Oh, Charis. Her friend tried to seem indifferent, but whenever she spoke of Rafel her heart leapt into her eyes. A few days after Uncle Pellens farewell ball, when she couldnt help herself, shed asked if Rafel ever spoke of her. The hurt when she found out no, he didnt.i.t was awful.
Rafes fine, Deenie said, cautiously. Only a bit upset that Goose is leaving.
Of course hes upset, said Charis, all swift compa.s.sion. Theyre best friends, him and Goose. She reached for a cloth and dabbed the bench dry. Snuck a sly, sideways glance, looking for a moment exactly like her old self. What about you, Deenie? Are you upset Goose is leaving?
She felt the heat rush into her cheeks. I dont know what you mean.
I think you do, said Charis. Havent you seen how he looks at you? I have. Are you sweet on him? Hes ever so nice.
And how was this suddenly about her and Goose? Charis, youre imagining things, she said, fl.u.s.tered. And Rafel is fine.
The teasing light died out of Chariss eyes. Well, good. Thats good, she said, and kept on drying the dry bench.
Deenie watched her, worried. Shed never come right out and asked Rafel if he liked Charis especially. She thought he did, even though he never spoke of her. She thought it was cause he did like her that he flirted with so many other girls when there were parties and b.a.l.l.s in the City. Girls he liked well enough, but not so much it made him uncomfortable.
Charis made him uncomfortable.
But hes still awful cross with Da, she added. If only theyd talk to each other, I know they could fix things. But theyre both so stubborn, Charis. Mamas at her wits end with the pair of them, and so am I. If we were still on the coast I swear Id push them both in the harbour, water-spouts or not, and then But Charis wasnt listening. Fresh tears had welled into her eyes and this time she didnt blink them away. And then she was slumping on the kitchen bench, her shoulders shaking. Over Rafel?
Please, please, dont let it be about Rafel.
Oh, Deenie, Charis whispered, the tears flowing down her cheeks. Im so afraid. PapaPapa, hesoh, I cant say it. I cant.
So, not about Rafel. And now she wished it was. Chariss pain for her father was a dreadful thing, as hungry as the whirlpools in Westwailing Harbour. But as her arms went out to hold and to comfort, she felt a fresh wave of awfulness crash over her. Sharp as broken gla.s.s, the pain sliced through her chest and throat, stealing her breath. She let go of her friend and ran for the scullery. Flung herself over the big stone tub, retching and retching, as her head spun and her body shivered hot then cold then hot.
Deenie!
And that was Mama, shaking with alarm. Charis must have fetched her from Uncle Pellens chamber. Blindly she turned and let her mothers loving arms shelter her. Buried her wet face against her mothers shoulder and sobbed.
Deenie, what is it? said Mama. What do you feel?
Mamas hand stroked her hair, over and over. But it only dulled a little bit the gla.s.s pains in her chest and throat. Da, she choked out. Mama, Das hurting.
She felt her mother tense. The softly stroking hand stopped. What kind of hurting?
The magic kind, Mama, she said, squeezing her eyes tight shut. And its bad. Its very bad.
Jervale spare us, Mama muttered. Ill make him b.l.o.o.d.y sorry he ever met me. Charis!
Charis was hovering in the open doorway, so scared. Aunt Dathne?
We have to go, child, said Mama. Tell your father he must stay in bed again tomorrow. Tell him Ill come back with another posset by the evening. No getting up, mind. Youll see he keeps under his blankets?
Yes, Aunt Dathne, said Charis, her voice wobbly with fright. Ill tell him. Isis Deenie all right?
Of course. Shes just tired, said Mama. Its been a long, exciting day. Come along, Deenie. Lets get you home. Charis Yes?
Run outside, child, said Mama. Find a cart or a carriage that can take us back to the Tower. Its too far for Deenie to walk when shes feeling unwell. Use Ashers name, to be certain of help.
Deenie lifted her head, ashamed. Saw the fright in Chariss face. Felt like a fool, and so sick. Oh no, Mama. Please. Dont make a fuss. I can walk. Charis, Im all right. Dont fret for me. Im only Hush! said Mama fiercely. Youll do as youre told. Charis, what are you waiting for? Go.
Charis fled.
Deenie, said Mama, holding her. Quickly. While were alone. Youre sure its your father? That hes meddling with magic?
She sounded so raw, Deenie broke free of her embrace and stared at her. Yes, Mama. Its Da. I know what he feels like.
The look in Mamas eyesshed never seen it before. Never felt this kind of frightened rage in her, not even down in Westwailing. Where is he, Deenie? Can you tell?
