The Prodigal Mage Part 18

Aye, said Asher, and clambered awkwardly to his feet. Thats what I thought.

The chamber door closed very gently behind him.

Dathne sat in the garden that used to be Gars private bower, the one he and Fane had destroyed with fury and glimfire, and tried to ease her jangled nerves by embroidering a small tapestry. The sunlight warmly caressed her skin, a welcome simplicity after the nights cold terrors. Remembering, she jabbed the needle into her finger. Sucked at the ruby-red bead of blood, softly swearing, then thrust aside the awfulness, just as shed thrust aside so many bloodied, haunting memories.

She was getting very good at doing that.

With a sigh, she considered the tapestry. A pity Im not getting good at this too. But such sedate pursuits had never been her strong point. Business and books and herblore and visions. Bossing people. Those were her talents. Or had been, once. Teaching. She was good at teaching. In the first years following the Walls destruction it had meant everything to her, pa.s.sing along to Olken children what she knew of Olken magic and its ways. Telling them their history. Making sure they knew the truth, when the truth was still new and imperfectly known.

But now everybody knew it. Lurs history was taught in every school and chapel these days. Nothing hidden. No more secrets.

Well. No more but one.

And suddenly the sunlight lost its caressing warmth and she was shivering, once more burdened with shadowed knowledge.

I thought it was over. It was meant to be over.

Hey now, said Asher, dropping to the stone bench beside her. Appearing when he was needed most, like always. Blindly she turned to him, embroidery hoop dropping heedless to the gra.s.s, and blindly she hid her cold face against his chest.

I know, I know, he said, rocking her. I know, Dath. I know.

And he did know. It was her only solace, that in her pain for her children she wasnt alone.

The bowers carefully nurtured flowers scented the air sweet and fresh. Bees droned sleepily, and in the branches of the fussy tarla tree small green t.i.tbirds bobbed and chirped. Early spring was upon them, and Lur was reborn. Calming, she eased herself free of Ashers tight, almost suffocating embrace. Caught sight of his face and lost her breathing again.

What? Did something happen in Council?

Aye, ymight say that. His voice was low, his eyes miserable. Seems there be folk talkin to Jaffee about funny things theyve felt. He told the Council and now they all know somethins wrong.

And what else? Because she knew there was something else. She knew every mood in him, every twist and turn of his heart.

I lied to em, Dath, he said. Told em I aint felt a b.l.o.o.d.y thing. They believed me for now, but He shook his head. That wont last long. Thady and Eylin aint felt it yet, but once they do they wont believe their precious Innocent Mage cant feel it. Rodyn Garrick neither, nor any other Doranen. So So. She knew what that meant. WeatherWorking. Frozen, untouchable by sunlight or any warmth, she slithered off the garden seat and backed away. You cant. What about Deenie? Sh.e.l.l feel it. Asher, shes too young to feel that.

Instead of answering, he picked up her embroidery hoop and stared at her tapestry. A fishing boat on the ocean. Her own design; shed meant it as a surprise. Washed in sunshine he touched her tiny blue st.i.tches with the tip of one scarred finger. Almost, almost, his lips quirked in a smile.

She could have stamped her foot like a child in a tantrum. Asher! Are you listening? I wont let you do it. I wont let you hurt our daughter.

Dont be daft, Dathne, he said, and tossed the tapestry to the seat. I aint about to hurt Deenie.

How can you not hurt her? she retorted. You hurt her last night. I know you didnt mean to, but you did. And itll be a thousand times worse with full blown Weather Magic, you know it will.

He nodded. Aye. I do.

Well, then?

Well, then, Dath, he said, meeting her fury without flinching, reckon youll have to do somethin about that.

Me do something? What are you Choking, she stared at him. She knew him too well. I cant. Have you gone mad?

Maybe, he said, his eyebrows pulling low. But I cant see another way round it. Can you?

You want me to drug her? So you can do Weather Magic?

Still his steady gaze held hers. Time was you were willin to murder a man with drugs, for less.

