The danger cracks the curtain in this installment of my first novel, Weave a Wizardry Web.
Herewith, chapters 14 and 15.
XIV
She heard him grumbling about the colonel he had
to send to Chanerro Pass. Once he was ensconced in his study, she pounced on
the servant taking the creamy soup and pasty to Letheina.
The servant refused to cede the tray to her. “More
than my job is worth, my lady,” but she allowed Alstera to follow her.
“Good morning, Grandmère.”
“It’s past the nooning, child. Have you slept so
late?”
“I’ve been up since Daggry. At the Archives.”
“Ah. Rombrey said you’ve been scouring the old
records. He did not say for what purpose. I am pleased that you enjoy delving
into our earliest records.”
Her grandmother motioned for the tray to be placed
before her then dismissed the servant. She broke bread and dabbed butter on it.
She sipped her soup. Then she broke the crust off the pasty and tasted it.
Alstera remained quiet. She’d had too many
lectures about not interrupting her grandmother’s meal. When had Rombrey talked
with his sister? The old man had left his tower, for Letheina wouldn’t climb
all those steps to visit her brother. When had they talked? Or had they scryed?
Would Raigeis would call that a profligate waste of power?
Letheina slowly consumed the soup, then the pasty,
then the buttered bread. She finished with a strong cup of tea before pushing
the tray away. Alstera moved to the desk and lifted the tray, carrying it to
the table beside the door. Then she returned and perched on an upholstered
chair. Time to tackle her grandmother.
“Do you know the reason I am spending hours upon
hours in the Archives? I am looking for information about the Dragon Dark. I
want to find something we can use to stop the next Dragon Rising.” That wasn’t
a lie. That had been her original purpose.
Letheina’s “hmph” scoffed at the idea. “Will you
never learn to think? You’ll not find the Dragon Dark in the archives. The
Enclave rose after that devastation.”
“As did Mont Nouris and all the other countries. The
archives are not completely useless, for I have found a few mentions of the
Dragon Dark in the earliest scrolls. Are there earlier records? In Faeron?”
“You’re not to go to Faeron. The Maorketh holds
two of mine captive. That damned Fae queen will not have an opportunity to
control a third.”
“Grandmère, we have to prepare. Frost Clime is
gaining influence in the lowlands. Iscleft barely holds its borders.”
“We have great strides at Chanerro Pass. We are
defeating Frost Clime there.”
“True, but Iscleft loses more than we gain. And
the rumors out of the Wastes, beyond the Wilding—.”
“Rumors, bah!”
“The rumors out of the Wastes,” she continued
patiently, “talk of dragons flying. We cannot ignore these signs. Dragon Rising
is coming.”
“I know no such thing. Who tells you to argue
these things with me?”
“No one tells me. I pay attention. I understand
the reports. You know I excelled in my studies. I can comprehend what is
happening, and what is happening is that Frost Clime is gaining ground against
us. When the dragons rise, Mont Nouris and the whole Wizard Enclave will be
destroyed. Again.” Is Grandmère blinding
herself? Or is she blind to the reports that come in? Is Raigeis even telling
her what is happening?
“You spend too much time in the Archives. You must
interact more. You do not go to parties with your cousins. You once did. You
should. Why has that changed? Where is that young man you introduced me to at
Yule?”
“Gage?”
“No, not Gage. Leigeist, I think his name was.”
“He was Yule. He only wanted a relationship
because he thought the ArchClan’s granddaughter would help him advance. I am
with Gage now. Sauveurs’ son.”
“Sauveur’s son? I remember. His mother is Clan
Rochein. Where is Leigeist now that you’ve dropped him?”
“I didn’t drop him. Uncle Raigeis posted him to
Iscleft. An indefinite posting, like Tante Camisse’s.”
“Who is this Gage? I do not remember that name in
a binding ceremony.”
“He’s not a wizard. He’s not even an adept. He’s
an Enclave guard, a captain. He’s on duty.”
“A Naught then. You are coupling with a Naught
now.”
“He has power,” she defended him, even as the
slight to her choice stung.
“Bah! If he is not even an adept, he is as useless
as a Naught. Leigeist, at least, is a wizard.” Her fingers tapped the wooden
front of her chair arm. “Posted to Iscleft by Raigeis? Your uncle keeps good
watch over you. You had no deep feelings for the Leigeist, I am glad to know. I
would not have wanted you to hare off after him to Iscleft.”
