5
The Stand-Off
I woke several times on the journey back home. My father kept a steady pace despite the weight of carrying me. Whenever I opened my eyes I’d see the sky had got darker, only to suddenly blaze with light whenever we passed under one of the city’s glow-glass street lanterns.
‘You’re going to blow one of those things up if you don’t keep that will of yours under wraps,’ Ferius Parfax said, leading her mottled black-and-grey horse beside us.
‘You question my father’s control?’ Shalla demanded, her voice full of righteous fury.
My father spoke a single word – ‘Daughter’ – and Shalla’s eyes darted back to the sandstone sidewalk beneath us.
Ferius gave a little laugh and shook her head.
‘What’s so funny?’ I asked.
‘So many magic words in your language. Who knew the word for “daughter” was the same as the word for “silence”?’
I felt my father’s arms tense beneath my back and legs. ‘How clever. I take it you must be some sort of travelling entertainer? Should I offer you a few coins for your performance?’
My father considers actors and troubadours to be slightly less useful than sand lice.
‘Why, thank you, Great Ke’heops,’ Ferius replied, either not picking up on his sarcasm or not caring to. ‘But no, I’m more of what you’d call a cartographer.’
‘You make maps?’ I glanced back at her horse’s saddlebags, expecting to find the kinds of long wooden tubes my mother uses to protect her fragile charts. ‘Where do you keep them?’
Ferius patted one of the front pockets of her black leather waistcoat. ‘Right here.’
There was no way you could keep proper maps inside a pocket. I was about to point this out to her when I noticed that the buildings along the street on either side of us were getting shabbier and shabbier. No longer the three- and four-storey trimmed limestone houses and marble sanctums we’d passed on the Way of Ancestors, these were squat little buildings made from rough timber or unpolished slabs of sandstone. The exteriors had none of the brass or silver finishings typical of Jan’Tep homes, nor statues or any decoration other than the occasional worn shop sign hanging out front. What little illumination leaked out onto the street came from the flicker of mundane oil lanterns through the wooden slats of unevenly cut windows.
‘Why are we going through the Sha’Tep slums?’ I asked my father. ‘The Way of Ancestors is faster.’
‘This path is … quieter.’
Quieter. You know you’ve sunk pretty low when your own father is embarrassed to be seen with you in public. My chest felt tight. It made no difference that I’d managed to beat Tennat even without spells of my own. No one thought that I’d been clever or brave, not even my own father. All that mattered was that my magic was weak.
‘Guess it makes sense to take the quiet route if you’re looking to avoid trouble,’ Ferius said, reaching into her waistcoat and pulling out a thin smoking reed.
The comment struck me as innocuous, but Shalla was always sensitive to any implied insult to our father. ‘How dare you suggest that Ke’heops would ever—’
‘Daughter!’
The word had come so fast and forceful that it took me a second to realise it was Ferius who’d said it. Shalla looked stunned and stood there for a moment as if someone had cast a chain binding on her.
‘Will you look at that?’ Ferius chuckled. ‘It really works. My very first magic spell.’ She stuck the smoking reed between her teeth and leaned towards Shalla. ‘Give me a light, will you, kid?’
Shalla gave her a look that made it clear she had no intention of obliging her with even that simple spell. Despite knowing better, I lifted up my right hand and called on the magic of ember to flow through me. I turned the full force of my mind and will to envisioning the gap between my thumb and forefinger igniting in flame. When I was sure I had it ready I whispered the single-word incantation, ‘Sepul’tanet.’
Nothing.
This far from the oasis, I couldn’t even make a candle spell work. All I got for my troubles was a sudden wave of exhaustion and the sensation that the tattooed ember band on my arm was cutting into my skin.
‘No need to trouble yourself,’ Ferius said. ‘Got my own magic for this.’ She snapped her fingers and a match appeared between them. She flicked her thumb against the head of the match and it ignited. A few seconds later she was blowing thick rings of hazy red smoke into the air behind us. ‘Someone’s following.’
‘No one of consequence,’ my father said, resuming his progress down the street. ‘Probably just some curious Sha’Tep.’
