To a Hubban aristocrat, Kinvale would seem quaint, rustic, and old-fashioned, a remote backwater of impire. By local standards it was huge and luxurious. Rap thought it absurdly pretentious or even decadent, but he tolerated it because Inos liked to visit and because he enjoyed Aquiala’s good humor and rare common sense. She also threw great parties.
He sensed a fine fall night beyond the walls. The storms of Krasnegar were five hundred leagues away, beyond the mountains and the taiga. The obscene world-size threat still loomed in his premonition, terrifying and impossible to ignore.
What now? A sorcerer could move himself bodily without the need of a magic portal or any other physical contrivance, but such brute-force sorcery was very conspicuous. He would rattle the ambience over half the world. He would draw attention to himself, to Kinvale, and to the magic portal behind him.
He scanned the shadow-plane of the ambience for signs of power at work. He felt nothing, but he was not sure what his range was now. Common sense suggested that he move to a safe distance before using any large-scale sorcery.
The dinner party obviously had some way to go yet. He could summon the duchess with an occult nudge, but he saw no need to disturb her evening. There was writing paper on the bureau. He scribbled a brief note: “Stole a horse. Back in a few days. Inos sends love. Rap.” Aquiala would discover the door unlocked and find the message.
He strode to the door and reached for the handle. Uncertainty prickled his scalp.
The ambience was extraordinarily quiet. He had not visited Kinvale as a sorcerer since his wedding day, and that was seventeen years ago. He did not know how much of Pandemia he could read from here, but surely as far as Shaldokan, which was a good-size city and must contain a few genuises or adepts, if not a mage or two, or even a sorcerer. They might all be abed, of course.
Or not.
Feeling absurdly self-conscious, as if he were breaking the work rules of some arcane sorcerers’ guild, he took up the key that lay on the bookshelf and unlocked the door like a mundane. Then he hurried along the corridor to the servants’ staircase. Farsight told him where the inhabitants of the house were—being almost undetectable, farsight was safe to use. He had to hide in an alcove while an elderly cook dragged her aching feet up to bed. He masked himself briefly with an inattention spell as he passed the door of the butler’s pantry. When he reached the stables, he used a jab of sorcery to open a locked door. He required more power to soothe the horses’ alarm, but still not much. He enjoyed the feel of their jumpy, inquisitive, juvenile minds, their simple worries and conceits. It was just like old times. He had missed his rapport with horses more than almost anything. He selected a young chestnut gelding that had more spirit than most of the others, and he decided to use bit and bridle, to avoid drawing attention to himself when he arrived at Hub. Horse and rider crossed the yard and out through the gate in misty silence, then broke into a canter.
Long ago, Rap had stolen horses in Krasnegar and set off with Andor on an adventure that had taken them to the ends of the world. He hoped that this little jaunt would be a great deal briefer than that one. He wished he could foresee his return.
The night was dark, so he needed to keep using power on his mount, persuading it that it could see where it was going. He muffled its hooves when he passed by houses. Those sorcerees would be more detectable than his farsight, but still minor. Yet he must be conspicuous in this strangely still ambience.
Where was everybody?
Once upon a time, he had driven a carriage from Hub to Kinvale in a few hours. It was a matter of manipulating the ambience, simple enough for a sorcerer to understand, but impossible to describe to a mundane. He might not achieve quite that travel time now, but on horseback he could surely be at the capital within a day or so.
An hour or so away from Kinvale, he could have used sorcery without attracting attention to the magic portal. But he didn’t. He had still not picked up one flicker of any other power at work. Until he did, he was not going to swim against the tide.
He reined the gelding back and prepared for a long night’s ride.
Every city within reach of the sea had walls around it, although jotnar probably found them more of a compliment than an impediment. An hour after sunrise, Rap’s mount trotted through the gates of Shaldokan.
He chose the best-looking livery stable and arranged for his horse to be returned to Kinvale. He wrote a discreet note to Aquiala, asking her to notify his family that he might not be home for Winterfest.
He had still not detected any power at work—none at all.
Something was seriously awry with the occult in this corner of the Impire. Unless he was willing to run afoul of whatever was responsible, he would have to stay mundane himself.
By the time he had eaten a hearty breakfast at the inn next door, the markets were open. He outfitted himself in the current style of gentlemen’s sportswear and strolled down to the ferry.
On the far side of the river, a milestone outside the posting inn told him he was 693 leagues from Hub.
Fortunately it was a nice day. He hoped the weather would hold up for the next month, but at this time of year that was not exactly probable.
2
Three weeks before Winterfest, an unprecedented snowstorm descended on Hub, ignoring loud complaints from the inhabitants. Snow in even minor quantities was rare in the capital and unheard of so early in the winter.
As Ylo handed her up into the carriage, Eshiala lifted the hem of her cloak with care. It was a full-length miracle of ermine, destined to show every speck of dirt. It already glistened with tiny snowflakes, although she had walked only a few paces down the steps. She settled herself on the scarlet cushions and tucked her hands in her muff so Ylo would not notice their tremor. They trembled almost all the time now.
Ylo sank gracefully onto the seat opposite as the door was closed. He was in uniform, wolfskin cape and shiny breastplate, dazzlingly handsome as ever.
A whip cracked, harness jingled, and the coach lurched forward. She tried to peer out the window so she need not meet his grin, but the flying snow obscured everything.
“The weather should not be so cold so early,” she remarked in what she hoped was a steady voice. Her heart raced, and there was a horrible tightness in her throat. She had no idea where she was being taken, or what was going to be demanded of her. Shandie had said to be ready after lunch, that was all. “Nor you!”
“Nor I what? What does that smart remark mean?” she snapped. He was throwing her off balance already.
“How do you know it’s smart if you don’t know what it means? I meant that you are too young to be so cold all the time. Ah! I see I have brought some color to your cheeks.”
“You are very impertinent,” she muttered, knowing that scolding him was useless.
“I can be much worse. Give me one small smile and I’ll stop.”
She tried to mock him with a simper. It suddenly became a real smile. She found Ylo’s cheerful cheekiness very hard to resist, when everyone else was always so formal with her, even . . . Never mind that line of thought! There was no denying that she enjoyed his company now, outrageous though he was. This was their fourth private conversation in two months, and she was ashamed to realize that she was looking forward to it. Ylo always seemed to care what she was thinking. No one else . . . Never mind that, either!
“You have the fairest smile in the Impire, Eshiala.” He sighed. ”But your gaggle of goslings seemed unusually morose today, I thought. None of them even pinched me.”
“They are annoyed that they can’t come and don’t know where I’m going.”
“Good. Give them something to think about.” He crossed his arms, grinning again.
It was very hard to ignore that debonair smirk. How wonderful it must be not to feel worried all the time! How wonderful to sleep without nightmares.
“You’re not going to have the pleasure of my company for very long this time,” he said thoughtfully. “Let’s get out the thali tiles quickly, and I’ll win the crown jewels off you.”
“So-where are we going?” she asked.
“You don’t know?” He looked startled, and that must certainly be the first time she had ever managed to startle Ylo. She shook her head. “I should have asked, I suppose.”