‘She is a child! She doesn’t know what she—’
‘A child? She sparks one of her bands every other week. Her power grows daily. What manner of mage will she become, when her spells are tempered not with humility and conscience but instead amplified by arrogance and pride?’
There was a long pause in the argument while the sound of my father’s pacing rumbled along the floorboards of the house. ‘I could counter-band her,’ he said. ‘Permanently. I have the metals waiting in my study. I know the sigils. I needn’t even ask the council.’
‘Husband! You cannot!’
‘Father, no! Please!’
His footsteps stopped. ‘I am the head of this house. It is my right and my responsibility both to protect this family and to protect the clan from the threat of another rogue mage. I will bind her forever if I must. Do not doubt it.’
My mind suddenly filled with visions of Shalla being held down by the force of my father’s will as he pushed banding needles into her forearms, coloured inks of copper and silver insinuating themselves under the skin, the counter-sigils binding the magic inside her forever. I rose to my feet and reached for the doorknob.
‘You say things you do not mean to,’ my mother said. Her voice held a stiff tone she used only rarely, like a steel bar fresh from the forge. Even my father knew not to test that strength.
‘I’m sorry, Father,’ Shalla whimpered. I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding in and stepped back from the door. I knew my father loved Shalla fiercely, and yet now he seemed to be contemplating the unthinkable.
‘Go to your room,’ he said. His voice had lost its imperious edge, replaced by a weary resignation. ‘I will take time to consider the appropriate course of action.’
Several minutes passed before I heard my mother speak again, this time her tone softer, gentler. ‘Shalla is not like your mother, Ke’heops, nor was she to blame for what she did. Seren’tia was sick, she was –’
‘She was shadowblack,’ he said.
The world became silent and still, shut down by the word my father had just uttered. Shadowblack?
There are seven fundamental sources of magical force, but Jan’Tep mages are banded with only six: iron, ember, silk, sand, blood and breath. No mage is ever banded with the seventh, because shadow is the magic of emptiness, of the void, of the demonic. Our ancient enemies, the Mahdek, drew upon shadow for their spells. That’s why the Mahdek are long dead.
My grandmother had died when Shalla and I were still small children. I knew she’d lost her mind – something that can’t be allowed for a mage with her power – but could she really have been shadowblack?
No wonder our father was concerned about Shalla’s behaviour.
‘Nice family you got there.’
I spun around and lost my balance, tripping over my own feet and stumbling forward. If Ferius hadn’t caught me I probably would’ve tumbled out the open window beside her.
‘Reckon you can fly now, kid?’
Looking up at her I was again struck by the unruly curls of copper-coloured hair that tumbled across her features. They might have suited a lady of the high court had they not seen more sun than a broad-brimmed frontier hat could hold at bay. Her black leather waistcoat was scuffed, and her linen shirt had long ago traded its original colour for a thousand miles worth of dust. But it was the smile – curled up on one side as if she was holding back the best joke in the world – that really set Ferius Parfax at odds with the refined elegance of my mother’s study.
‘How did you get in here without me hearing you?’ I asked.
She steadied me and gave me a little wink. ‘Who can say? Maybe it was magic.’
‘I didn’t know Daroman could—’
Ferius sniggered. ‘You Jan’Tep. So reliant on your little spells that you can’t imagine getting through the day without them. You were distracted, kid, that’s all. I’ve been tapping on that window for the past five minutes, but you were so focused on listening to your parents through that big old door that you were oblivious to what was happening right behind you. A roof snake looking for a midnight snack would’ve made a meal of you by now.’
‘I nearly died from having my own sister hit me with a sword spell,’ I said, irritated. ‘I’m not exactly at my best. What time is it anyway?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t pay much attention to clocks, but I’d guess I left you here around four hours ago.’
‘I’ve been unconscious for four hours?’
‘Probably longer than that, seeing as how I had to spend forever explaining to your mom how I revived you.’ Ferius shook her head. ‘And the woman calls herself a healer? Anyway, your dad had a bunch of questions, your sister had a bunch of excuses – but no one offered me anything to drink. So I left and spent the next couple of hours discovering that nothing remotely resembling a saloon stays open after midnight in this hick little town of yours. Thought I may as well come back and check on you.’
It struck me as a little odd that a Daroman cartographer – not that I believed that’s what she really was – would go to the trouble. Maybe she was hoping to get paid for saving my life.
I walked carefully back to the door to see if I could hear any more of what was happening on the other side. My parents were still arguing, though not loud enough for me to make out anything but the occasional word like ‘weakness’ and ‘flaw’ and, of course, my name.
Shame and exhaustion drove me back to sit down on the settee. Ferius took a seat next to me and reached into the pocket of her waistcoat to pull out a short, stubby smoking reed. ‘I don’t think I like your family, kid.’
Despite the fact that I’d be a corpse right now if it weren’t for her, it irked me that this woman thought she could come into my family’s house and pass judgment on us. ‘I suppose your family is so much better?’
‘Well, my family’s all dead,’ she said, lighting the reed with a match and taking a puff from it. ‘So they’re not nearly as noisy.’
A quiet knock at the door startled me. Abydos, our steward, entered the room with a tray. The aroma of freshly baked bread and poppy-seed cheese filled the room and tugged at me, helped along by the sharply sweet scent of mulled pomegranate juice. When Abydos caught sight of Ferius he stiffened. ‘I see you’ve returned, Lady Ferius.’
‘I’m no lady, but yeah, I’m back.’
Abydos set the tray down on the table in front of me. ‘I wasn’t sure when you last ate, Master Kellen.’ His eyes flicked from me to Ferius and back again.
‘Oh, relax, Aby,’ she said, laughing. ‘You look as if you’re trying to decide whether I’m here to kill the kid or seduce him.’
‘And which is it?’ he asked.
‘Abydos!’ I said, my voice rising. ‘This woman is a guest in our house. You will—’