‘My father cast a warding spell when we left the oasis,’ Shalla explained. ‘He’ll know if any mage comes within a hundred yards of us.’
‘Really?’ Ferius asked. ‘You can do that?’
Shalla smirked at her. ‘We have spells for everything, Daroman.’
Ferius took a drag from her smoking reed. ‘I wonder then, oh great and powerful mages, if there might also be a spell that counters those sorts of wards.’ Before either Shalla or my father could answer, she added, ‘Because those people I mentioned are here, and they ain’t Sha’Tep.’
Voices came shouting from the darkness behind us, followed swiftly by several sets of sandalled feet slapping along the street. ‘Ke’heops! Stand and answer for the crimes of your house!’
My father set me down on my feet. My legs were still wobbly so I leaned against the rickety door frame of a cloth merchant’s shop. When I looked back down the street, I saw the red flapping robes of Ra’meth coming towards us.
Like my father, Ra’meth was one of the lords magi of our clan. He was, quite possibly, the only person who disliked me even more than his son, Tennat, who came alongside with his two older brothers.
‘Good evening, Lord Magus,’ my father greeted Ra’meth. He nodded to the others and added, ‘Adepts. Initiate.’
Both the older boys had passed their mage’s trials a couple of years ago. Ra’fan was a chaincaster now, and Ra’dir a war mage. They both appeared calm, almost cordial, which is how you look when you’ve been preparing yourself for spellcasting. This wasn’t going to be good.
My father showed no sign of concern. ‘I doubt you’ve forgotten the clan prince’s edict, Ra’meth. Our two houses are forbidden from feuding.’
Tennat sniggered, which is the kind of thing you do when you’re too stupid to understand quite how dangerous it is to break an edict. There are all sorts of concealment spells in Jan’Tep magic, but none that will hide you from the clan prince’s wrath if you cross him.
‘We come on a matter of law,’ Ra’meth declared. ‘That foul creature of yours comes with us!’
My father made a show of looking around at Shalla, Ferius and myself. ‘Of which foul creature do you speak? I seem to be plagued with them tonight.’
Ra’meth pointed an elaborately carved oak-and-silver rod about two feet long at me. It was the symbol of his office and a potential conduit for his magic. ‘That filthy wretch cheated in a sanctioned initiates’ duel,’ he said. Ra’meth’s voice had a clear, almost musical quality to it so that, even angry as he was, there was a certain beauty to the way he added, ‘I will see Kellen, son of Ke’heops, bound in copper and buried in a cell this very night.’
My father hesitated. Lying to a fellow member of the mage’s council was grounds for sanction, but if he admitted that Ra’meth’s accusation was true, I’d be dismissed from the mage’s trials. I had put my father in an untenable position.
Damn all you ancestors a thousand times for making me so weak. ‘My spell failed,’ I said. That part was technically true, and not all that uncommon during the trials. ‘I just need another chance to—’
‘So you beat my son with lies and trickery!’ Ra’meth’s glare slid from me to my father. ‘You see? The boy admits his magic is weak. He should never have been allowed among the initiates. How many times have we told you that he should have been declared Sha’Tep years ago?’
‘I … I didn’t beat Tennat,’ I muttered, reeling from the idea that my fate might have been sealed so long ago. ‘My spell failed, that’s all. I just need a little more practice. Just until—’
The end of Ra’meth’s oak-and-silver rod twitched and for a second I couldn’t tell if he was going to hit me with it or cast a spell. A fleeting motion to my left caused me to turn. Ferius had slipped a hand into her waistcoat. ‘Maybe you should stop shaking your little stick there, fella. It’s starting to annoy me.’
Tennat, having been quiet up until now, finally found an opponent he was comfortable threatening. The tattoed iron band on his forearm began to glow, the eerie grey light cutting through the darkness around us. ‘Speak again, Daroman, and I will make the next words out of your mouth a scream for mercy.’
Ferius took a drag from her smoking reed and nodded as if giving his words deep consideration. ‘Sounds serious,’ she said, and let out a puff of smoke that sent Tennat and both his brothers into a coughing fit. ‘Sorry about that. Guess you got me all flustered.’
