‘Shouldn’t you be preparing for your own tests?’ I asked, hoping to change the subject.
She opened up the palm of her hand and revealed a gold disc. ‘My duel was this morning. I almost refused when that old fool Osia’phest told me I had to fight Enyeris. She’s the weakest student among all those taking the trials.’
Not the weakest any more, I thought bitterly. When I caught Shalla looking at me as if I was some kind of invalid I said, ‘I’m fine. Thanks for asking.’
Her mouth opened but no words came out. I let her hang that way for a few seconds, hoping a bug might fly in through the window and land in her mouth. At last she said, ‘You’re fine?’
I nodded and patted the left side of my chest. ‘Heart’s beating just how it should.’ I had no idea if that was true of course. It might have been ticking backwards for all I knew. I stood up and opened my wardrobe and began searching for a clean shirt. ‘Really, Shalla, I’m doing great, but I’ve got some important errands, so if you don’t mind …?’
‘Your magic is fading, Kellen. Soon it’ll be completely gone. And you’re saying you’re fine?’
I didn’t respond. She was trying to pick a fight with me. In Shalla’s world, a fight was a chance to prove how smart she was; a test of wills to be quickly won – after which she would magnanimously declare that the conflict and anger could now be forgotten. Shalla was my sister and one of the three people I loved best in the world, but I didn’t want to ‘fight and forget’. Despite how much I was soon going to need my sister’s help, at that moment I couldn’t stand even to look at her.
I exchanged my dust-covered shirt from the day before for a dark grey linen one from the wardrobe that suited both the evening sky and my mood.
‘And what “errands” do you have tonight?’ she asked, idly picking at my food. ‘Is this because Mouse Girl came around asking about you?’
‘“Mouse Girl”?’
‘The dull one from your class. The one with the pointy face. Nephi … Neph …’
‘Nephenia?’ I asked. ‘She doesn’t have a pointy face. She’s the most –’ The smug look on Shalla’s face stopped me from saying any more. The last thing I wanted was to give her one more thing to hold over me. I looked away and my eyes settled on the deck of cards sitting on the edge of the little table next to my bed. I walked over and retrieved the deck, feeling the cards slide smoothly into my palm. I resisted the urge to fan the cards out and start flipping them in the air. ‘I have to go. Father said I was to return these to Ferius Parfax right away.’
Shalla stopped playing with my food and turned to me, her expression suddenly very serious. ‘No, he said to send a servant. You should stay away from that woman, Kellen. People are saying she’s a spy for the Daroman king, come to interfere in the election of the next clan prince.’
‘It’s going to be Father,’ I said reflexively.
‘Of course it’s going to be Father. So why is this Ferius woman here? What does she want?’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied, tucking the deck into the pocket of my shirt. ‘I’ll be sure to ask her when I see her.’
I turned to open the door, only to have it open in front of me. Our father stood in the doorway, his tall frame lit by the lanterns in the hallway behind him, casting a shadow over me. He held out his right hand and there, across his palm, was a rolled piece of parchment sealed with black wax. An edict, I realised, suddenly terrified. Ra’meth has got the council to issue an edict against me. ‘You’ve been summoned,’ he said.
I couldn’t tell from his voice how much of what he felt was concern for me and how much was anger over whatever infamy I’d brought down on our house. ‘You have to open it, Kellen,’ he said. ‘There is a guard from the palace waiting outside.’
I reached out and took the scroll, hands shaking. It felt heavier than it should, and when I opened it something fell out onto the floor. I looked down and saw the light reflecting off a small gold disc, just like the one Shalla had received for winning her duel. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said, reaching down to pick it up.
Shalla took the disc from me and held it up to examine it next to her own. They were identical. ‘What does the summons say?’ she asked.
I began to unroll the scroll and only then noticed the symbol pressed into the black wax: a star rising above waves in the water. ‘That’s the sign of the clan prince,’ I said, turning to my father. ‘But … he’s dead. How could …?’
My father’s eyes narrowed, examining the seal as if he might find some flaw in its design. ‘The prince is dead, but there is one other who may still use his symbol.’
‘The dowager magus,’ Shalla breathed. ‘But she hasn’t held court in …’
Neither of us knew the answer. The dead clan prince’s wife hadn’t left the palace since long before either of us was born. To us, she was little more than the stern, cold features carved onto the face of the statue outside the palace gates bearing her name. I opened up the scroll and found written on its surface a single sentence. ‘I have questions for you.’
I glanced up at my father, the scroll in my right hand and the gold disc in my left. ‘What do I do?’
The uncertainty in his eyes settled on a look of concern for me. ‘You have no choice. She is the dowager. There will be a price for refusing her.’
9
The Dowager
I had never been through the palace gates before. Inside was a huge expanse, lit by nothing but the stars overhead, walled in by stone colonnades that rose twenty feet from the swept sandy ground. In the centre stood the palace itself, a large single-storey building with seven walls that sloped inwards, making the heptagonal roof smaller than the foundations. I could still see the seven pale lights rising up from the roof and shining towards the stars, a reminder that the clan prince was dead, and that these were dangerous times.
The lone guard who’d delivered the edict walked me right past the palace, leading me instead to the seemingly endless gardens behind. The darkness, the emptiness, made me feel very alone. Was this why my parents had been forbidden to accompany me? With the shadows all around, this would be an excellent place to murder someone.
By now the council would certainly have banned any feuding while the election of the next clan prince was under way, but would Ra’meth really fear their judgment? How much would it cost to bribe one guard into eliminating the son of a rival?