18
The Red Deck
‘You’re really starting to annoy people around here, you know that?’ Ferius and I were walking down an alley towards the seedy little guest house where she was staying. There were nicer ones in town, but apparently this was the only one willing to rent her a room. The Jan’Tep do not hold grudges. That sentence was really starting to sound hollow in my ears.
‘Can’t help it, kid,’ she said. ‘You people have endless ways of amusing me.’
‘Well, you’re not amusing anyone.’
It had taken stern words from my father to keep half a dozen people from challenging Ferius. She’d thanked him politely but told the crowd they were more than welcome to set up appointments at her guest house, where she’d happily kick their asses one a day for as long as they wanted to keep it up. Finally the council had ordered everyone to leave the oasis and to stay away until further notice. It probably would have made more sense to keep the nekhek locked up somewhere inside, but both my father and the council were of the view that the oasis had the best magical wards and would make it much easier to use sympathy spells to draw any other nekhek later on. The crowd hadn’t needed much incentive to disperse after that. Fear of the creature’s poison and disease was enough to keep them away.
My guilt over not telling Ferius about the dowager magus’s interest in her faded as my irritation with her grew. ‘You’re wrong, you know,’ I told her.
‘I’m wrong about lots of things. Which one in particular is bothering you today?’
‘The nekhek. It’s a lot more dangerous than—’
‘Squirrel cat, kid. It’s just a big damned flying squirrel. Might as well learn what a thing is if you’re going to kill it.’
‘Whatever. I’ve seen pictures of all kinds of animals in books, and that thing doesn’t look like a squirrel to me. Besides, squirrels aren’t even native to this part of the continent.’
‘Neither are you.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
She tapped a finger against my forehead. ‘Look how pale your skin is, kid. You reckon a climate like this breeds people who burn so easy under the sun?’
I looked around and saw a couple walking down the street and pointed them out. ‘There are plenty of Jan’Tep with dark skin. There are Jan’Tep with different shape and colour eyes too.’
‘Exactly. You Jan’Tep aren’t a race, you’re just a collection of different families. Mages who came from all over the continent to fight over the oases across this territory. Sometimes you waged war over them, other times you just merged with other tribes who’d come for the same reason. I bet not one of you has a drop of blood from the original people that lived here.’
‘So what?’
‘So maybe the squirrel cats were drawn here for the same reason. Maybe they like magic too.’
I felt as if I was losing the argument, but I wasn’t sure how. ‘My people belong here. We need the oasis to give us the strength to protect ourselves from those who’d hunt us down or enslave us for our magic.’
Ferius snorted. ‘Enslave you? That’s rich.’
‘What do you mean? And what does any of this have to do with our right to protect ourselves from the nekhek?’
Ferius stopped and put a gloved hand over my eyes.
‘Hey!’
‘Stop squirming, kid. Just picture the animals you saw in your books. Can you do that?’
Focusing on an image, making it crystal clear in the mind’s eye, is something mages are trained to do from their first lessons. ‘Of course I can,’ I said.
‘Good. Now think about the animal back there in the square.’
‘I am.’
She slapped the back of my head. ‘Not the monster in your stories. Not the thing everyone tells you to see. I want you to picture the actual creature trapped inside that cage.’
It’s hard comparing a drawing made from pen and inks to a real thing you’ve seen, but I did my best to envision them side by side in my mind. ‘Fine. I’m doing it.’
‘Well? Can you really tell me that those two things aren’t related?’
‘I …’
The truth was, I couldn’t. While they didn’t look exactly alike, it was probably just because I’d always pictured the animals in books as … I don’t know, further away? I’d seen the nekhek up close. I’d seen what it could do. I’d felt its rage. ‘I still don’t think it’s the same thing.’
Ferius removed her hand from my eyes and started back down the alley. ‘Of course not, kid. The creature you’ve captured, why, that’s the dreaded nekhek! Demon slayer of Jan’Tep mages! Also, rampant eater of other people’s rubbish, and hoarder of nuts.’
‘You’re wrong,’ I said. ‘Maybe it looks like a …’ I felt so stupid I couldn’t even say the thing’s name out loud. ‘Look, I’ve seen how vicious that creature is. Wait until the council uses it to reel in all the other nekhek in the area and kill them. Wait until you see what a pack of them looks like. Then maybe you’ll understand.’
‘And what are you going to do while they’re torturing that animal?’ she asked, stopping in her tracks.
Something sharp in her voice surprised me. I had to walk ahead of her and turn back round to see her face. There was no humour there. No jokes. Her eyes were deadly serious.
‘What do you mean? What do I have to do with this?’
‘You said that animal saved your sister.’
‘I said it killed a sick dog before it could bond with her. That’s not the same thing. Maybe the nekhek just likes to kill other animals.’ I was lying to myself though. I could still see the look on the creature’s face after it had snapped the diseased dog’s neck. If anything, the nekhek had looked enraged at having to do it.
