Emperor Mage

‘Giant, water-swimming, vicious lizards,’ replied the prince.

Daine counted to three, then said politely, ‘There’s few animals that’re “vicious” by nature, if you’ll forgive my saying so. Usually there’s a good reason for them acting nasty – like you’re stepping in their nests, or you’re stealing their food.’

Food, agreed a low voice in her mind. Hungry, commented another. A third voice added, Waiting for food.

‘Like all females, you are sentimental about animals,’ the prince replied, his tone superior. ‘If you had a croc after you in the water, you wouldn’t be so quick to stand up for them.’

‘They came after you personally?’ She couldn’t see this painted fellow doing anything that might wrinkle his clothes.

‘Well, no, but everyone says they do.’

Someday I must read this scholar Everyone, she thought as she bit her tongue to keep from giving a rude answer. He seems to have written so much – all of it wrong.

She called to the crocodiles again. I’m Daine, she told the great creatures. I come from the North.

You are odd, replied the one who had spoken last. You smell of frozen water and too many trees. Do not scold that two-legger. If he enters our water, we will eat him gladly.

A private boat, brightly painted, floated by. A man in a low-backed chair read under a canopy; a slave chased a boy who ran with something that struggled in his arms. Cornering the child at the rail, the slave tried to make him release his prize. The child leaned away. Suddenly he screeched. His arms flew open, and his captive tumbled into the water.

‘If you can’t hold on to pets, you don’t deserve to have any,’ scolded the slave. The child screamed as she dragged him away without another look at the animal in the river. The crocodiles did not share her disinterest. They slid into the water from their riverbank.

‘No, don’t!’ Daine cried to them aloud, forgetting her com-panion. ‘Let it be!’

Hungry, said a voice. Food is food.

It will die anyway, replied the one who spoke the most. Look at it.

The crocodile was right. The tiny creature, whatever it was, couldn’t swim. It fought to stay up, but the current dragged on its fur and limbs.

Stripping off her boots, Daine jumped over the rail and into the river. Swimming against the current, she struck out for the drowning animal. Please stop, she told the crocodiles silently. It isn’t more than a mouthful! One last pump of her arms, and she had reached the sufferer.

I hope you do not interfere in too many meals, remarked the talkative crocodile as the reptiles swam off. We do not have enough food as it is.

I’ll try not to, Daine promised. Treading water, she pumped liquid from the pet’s lungs. He gasped. ‘Shh,’ she said. ‘It’s all right. I’ve got you.’ He was a monkey, tiny enough to sit on her palm, with huge grey-green eyes. Around his neck was a jewelled collar. ‘No wonder you couldn’t swim.’ She unbuckled the thing and let it fall. ‘That was probably too heavy dry, let alone wet.’

Black, sparkling fire yanked them from the river and pulled them through the air. Daine soothed the frantic monkey until Numair’s magic deposited them on the deck of the imperial barge.

The Carthakis, from prince to slaves, gaped at her and her new friend. Kitten began to scold as Daine blushed. Muddy water formed a pool on the polished deck; her hair dripped. Her linen and silk were ruined. Someone – a female – giggled. A man snorted. Daine glanced at Duke Gareth and saw that he had covered his face with one hand as his son’s broad shoulders quivered with suppressed laughter. More than anything at the moment, she wished she had the power simply to vanish.

They went from their quarters to the women guests’ baths soon after their arrival, to Daine’s relief. Not only was she able to wash, but maids brought a basin and extra mild soap so that she could bathe her new friend. They even gave her towels for him. She dried him quickly there, then returned with him and Kitten to her room to do a more thorough job.

She used the work to get acquainted with this odd creature. Lindhall had called him a pygmy marmoset. Imported from the Copper Isles, he’d been the pet of the child he called the Monsterboy, the one who had let him fall into the river. His fur was strange – a mix of yellow, brown, grey, and olive green, which looked as if it might turn its wearer invisible in a proper forest. The marmoset gave his name, but it was in whistles and clucks, impossible for her to pronounce. She asked if he would mind if she called him Zekoi, or Zek, after the river she had taken him from. He seemed quite taken with that, even trying to pronounce it on his own.