“That relationship is over.” She didn’t speak of
her nights of weeping, her threats to leave. Her great-uncle Rombrey had
reasoned with her, reminding her of Leitgeist’s many requests for meetings with
the upper ranks in Clan Letheina and his disappointment when she refused. Nor
did she mention her anger that Uncle Raigeis felt he must keep a good watch
over her. “I am with Gage now. He admires me.”
“Admiration can be an awkward bed-fellow. Better
to remain at lust or even obsession. And admiration can be difficult. It can
lead to reverence, and reverence is a short step to awe. Even shorter is the
step from awe to jealousy and thence hatred. I know, granddaughter. I know this
lesson very well.”
Alstera barely heard that old pain. She promised
herself to turn over those words later, matching them to events in her
grandmother’s long life. For now, she needed to focus on her reason for this
meeting without her uncle’s officious interference. “Grandmère, I did not come
to talk about Gage. Or Leigeist. Or the Archives. I came—I saw Crispin at the
reception.”
“Crispin?”
“Gerrault’s brother.”
“Ah, he’s Charanaise now, isn’t he? What did he
want?”
Surely her grandmother knew. “He wants to see his
son Nevil, who is being detained by the Council for questioning.”
Letheina snorted, proving that she did, indeed,
know. “Arrested and interrogated is more accurate. How does his arrest matter
to you?”
“Nevil is a friend. One of those friends that you
suggest I go to parties with.”
“You have wasted several days then. He was
arrested last week.”
“I did not learn of it until last night.” A lie,
but she kept her gaze steady. Her grandmother was ArchClan. For all she had
entered her declining years, she controlled vast amounts of power, both the
energy of magic and the politics of the Enclave. Experience gave her wisdom to
see far beyond simple words. Skepticism kept her looking for motives and
intentions, cleaving the words of factions from the words of the heart with a
sharp blade.
Thus far, Letheina listened with half an ear. Some
distraction prevented her full attention. The distraction served Alstera, for
then Letheina’s full attention wouldn’t see the lies hiding behind Alstera’s
mask of indignation.
Letheina pushed aside the sheaf of papers before
her. “Why do you come to me with this? I had nothing to do with his arrest. The
Council of Five arrested this Nevil. Perrault’s comeis carried out the order. Nevil attacked the comeis with spells. That increases his
guilt.”
“I understand Uncle Raigeis was there.”
“Raigeis had to be. Nevil belongs to Charanaise. She
never should have received the vote for clan mater. She is too young. She is
too inexperienced. A foolish attempt to bring new blood to Enclave leadership.
Charanaise kept no watch on the wizards and adepts sworn to her. And he began
dabbling in dark spells.”
“His family is not allowed to see him, Grandmére. Nevil
was awakened in the middle of the night and bound with spell-binding cords.
They hauled him through the streets like a criminal. And now that he is in the
cells beneath Moot Hall, no one can visit him. No one has received any message
about him. He could be badly injured. Or dead.”
“The magisters followed all rules required to
arrest a wizard using forbidden spells.”
“Was that the only reason my uncle Raigeis felt
that he must be there?”
Her grandmother’s mouth twisted. “Don’t be so
suspicious, girl. Raigeis was present for form’s sake. And he reported to me
all events that occurred, including Nevil’s accusations. I am ArchClan. I
should know what happens in the Enclave. The Council does not inform me of
their deliberations, only of their actions. We often do not receive notice of
that until the actions have occurred. For once, though, but they informed Raigeis
of their plan to arrest Nevil before the event. He watched Nevil’s removal to
Moot Hall. He attended the interrogations.”
“No one else was informed of his arrest. Not even
his family. He just disappeared. Only his family know he’s imprisoned in Moot
Hall. They didn’t know that a handful of days ago. Nor do they know any reasons
for his arrest. They should, shouldn’t they? If they are to help him mount a
defense.”
“The gemot
court is not a law court, granddaughter. The Council will hear no defense, no
mitigation. They hear the facts, the proof of those facts, and witness
testimony. The Five will hear nothing else.”
Alstera could barely keep her seat. “No defense? Not
at all? That’s unfair. He should be allowed to give his reasons.”
“Reasons? Are there any acceptable reasons for
breaking all five tenets of the Wizard Enclave? The tenets are our laws, child,
and he flouted every one?”
