Page 41 of Witchcraft and Fury (Chronicles of the Divided Isle #1)

CAL’S TALE

Trainee magicians must excel in four magical missions before carving a staff for themselves.

This has been the way since King Campion the Austere’s time.

Their training is often followed with great interest by the king and certain members of his court.

Just as magicians fashion staffs, so might politicians in turn fashion the staff bearer into a powerful tool for their own use.

Outside the city Loveday insisted that they keep riding throughout the night and the entirety of the next day. They were now heading directly for Riverhawk, the capital.

When they finally made camp that evening it was atop a hill that Loveday said would be easy to defend should the goblins come for them.

Bear muttered darkly something about not wanting to sully his honour fighting for a gambler.

Fortunately, Loveday did not hear. The wizard ordered that three of them should remain on watch at all times, provoking a chorus of groans from the students.

Before turning in for the night, they sat round the fire and chewed exhaustedly on roast pheasant that Pingot had prepared. The students talked amongst themselves, and Loveday and Binns ate in silence, staring into the flames.

Finally, their instructors made for bed, and Pingot, Oswald and Wyman followed suit, leaving Solar, Bear and Cal to take the first watch together.

Too exhausted to talk, they sat in silence, each facing in different directions out into the night. After some time, they heard loud snores emanating from Binns’ tent.

‘You’re not going to be able to fight off the goblins pursuing you if you’re all sleep-deprived,’ said a quiet voice from near the fire, its accent a gentle, exotic lilt.

The three of them leapt up from their seats and whirled around to face the intruder, hands moving for their swords.

They paused in confusion when they saw who it was.

Lady Faylseigh stood before them, and with her was an adolescent girl. The latter shared Lady Faylseigh’s dark curls, and Solar guessed she was her daughter, Almaryia.

‘I have sought you out,’ continued Lady Faylseigh, before any of them had collected their wits sufficiently to speak, ‘to offer my thanks to those who saved my daughter.’

‘We were only doing our duty, though we appreciate your thanks,’ said Cal cautiously, fingers still on his sword hilt. ‘How did you get past us?’

‘Though I do not flaunt my magic before the city watch, I have made no effort to keep it hidden from you,’ she replied enigmatically.

‘But I bring more than just words of gratitude for what you have done for my family and adopted city. For you, Cal, leader of the expedition, I gift a dragonfly from my homeland. Should your own eyes and ears ever fail you, look to it for aid.’

She pressed a small box into Cal’s free palm.

Curiosity getting the better of him, and perhaps feeling the same trust for Lady Faylseigh that Solar herself could not help but feel, he finally relaxed his hand from his hilt.

He opened the box, and a dragonfly, vivid red in colour, flew out.

It completed a lap around the fire before returning to the box.

‘An Immortal Dragonfly, so-called due to its extraordinarily long lifespan, shares whatever it hears and sees with its magician master.’

‘I don’t understand. How do I use it?’ asked Cal, but Lady Faylseigh continued over him.

‘For Solar Carpenter, Ashwood’s first witch-trainee for a century, I bring a greater gift still.

Where I come from witches and wizards are equals, and together with the crown they sustain and rule our ancient land with the twin sceptres of justice and wisdom.

The witches and wizards of the people’s Magic Circle travel the country, using their powers with judgement and consideration wherever they go. ’

From a sack Lady Faylseigh withdrew a bundle of fabric, which she unfurled into a rectangular carpet of dazzling beauty.

The outer border was a sea of deep blue, punctuated by glides of flying fish and pods of dolphins.

Set within was an immense circle, the rim of which just brushed the blue sea at the very middle of the carpet’s two longer edges.

Where the circle did not meet the sea, the space between was taken up by an expanse of sandy yellow, broken here and there by flocks of birds, dunes speckled with green and colourful oases where antelopes, elephants and lions drank in peace and harmony.

And yet it was that depicted within the circle which was most beautiful.

Scenes of everyday life were shown there.

Men and women harvested bountiful crops from their fields, marketplaces overflowed with plump, ripe fruits of every variety, great camel trains traversed valleys and deserts, priests helped the sick and soldiers cared for the homeless.

In every scene there was a witch and wizard, hand in hand, solving the problems of the people with impartiality and wisdom.

‘It’s wonderful,’ Solar said fervently, knowing the words did not do the gift justice.

