‘Shalla snuck out sometime this afternoon,’ my father said, his voice grim. ‘We thought she must be with you, Kellen, that the pair of you had hatched some further foolishness to restore your magic.’
I felt suddenly disgusted with myself. While I was busy bringing yet more shame to my family, something terrible had happened to my sister. I was almost too ashamed to show my parents that I’d sparked the breath band.
My father rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead, looking more tired than I’d seen him in a very long time. ‘We must attempt the scrying again.’ He turned to my mother. ‘I do not have the magic of silk, Bene’maat. We must risk more of your strength if we are to find her.’
My mother returned his gaze. ‘Husband … I will try, but—’
‘Or you could just go look for the girl,’ Ferius said. The casual, almost dismissive tone of her voice instantly angered me. I turned to say something, but stopped when I saw her kneeling on the cobbled street, the fingers of one gloved hand tracing patterns in the dirt and dust. ‘I could track her,’ she said, then looked up at my father. ‘I can do it quiet too, since I reckon the reason you haven’t gone yourself is that you don’t want the wrong folks knowing your daughter’s missing.’
I tried to imagine how you could search for someone without using scrying spells. It seemed preposterous. But my parents’ panic was beginning to infect me. ‘Can you really do it, Ferius? Can you find my sis—’
‘Be silent, Kellen.’ My father’s voice brooked no dissent. He started down the stairs, slowly, methodically, until finally he stood towering over Ferius. ‘And what will it cost me, Argosi?’
He made the word Argosi sound like something mean and dirty. ‘Father, Ferius is my friend. She would never—’
Before I could finish, Ferius Parfax replied: ‘A pardon.’
Everything went still. My father looked confused at first, but then he crossed his arms across his broad chest. ‘A pardon for whom, Argosi? For your Daroman king?’ It wasn’t the first time someone had accused Ferius of being a spy rather than a simple trader, but it surprised me that my father would believe such a ridiculous rumour. Ferius was … well, nothing like how I imagined a spy would be.
But Ferius didn’t answer, and so my father went on. ‘Perhaps your fat king wishes for absolution for some new crime he has committed against the Jan’Tep? Has he betrayed us once again to one of his allies and now fears our retribution?’ My father let the allegation hang in the air, his eyes never leaving Ferius, as if he expected her to crack at any moment under his scrutiny. Again she said nothing and again my father probed with more questions. ‘Or perhaps you wish to purchase this pardon for yourself. Perhaps you’ve betrayed your masters in the capital and hope to find sanctuary here, in the only place the Daroman army fears to tread.’
Despite my father’s ominous words and overwhelming presence, Ferius seemed unruffled, but I noticed she pretended to brush dust from her waistcoat. When she was done one of the pockets was open. She wants to make sure she can reach her weapons, I realised. When she finally spoke, her voice was colder than the ice spell used to preserve the bodies of the dead for burial under the hot sun. ‘No need to be so coy, master mage. If you want to accuse me of something, why don’t you go ahead and see where it leads you?’
‘Would you threaten me, woman?’
‘Long past time somebody did,’ she replied.
Flat-soled sandals clacked against the marble steps as my mother ran towards them. ‘Stop this!’ she commanded. ‘My daughter is missing! She may have been taken!’ My mother knelt down in front of Ferius and placed her hands on the other woman’s boots. ‘Please … I know something of the Argosi ways … I know you don’t mean to be like this.’
Ferius knelt down until her face was at the same height as my mother’s – the same way she’d done to me earlier. ‘Sister, the fact that you’re on your knees tells me you don’t know spit about the Argosi.’
‘Please, Lady Ferius, Shalla is my—’
‘I’m still not a lady,’ Ferius said, cutting her off, ‘and that won’t change no matter how many times you …’ She broke off and shook her head. ‘Ah, forget it, sister.’ She rose up and pulled my mother to her feet. ‘I’ll find your little girl for you.’
‘And the fee?’ my father insisted. ‘To whom must I grant this pardon?’
‘To Kellen,’ Ferius replied.
I felt a stab of shame. Ferius was trying to purchase my safety at the cost of threatening to leave my sister out there alone. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I won’t—’
‘Don’t move,’ Ferius warned. I hadn’t even realised I’d started towards them.
My father looked over to where I still stood in the shadows. ‘What shameful acts have you brought upon our house now, Kellen?’
‘I …’ I lied to you. I freed our enemy. I fought my own people. I hit the girl I love. Suddenly I was too ashamed to speak.
My father started to walk towards me, but Ferius grabbed his wrist. ‘It don’t matter what he’s done. You want me to find the girl, you grant him your pardon right now. When I get back, if he wants, he comes with me. Out of this town and out of your hair. But either way, you give him your pardon.’
Even in the unlit street, I swear I could see my father’s blue eyes burning the darkness away. I thought for sure Ferius had pushed him too far. My mother must have thought so too, because she got between them and put a hand on his chest. ‘Our daughter is out there, Ke’heops. Our Shalla. Alone. The men who attacked her could be hunting her even now while we stand here arguing.’
My father didn’t even bother to turn to look at me when he said, ‘Fine. I pardon you, Kellen.’ He made it sound like a verdict. Then he turned back to Ferius. ‘Now go, Daroman. Show us these tracking skills you Argosi claim to have.’
‘I want to help find Shalla,’ I said.
‘Sorry, kid,’ Ferius said, her eyes still on my father. ‘You’re too injured and I need to move too fast.’
‘Injured?’ my mother asked. ‘Kellen, what’s happened to you? Come here now!’
I obeyed, feeling like an idiot. My sister might be in danger, but my mother was going to fuss over a few bruises. As I walked into the light streaming from the doorway, I held up my right arm in a desperate bid to win a moment of my father’s approval. ‘Look. I broke the breath band.’
‘By the ancestors … what is that on his face?’ my father demanded.
‘It’s just blood,’ I said. ‘I got hurt, all right? It’s not—’
The forefinger of my father’s right hand gave the slightest twitch. The glow-glass lanterns all around us flared bright as the sun, banishing every shadow, except one that I couldn’t see.
‘No!’ My father’s shout split the night in half.