“Is that what he did?”
“He was reviving the Nexus. We cannot allow that. The
Nexus breaks all five tenets that guide our actions and interactions demand
that we avoid that trap. We maintain balance between our will and the needs of
others. We serve others before ourselves, even to the risk of our own lives.
Our power does not enslave others; it frees them from any shackles. These
tenets prevent that downward spiral to sorcery. We swear an oath to uphold
these: the balance of energies, service and sacrifice, and freedom from
thralldom.”
“I remember,” she murmured. “I have not
forgotten.”
“Nevil broke these tenets. He used the forbidden
Nexus, forbidden because it enslaves others. Nevil drove his power into
another’s mind in order to control them, in order to force his will upon them.
He commanded them to obey and cared nothing that his order forced them into a
deed that would never personally follow.”
Alstera winced, remembering her command to Gage.
“These alone are errors enough. Comeis
Sullin Bourne found writings that Nevil planned to work spells with the ancient
blood magic. We do not yet know if he is guilty of that. Breaking the ban on
the Nexus is foul deed enough.
“But, Grandmére, the Nexus was only banned because
of Saldoran. For one hundred years and longer, from before the founding of the
Enclave, our wizards used the linking spell to increase their power. Without
the Nexus, would our wizards have defeated the dragons during the Dark? Yes,
the spell seems contrary to our five tenets, but surely our wizards who wielded
the Nexus confirmed that those whose power they took did so willingly? That
they had consented. Their powers were not just ripped away. And once the spell
ended, their powers were returned.”
“Too many wizards in the early days of the Enclave
did not restore power back to those who agreed to the spell. We wizards did not
ban the Nexus lightly, child. The debate lasted for weeks. But too many knew
personally the foul evil that Saldoran had committed. And since then, we have
survived without the Nexus for another hundred years. Alstera, child, you will
not win an argument using past behavior. We have advanced since then. We now understand
the dangers of the Nexus as we did not understand it until Saldoran’s rebellion.
Why do you defend Nevil’s use of it? Have you tampered with the Nexus?”
“I have
not,” she said clearly and truthfully. She hadn’t, not yet. Not the Nexus, just
a command spell. Gage had had no power for her to take. “I wish to speak with
Nevil. I need to do so. I need to know where he searched in the archives. I
need to know the reason he broke the ban on the Nexus. I know Nevil, Grandmére.
He had no grand plans of ruling over others. He would not have broken the ban
without good reasons. Please let me speak with Nevil.”
“And applaud his breaking of the tenets? No. We
are not arrogant sorcerers who think no law binds them. We hold life sacred.
The five tenets guide us.”
“The five tenets guide us, but they limit us.”
“Careful. You are my granddaughter. You are five
and twenty, long past folly and rash judgments. This argument, however, makes
me doubt your obedience to the Enclave and our tenets. This challenge can be
construed as sedition.”
“Questioning the tenets is not sedition,
Grandmére. Are we not taught to ask questions throughout the whole of our
training?”
“Questioning the tenets in order to overthrow them
is sedition, granddaughter. Beware. If you break the tenets, I will turn you
over to the Aged Sages myself.”
“I do not intend to break the tenets. I do not
intend to practice the Nexus. Be easy on that matter. But Dragon Rising—.”
“Dragon Rising is a myth, used the Fae alliance to
frighten us into increasing their presence and accepting their influence.”
That sounded like her uncle Raigeis. Alstera
wanted to argue, but on this point she knew her grandmother would stop
listening entirely. She suspected that she had already pushed too hard.
Letheina always put her position as ArchClan far before family.
She resumed her request cautiously. “I understand
from the archives that those in the Moot Hall cells are kept in close
confinement. I would not be able to enter his cell.”
Letheina snorted. “You would not be able to touch
the bars. The iron is spell-bane.”
She nodded. “I could take him food. Papers and ink
and quills to write upon in case he wanted to send a message to his family.”
“Any messages must be read by a Council member. He
cannot send an encrypted message to those who convinced him to work this
spell.”
“If I spoke with him—. The guards would hear our
every word, I know this. But I would then be able to take a message to his
family and his clan. I could reassure them that he is well treated and not
injured.”
“You would not be admitted, child. Only Enclave
guards and Council magisters may see him.”