‘There are but a few like it in this world,’ replied Lady Faylseigh. ‘I know that you will look after it.’

Cal then asked further questions about how to use his dragonfly, and Lady Faylseigh answered earnestly and politely, but as she spoke Solar also heard Lady Faylseigh’s voice inside her own head, magnified many times, speaking only to her: Solar Carpenter, do not trust the wizard!

Solar started. Her heart pounded as she stared at Lady Faylseigh, who was continuing to speak out loud to Cal and Bear. How are you inside my head? Solar thought to herself, somehow knowing that Lady Faylseigh would hear.

You know how , came the response that only Solar could hear, quieter now, though Lady Faylseigh did not stop speaking to the others or even pause to look her way. Mind roosting.

But … but mind roosting is an extremely advanced skill, mastered only after mind raiding , protested Solar.

And you have already mastered mind raiding, have you not? Didn’t you raid the mind of my son, Jacob?

Yes … but Jacob detected me!

You’re a natural at roosting if ever there was one.

You’re a low-born girl studying with aristocratic wizards.

Every day you occupy the shoes and minds of others.

Of course the various skills of the mind come naturally to you.

But Solar, listen! We have more important things to discuss.

Do not trust the wizard! He is not your friend!

What? Why? He’s my instructor. He enrolled me into his encampment .

He looks at you like a wolf eyeing its prey. I have seen it myself, using a dragonfly of my own. Don’t tell me you have not had your own suspicions?

No, I haven’t , replied Solar immediately, but then she thought back to the conversation she had observed between Loveday and Bayen in the forest. I mean … yes, perhaps, at times. But calling me his ‘prey’ is a little strong, isn’t it?

I don’t think so, but there is a way to find out for sure. Raid his mind, Solar! Find out what his plans for you are!

I can’t! If Jacob detected me then Loveday definitely will!

My son only noticed you because it was your first time attempting to mind raid undetected – am I right?

You entered his mind cautiously but left carelessly and in haste.

You can fix such a mistake, and Loveday is so confident of his own exceptional mind control that he would not dream you would dare something as audacious as stealing into his mind.

Use this and your own natural skill to your advantage.

But—

Solar, please!

I—

‘Look after yourself, Miss Carpenter,’ Lady Faylseigh said out loud. ‘You bring me great hope.’

Lady Faylseigh and her daughter walked between Solar and Bear, heading back to Wolfport.

Wait! called Solar, reaching out with her mind.

But there was no reply.

*

Solar got little sleep once she had completed her watch, Lady Faylseigh’s warning reverberating round her head as she tossed and turned in her furs.

It was yet another reason to doubt Loveday, to be suspicious of his motives, even to question the very safety of her traineeship at his encampment.

But the next morning, as she ate her breakfast bleary-eyed, she couldn’t summon the courage to raid his mind and uncover the truth.

If she got caught then she would certainly be expelled – or, if Lady Faylseigh was right, she might even find herself in danger.

She watched as Pingot fried a second batch of wild boar sausages over the fire but declined when he offered her some, her appetite dulled.

Loveday was just accepting the addition of a couple of sausages to his trencher when his posture changed abruptly, sitting up straight and raising his head, eyes alert. ‘Quiet!’ he said to the camp at large.

They heard hoofbeats from within the trees approaching the camp, then a rider urge his horse into a gallop with a fierce yell.

‘Swords!’ commanded Loveday, drawing his own and leaping to his feet. ‘Backs to the fire, in a circle, all of you, now!’

Within seconds the camp was up. Eight naked blades surrounded the fire, bright steel flashing in the morning sun.

‘If anyone runs, I’ll flog you myself,’ said Binns. His snarl was reassuringly menacing, and Wyman edged closer to him. ‘Hold your position, boy!’ spat the master-at-arms.

The rider emerged from the trees and came to an abrupt halt outside the circle of tents. The horse snorted and stamped.

‘Name yourself!’ shouted Binns. ‘If you’ve come thieving, you’ve picked the wrong party.’

‘My name is Eamon. I have a message for Sir Gaderian Loveday,’ said the rider, his voice strained and tired. ‘I bring news of his brother, Lord Aiken Loveday, and have ridden almost without rest to find you. I am, or rather I was, a member of his personal guard. ’

‘Approach, but on foot,’ ordered Loveday warily.