He might as well have punched her. Winded, she dropped to the neatly clipped gra.s.s. Asher Then he was on his knees gripping her shoulders, holding her up. Think I want to, Dath? he demanded hoa.r.s.ely. You reckon this be easy for me to think on? I aint got no choiceand neither do you. Whatevers brewin with the weather, woman, either I nip it in the bud, tonight, or what weve built these last ten years comes tumblin down around our ears.

She could feel herself weeping, hot tears on her frozen face. You dont know that. You cant be sure.

Im sure! he said, shaking her. And so are you. He shook her again, his face twisted with anguish and anger. You started this, Dathne. You made me the Innocent Mage. Now I got to finish it. For Deenie and Rafel. For all of us.

She struck his broad chest with her fist over and over again. Nodding. Sobbing. I know. I know.

Oh, Dath, he groaned, and s.n.a.t.c.hed her to him. Buried his face against her neck. Well be all right. We will. I promise.

She wanted to believe him, so hard she hurt. But she knew, just as he did, that where Barl and the Weather Magic were concerned promises were no more to be trusted than glimfire in a rising wind.

So, Rafe, how was school today?

Shrugging, Rafel shoved his spinach round and round his dinner plate with his fork. Mama was trying to sound interested. She was trying to sound bright and happy, like there was nowt a thing wrong. It made him cross cause something was wrong all right. The tension in the solars air made him want to shout and stamp.

I aint a tiddy mouse like Deenie. I aint deaf or blind or addled like Jed. She shouldnt pretend. Thats wrong. Its like lying.

Rafel? said Mama. Did you hear me? How was It was fine. It was school, he said, almost a grunt. And that was all he wanted to say. He didnt want to tell anyone about what had happened. What hed done. The thing that made him feel small and dirty, worse even than when he was p.r.i.c.kled with guilt for his terrible secret.

Rafe, said Da sharply. Dont take that tone with your ma. And you look at her when she asks you a question. And mind you eat your b.l.o.o.d.y spinach. It be food, it aint for playin with.

Burning with resentment, he glared sideways at Da from beneath his lowered lashes then dropped his fork to the plate. I dont want my spinach. Im full.

You be full when the plates empty, said Da. Eat up, I said.

Mama sighed. Asher Eyes big and round, Deenie started to cry. Not a loud boo-hooing, just a few trickly tears, but still. Da threw down his napkin, shoved his chair back and stamped over to the solar window to glare down into the Tower gardens far below. He always stared out of a window when he was fratched, so all anyone could see of him was the back of his head. He didnt like it when people could read his thoughts in his face.

Asher, Mama said again, but it sounded almost like a question. Almost like she was frighted. But why would Mama be frighted?

At the window, Da nodded. Aye.

Rafel watched, his insides shivery, as Mama got up from the table leaving most of her roast duck and baked carrots and b.u.t.tery spinach behind. She went to Deenie, her face pinched up and not saying things, and pulled his sisters chair away from the table. Then she held out her arms and let Deenie clamber into them, the way she used to when his sister was a little sprat.

Hush, Deenie, dont cry, Mama said, as Deenie hiccupped into her sunshine yellow blouse. Bedtime, mouse. You didnt get much sleep last night.

Remembering last night, Rafel felt his insides shiver again. Last night was horrible. Today was horrible too. Everything was horrible. He wanted to cry.

Mama took Deenie over to Da, and Da turned away from the window and tickled the back of her neck in the way that made her giggle. But Deenie didnt giggle this time. Instead she reached for him and tried to climb into his arms.

No, no, mouse, said Mama, holding her back. Da cant cuddle you now. Hes got work to do. h.e.l.lh.e.l.l cuddle you in the morning. Asher Da slid a finger under Deenies chin and tipped her head up. Dont you be fratchin your ma, little sprat, he said, pretending he was all stern and scowly. Then he smiled, except not with his eyes. His eyes were awful, old and sad. Bending, he kissed the tip of Deenies nose. Off to bed, mouse. Sleep tight. Dont you let them bedbugs bite.

More fat wobbly tears were rolling down Deenies cheeks. I dont feel good, Da, she whimpered. I feel bad She banged her skinny chest. In here.

I know, said Da. It was nearly a whisper. But youll feel better soon, Deenie. I promise.

