm. “You can’t let him do that! He can’t send Kevessa off alone! Even if—” He gulped.

Elkan put a hand on his shoulder. “Later.”

“But master—”

“Hush!” Elkan jerked his head toward Hanion. “We must respect Guildmaster Hanion’s decision. Do you understand?”

Josiah subsided under Elkan’s steady gaze and muttered a surly, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now head back to your room. It’s late, and you need your sleep.”

“But I want to help you show Kevessa—”

“Go.” Elkan pointed toward the door.

“All right.” Josiah’s feet dragged, but he went. The donkey pressed close to his heels. He flashed a half-hearted grin at Kevessa as he passed. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Kevessa bobbed a curtsy at him.

Gevan kept his gaze on Kevessa as she watched Josiah leave. She was a stranger to him again, more so than ever before. The squirrel had taken up a perch on her shoulder. It watched everything that transpired with bright, beady eyes. Gevan desperately wanted to snatch it away from his daughter. He’d wring its neck, crush its skull, fling it to the floor and stomp on it, anything to break the connection that had ensnared Kevessa and transformed her into something alien and unknowable.

He almost did it. But the echo of Elkan’s words ringing in his memory stopped him.
It’s very hard to kill a wizard…

Elkan stepped toward Kevessa, but she held up a hand. “One moment, Master Elkan.” He nodded.

Kevessa turned to Gevan, approaching him tentatively. “Father… this is Nina. My familiar. Nina, this is my father.”

The squirrel chittered at him. He forced a smile to his lips, though he feared it must appear sickly. “Nina.”

Kevessa took a few quick steps toward him, bringing the squirrel on her shoulder so close Gevan could hear its tiny rapid breaths. She grabbed his hands. “Father, I saw her. The Mother. I spoke with her. She is real, Father, just as real as you or I. She asked me… if I was willing to serve her as a wizard. To humble myself, to be bonded to Nina so I could never use her power against her will. I told her I was. I am. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of, Father. Please don’t be angry with me.” Her voice trembled on the edge of tears.