Tennat did his best to utter a few curses in between coughs.
‘Shut up, Tennat,’ Shalla said. ‘You’re just upset because you lost the duel.’ She turned to his father, favouring him with a little more respect. ‘Lord Magus Ra’meth, Kellen didn’t violate the terms of the duel. He didn’t set any traps or use weapons. The fact that Tennat thought he was losing and gave in wasn’t Kellen’s fault and it wasn’t against the rules.’
Ra’meth was about to say something when my father cut him off and spoke directly to Tennat. ‘Were you injured, boy? Did my son hurt you with … whatever it was he did?’
Tennat’s chin came up. He looked a little green. ‘I’m fine. Kellen could never hurt me. He’s too weak.’
My father nodded, though I could see the skin around his eyes tightening. ‘Then the question is settled.’ He turned to Ra’meth. ‘Your boy wasn’t harmed. This was a simple misunderstanding and is now an issue to be resolved by the respective families, not by the court.’
For a moment it appeared as if the matter was done with and we could all return home, but Ra’meth suddenly pointed his rod at Shalla. ‘You. You duelled your brother without sanction or agreement.’ With increasing confidence he turned his fury back on my father. ‘This precocious little wretch of yours attacked an initiate who had only just completed a duel. This crime cannot be ignored. The girl must be counter-banded. Permanently.’
Shalla’s eyes went wide with terror. The very thought of what Ra’meth proposed – of my father being forced to burn counter sigils into her bands, forever denying her the ability to perform any magic whatsoever … For a moment I thought she might actually make a run for it.
My father looked pained. Ferius just laughed.
‘You find our laws funny, Daroman?’ Ra’fan asked, stepping forward to stand by his father’s side.
‘Nah, I just think it’s sweet how you’re all so worked up over Kellen’s well-being when a minute ago you wanted to arrest him. You’re quite the little troop of concerned citizens.
Ra’meth’s rod began to smoulder with shifting blue and red light so thick it was like watching twin snakes slithering around the shaft. ‘Watch your tongue, woman. You know nothing of Jan’Tep power.’
Ferius kept a hand on whatever it was she was holding inside her waistcoat pocket. She let out a smoky breath that filled the air between her and Ra’meth and set him to coughing. ‘I know that if you keep pointing that little stick of yours in my face you’re going to find it lodged somewhere mighty uncomfortable.’ Her lips kept their casual smile but her eyes looked deadly serious.
Ra’meth caught his breath and laughed. ‘Would you draw a weapon on me, Daroman? Would you do battle with a Jan’Tep lord magus? Say yes, I beg you, or simply nod and the duel is sanctioned.’
As if on cue, all three of Ra’meth’s sons lined up in front of us, raw magical force twisting and turning around their arms while their hands prepared the somatic forms for a range of assault spells.
I saw Shalla tense up next to me, then try to calm herself, hands at her sides, fingers twitching with her own spells. Ferius still had her hand inside her waistcoat, no doubt holding some kind of weapon. And me? I guess I can throw myself at them and hope it breaks someone’s concentration.
‘Have you lost your minds?’ my father demanded. ‘By the clan prince’s decree we are forbidden from feuding. He will see your entire house exiled for this!’
The threat of exile should have brought them to their senses, but it didn’t. Ra’fan and Ra’dir smirked. Tennat openly giggled. They looked like jackals grinning over wounded prey. They know something we don’t.
‘I suppose you’ve been distracted this night by the plight of your failed children,’ Ra’meth said. He nodded back towards the centre of the city. ‘How else could you have missed the lights above the palace?’
I looked back, past the homes and shops, all the way to the palace itself. Seven beams of coloured light, so pale they almost disappeared against the backdrop of stars, rose from the roof of the palace to meet the sky. I was too young by far to have ever seen the seven sacred lanterns lit, but even I knew what they meant: the clan prince was dead.
‘A tragedy,’ Ra’meth said, his tone making a lie of his words. ‘By tomorrow the council will open the election for the next clan prince. Naturally they’ll forbid any acts of vendetta between the great houses, but that is tomorrow. Tonight is for the kind of justice that is quickly forgotten once an election is called.