Reluctant, she opened herself to the messy, hot pain. IIm not sure. But I thinkyes, hes with Rafe. I can feel Rafe a little bit. Hes not hurting, not like Da. But hes frighted. And I can feeltheres something else. Power. A lot of power. A lot of strong magic. She tried, but she couldnt stop the whimper. I cant tell where they are, Mama. Im sorry. Im sorry.
No, no, no, its all right, Deenie. Mama pressed a hand to her forehead, distracted, so much fear in her eyes. I think I know where they are. I think I know what theyre doing. A sob caught in her throat, half-anguished, half-angry. Oh, Asher. Im going to kill you.
Trembling, she shrank from her mothers rage. Whats happening, Mama? What Oh, Deenie, its all right, said Mama, and kissed her. You mustnt be frighted, mouse. Whatever theyre playing at, Im sure Da and your brother will be fine.
Except she didnt believe it.
I dont believe it either. This is bad, like Westwailing. Oh, Da. Rafel. What have you done?
Da! Rafel shouted, falling to his knees beside his stricken father. Da, what is it? Whats gone wrong?
Hed thought what hed seen in Westwailing was something, but it was nowt compared to Da pouring power into Barls Weather map. Fantastic, fiery sigils, setting the air alight. The chambers gla.s.s dome had trembled, smashed shafting sunlight to rainbows. Hed felt his blood burn, his hair stir. Das Weather Magic called to him, shuddering his bones.
But now blood was streaming from his fathers eyes, as though someone had tried to gouge them from his skull with a blunt gutting knife. More blood flowed from his nose, even his mouth.
Da! he shouted again. Can you hear me? Can you talk?
Da didnt answer. Sprawled across the Weather map, he only coughed and groaned.
Barls b.l.o.o.d.y t.i.ts, Da! Dont let you die, you said. How am I sposed to do that?
Shaking, he pressed one hand to the Weather map then recoiled, sickened, feeling Morgs filthy magic all stirred up in there and spitting. Dont be a coward, Rafel. Da needs youand so does Goose. Retching, he touched the map again, and this time caught a fleeting glimpse of Barls magic. Stronger than it had felt before Da started pouring himself into the map so something had happened. Something good, before it all went bad.
He bent close to his father, pressed his lips to Das ear. Its working, Da, he whispered. Dont stop. Let me help. Take my magic, like you did in Westwailing. Take as much as you need. Take all of it, I dont care.
Blood bubbling on his lips, eyes closed, Da nodded. Hold my hand sprat.
Barely breathing, he wrapped his fingers round Das hand. It felt cold. Weak. Da wasnt an ole man. Why did he feel like an ole man?
His magics killing him. This is what he meant. Weather Magics b.l.o.o.d.y murder. Oh, Da.
Da groaned again, then opened his eyes. His face was masked in blood. Im sorry, Rafe. Its goin to hurt you. Worse than Westwailin.
I dont care, Da. It doesnt matter. Just hurry. Lets get this done so we can see you safe in bed, all right?
Das ole man fingers tightened, and he tried to smile. Rafel tried to smile back at him, his heart racing. Then he breathed out, slow and deep, and gave up his magic, all of it, to his father.
Furious heat freezing cold thunder and lightning and snowstorms in his mind. A high, sweet voice screaming. That was Barls voice, twisted in pain. Morgs voice, full of hatred, snarled beneath it.
Rafel choked, his blood turned to fire. And then he howled, because a whirlpool was sprung to life in his head. He could hear Da howling with him as the greedy, starving map tried to suck them both dry. The Weather Magic was pitiless. It was the worst pain hed ever felt, like shards of shattered gla.s.s slicing him to ribbons. It was in Da, not him, but still he could feel it, storming through both of them without pause or mercy.
DaDa He was weeping, and he didnt care. Da, stop. Theres something wrong. I dont think its meant to be like this Da!
Lost inside the Weather Magic, Da couldnt hear him.
Rafel tried to let go of his fathers hand, but he couldnt. The magic had melded them. Was draining both of them dry.
Without warning, the sunlit weather chamber plunged into darkness. Eyes bloodied, vision blurring, Rafel looked up. Saw ugly greenish-black clouds boiling above the gla.s.s dome. The temperature within the chamber plummeted. Hail rattled. Rain pounded. The chambers parquetry floor shook.
Da! Is that you? Are you doing this? he shouted. Da, youve got to stop! Da, stop it, please!
