Juliet McKenna: The Gambler's Fortune

“I’d have every justification in searching your mind for the answers I seek,” he said silkily.

I gritted my teeth, trying to summon up whatever bloody-mindedness it was ’Gren had so unexpectedly turned to his advantage in defying Artifice.

“But that would be to forswear my calling and make me no better than the Alyatimm,” he continued. “It was to save our people from their abuses that they were driven into the Ice in the first place!”

This meant nothing to me, but I nodded willingly. As long as he was talking, he couldn’t be messing around inside my head. Time to try to win some goodwill. “I came here to warn the people of the mountains about these Elietimm,” I said hopefully. “We have seen their evil enchantments and—”

“You came here for your own purposes.” The Sheltya cut me off disdainfully. “That much I can read without effort. Do not pretend to nobility of purpose.”

I felt insulted; turning a profitable rune for myself doesn’t preclude doing someone else a good turn. “We came here to warn you,” I repeated stubbornly, “and to look for guidance as to how we might recover true magic in the lowlands,” I added, sudden inspiration suggesting a way to change the subject. “We were looking to cooperate, to learn from you, to join forces against a common enemy.”

“But you brought a mage to do it,” the old man Cullam said regretfully. “There can be no meeting between those who govern the four realms of the mind and those who twist the four realms of substance to their command.”

I filed that obscure pronouncement away for later examination and decided Sorgrad and ’Gren would have to look after themselves. All I wanted to do now was leave, so I curtsied to Black Eyes with all the grace I could muster in the tattered remnants of my skirts. “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to get away from the battle.”

“You will depart when I give you leave,” the Sheltya stated calmly.

The one called Bryn smirked and I made the mistake of glancing at him. “What did you do to Eresken?” he demanded. “You were outside the room where he lay dead; don’t think I don’t remember you. Is that how your wizardry is used to murder?”

“The Elietimm enchanter? The one who’d got into your mountains and your counsels and roused half an army to attack the lowlands? He was called Eresken?” I kept my eyes on Black Eyes. “No wizardry was used to kill him, you have my word on it.”

“Where is Aritane?” Bryn’s voice was thick with a turmoil of anger and fear.

“Don’t you know?” Surprise faked for the squirrel game had never been so sincere. “Weren’t you one of those helping, what was his name, Eresken?”

Black Eyes pinned me with his stare once more. “Who has done what among Anyatimm is no concern of yours. It is no concern of the charlatan Planir and his covey of greedy conjurors. We will determine the truth and punish the guilty. None have authority over Anyatimm but Sheltya.”

“No one seeks to challenge your authority. It’s the menace of the Elietimm that we are concerned with. Look at the trouble just one of them has caused.” I spared a desperate prayer to Saedrin that there had only been one of the bastards. “The Elietimm are a threat to everyone, Hadrumal, Tormalin and the lands to Solura and beyond. We should all be working together to defeat them. Since you alone seem to have retained true magic, you could do so much to help.” And if I could deliver that help, I could name my own price, an optimistic voice commented in some hidden corner of my mind.

Black Eyes looked at me with a contempt that sparked a rebellious flame of defiance to scorch my paper-thin pretense of humility. This enchanter had scant right to sneer at me when he couldn’t even keep his own people in check, arrogant as any wizard.

Cullam muttered something under his breath and frowned for a moment. “The lowlanders have reached the walls of the fess,” he said sadly.

Serves the Teyvakin right, I thought uncharitably.

Black Eyes folded his arms, eyes hard in the starlight. “We will remove the lowlanders from our lands. We will find those who conspired with Alyatimm and punish them as we see fit. Should Alyatimm attempt to suborn our people again, they will find us ready and waiting to defend ourselves.”

From the certainty in his voice, I wouldn’t be taking any bets against him.

“Tell Planir that we do not want his magic in the uplands, we do not need it nor will we tolerate it. We do not want Tormalin weapons or troops or any other lowland incursion under the pretense of sending us aid. We look to our own as we have always done.”

I dropped another quick curtsey. “Very good. I’ll take your message at once. The sooner Planir knows, the better after all.” As I spoke, I glanced around to see if I could spot any hint of the ford. Looking to the front again, I jumped like a startled rabbit. The Sheltya had vanished, all three of them, gone like smoke as gray as their robes.

“Drianon save me from magic in all its forms,” I muttered crossly. Since no one from the bridge was showing any interest in this direction, I climbed up to the mine entrance. The opening was indeed choked with stones and rubble, so either the roof had come in on them or Usara had managed some cleverness. I prodded at a rock with a dubious finger but it was solid, cold and very real beneath my touch. No illusion this. I raised my pry-bar but lowered it again. There was no way I was going to clear this on my own, not without getting a double handful of curious soldiery coming to see what was going on. I couldn’t see them offering to help, even if I did tell them there was an unconscious maiden wearing nothing but her shift on the far side.

Heaving a sigh, I laid the jemmy across my shoulder and turned for the river. All I could do was trust Usara was getting Sorgrad and ’Gren out of their predicament. If he wasn’t, I’d use the pry-bar to persuade him. I knelt to cup a mouthful of water from the river. Now I wasn’t so worried about being killed, crushed or captured by the Sheltya; other cares were asserting themselves. I was cold, tired, hungry and had enough scrapes and bruises to keep an apothecary amused for days. I scratched my head again; with my current run of luck, I’d picked up lice.

I finally found the nubby remnants of a post marking the ford. With the river so low, it was an easy enough crossing, but water still left my skirts clinging wetly around my legs and seeped into my boots. I was breaking my nails on my sodden laces when the world whirled madly around me in a flurry of azure and diamond sparks.

“It’s all right, it’s all right.” Sorgrad’s voice saying that was probably the only one I’d have believed. Screwing my eyes tight shut against the dizzying sensations and praying I wouldn’t be sick, I gritted my teeth until the sensations of being caught in a whirlwind subsided.

“Here you are, all safe with the rest of us,” said Usara cheerfully.

I wrapped my arms around myself and counted to five before opening mistrustful eyes. What I saw was the gloomy hollow where we’d left the wizard and Bera’s men. As far as I was concerned, we were still a long way from safe, but Sorgrad and ’Gren were there. “So you got them out first.”

“As you see,” smiled Usara with relief.

I tugged at the wet cloth hampering my legs. “You couldn’t have picked me up before I went wading through the river? Where’s my bag? I want some dry breeches!”

“We wanted to be sure the Sheltya had left you,” said Usara. “I was scrying the whole time. I’d have risked it if anyone had come near you,” he assured me, and now that his smile was gone I could see the lines of effort carved deep on either side of his mouth.