Ferius reached into her waistcoat and pulled out a deck of her cards. These weren’t the regular ones like she’d given me, nor were they the sharp metal ones she’d used as weapons. The backs of these cards were the darkest red I’d ever seen, almost black. She fanned them and held them out to me. ‘Pick a card, kid.’
‘What’s this about?’
‘You said those men were trying to hurt your sister. You were begging anyone or anything to save her, and that squirrel cat came along and you got what you wanted. Isn’t that right?’
‘You’re distorting the facts,’ I said. ‘You’re making it sound like—’
‘Pick a card, Kellen.’
I looked around, suddenly realising how dark it had become. ‘Not until you tell me what this is about.’
‘It’s about you deciding whether or not you’re going to be a man.’
‘You keep going on about me having to be a man. You keep insulting my people’s magic and my family’s –’
‘The world’s got plenty of mages, Kellen. What it needs are men and women.’ She made the words sound different than the way people usually say them. Important, somehow.
I hated the way she spoke about magic as if it were a joke, as if my people were no different than children playing with toys. More than anything I hated the way she kept holding the fanned cards out to me, challenging me to take one.
‘Look, I’m not—’
‘Shut up and pick a card. Pick a card or turn around and walk away and don’t ever look back. The world is a big and dangerous place and there’s more darkness filling it than you’ll ever know. Only one thing fights that – men and women who don’t walk away from their debts. Pick a card now, Kellen, because I won’t ask again.’
I was so sick of her tricks and her games. For every little thing she taught me, there was some test or trap, each one forcing me to do things I didn’t want to do. But even though I’d only known Ferius Parfax for all of three days, I knew without the slightest doubt that while this might be a trick, it wasn’t any kind of joke. If I didn’t take the card I would never see her again. I don’t know why, but the thought scared me. I took a card from the middle.
‘Three of hearts,’ I said, my eyes captured by the dark crimson hearts set against the beige background, the calligraphy of the number three written in the same red-black ink as the back of the card. ‘What does it mean?’
She closed the deck and slipped it back into her waistcoat. ‘The card you pick doesn’t matter.’
‘Then I don’t get it,’ I said, holding the card up. ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’
She sidestepped around me and headed further down the alley. ‘How should I know? Just do the right thing. Maybe just look that animal in the eyes before you consign it to death. Do what you think the man you want to be would do. Then I’d suggest you get rid of that card real quick.’
I looked down at the thing as if it might burst into flames. ‘What did you just make me take? Is this some kind of curse?’
‘Life’s a curse, kid. Love is the cure.’
I started running after her but stopped myself when I realised how stupid I must look. ‘I don’t know what that means!’
‘It’s your debt, Kellen. You figure out how to pay it. Reckon I saved your life, so now that’s one less debt for me.’
I wanted to tear the card up and toss it on the ground and stomp on it until it was crushed into dust. Damned Ferius Parfax with her stupid jokes and her tricks and her mysterious remarks. I looked back at her and saw that she was almost at the door of the guest house. ‘Wait! If the card is supposed to represent some kind of debt, then what are you doing with a whole deck of them?’
She held up something in her hand and I heard coins tinkling. ‘Getting really, really drunk,’ she said, and walked through the open door.
I was halfway home and walking through a narrow alleyway that usually provided a convenient shortcut when I found myself face to face with a palace guardsman. He looked oddly out of place in the dirt and dust of the alley.
‘You startled me,’ I said, trying to recover my breath.
He gave no reply, but instead held out a roll of parchment. Even in the dim light I could make out the black wax seal of the dowager magus. I cracked the seal and opened it, careful not to let the anticipated gold disc fall out. However, the parchment was empty, save for a single, hastily scrawled message. ‘At your convenience,’ it said.
I looked down at the ground, wondering if perhaps the disc had fallen without my noticing. Without it, Osia’phest wouldn’t allow me to attempt the third trial alongside the other initiates. ‘Was there anything else with the message?’ I asked the guard.
Again he remained silent.
I noticed he also made no move to leave, or to let me walk past him. ‘So when she says, “At your convenience,” what she really means is …’
The guard gave me a slight smile for the first time. ‘Now,’ he said.
My second meeting with the dowager magus was just as odd as the first, though vastly more uncomfortable.
‘Just how stupid is your father?’ Mer’esan asked, hands across her lap as she sat in her chair looking up at me.
I worked my way through a rather long list of possible replies, trying to find one that would perfectly articulate my anger at this slight against my family’s honour while also protecting me from a death sentence. ‘Forgive me, Mer’esan, I don’t understand the question.’
‘Yes, you do. Your father believes the Mahdek have come back from the dead to attack our people, that they decided to target your sister, and that bringing a nekhek to our city is a good idea.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Disgusting little monsters.’
‘Ferius …’ I hesitated.
‘Speak,’ Mer’esan commanded.
‘She says the animal is called a squirrel cat – that it’s not a demon at all.’
‘And what do you believe?’