Beneath its wet, scarlet mask, Das face had drained milk-white. Desperate and dizzy, Rafel struggled to prise his fathers fingers loose, struggled to get free of him, to break the cruel bonds of magic before it killed them. As the sudden storm raged overhead, and the Weather map beneath his hand thrummed and sizzled and burned with power, he fought to save them Except he had no idea how to break a working.
But I can figure it out. I figured how to crack stones, and dance leaves, and make waves in my bath. I unpicked a Doranen lock and I collapsed waterspouts in Westwailing Harbour. I did all of that, I can b.l.o.o.d.y do this.
But before he could defeat the pain, he had to accept it. That was the hardest partletting the pain take him and shake him like a rat-dog with a rat. Surrendering, he sank himself beneath the surface of raw magic and saw the bonds of Das working like ropes of fire, binding him and his father so tight. But the scarlet flames were blighted black, infected by Morgs lingering malice. Twisted, distorted, they tried to destroy what they were designed to nurture. Burning, they burned him. He was weeping with the pain.
I cant I cant Das strength was swiftly failing, even as the storm beyond the Weather Chamber grew more and more ferocious. His own strength was failing. He could feel himself being emptied without mercy, feel the ravenous theft of everything he had, everything he was and hoped one day to be. His mind was spinning. Fading. Within heartbeats hed be goneand so would Da.
Now or never.
With the scant power that remained to him, trusting to instinct, trusting himself, he ripped the binding ropes apart. Destroyed the working link. Pulled himself free from death, and Da with him. He hoped. He heard Da cry out. Felt him shudder. Felt Barls Weather map writhing in pain. Felt the earth of Lur writhe with it, convulsing, and his body being tossed aside as the storm beyond the Weather Chamber shook its fist and smashed harder.
Rafel opened his eyes. Da. His voice was shredded. His throat raw. Da, can you hear me?
Da was groaning, his breathing harsh and disordered. Splotches of his dripping blood disfigured the Weather map. He was still sprawled across it, still trying to give it power. Rafel could feel his Weather Magic sparking, struggling, feeding the map and the storm beyond the chamber in mean dribs and drabs.
But dribs and drabs were enough. The damage continued.
NoDa, no, you have to stop, he said, and rolled disjointed to his hands and knees. Crawled by inches back to his father. Took him by the shoulders and tried to drag him off the map. Please, Daplease. Help me. You have to stop!
But lost inside the Weather Magic, lost to sense and reason, Da fought him. Rafel felt his tears fall hot, like burning embers.
This is my fault. Its my fault. I was meant to keep him safe.
Da, please, please, come back. Please let go. Come back.
And with the little strength that was left to him, the miserly dregs, like cracking stones as a spratling he wrenched his father free. Tumbled with him to the parquetry floor. Held him close, as though he was the father and Da was his son, wounded and in dire need.
I got you, Da, I got you, he whispered. Its Rafel, Da. I got you. Dont fret, I wont let go.
No reply. Could Da even hear him? What do I do now?
And then the chamber door flew open and Mama burst in, raging worse than any storm, soaking wet and steaming with fury. Deenie crept in behind her. Just as wet, but not angry. Weeping. Trembling so hard her teeth chattered.
She felt us. Oh, sink me. Of course she b.l.o.o.d.y felt us.
Whats he done, Rafel? Mama demanded as she strode across the floor. Whats the b.l.o.o.d.y fool done? Has he killed himself? Has he killed us all?
Rafel scrambled sideways as Mama dropped to the floor beside him and hauled Da into her arms. Hehe was trying to fix the Weather map. Fix Lur. With Weather Magic. Like he did last time. Hewethe map We? Mama demanded. Do you mean you were helping him?
Her eyes were so dreadful he couldnt look at her. He stared at the floor. Aye, he whispered. He asked me to. Mama, he practically begged me. How could I say no? But something went wrong. The Weather map, it Of course something went wrong! Mama shouted. In the chamber doorway, Deenie sobbed. The b.l.o.o.d.y maps wrecked. Its ruined. It nearly killed him the last time and he swore to me, he swore Dathne, Da said, his voice a croak, and opened his blood-caked eyes. His reaching fingers touched her tear-streaked face. Dont fratch at the sprat. It aint his fault. And dont fratch at me, neither, youyou slumsk.u.mbledy wench. I had to do it. I had to. I Asher! Mama screamed, as Da began convulsing. Began thrashing like a line-hooked fish hauled to its slow death on a pier. Asher!
But Da couldnt hear her. And over their heads thunder crashed, and lightning cracked, and a terrible, terrible rain poured down
PART THREE.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.