Finished with Zek’s grooming, Daine got to her feet. ‘I need to change,’ she told the marmoset when he clung to her. ‘Hold on to Kitten.’ Zek eyed the dragon with misgiving. Kitten chirped, and offered her forepaw. He clutched it and watched Daine’s every movement.

Drawing on a shift, the girl surveyed her room. It was simple, elegant, and costly. Walls, floor, and ceiling were polished marble. Carved cedar window screens gave off their famous scent. The bed was delicately carved, the sheets fine cotton. Over it lay a silk eiderdown in autumn colours. The clean, sweet-scented privy lay off in a small dressing room. That chamber, a few feet from the bed, was furnished with a table and matching chair, a long mirror, and a number of tiny jars that held various cosmetics, salves, and perfumes.

There was but one feature she disliked – a tiger-skin rug. Its jaws were open in a snarl; yellow glass eyes glared at the world. ‘I have to ask them to move this,’ she told her audience. ‘I can’t sleep with it here.’ Kneeling, Daine touched it sadly. She had seen tigers in the king’s menagerie. They were magnificent cats, and she preferred the ones whose skin was still attached.

Her palms felt hot, itchy. Suddenly they pulsed. White fire spilled from her hands onto the tiger. Slowly the eyelids fell, and rose again. The jaw relaxed; the great mouth closed.

She thrust herself away so quickly that she fell over. ‘Did you see that?’ she demanded of Kitten and Zek. ‘What was it?’ Both stared at her, plainly as bewildered as she was.

Although she waited, the skin did not move again. Using a long-handled brush, she shoved it under her bed, poking it repeatedly to keep any part from sticking out. At last it was securely tucked away, and she could dress.

CHAPTER 2 (#ulink_59f95450-9a7d-579a-ac25-b9c37199c06c)

IMPERIAL WELCOME (#ulink_59f95450-9a7d-579a-ac25-b9c37199c06c)

Some hours later, Daine looked round the antechamber to the throne room with awe. Kitten did the same. The marmoset Zek, who had refused to stay behind, observed everything from his hiding place under her hair, at the back of her neck.

There was much to stare at. The room was filled with nobles and mages dressed in their finest. Shaved-headed slaves were everywhere, offering food, drinks, flower garlands, and feathered or jewelled fans. Huge screens had been pushed back to reveal a broad terrace and gardens. Light came from large globes hung by chains from the ceiling. As the sky darkened, the globes shone brighter.

‘How do the lamps keep burning?’ Daine asked.

‘Magic.’ The speaker was Harailt of Aili, dean of magical studies at the royal university in Tortall. He was a stocky, round-faced man with an endless supply of jokes. Stuck in his outer room, waiting to bow to the emperor, Daine had been grateful for each and every jest. ‘Numair, why didn’t you tell us about this light-spell?’ Harailt asked. ‘To have steady, strong illumination—’

Numair looked up. ‘They didn’t have it when I was here,’ he said absently. ‘They did something with glass balls, but they faded after a short time. These aren’t glass.’

‘The globes are filled with crystals,’ Lindhall Reed explained. ‘Remind me and I’ll have one of the craft mages explain it for you.’ Seeing the door to the emperor’s audience chamber open, he added, ‘You’ll be all right, Arra – I’m sorry – Numair?’

The younger mage smiled. ‘I have to be, don’t I?’ As a page beckoned their group forwards, he took a deep breath. ‘Here we go, into the presence of the one and only Emperor Mage. Huzza.’

The Tortallans entered the imperial audience chamber, Daine, Zek, and Kitten at the back of the company with the clerks. The admiring looks of that group of young men told Daine that not only had she been wise to wear this twilight-blue silk gown, but that she had done well to accept the royal gift of a wardrobe for this trip. ‘You go as a representative of the Crown, just like the ambassadors,’ Queen Thayet had said, hazel eyes smiling. ‘My lord and I insist. Trust me: there is nothing like a good appearance to give a woman confidence.’ The queen had been right. It was hard to feel insignificant in a gown that whispered as she moved and winked with silver embroidery.