My father’s next words echoed through the street. ‘Enough!’ He stepped in front of Ra’meth. ‘You come at me like a shadow thief in the night with your accusations and your arrogance? Go home, Ra’meth. Make whatever complaints you wish to the council in the morning, or, if you are so determined to settle this matter here in the street like dogs fighting over a bone, then we have the means to do so. But it is me you will duel, Lord Magus, not my children and not this woman.’
For a moment Ra’meth looked genuinely worried by the cold, hard stare my father gave him. I thought he was about to walk away, but then he said, ‘My whole life I have watched you strut and stride among our people, Ke’heops. You act as if you are so much better than the rest of us, but for all your strength, you are only one man.’ Ra’meth nodded to his sons. ‘My blood is strong. Every one of my children carries the magic of our people in their veins. You have forgotten the wise words of our ancestors, Ke’heops: it is the house that matters, not the man.’
This is it, I realised. They’re going to attack. My father, powerful as he was, couldn’t hope to overcome Ra’meth and his sons by himself. Shalla had potential, but that wasn’t going to be enough against a lord magus, a chaincaster and a war mage. Do something, I told myself. Anything.
A light chuckle broke the silence. It came from Ferius. ‘A little free advice? Next time you’re planning an ambush, don’t give the other guy so much time to prepare.’ She took one last drag from her smoking reed before letting it fall to the ground and crushing it under the heel of her boot. She still had a hand inside her waistcoat.
‘Show us your little weapon then, woman,’ Ra’meth said. ‘You think a knife will save you?’
Ferius withdrew the hand and held it up for all to see.
It was empty.
‘Look, see?’ Tennat laughed. ‘She’s a fake, like Kellen. She doesn’t even have a weapon.’
She smiled, then blew the last of her smoke into the faces of Ra’meth and his sons. ‘Who needs a weapon?’ she asked, as the three of them began coughing even worse than before. It was only then that I realised how careful she’d been to always blow the smoke out towards them and not us. ‘Yeah, that stuff’s awful rough on the lungs the first few times. Gives you a terrible headache too.’ She turned to me. ‘Say, I don’t suppose you need to be able to speak and think clearly to cast spells, do you?’
Ra’fan, the skin on his face looking remarkably green, extended his right hand, middle two fingers bent in towards the heel of his palm and the outer two extended towards Ferius. ‘Medran’e’fe …’ The intonation of the spell was broken as he launched into a coughing fit. Ra’dir tried next, but barely got the first syllable out before he turned and vomited into the street.
Ferius looked down at the remains of her smoking reed on the ground. ‘I should give those up. Filthy habit really.’
Ra’meth drew in a deep breath, his eyes focused, expression calm. Like his sons, he looked ill from the smoke, but unlike them he had the strength and experience to resist its effects. Before he could open his mouth however, my father spoke, hands held out in front of him. His fingers didn’t twitch nor did his bands glow. My father never showed off. ‘Think before you speak, Ra’meth of the House of Ra, because in the next ten seconds I will use these hands either to carry my son home so that his mother can see to his injuries or to settle our dispute once and for all. The choice is yours.’
Ra’meth stiffened. He gave no more threats, no more demonstrations of power. My father had made it clear that there were only two choices. Without Ra’fan and Ra’dir to back him up, Ra’meth knew he couldn’t take my father. He signalled for them to leave, then turned to me. ‘You will receive no gold disc for your duel, boy. You will fail the other three trials as you failed the first. Then you will find yourself here among the Sha’Tep where you belong.’ He grabbed Tennat, who was still choking and gagging from the smoke, and turned to leave. ‘Where even your parents have always known you belong.’
The words were callous and cruel and I knew they were calculated to wound my father as much as me. Still, my heart would have sunk then had it not been for Ferius, who gave a little snort and punched my father in the arm. ‘All that magical posturing with glowing rods and mystical fireworks, and in the end you sent him packing with nothing more than a stern look. I see where the kid gets his nerve.’
I felt strangely proud of that.