Arlin travelled to Dorana City in his fathers expensive, perfectly sprung carriage. Except, of course, it was his carriage now. It was all his: the vineyards, the mansion, the City townhouse, the treasury. The library. The Garrick estate, to which he was the sole heir. With so much wealth gained, so swiftly, some might say he should be grateful to Asher and Rafel. He was sure some did say it, behind his back, where they couldnt be overheard.
But let them say it to my face.
Nine days had trudged by since ignorant Sarle Baden had departed the City, leading the expedition that should have been his, too. That would have been his if grief hadnt felled him. If Baden hadnt shoved him aside.
And now h.e.l.l fail. h.e.l.l not find Lost Dorana. The fool. If hed not been so arrogant, so eager to usurp Fathers dream as his own. If hed been willing to be led. Then I might have helped him. Then I might have told him what Father knew, and I know, and n.o.body else.
Since the expeditions departure it seemed Lur was fallen to pieces, was floundering, aimless, as the length and breadth of its dire predicament finally was understood. The rain had returned, soaking into the still-soaked ground. The storms were back as well, causing fresh floods, and the earth tremors, more violent and vicious than ever. Half the Garrick vineyards were rot-ruined already, his envied inheritance turning to slime before his eyes. And Lur was rotting right along with it. Ashers fault, all of it. No proof yet, but he knew. Every ill in the kingdom could be traced back to him. Every ill My father is dead.
The carriage was slowing. Theyd reached Dorana already? Well, perhaps it wasnt to be wondered at. With the miserable weather and the constant fear of not knowing where lightning might strike, when the earth might tremble, gaping and greedy to swallow men whole, not many were willing to risk journeying far on the open roads.
He pulled aside the carriage windows curtain and looked outside. Theyd pa.s.sed through the open City gates and were heading for the General Council chamber behind the central Market Square. He saw rain. Mud. A scattering of wet, unhappy faces. Some misguided, self-deluded Olken were out and about, trying to pretend the world wasnt drowning around them. Trying to pretend they werent drowning with it.
Drowning. Westwailing Harbour, whipped ferocious and deadly. The cold shock of immersion as he plunged into the water. Pain and confusion as he was dragged into the skiff. And his father his father that last dreadful glimpse of him in the whirlpool. Screaming. Spinning. Spinning, then sucked under to die. Rafels faultand Ashers. Hed hardly eaten since. Who needed food with a belly full of hate?
I must have justice. Murder cannot remain unavenged.
And he would have itbut not by proxy. Sarle Baden might have had faith in the workings of Justice Hall, but he knew better. Father had taught him well. The Halls corrupt lackeys were not to be trusted. Besides revenge would mean nothing if it were not deeply personal. Meted out by his own hand.
At last the carriage reached its destination, and he strode into the Council chamber building intent upon driving home to the incompetents who pa.s.sed for leaders in this soaked, sorry kingdom that the great Rodyn Garrick must be remembered in blood. Asher might be lying on his deathbed but his misbegotten, unnatural son lived. His son could pay. His son would payor Lurs Olken would feel the weight of Lord Arlin Garricks heavy hand.
The Council chamber was in an uproar. Pellen Orrick, grey-faced and surely deserving of his own lingering deathbed, for he looked half-deadwas raging at the gathered councilors.
was right! Again! Why didnt you listen? If youd listened Asher wouldnt be paying the price for your stubborn disbelief! Barl save us, we dont deserve him!
Admitted to the chamber by two easily cowed City guards, Arlin stood unnoticed as Orrick sank sweating and coughing into his chair, and the unchastened Council defended itself against his accusations. Shouted at him, and each other. He felt ill, to be witnessing his people so lower themselves as to seek understanding from Olken.
We are Doranen. The greatest mages the world has ever seen. How have we forgotten that? How have we become these meek, mewling supplicants? Father was right. I never should have doubted him. We have betrayed our proud heritage, inviting our own destruction.
Speaker Shifrin, that fat Olken fool, was adding to the mayhem by clanging his bell, which not a single councilor attended. Shifrin was useless. So was Barslman Jaffee, more concerned with Orricks wheezing than in imposing discipline on the rabble. And Rafel? Where was Rafel? Was he even here?
Yes. There he was. Returning to the Speakers table with a pitcher. Watching him succour Pellen Orrick, pour ale into a gla.s.s for him and steady his shaking hand as he drank, Arlin felt a wave of loathing so intense that for a moment he thought he might not keep his feet.