Alstera stood and paced away. When she paced back,
she saw Letheina’s narrowed eyes. Is she
questioning my loyalty? Does she think I want the Enclave to fall? “Everything
I do is to protect the Enclave. For the Enclave to endure, we must defeat Frost
Clime. The sorcerers know we must abide by the tenets. When the dragons rise,
they will use our adherence to the tenets to defeat us. Can you not see that?”
“I see that abandoning the tenets to defeat the
enemy is turning ourselves into the enemy. Child, that talk led the investigators
to Nevil. Be careful to whom you say such things. You must believe that the
tenets limit us, but they actually increase our power. Has Rombrey not taught
you this?”
“He has. He repeats it daily.”
“But you have yet to divine what it means.”
“I know what—.”
“No. Heed me, granddaughter. The sorcerers seem to
have great liberality of power and thus the advantage over us. Yet look at any
spell. It has limits and boundaries. Without those limits, much of the power
poured into a spell dissipates. Energy slips into Chaos. All wizards and
sorcerers know this. You will find little difference between the spells of
wizardry and sorcery. The procedure of the spell, the weaving of power through
it: those are not the difference. Only in the direction of the spell and the
boundaries that define its actions do we see the difference. Talk to a Fae. Talk
to your beloved aunt Camisse. They will all tell you much the same.” She
crossed her hands and grumbled, “I have not had to teach rudiments of
spell-craft for decades. You should know this. I should not have to re-teach it.
Your friend forgot, and he willfully and deliberately broke the tenets. Do you
applaud his actions?”
She knew everything her grandmother said. She had
worked spells for two decades. She remained the youngest Enclave member to have
achieved wizard status. Am I missing
something? The boundaries of the spell and the tenets increase the might of the
spell? “What will happen to Nevil?”
“That is up to the Aged Sages.”
She bit her lip. After a moment, she ventured, “He
must feel very alone. When will the trial be?”
“It is not a trial. It is an exhibit of facts and
proof.”
“Nevil won’t be allowed to speak at all?”
Letheina compressed her lips. “I do not know. Such
a serious crime has never happened in my tenure. As ArchClan, I may attend the
exhibit. I am not permitted to speak. Raigeis is required to attend. He presents
facts and proof.”
“Will Nevil’s family be allowed to attend? Or his
mater Charanaise? No? May I speak with him? I can take word to Crispin of how
Nevil is faring. Nevil is his only child. Last night, Crispin looked at his
wit’s end.”
“I have no authority at Moot Hall.”
“Not even with the Enclave guards?”
Letheina’s mouth twisted. “None with the Council
magisters, but a guard might accept my written word and a pass.”
“Please, Grandmère. If I can give him any
encouragement—.”
“He has been apprised of the procedures of the
Moot Court. He is currently being apprised of the exhibits for the Moot Court. He
may also produce his own facts and proofs, and one of the Council magisters
will present his exhibits. This is allowed. He does not need encouragement.”
“And if they find against him? What will happen?”
“It is not finding against him. It is a
determination of his actions against the tenets. Foolish child, what do you
think will happen to a wizard who breaks the tenets of the Enclave? His powers
will be bound. At the least, he will be banished. At the most, execution. Do
not give him false hopes. You may not speak to him on the exhibits brought
against him. I ask that you only speak of the commonplace. I will not have the
five sages claim that I meddled in Council business.”
With that, she levered up from her chair. She
stood a moment, her fingertips touching the chair arm, then she walked slowly
to her desk. Once lowered into the chair there, she drew a parchment to her,
dipped a pen in the inkwell, and began scratching out a pass.
Alstera watched and considered Nevil’s situation.
He was in direr trouble than she had realized. No wonder Crispin was frantic.
Exile or execution. If the exhibits against him
proved that Nevil had broken the tenets, then the binding of his powers would
be a blessing.
Nevil would not be judged innocent. He had broken the tenets. She could hear
the echo of his vehement claim that breaking the tenets would be necessary to
defeat Frost Clime. And his first step would be to try the Nexus.
He had tried it. As she intended to. The Nexus was
a key to defeating the sorcerers who had no tenets that limited their spells. And
the sorcerers had to be defeated before Dragon Rising.
For the dragons would rise. If they allied with
the sorcerers, every land and every person was doomed.
