Page 34 of Witchcraft and Fury (Chronicles of the Divided Isle #1)

A soldier stood guard at the gate, garbed in luxurious yellow and white robes that shimmered in the sun. He was of a lithe build, with dark brown skin and curly, dark hair. Solar had seen men like him come off ships that berthed at Queen’s Port and knew he must have come from the Arid Lands.

‘We would like to speak with the master of the house,’ said Cal haughtily.

‘Who calls?’ replied the guard, his words thick with a strong Aridian accent.

‘Sons of noble houses: House Roundtower, of mettle and stratagem; House Goldmont, of pride and riches; House Shadowmarsh, of stealth and cunning; House Kingsley, of honour and piety; House Humby, of wit and wisdom; and … a daughter of House Carpenter.’

‘Of little fame and less fortune,’ concluded Oswald, winking cheekily at Solar. She gave him a sharp kick in the shin.

‘The master is away, on a trading venture. He returns with the spring.’

‘And the lady?’

‘Not accustomed to visits from adolescents, from noble houses or not.’

Solar pushed to the front. ‘We’re here to discuss the disappearance of the lady’s daughter. We belong to a magic encampment and are helping search for her and the other missing townsfolk.’

The guard hesitated at the mention of ‘magic encampment’, then put his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. Another guard came running up from inside the grounds .

‘Stand watch whilst I take these magical students to see the mistress of the house,’ commanded the first guard. He returned his gaze to Solar. ‘You and your companions must leave your weapons here.’

The students grudgingly gave up their arms, grumbling and scowling, and were led through the gate.

Inside there was no lawn, but rather a series of paths crisscrossed through a great expanse of flowers.

Everything was in full bloom, as if it were summer rather than winter.

Here and there trees rose out of the bushes and flowerbeds, their branches drooping with fat fruit.

The air was thick with pollen and wonderful fragrances, and it seemed to Solar as if the garden hummed with magic.

The guard knocked on the great oak door of the house, and it was opened from the inside by a man in the same yellow and white robes.

The students made their way through the entrance hall, patterned rugs on flagstones and tapestries of deserts and camels draping every wall.

They skirted past a magnificent imperial staircase to a door that opened into a grand room with a high ceiling.

‘My lady,’ said the guard when he reached the door, peering into the interior. ‘A class of magical students is here to see you. They are investigating the disappearances in the city.’

‘Let them in, Kaeghlist,’ replied a female voice, its faint Aridian lilt just discernible.

Cal led the way inside. Plump cushions of deep reds, rich browns and sandy yellows surrounded a low table.

Underfoot lay an enormous rug of geometric patterns and floral swirls.

Doors opened onto a sweeping lawn lined with orange and lemon trees, their branches bowed with the weight of their fruit.

An icy sea breeze had swept the streets of Wolfport, but no winter chill entered the Faylseigh home .

On one of the cushions sat a woman with dark, curly hair cascading down past her shoulders. Tears had smudged her make-up. She clasped the hand of a tall boy beside her, a youth on the cusp of adulthood. Strain creased his brow.

‘Please, sit,’ said the woman, gesturing towards the other cushions around the table. ‘I am Lady Faylseigh. This is my son, Jacob. Forgive my appearance, you have come at a time when fate has revealed another cruel hand.’

‘We heard about the disappearance of your daughter, and we offer our condolences,’ said Cal with a courteous bow before lowering himself onto a russet cushion. ‘We come with Sir Gaderian Loveday, a member of King Algar’s Magic Circle. We are his students, and assisting him in finding the culprit.’

‘The king’s cousin,’ she stated, recognising the wizard’s famous name. ‘And where is Sir Gaderian now?’

‘He is busy currently, but my classmates and I are making some initial investigations. I know that it must be hard for you, but please could you tell us everything about the events leading up to your daughter’s disappearance?’

Lady Faylseigh looked hesitant at first, but then she spoke.

‘Well,’ she began, her voice quaking slightly, ‘it’s my fault really.

Yesterday afternoon Almaryia wanted to go to the food market in the centre of the city: she loves shopping for fresh vegetables and fish straight from the sea.

Normally I would send a couple of our household guards with her, to look after her.

Wolfport is a wealthy city, but by no means safe.

There are slavers aplenty working here, goblins and worse. ’

‘And why didn’t you send the guards with her this time, if you don’t mind my asking?’ said Cal.

‘Our family business had a ship full of precious spices from the Arid Lands due to arrive at port yesterday,’ she said, her voice cracking.

‘I … I ordered all the guards to receive the ca rgo and take it to our warehouse, so I sent Jacob to accompany Almaryia instead, but … but … he’s really only a boy still.

’ She broke into sobs. ‘What kind of mother am I,’ she said, head in her hands, ‘to value cinnamon and saffron more than my own daughter?’

‘Lady Faylseigh, please. What happened next? How did Almaryia disappear?’ Cal pressed.

Lady Faylseigh replied through sobs, and Jacob bit his lip and clutched his mother’s hand until his knuckles turned white.

‘As they came back from market a band of hooded figures, a dozen at least, jumped out from an alley and snatched my Almaryia. Brave Jacob tried to stop them, but … but they knocked him out with a punch and … and left him in the dirt. Jacob thinks they were slavers, but I’m sure he’s mistaken. ’

As Lady Faylseigh and Cal talked, Solar observed the mother and son together.