Mama took Deenie out of the solar, and Da turned his back on the room again. Looking at him, Rafel saw how his head drooped and his shoulders slumped like he was so sad he couldnt stand up straight. He felt his throat go tight. His nose tingled, and his eyes p.r.i.c.kled hard. Not knowing what else to do, he picked up his fork and poked it into the hated spinach.

Never mind that, Rafe, said Da. Truth be told, I dont much like spinach neither.

He let the fork drop again. Didnt meant to fratch you, Da, he said, having to choke the words out. Didnt mean to fratch Mama, either.

Da held out one arm, an invitation. Rafel went to him, flooded with relief. Before he could blink it away a fat tear of his own wobbled out of his eye.

What happened at school today, Rafe? Da asked, his voice quiet, his strong arm holding him close.

He shrugged. Nowt, Da. It was just school.

Rafe Squirming, he kicked at the wall under the window. Das arm tightened.

Dont do that. Just tell me what happened.

Nowt. Justpoxy Arlin Garrick, he muttered. Being poxy. Like he is. We had a brangle. I didnt touch him, Da! he added hastily. Promise!

To his surprise, Da laughed a bit. Like father, like son, eh? he said, almost to himself. Thatd be right. So what happened, Rafe? All of it, mind. No leavin bits out.

He heaved a deep sigh. Arlin was doing magic. At nuncheon. In the yard, under the big tree. Meister Vyne cant see that bit from the schoolhouse. Arlin was showing off, Da, just like he always does. Da, he was calling boggles.

Boggles? said Da.

You know, he said, impatient. Frighty things. He was making em up with magic. Like I said, showing off. As if hes the only one who can do it. I can do it. Ive done it lots and mine are a hundred times scarier than his. Da, he was going to skitter them over the hedge into the girls school next door.

Da stared down at him. Rafel what did you do?

He nearly kicked at the wall again. II popped em. Wasnt hard. Arlins magic aint that fancy. Feeling his fathers arm go rigid, like wood, he looked up. I had to, Da. Boggles are Rafe, said Da, his face and voice terrible. You tangled Doranen magic? Regular Olken cant do that! You know you ainthow many b.l.o.o.d.y times have I said Arlin never guessed it was me! he protested. Honest, Da. Promise. But He stopped, suddenly aware that hed said more than enough.

Too late. But what? said Da, and gave his shoulder a hard shake. Rafel, didnt I just tell you not to leave bits out?

He shoved his hands in his pockets. I laughed. When the boggles popped. I couldnt help it, Da, Arlin looked so fratched. And when he couldnt make em come back again hehe looked like to p.o.o.p his trousers, he was so cross. And doesnt it serve him right? He was going to set them boggles on the girls, he Aye, Rafe, I heard you the first time, said Da, his voice still growly. What happened after you laughed at Arlin?

He shrugged. Not much.

Rafe.

This was the bad bit. The bit he didnt want to say. He didnt care if he got a wallop for popping the boggles and he didnt care if Da fratched on at him about not doing magic. He didnt even care if he got stopped giving Stag his supper apple for a week. Two weeks. Jed would give it to him, so Stag wouldnt miss out.

But he did care about telling Da what Arlin Garrick had said.

Rafe, Da said again, in the voice that meant all his patience was used up. What did the pimply little s.h.i.t do?

He just said things, he whispered, squirming. Lies.

Da was silent for a long time. Then he sighed. About me?

He nodded. He couldnt trust himself to speak. His nose was running now, and the solar had gone blurry.

Rafe Da dropped to a crouch in front of him. We talked on this already, sprat, he said, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. Folk say things. You cant stop em. It aint b.l.o.o.d.y fair but theres nowt to be done about it.

Rafel folded his arms tight, shaking his head. How could Da say that? How could he not care?

If hed heard what Arlin said, that he was as good as a murderer, getting King Gar killed like that, and how he was only an Olken, and how could an Olken destroy a great Doranen mage like Morg? Some Doranen mustve helped him, and then he did something to make em forget, so he wasnt really a hero after all. If Da heard Arlin say all that Reckon I care what some Doranen spratlin witters? Da asked gent ly, and patted him on the cheek. Trust me, Rafel: I dont care a b.l.o.o.d.y bit.