XV
Faone kicked her heels for several hours while
waiting to see Sanglier. Pannoth had tried to flirt, but she’d ignored him. Martel,
when he deigned to acknowledge her, had once excited her, but she had tired of
his occasional attention and his selfish coupling. More often than not, Martel
drew Runniger into the coupling, and Runniger had a cruel streak.
The women who came and went in the house ignored
her. Faone didn’t care. She didn’t like the women. Uppity servants, always
looking down on her. She could not see how simple servants had any power that
placed them above Faone.
The haughtiest were Clemayya and Jhenanni, but
Faone hadn’t seen them for the past couple of days. She didn’t want to see them.
Clemayya had Martel’s arrogance. Jhenn was always aloof. Hibbissi always looked
cowed. Volnikke and Gerrinna followed Clemayya and Jhenn.
She was standing to leave when Arctos arrived. At Pannoth’s
mute look, Arctos gave the slightest scrunch of his nose. Faone wouldn’t have
seen it if she hadn’t watched the big guard so closely. Pannoth seemed to
deflate, and Faone wished yet again that she could fathom the whole range of
messages that these men conveyed with only looks. The tightening of the skin
around their eyes, the tilt of their head, the twitch of an eyebrow, that
scrunch of the nose—she had caught some of the expressions. The others happened
too fast for her to see.
Arctos’ lack of expression gave more evidence that
his errand hadn’t gone well. His face lifted with a smile when he saw Faone. He
veered from his path to the stairs and came to her. And the nerves that had
driven her from home began to calm.
“What brings you here before Middag?”
“Been here long time,” Pannoth put in. “Since 8th
Bell.”
“That long? Faone, who are you waiting for?”
“Sanglier. Master not see her.”
Arctos flicked a look. Pannoth slunk back to the
door, a dog with his tail between his legs.
He took her arm and drew her to the alcove under
the stairs. “Why do you need to speak with Sanglier? You should be going about
with your friends.”
Faone shrugged, unwilling to admit to any anxiety.
She stared into his scarred face. Inside her, something stretched its back then
curled up. When she’d first met Arctos, his growling ways had scared her. But
he made love with a tenderness that the others in this house lacked.
The youths her age fumbled their way to completion
or tried every position they’d heard of. She bounced away from them when she
met Sanglier. The others in this house, with their roughness and experience,
had excited her at first. Yet they were as selfish as the youths.
She thought of her last time with Sanglier, after
the circle on Knave’s Night. He had linked with her to teach her a spell, much
as he’d linked with Camisse last evening. He had unlocked her power—as he
hadn’t been able to with her cousin. With his help she had opened a lock then
closed it. The spell had hurt, but he’d explained his mind’s penetration of
hers was the quickest way to learn a spell.
“We do not often teach this way,” he had explained.
“You don’t want the slave to learn how he’s controlled. This is merely the
quickest way to teach you the spell. Not the best way. A twisted way.”
Her excitement at working the spell had cast those
words in a shadowy background, but the morning light shined on them and woke
her worries. Does Sanglier think me no
better than a slave? I am not a slave. No Naught is a slave, not in the
Enclave. She had marched across the city to confront him. Prepared to wait,
she perched on a chair beside the stair. The seat was so high that her feet
barely touched the floor. Yet as the hours passed, wiith nothing to do but
swing her heels, she began to doubt her working of the spell. He hadn’t taught
her the way that slaves learned. He had used a linkage very similar to the one
in the circle.
A quick linkage. A twisted one. An invasion that
hurt but planted the seed of the spell. Like rape. Like sex with Sanglier,
penetration with few preliminaries. If he had not seemed dangerous, if she had
not reveled in the forbidden, she would have bounced away, as she had with so
many others.
“Hello?” Arctos knocked on her head. “Are you lost
in there?”
“Thinking. I seem to do much of that these days.”
“Thinking is good. Otherwise, you are just
following and reacting, not choosing your way.” Then he frowned, as if the
words triggered his own thoughts.
She touched his arm. “We both should think more, I
think.” She smiled widely so he would recognize her joke.
His frown lightened, but he didn’t laugh. “Do you
need to see Sanglier? Or Martel?”
“Why would I want to see Martel?”
Her retort pleased him, revealed by his smile. “I
can get you a few minutes with Sanglier. Perhaps. When I left, he was
complaining of the shortness of time.”