I wonder why Jacob isn’t doing the talking , she mused, when he was the one who actually saw the so-called slavers?

She watched his eyes dart around the room, avoiding her and the other students.

She suspected that he had lied to his mother about how his sister had disappeared, and she felt her heart hammer against her chest when she realised that there was a way to cut to the truth.

She fixed Jacob with a stare and prepared to reach out with her mind. But what Lady Faylseigh said next shattered her concentration.

‘As a woman of considerable magical training and experience, I was determined to get to the bottom of this right away. Almaryia is not the first adolescent her age to have disappeared recently – not nearly so. Slavers do not care if a person is exactly seventeen, as all the victims are, and nor could they divine a victim’s age with certainty. The whole thing reeks of magic. ’

‘You’re a … a …’ fumbled Bear.

‘Of course I’m a witch!’ Lady Faylseigh said impatiently. ‘And don’t look so alarmed, the lot of you. You’re clearly not new to the concept of women being able to wield magic without killing everyone within a mile’s radius.’ She looked significantly at Solar.

The boys all relaxed visibly.

Solar had a thousand questions in her mind competing for her attention, and eventually one won out. ‘But how are you allowed to …’ she began, but Cal spoke at exactly the same moment.

‘My lady, if you’re a witch, why don’t you search for your daughter yourself?’

‘I come from the Arid Lands. I broke no laws of Ashwood in practising magic there.

But now that I am here, I am forced to refrain from exercising my powers.

The captain of the city watch, Captain Barker, even visited me once the disappearances started.

He warned me not to use magic to try and find them, or get involved at all, upon pain of death.

He told me he would send for a royal magic encampment to handle things.

‘You may be operating under the protection of Gaderian Loveday, young girl,’ she said, addressing Solar directly, ‘but you’d be well advised to steer clear of Barker and his men. I wouldn’t put it past them to strike first, if they see you practising magic, rather than bringing you to trial.’

‘If you were allowed to investigate your daughter’s disappearance, where would you start?’ Cal asked.

‘I would start by speaking with the family of the very first victim, the first seventeen-year-old to have gone missing.’

‘Who are they? Where can we find their family?’ For the first time, Cal’s collected, wizardly demeanour faltered as he leaned towards Lady Faylseigh, urgency in his voice .

‘If I could tell you, I would. Rumour has it that the first disappearances were all from the low town. The workers’ districts and the like.

But as a wealthy foreigner, I am somewhat removed from that part of …

society. It’s the kind of rough, lawless place where, even without magical interference, disappearances happen every other day.

Identifying the first such victim will be like searching for a ring in a dragon’s hoard. But still, it’s where I would start.’

Jacob had by now released his mother’s hand and was wringing his own between his legs, his jaw clenched.

With Lady Faylseigh’s lead of heading to the workers’ districts, Solar had been contemplating abandoning her attempt to mind raid. But it was a poor lead, as admitted by Lady Faylseigh herself. And there was something very peculiar about the way Jacob was acting.

What if he was withholding information from his mother? What if he knew something that could give them a head start?

In the instant before their consciousnesses collided, she tasted his confusion, distress and … guilt . And then she was in his mind, watching the whole scene play out as it had really happened.

Jacob and Almaryia were walking back together from the market, their arms laden with vegetables, prawns, garlic, ginger and more.

They had spent the morning enjoying bartering with stall vendors, eyeing up produce from faraway lands and gossiping about the cooks, maids and guards who worked for their parents.

Almaryia was laughing at some joke Jacob had made about the head chef, a stern fellow who never cracked a smile.

As they rounded the final corner before their house, they heard a low moaning coming from a dark alleyway.

Jacob held out his hand to signal Almaryia to come to a stop.

Together, they approached the alleyway. There was an unnatural gloom and a smell of rotten meat.

Then, as their eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, they made out the figure of an adolescent boy.

His skin was a deathly pale. His clothes hung off him in filthy rags.

A grimy leather patch, shaped like a splayed cow’s hide and engraved with a representation of a tanner’s knife, adorned a slightly less tattered section of his tunic.

He looked stunted and frail, but his eyes were as black as night and emanated a power that rooted the siblings to the spot.

Then he held out a ghostly white hand and seized Almaryia by the wrist.

She screamed for Jacob to help her and struggled with all her might to escape the boy’s grasp, but he was stronger than he looked and dragged her off into the darkness. Jacob was left standing at the entrance of the alleyway, paralysed with an inexplicable fear.

A hot flush of sickening shame spreading throughout his body, he turned tail and ran for home, his sister’s scream continuing to reverberate around his skull long after he was out of earshot. A single word repeated itself again and again inside his head: ‘Craven. Craven. Craven.’

Solar came out of Jacob’s mind and saw him staring at her with disgust. He knows I’ve been inside his mind , she realised immediately. ‘Witch!’ the boy snarled. He leapt to his feet and stormed out of the room. They heard his footsteps thump up the stairs.

‘Forgive my son,’ said Lady Faylseigh, startled. ‘He has gone through a lot.’

‘Lady Faylseigh, thank you for your time. I think we have learned everything we can from you. We will let you know when we have made progress in recovering your daughter. We can show ourselves out,’ said Cal.