Part 28 (1/2)
”Spellcasting is untrustworthy for the untrained.”
”Like handling a blade?”
”It is more dangerous, from what I have seen.” Jecks leaned back slightly in the straight-backed chair and steepled his fingers together. ”Once, I'd not have, said that. Now ...” he shrugged.
”Now?”
”Bajim's forces fell to sorcery, and so did those of the Evult's.” Jecks' brow furrowed. ”What do you plan?”
”To see what the mirror will show me. I have an idea.”
Jecks nodded and sat back, as if to wait.
Anna took a deep breath, then ran through one vocalise, then another. Her voice wasn't as clear as it should have been. Allergies from the rain and the mold that had to infest the ancient pile of bricks that was Synfal?
She cleared her throat and tried again. Finally, she picked up the lutar, then stopped at the quizzical expression on Jecks' face. 'You don't see this in public, all the time it takes sometimes to be able to sing.”
”I have seen you cast spells...”
”Without all the preparation?” Anna nodded. ”Half the time I'm afraid they won't work when that happens. Sometimes they don't. That's how I ended up defending myself with a knife,” She s.h.i.+vered as she recalled how she'd gutted the poor young armsman whose only real fault had been following the orders of the wrong person.
Jecks offered a half-nod, turning in the chair to be able to see the mirror.
Anna turned to the dark wood framed mirror on the yellowed plaster of the wall. Her cleaning spell had not been enough to return the plaster to any semblance of white, a.s.suming it had ever been white.
”Mirror, mirror on the wall, show me now Lord Dencer's hall.
Within its gates, Wendella show me fast and make that spell well last...”
In the silvered oblong on the wall was an image of a brown-haired woman. She sat, alone, almost slumped at a table in what appeared to be a tower room. Her hair was braided, but she turned and appeared to look at Anna and Jecks. The red eyes were sunken in dark circles. Those, and the barred window, told Anna enough.
After a moment, the sorceress released the image with a quick couplet, almost a chant. A moment of dizziness followed, but the lightheadedness vanished almost as swiftly as it had struck.
”You asked to see her, not Dencer.”
”I had a feeling.” What Anna had felt was that Wendella's situation would reveal more than seeing Dencer. Had it? She wasn't sure.
”Better that she had remained in Falcor,” said Jecks, leaning forward in the chair. ”Dencer fears you have suborned her.”
”That's not likely. She hates me.”
”He fears your sorcery.
”He fears any woman who will stand up to him.” Anna took another swallow of water and forced herself to eat the last roll. ”Why do so many men fear women here?”
Jecks cleared his throat.
Anna waited.
”There have always been more sorcerers than sorceresses.” The white-haired lord coughed.
Anna let the silence continue.
”The sorceresses have always been more powerful. The Evult... he was perhaps the greatest sorcerer ever-and you destroyed him.” Jecks forced his eyes to meet Anna's. ”All know you have yet to claim fully the power that is yours.
”I've almost been killed twice, and newly killed myself more than that,” Anna pointed out.
”No one else would have survived the smallest portion of your travail.” Jecks gave a strained smile. ”Do you wonder that Dencer, or the Sea-Priests, or Konsstin, all fear you?”
'”I've never been out to build an empire. All I've tried to do is to preserve Defalk.”
”When folk hate, they do not think,” mused Jecks. ”That is why a thinking warrior, if he can survive the first few moments against a madman, will triumph.”
”If there are enough madmen,” suggested Anna, ”like the dark ones...”
”Then there is no time to think.”
”Great.” Anna set down the lutar, realizing that it felt heavy, too heavy. ”I need to eat-again. So do you.” She looked at Jecks.
After a moment, he returned the smile, boyishly. despite his white hair, and Anna almost wanted to hug him. For that instant, the warrior lord was a cross between a teddy bear and a movie star.
”I could use some food,” he admitted gruffly. ”Not so much as a certain sorceress.”
Anna walked to the door and opened it.
Fhurgen stood there, waiting.
”If you would, Fhurgen, could you have Captain Alvar join us here? And see if you can get someone to put together a platter with enough food for the three of us.” She didn't want to try another spell without eating. ”Don't you do it, either. Have the kitchen handle it.'' She flashed a smile, trying to convey warmth.
”We can manage that, Lady Anna.” Fhurgen's dark eyes twinkled for a moment.
”Thank you.” Anna closed the door and walked to the window to join Jecks. They both watched the rain, falling less forcefully, and more like a cold mist. She could sense just how close he was, and she started to reach out. No... you can't muddy things. Play like the virgin queen. But she was all too conscious that she didn't want to be a virgin queen or regent-not in the slightest.
She stepped back and sideways to look at the mirror on the wall. The finish of the ebony wood around the gla.s.s showed bubbles and discoloration. Then she recovered the lutar. ”I'll try one more while we're waiting for Alvar and food.”
Jecks turned so that he could watch the mirror.
Anna re-tuned before she sang the mirror spell.
”Mirror, mirror, on the wall, show me now Lord Sargol's hall, Within its gates, show Lord Sargol fast, and make that spell well last...”
The mirror swirled white, then blanked.
Anna frowned, then she shook her head. The way she'd composed the spell wouldn't allow showing Sargol if he weren't in his hall.
She lowered the lutar. How could she change it? It took several attempts with the grease marker before she had something. After humming through the tune to fix the new words, she looked at Jecks.
”It's not as easy as it looks to outsiders.” Then she lifted the lutar.
”Mirror, mirror, in your frame, show me Lord Sargol in his fame, Where'er he may ride or be, show him now to me...”