The moment she did, a golden glow enveloped the instrument. Tariel quickly used her body to shield it from the window, and drew the drapes across just in time for Zolotais to rise from the abacus. The golden energy coalesced into the form of a woman with delicate features and fiery orbs for eyes. Her hair was bound up in a turban, her curvy form wrapped in a loose, flowing robe that flickered as shemoved.
“Well, well.” Zolotais’s generous lips curved. “Have you finally come to face your destiny, littlemage?”
Tariel flinched. “I don’t know about any destiny,” she said, spreading her hands wide, “but I need your help. Lady Tyrook means to marry me off to a terrible man who has threatened to have me burned at the stake if Irefuse.”
“Then leave,” Zolotais said simply. “It is past time for you to be rid of these stodgy Fjordlanders. You were never meant for this land,Tariel.”
“But how?” Tariel pushed a hand through her long hair, her fingernails scraping her scalp. “I will not get very far as a lone woman, and especially not one who looks like a Maroyan witch, not while witch hunters are roaming the countryside so eagerly. And where would Igo?”
“Stop calling yourself a witch,” Zolotais said impatiently. “That term is reserved for those who practice black magic, which is most certainly not the case with you, considering you barely practice magic atall.”
“Mage,” Tariel repeated, testing out the word. It was hard not to think of herself as a witch, as she had been conditioned to think of all magic users as witches. But Zolotais was right. If she was to embrace her magic, she must leave behind all negative connotations surroundingit.
“You’ll go to the Empire,” Zolotais continued on, as if that were obvious. She was referring to the Maroyan Empire, where magic was practiced openly. Zolotais was a desert spirit whose purpose was to teach writing, arithmetic, languages, and other scholarly lessons to Maroyan children. She also had quite a treasure trove of exotic tales, and had told her all about the strange, faraway land in the south, where women were revered, magic was practiced openly, and mages were prized above all else. “And you can use your magic to disguise your looks. If you are afraid of traveling alone, then take a man or two along. It shouldn’t be hard to find them in thiscastle.”
Tariel frowned thoughtfully at that. “I do have a male friend or two,” she said, thinking of Calrain and Riann. “But I could never ask them to do something so reckless. They would have to throw away everything they’ve worked so hard for, and they will be burned at the stake if they are caught! It will ruin theirlives.”
“Do not sell yourself so short,” Zolotais scoffed. “Becoming part of a mage’s harem is considered a great honor, and affords many benefits to your paramours. If you do the ritual we spoke of with them, you may have magic enough to protect and disguise your group. If you take the fastest horses, and bespell the others so that they will be sluggish for a few days, you will get a decent head start, and perhaps make it to the Carlissian border before your pursuers catchup.”
The ritual,Tariel thought, her stomach plummeting. She knew exactly which ritual Zolotais spoke of. Before they had their falling out, Zolotais had been teaching her about magic and what Maroyan mages were capable of. Tariel knew she had to be descended from one, though her blue eyes told her she was part Fjordlander too. At the time, she had been eager to learn more about her ancestry, and about how to manipulate her limited magic. But Zolotais had explained to her that the only way to unlock a Maroyan mage’s magic was through a ritual that involved having sex with two or more men, and as a young woman brought up in the strict Roisen faith, where women were taught that their worth depended on their virginity, Tariel could not stomach the thought. The two had quarreled for a long time, and Tariel ended up shunning Zolotais completely, convinced the desert spirit’s teachings would bring her nothing buttragedy.
And yet, what did she have to look forward to now but tragedy? Her virginity was no longer hers to hold onto—Lord Sowell would take it in a few days. If sacrificing it would give her the power to escape her oppressors, she was more than happy to give itup.
Besides, Riann and Calrain were handsome enough to look upon, and she was certain she would find much more enjoyment in bed with them than she would with the loathsome Lord Sowell. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered her encounter with Riann in the garden a few years ago. Marilla had taunted her fiercely that day, and the two of them had wound up in a brawl that ended with Tariel receiving a whipping. She’d gone to the garden for a moment alone, to lick her wounds amongst the fragrant blossoms, when Riann had come upon her. He had asked no questions of her, and as she’d curled up in his strong embrace, the desire for more had unfurled insideher.
She’d stopped herself from taking things too far that day, for fear of reprisal. Would Riann still want her, after she had rejected him not once, but twice now? And what of Calrain? She knew he fancied her, but as an apprentice preparing to take his vows to the Brotherhood, he had already committed himself to a life of chastity. Tariel had never pursued anything more than friendship with him, not wanting to get in the way of the path he had chosen. Butnow…
“If these men are truly your friends, you should give them the chance to decide whether or not to help you,” Zolotais said, gentling her voice. “It is quite a risk, but if you use your natural feminine allure, you may convince them tocooperate.”
Tariel bit her lip. “I’ll have to tell them the truth about what I am,” she said. “There is a chance they will recoil and denounce me.” In fact, she would be very surprised if they did not. They had been raised the same way she had, brought up to fear and loathe witches. Getting them to overcome a lifetime of prejudice to help her was going to bedifficult.
But then again, what other option did she have than to put her hope in them? Regardless of what decision she made, she would likely end up burning at the stake anyway. At least this way, she could say she tried to make a bid forfreedom.
“All right,” she said grimly, taking a seat behind the desk. She pulled out a sheet of paper, a quill, and a bottle of ink, and began to write the note that would seal herfate.
9
Calrain was just aboutto turn in for the night when he heard the sound of paper scratching againststone.
He turned around just in time to see a note slip beneath the door. Soft footsteps pattered away, and he hurried to the door and flung it open. Whoever had left the note was long gone, but he caught just a hint of lilacs and sunshine in the air outside—a scent he would recognizeanywhere.
Tariel?
Heart hammering, he bent down to pick up the note. He’d been up all night thinking of ways to get Tariel out of her predicament, but had come up with nothing. Could it be that she’d found asolution?
Hope kindled inside Calrain as he unfolded the note and held it up to the firelight. Tariel’s elegant script flowed across the small scrap of paper, and goosebumps raced over his flesh as he read thewords.
Come to the old gallery under the tower at midnight. Bring Riann, if you can convince him. My life depends uponit.
Calrain swallowed. She wanted to see them both? Jealousy flared inside him, and he shook his head. Of course she wanted Riann. He was strong and fast and good with a sword, while Calrain was merely good with numbers and learning. That she had even asked for him at all warmed his heart, chasing away thenegativity.
His feelings were irrelevant in the face of Tariel’s plight. If fetching Riann was what it took to save her life, then by Roisen, Calrain would gethim.
Calrain cleaned up his workspace, then snuffed out the candles and left the office. He wrapped his cloak around his shoulders to protect against the night’s chilly breeze—evenings were always cold in Fjordland, regardless of the time of year—and headed into the dark with atorch.
The first place he checked was the stables, and to his great fortune, he caught Riann just in time. The knight was dressed in light armor, and the stable boy had just finished helping him saddle up his horse. Calrain wondered why he did not have a squire to assist him, but then again, Riann was newly knighted—perhaps one had not been assigned to himyet.
“You’ve caught me at a bad time if it’s fighting lessons you’re after,” Riann said. “I’m about to start my patrol shift.” His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but Calrain did not have time to wonder what it was about patrol that rankled theknight.