Introduced by a herald, Duke Gareth gave his speech to the emperor, announcing their desire to meet Carthak halfway and their hopes for a lasting peace. He then presented gifts from the king and queen to the emperor. As he spoke, Daine studied the ruler of Carthak, who sat on a tall throne before them, flanked by his ministers and nobles.

She had never heard of him until two-and-a-half years ago, when she had come from Galla to Tortall after her mother’s death. Now she knew him all too well. Most Tortallans believed it was this emperor who had managed to break the walls between Mortal and Divine Realms on frequent occasions, turning loose the creatures known as immortals to prey upon Carthak’s enemies. Daine herself, working with Numair a year ago, had found evidence that Ozorne was helping to plan a rebellion against the rulers of Tortall. When the monarchs of the other Eastern Lands, those countries north of the Inland Sea, had learned of Emperor Ozorne’s plot against one of them, they had united. The threat of the entire northern continent going to war against the southern one had caused Emperor Ozorne to back down, and to open peace talks with Tortall.

Her first sight of the infamous Emperor Mage filled her with awe. She had thought the prince was fine, but he was a barnyard rooster to his uncle’s peacock. Gold frosted Ozorne’s hair; gold beads hung from a wealth of thin braids. Gold paint shimmered on lips, brows, even his eyelashes. Gold rings marched up the curve of each ear; a diamond hung from his left earlobe. His neck was ringed with six rows of deep-blue stones that sparked with many-coloured fires: black opals, expensive stones prized because they could hold magical power. Beneath them he wore the calf-length, short-sleeved robe of his people in heavy gold brocade. Looped at his right hip and passing over his left shoulder was a crimson drape. The long end of the cloth was linked to the emperor’s left wrist by a gold bracelet. Each finger sported a ring. His sandals were gilded. Like the prince, he wore toe rings, and added to them ankle bracelets.

She’d heard of Carthak’s wealth and power, but it was one matter to hear such things, another to see one man decked out like an idol in gold and gems.

Duke Gareth had finished. Now the line of Tortallans started forwards as Duke Gareth gave their names, each bowing to the emperor as they were presented. Watching them, Daine felt a rush of pride. Carthak might be proud and great, but Tortall had sent wise and famous people to work out a peace settlement. Alanna the Lioness was a legend in the Eastern and Southern Lands, one the Carthakis couldn’t match; and as far as Daine was concerned, Numair was the fish their hosts had allowed to get away.

At last her name and Kitten’s were called. Taking a deep breath, Daine walked up to the first step of the dais on which the throne stood, and curtsied, spreading her blue skirts at her sides. The queen had worked on the movement with her for hours, and she was glad to do her teacher proud. Kitten walked up the steps, halting only when she reached the emperor’s feet.

‘Greetings, dragon child. This is a pleasure.’ He reached down. Kitten sniffed his fingers, and sneezed. Grasping his hand with her forepaws, she examined the gems on his rings with interest. ‘And you are her keeper?’ enquired the emperor. ‘The one who is also a healer of animals?’

She didn’t like that word, keeper, but she nodded. Lord Martin cleared his throat, and she realized she was supposed to answer the ruler of Carthak. ‘I take care of her, Your Imperial Majesty. And I have wild magic with animals of all kinds.’

‘How was she taken, your dragon? A trap, or a pit? A net?’

Daine swallowed. Traps or snares for Kitten? ‘I don’t think you understand our relationship, Your Imperial Majesty. I’m not a keeper; I didn’t take her. Kit’s – Kitten’s – ma died to protect my friends and me. She left Kitten to my care.’

‘Indeed?’ He looked at her with curious amber eyes. ‘It is true, then. You are able to commune with the immortals.’

‘The ones like animals, sire. The griffins, and winged horses. Dragons. The ones that are part human, no.’ She made a face. ‘They can communicate without my help.’