Again I searched for a reply that wouldn’t get me into trouble. ‘Lord Magus Ke’heops,’ I began, using my father’s formal title, ‘believes that some of the Mahdek must have survived, perhaps growing their numbers in secret. He believes they intend to use the nekhek to—’
‘No, he only says he believes this foolishness.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Apparently you think he’s even more of an idiot than I do. He hopes to take advantage of this opportunity to show how his strength is what our people need now that my husband is dead.’
A thought occurred to me then, like a fist clenched around my stomach. ‘Do you intend to resist my father’s election as clan prince?’
‘I couldn’t care less who becomes the next clan prince, child.’
The next words came out of my mouth far too fast for my own good. ‘Then what exactly do you care about, Mer’esan?’
The sudden stare she gave me convinced me that I’d gone too far. She rose to her feet and began walking around me as if I were a poorly made sculpture she were examining. ‘You fought your own friends to save the Argosi woman. Why?’
I considered my reply. If Mer’esan had decided that Ferius was, in fact, some kind of spy or wished us ill, it wouldn’t be hard to interpret my actions as treason against my own people. ‘You commanded me to maintain her interest in me, Dowager Magus.’
She stopped in front of me and held up a hand. Once again I could see the web of coloured tendrils of energy weaving under her skin. ‘It takes almost every ounce of magic I have to keep myself alive, Kellen, but I assure you the minuscule amount that remains is more than enough to beat the truth from you.’
I thought up a dozen other reasons, plausible explanations for my actions. I’m a reasonably accomplished liar most days. But the dowager magus seemed to be better at detecting dishonesty than I was at conjuring it. ‘I like her,’ I said.
‘You like her?’
I nodded.
‘Is she particularly pretty? Do you desire this woman? Do you hope she might –’ Mer’esan waved a finger in the direction of my trousers – ‘teach you things?’
I felt my cheeks flush and started fumbling for words, then stopped myself. It’s a game. Mer’esan knows I wasn’t referring to some misplaced teenage lust. She’s testing me again.
‘Ah,’ the dowager magus said, tapping my forehead. ‘Clever. Good.’ She resumed her slow walk around me. ‘Show me more.’
‘You don’t believe the Mahdek have returned,’ I said.
‘That much is obvious.’
‘But you think there is a threat,’ I added.
‘Again, obvious.’
I thought about how angry she was over my father’s assumptions. ‘You believe the men in masks are a distraction.’
She quickened her pace. ‘Obvious. Obvious. Obvious. Ask me a question worthy of an answer.’
I tried to imagine who might be working against us. The Daroman kings had a long history of seeking control over the Jan’Tep. That was why people were so quick to believe Ferius must be a spy. The Mahdek – if there were any left – had sworn blood oaths to destroy us, which explained my father’s convictions. The Berabesq considered our magic to be a blasphemy against their six-faced god … We had no end of enemies – that was precisely why magic was so vital to our society, why the trials were so harsh. It was why Jan’Tep and Sha’Tep were not allowed to marry – for fear that such unions would weaken the bloodlines.
‘Speak,’ Mer’esan said, still pacing around me. ‘I’m growing impatient of watching you stand there.’
‘A moment,’ I said.
Despite the avarice of our enemies, we had never been subjugated. Our magic had always been too strong. So why was Mer’esan – the oldest and most knowledgeable person in our clan – suddenly so concerned?
‘Ask the question,’ she demanded, her sandals slapping against the wooden floor.
‘What is the one foe that magic cannot withstand?’ I asked.
She stopped, and patted me on the arm. ‘Good,’ she said, her voice suddenly weary. ‘This is the question that men like your father, like those pompous fools on the council, cannot think to ask. The very possibility of a threat that magic cannot solve is utterly foreign to them.’
Whereas for me, the possibility of using magic to solve anything is fading fast.
‘The second trial comes to an end and you have failed it,’ she said, without a trace of sympathy in her voice. ‘Now you fear you will fail the third as well.’
‘How can I create a spell using two disciplines when I can’t break even one of my bands?’
‘I told you once before: do not ask questions to which you already know the answer.’
‘Then … it’s over. My sixteenth birthday is in a few days. I’m never going to become a mage. I’m going to be Sha’Tep.’
I felt myself becoming dizzy, as if just saying the words out loud had drained the strength from my limbs. Mer’esan held my arms. ‘You will never be a Jan’Tep mage like your father and mother. Whether you become a servant like your uncle is up to you.’
Like a child I held out my forearms, the metallic ink of the bands almost glistening in the cottage’s soft light. ‘Can’t you help me? You have the power, I know you do. Can’t you—’
‘I cannot,’ she said simply.
‘Why?’ I asked, tears sliding down my cheeks. ‘Why is this happening to me? Why won’t anyone help me?’
She didn’t answer, but simply led me by the hand to the door of the cottage. ‘These are the questions of a child, Kellen. You already found the one that matters, the one that binds all of our fates together. Ask it again.’
She had ushered me outside. ‘What is the foe that can’t be defeated by magic?’
Mer’esan looked at me, her face so full of sadness that for the first time she looked every one of her years. ‘The truth,’ she replied.