He sniffed. Why not, Da? Why dont you care?

Da fell silent, his gaze shifting sideways, which always happened when he remembered bad things. Cause I dont. Cause some things aint worth botherin about, he said at last. One day, when you be older, Ill tell you the full story of what happened the day Morg died. Then youll know why I dont care about Arlin Garrick, or his da, or any other b.l.o.o.d.y Doranenor Olkenwhat snivels behind my back. And you wont neither.

You could tell me now, he said, hopeful. That ole Darran told me some of it, but I want to know the rest.

Das face went all stern. I know you do, Rafe. But you aint ready for it.

He was, he was. Da had no idea what he was ready for. What he could do. Yes, I am, he protested. Da Sprat, you got to learn to swallow no for an answer so it dont gripe your belly, Da snapped. Ive said you aint ready and thats the end of it. He sighed again. So, you popped Arlins boggles, and laughed when he were upset. That fratched him to say some things about me what riled you up. Then what?

And then Goose had leapt to Das defence, calling Arlin Garrick a poxy, cross-eyed, split-a.r.s.ed moo. So Arlin Garricks best friend Trentham Villot called Gooses da a hop-rotted beersot, which didnt sound awful bad unless you were Meister of the Brewers Guild.

So then Goose and Trentham started brangling, fists and boots, and Meister Vyne came running out, and in the end Goose got his backside caned and so did Trentham Villot, and that wasnt b.l.o.o.d.y fair at all.

Did you own up as how you started it? said Da. You and Arlin?

I tried to, Da, but Meister Vyne wouldnt listen. Arlin just laughed. He didnt care Trentham got walloped for him.

What about Goose? said Da. Spose he aint talkin to you now, is that it?

That was the thing, almost as bad as the lies Arlin told about Da. No. He said not to fratch on it. He saidhe said And then, just like Deenie would, he broke into sobs. Dont matter, Goose had said, his voice scratchy after yellin from the cane, and his watery eyes red. One day youll stand up for me, I know you will. Cause were friends, you and me, Rafe, and thats what friends do.

So you learned a hard lesson today, said Da, holding him close again. You got a friend in strife cause you let your temper ride you. Best you not let that happen again, eh?

m.u.f.fled against Das weskit, he nodded. I wont, Da. Promise. Then he wriggled a bit, till he could see his fathers face. But I wish What? said Da. There was the tiniest glint in his eye. That you could smash that Arlin Garrick flat with your magic?

It was shameful, but he nodded. Aye, he whispered. Aye, I surely do.

Da pinched the end of his nose. Reckon I dont know that, sprat? Reckon I aint had that feelin mself, once or twice?

Because Da didnt sound cross, he risked a big question. When you killed Morg, Da. Did you want to? Did itdid it feel good?

Sink me b.l.o.o.d.y sideways, Rafe Da let go of him and stood, turning to the window. The things you ask. Aye, he said, after a long time. I wanted to kill him. He were evil through and through. But it didnt feel good, Rafel, cause I werent just killin him. Two other men died with him and neither deserved it. You want to think on that, sprat, when you find yself wishin you could pop poxy Arlin Garrick with your magic. Think on that, and think on poor ole Goose with his caned backside. Aint nowt in the world as magicll make simpler. All magic does is tangle things up.

Aye, Da, he said, because he knew it was expected. But he didnt really believe it. Everywhere in the City, throughout Lur, magic made their lives simpler. If it was so terrible no-one would use it, would they?

So heres what I reckon, said Da, looking over his shoulder. I reckon it werent just fratchin with Arlin thats got you riled, Rafe. Them boggles he called they made you think of last night, eh?

Last night. He didnt want to talk on that. Didnt want to remember Deenie screaming. Running into his bedchamber and screaming about monsters and the twisting earth and a man with green-gold eyes and red hair, crying tears of blood in a river.

You aint to fret on that, said Da. Theres nowt will hurt you in this Tower, Rafe. Nowt to hurt you anywhere in Lur. You or Deenie. I wont let it. You hear me?