‘Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?’ I asked again.
We had finally reached the first of the seven wide marble steps that led up to the entrance of my family home. I felt my sense of elation over breaking the breath band fade a little as the thought of the punishment awaiting me behind those thick double doors ahead of us sank in. I had snuck out of my father’s house without permission, set free one of the creatures my people most feared and despised and struck my fellow students. When did I become such a terrible son?
‘I can stand on my own,’ I muttered.
‘Take three deep breaths, kid,’ Ferius said as she set me down.
‘What good will that do?’
‘It’ll keep your voice from sounding thin and whiny when you talk to your parents.’
As if that’ll make any difference. Why hadn’t I just run to find one of the city guards when I’d come upon Tennat, Panahsi and Nephenia torturing the squirrel cat? That would have put a stop to it without setting the little monster free and ruining my life. There was a knot in my stomach. Back at the square I’d thought I was doing the right thing, but now I had to explain it to my parents without sounding completely insane, and all I could think was that maybe I was insane. Mages don’t attack other mages to save a creature whose favourite food was probably Jan’Tep babies. But if I hadn’t saved the animal, if I hadn’t fought against my friends, would the breath band have broken? Would my parents balance out my crime against the rewards to our family?
‘Stand straight, kid,’ said Ferius at the sound of footsteps from inside the house. Someone was coming to the door. ‘If you can’t be tough, look tough.’
I thrust my shoulders back and immediately felt like an idiot. The problem with Ferius was that she confused things that mattered – like being able to cast a shield spell – with things that didn’t, like standing up straight. Who cared if I looked confident? I’d already brought shame on my father when my magic had failed, and now I’d compounded it by helping the nekhek escape. Even if Panahsi and Nephenia stuck to the story, Tennat would tell his father and Ra’meth would demand that I be prosecuted for my actions. My father was going to have to humiliate himself in front of the council and invoke his prerogative as a master mage to have the punishment lessened. Saving me was going to hurt his chances of becoming clan prince. Against that, how much would it matter to him that I’d sparked a single band?
I glanced over at Ferius, searching for something clever to say that would let her know just how badly she’d screwed up my life, but her eyes were still fixed on the doors to my house. ‘You sure about this, Kellen?’ she asked.
It was one of the few times she’d ever used my name. ‘What do you mean?’
Ferius turned and knelt down a fraction so that we were eye-to-eye. She was only an inch or two taller than me, so it annoyed me that she’d bothered. ‘My horse is tethered about a mile from here. She can carry both of us a ways, and there’s a place a few miles down the road where I can get us another. Say the word, kid, and I’ll get us out of here.’
‘Are you joking? I just sparked my first band! I’m going to be a Jan’Tep mage like my father! Why would I ever …’
The doors creaked open; light from inside cut through the night. Ferius nudged me over a few feet. ‘Stay in that patch of shadow,’ she said.
Spirits of our ancestors, I thought. I must really look terrible.
It would only get worse. Chances are I was facing house arrest coupled with a public flogging. The latter wouldn’t be so bad so long as my mother was allowed to heal the wounds right away. But if I was stuck inside, how was I going to take my mage’s trials? For the first time I had an actual chance of passing them for real.
My mother’s face appeared, lit from behind like one of the goddesses our ancestors used to worship. Even with the look of concern on her face she was beautiful. And powerful, I thought, feeling the soft movement in the air from the magical energy crackling around her.
‘Kellen, is that you?’ she asked, her eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness. She looked around but I was in the shadows. Her eyes fell on Ferius.
‘Lady Ferius, where is—’
‘I’m here, Mother,’ I said, trying to step out but Ferius put a hand on me and kept me where I was.
‘Oh, thank the ancestors,’ she said, turning back for a moment to shout into the house. ‘Ke’heops! Kellen has returned!’
A moment later my father emerged from the house, his silver-and-blue robes shimmering from the light behind him. He was holding a small scrying mirror in his hand, and when he caught sight of me he placed it into one of the pockets of his robes. ‘Where is she?’ he demanded.
At first I thought he must be referring to Ferius and had somehow missed her standing a few feet away. ‘It’s not her fault, Father. It was my idea to …’ I couldn’t finish the sentence. Of course it’s her fault, you idiot. Ferius is the one who convinced you to help the squirrel cat.
His eyes narrowed and then he glanced over at Ferius before setting his gaze back on me. ‘I don’t care about the Argosi card player. What have you done with your sister?’
My father’s face was a mask of anger and frustration that scared me more than the hideous black-and-red lacquer ones worn by the men who’d attacked Shalla and me in the forest.
‘Father, I swear, I haven’t done anything with Shalla. I haven’t even seen her since—’
‘Oh,’ my mother said, her voice equal parts frustration and fearful resignation. I knew that tone, or at least a small part of it. She’d been scrying for hours, trying to find my sister. The spells used for scrying are dangerous, draining a mage’s power as their mind searches further and further afield. My mother looked exhausted. How far had she pushed herself?
I started towards the stairs, but Ferius put a hand on my shoulder again and stopped me. ‘When was the last time you saw the girl?’
My father’s jaw clenched and I knew he was rightfully outraged. This was our household’s business, and to have an outsider ask the question was unseemly. My mother answered. ‘Shalla woke up hours ago, largely unharmed, but … her falcon was dead. It had sickened in the night and nothing we did helped it. Her spells wouldn’t work. She was terrified that she might be like …’ She hesitated as she glanced over at where I stood in the shadows. ‘We told her it was far too soon to fear a permanent loss of her magic, but Shalla just became more and more agitated. She was inconsolable and eventually I had to give her a light sedative to calm her. She should have slept for hours, but—’