“That does not bode well for my few minutes. I do
not have to see him, Arctos.” She rubbed her hand up his arm, enjoying the
muscles beneath the linen. “I would not mind seeing you.”
Arctos groaned. “Faone, I have even less time.”
“It need not take long.”
He dragged her several feet before he stopped. “No.
I cannot.” Regret darkened his words. He glanced at Pannoth then gave her his
full attention. She liked how he did that. His focus made her giddy. He cupped
her cheek. “Can you come tonight?”
She kept a disappointed scowl from her face and
gave him a half-smile. “I am bidden to my maman’s with my twin Fleur.”
“There are two of you?”
“Do not worry. You can tell us apart. She has all
the power.”
“You have power now, too.” He paused then added, “Sanglier
and Runniger unlocked it.”
“It is paltry. Sanglier would relish having Fleur
in his circle. She has her Trials still before her, but I know she will be a
great wizard. Not as great as Alstera.”
His other hand also cupped her cheek and tilted
her face to his. “Her power does not diminish you, Faone.”
“Power—puissance, they are all that matter in the
Enclave.”
“Then I am glad you came to Sanglier’s circle, so
that I could meet you and teach you that wizardry is not everything in the
world.” He kissed her, a quick touch to her lips then a second one, before he
stepped back. “I regret that I cannot linger with you. Sanglier and Martel
expect me. Do you still wish to see the master?”
She shook her head. “Go on. Perhaps we can linger
tomorrow.”
He ran lightly upstairs while she gathered up her
light tippet and embroidered reticule.
Rather than take a sedan chair, she joined the
people on the streets. Arctos’ words about thinking swirled around.
Why did I
want to see Sanglier? He had teased her with the unlocking of her power—but
she could not work that spell outside of his or Runniger’s presence. Instead of
dashing around busily, her habitual state, her long wait in the straight-backed
chair at given her time to think, to mull over.
She had tried the spell this morning with no
result. His words increased her anxiety.
Her cousin had claimed that the linkage was merely
another form of the forbidden Nexus. After long hours on a hard seat, that
accusation did not sound so adamantly wrong.
Camisse the commander would not return to the
Circle. She saw no use in it. She might encounter Sanglier, but she had slipped
away and would not return.
Faone would return. The spell she could no longer
work meant less to her than Arctos’s heated touch. His few words had driven
away all her desire to see Sanglier.
Maybe she was thinking too much.
She stepped around an apple-seller. The sweet
scent drew her back. She bought a shiny red apple with the only coin in her
reticule and continued on, eating the crisp fruit as she bypassed other sellers.
The guards at the Enclave gate called out to her. She waved but didn’t stop. She
tossed the apple core into the pig-seller’s plat. A fat sow snorted and ambled
over to investigate.
Then she stopped, so quickly that she nearly
tripped.
Sanglier’s penetration of her mind—she had likened
it to sex. She had never liked her times with him. Runniger was worse, with his
painful little games. Sanglier’s eyes had a greeny gleam that worried her. She
hadn’t protested when he passed her on to Martel while he pursued a deeper
acquaintance with Briella. The first time she left Briella alone with the outland
wizard, Faone had giggled with Martel over that shocked look.
Briella had kept coming back, though.
Sanglier was always courteous and gentle with the
newcomers. He didn’t become cruel until later.
Or was that only because she was a Naught? Briella
had power. Not a lot, not like her brothers, but enough to keep Sanglier
intrigued with his linkages.
The outlander and Martel were different from the
youths she played with and the guards who were careful not to muss up a
relative of the ArchClan. In Sanglier’s command of her, she had imagined his
command of Letheina and her parents and everyone who said she was only a Naught.
His strength had hurt, but afterwards she imagined him shoving them aside,
making them hurt, and she curled against him.
In three short weeks, she had learned him well. She
might not know his thoughts and his plans, but she understood his behaviors and
his reactions. He never inflicted physical pain, but he had a twisted bent of
mind that brought words intended to hurt. He watched with a glint in his eyes
to see who would cringe, who would retreat, and who would fawn upon him.
She hadn’t retreated. Did that make her a fawner
or a cringer? She didn’t like herself in either role.
And what am I with Arctos?
Camisse waited outside Faone’s room.
“Cousin! I didn’t expect to see you today.”
The older woman inspected Faone’s walking dress. “I
like that. Who is your seamstress?”
She laughed. “Is the commander of Chanerro Pass
taking an interest in gowns? Shall we go shopping together?”
“I think—yes, I think we should. I have someone
that I want to impress. Not as a commander.”
Another
person who is re-thinking. Faone smiled. “I am honored that you sought me
out. I guess you want to continue the impression you made with the crimson
dress?”
“I—yes.” Camisse bit her lip, like an uncertain
girl rather than a woman of three decades. “If we could keep this quiet, Faone,
just between us. My—well, some people would not approve of my seeing this man.”
Reteif,
Faone thought. Married and with a heavily pregnant wife, but still enamored of
the woman he had to give up fifteen years before.
“He has invited me to Verron’s Maison,” her cousin
continued. She took the little chair by the table at the lancet window. “Do you
know of it?”
“Very exclusive. Very private. It’s said the king
meets his current paramour there, and she meets hers. You will need something
exceptional.” Faone flung open her armoire. “A seamstress will never complete
such a gown in time.”
“I thought—I hoped—would the cherry pink be
suitable? Or that leafy green?”
“The one we tried on last?” She considered the
lines of the dress and her aunt’s figure. “I have a different choice for you,
also cherry pink. It will suit you better. It’s not as short as the leafy green.
The length will be no problem if you wear slippers and a ruffled petticoat made
to be shown. The bodice—.” If she waited to the last minute to lace Camisse
tightly into the gown, her cousin would not be able to back out of wearing it. “Shall
I bring it to your room? When do you need it?”
“Tomorrow evening. Can I—May I dress here? I would
rather my maid not report anything about my plans. If I avoid my rooms, she
will think I plan to stay home for the evening.”
“Of course you may dress here. I will do anything
to help two lovers to a tryst.”
“It’s not—we’re not—I just met him.”
Not Reteif,
but certainly someone who had impressed Camisse. “Is he worthy of this attempt
at secrecy?”
“He sent me flowers.”
She said it with hushed awe, and Faone suddenly
realized that Camisse had never been courted. With a clan mater as mother, and
soon to be the ArchClan, and dour Raigeis blocking all interest and finally all
her responsibilities to her orphaned niece and nephew, Camisse had been caged.
Her bars seemed even thicker than the ones surrounding Faone. And Camisse, too,
was treated like a Naught.
One man now braved the continued obstacles of the ArchClan
and Raigeis. “Did Reteif ever send flowers?”
“He thought they were a waste since they would die
in days.”
“He has no romantic soul. I pity his wife. Except—.”
She caught her tongue in time.
Her cousin was quick. “Except that he sends her
flowers. How lowering. So,” she stood, “we are to shop tomorrow morning and you
will help me dress for the evening?”
“Will he send a carriage?”
“He didn’t mention it, and I am not alerting
anyone by ordering a carriage. I will hire a chair.”
“That’s acceptable. A half-hour for the chairmen
and an hour to dress—.”
“An hour!”
“Your bath, your hair, your maquillage.”
“I am not the court paramour. The dress is
enough.”
Faone put her hands on her hips and stamped her
foot. “The dress is not enough. You want to impress him, don’t you?”
“A little magic—.”
“If he is a wizard, he will see past any magic. Is
he a wizard?”
Camisse’s mouth turned downward.
“So, the dress is not enough. We can do a simple
maquillage.” She tilted her head as she considered Camisse’s short braid. “We’ll
say a half-hour then, and be glad it’s not a reception or a court appearance
that requires stiff fashion.”
A half-hour wouldn’t be enough, but it fitted with
Faone’s plan to lace her cousin into the dress with no time allowed for
changing her mind when she saw the low décolletage. “A veil, though, that will
be essential since you are traveling in hired chair. Bluish pink lace, I think.
I know where we can buy the very thing. And slippers and stockings and gloves
and a chemise and that ruffled petticoat.”
“Surely not all those things?”
“Yes, all those things. You can pay for them?”
“You won’t bankrupt me in one shopping trip,
Faone, never fear.” She stood up, adjusted the swordbelt and then the angle of
the long blade. “Thank you for your help. And for your help last evening as
well. I do believe that we achieved the effect we were after.”
When the door closed on her, Faone dropped into
the little chair and let the sunlight bathe her face. With one part of her
mind, she considered ways to dress Camisse’s short hair. Last night’s coronet
with tousled curls would not work for the cherry pink. The other part of her
mind returned to her earlier musings.
Unless Arctos was part of the stream of thoughts,
she cringed at the memories. His sudden prominence in her meditations added to
her worries. She did not want to become enamored of the man. Dangerous with his
scars, very attractive in his treatment of her, but she was not an
impressionable debutante.
Deliberately, she steered her thoughts to Sanglier.
The slave comment still bothered her. And now she remembered another of his
tossed comments. He had spoken over his shoulder to Runniger, as if he didn’t
think she would hear him when he had her so enthralled with working a spell. He’d
said that the linkage was an invasion designed to control.
That sounded like the forbidden Nexus. That was
Saldoran’s crime. He had linked with lesser wizards and adepts, stolen their
powers, and controlled them like slaves. Only a great war against all the
wizards in the Enclave had defeated him.
Does Sanglier think he can control me with
spells? Did he think he had me hypnotized?
Had he worked a spell into her already,
enthralling her to him? Bringing her back to that house day after day after
day?
Faone grimaced. On the street once, she had passed
an opium addict. He’d shaken from withdrawal as he begged for coins to pay for
the smoke he craved.
Had those first spells Runniger worked, before
Sanglier arrived in Tres Lucerna, had those spells been the ones to addict her?
She’d never missed a circle. Her whole clan called her ‘flighty’ since she was
so easily distracted. Yet she’d latched onto the circle. Even when the sex
never improved, she continued to haunt the outlander house. She was so often
there that she’d seen things, heard things that she should have questioned: Arctos
called Martel the Prime. The other men looked to Martel first when
Arctos gave an order, as if confirming with him before they carried it out. Clem’s
arrogance when a mere servant for the outlander wizards had no reason to be so
proud. Runniger’s scars that he said bound him in service to Sanglier. The
mysterious scaled gloves that she’d seen in Sanglier’s room.
And the circle, using a linkage so similar to the
Nexus that her cousin Camisse had questioned it even as she participated in it.
The Nexus was powerful. And dangerous, for it
combined so many powers that only a master wizard could control the linkage. And
the master wizard could control every person in that linkage, sapping their
power for his own use.
Was that Sanglier’s plan?
Then why did he involve himself with a flighty
Naught?
Or am I the door into Clan Letheina?
All the Links
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074HJG1P7
Books2Read https://books2read.com/u/mVx7a6
Who is the Fae
Mark’d Wizard? https://writersinkbooks.com/weave-wizardry-web/
Meet Alstera https://remiblack.blogspot.com/2021/05/meet-alstera-fae-markd-wizard.html
Opening to novel https://writersinkbooks.com/free-glimpse-weaveweb-ch1/
A Bit on the Danger
https://writersinkbooks.com/twisted-magic/
Trailer https://youtu.be/jePz27U2Y6U
Chapters 1, 2 and 3 https://remiblack.blogspot.com/2026/04/weave-wizardry-web-opening-chapter-1-2.html
Chapters 4 and 5 https://remiblack.blogspot.com/2026/06/weave-wizardry-web-chapters-4-and-5.html
Chapters 6 and 7 https://remiblack.blogspot.com/2026/07/weave-wizardry-web-chapters-6-7.html
Chapters 8 & 9 https://remiblack.blogspot.com/2026/08/weave-wizardry-web-chapters-8-9.html
chapters 10 & 11 https://remiblack.blogspot.com/2026/09/weave-wizardry-web-chapters-10-11.html
Chapters 12 & 13 https://remiblack.blogspot.com/2026/09/weave-wizardry-web-chapters-12-13.html
On WIB 1, 2 and 3 https://writersinkbooks.com/celebrate-with-remi-black/
On WIB 4/5 https://writersinkbooks.com/free-fantasy-chapters-4-5-of-weave-a-wizardry-web/
On WIB 6/7 https://writersinkbooks.com/free-fantasy-chapters-6-7-of-weave-a-wizardry-web/
On WIB Chapters 8 & 9 https://writersinkbooks.com/free-fantasy-continues-weave-web-chapters-8-9/
Chapters 10 & 11 https://writersinkbooks.com/free-fantasy-continues-weave-web-chapters-10-11/
Chapters 12 & 13 https://writersinkbooks.com/more-free-fantasy-weave-a-wizardry-web-chapters-12-13/
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