Letter XXV (C.D. to F.M.)

My Dear Foofri,

I write those words and feel like crying. I would give, quite literally, anything to be speaking to your face instead of writing a letter you will almost certainly never receive. But I have always believed that when one is about to slip over the brink of insanity, it is one’s duty to do all in one’s power to prevent the tragedy. So I here I sit, scribbling out recent events, by hand (a dictation spell being, due to location, out of the question, and my present hosts not having much use for pens, much less magical ones). Not that I should be complaining. Unpleasant as recent events have been, had everything gone as scheduled, I would be worse than dead. Instead I sit warm and fed, in the care of a troll whose nature can only be described as motherly, even if her pens do leak and the writing paper smells suspiciously of fish.

As I recall, my last missive left off as I was about to escape from my house and bolt for Fort Thunderhall. But my plan was utterly overturned right at the beginning, and not by Damorin, who was the only person I had bothered to specifically plan against. I’d just shipped off the muse with my letter and Sean’s, which arrived in the nick of time, when a very determined pounding sounded on the front door.

I considered sneaking out the back, but if the person knocking was in any way connected with my overanxious guardian, a non-response would just set of all the alarms, so I stomped downstairs. Happily (so I thought), I’d put on my pajamas (the ones you gave me) while waiting for the men to depart, just in case I had to put in another appearance. After all, who could possibly suspect me of escaping when I was wearing flannel decorated with talking sheep? The robe I’d thrown on top didn’t do much to stifle their persistent voices.

On my front doorstep stood a full escort of guards. Not Justicum guards. Royal guards.

“Captain, what is the meaning of this?” I demanded of their leader.

“Yeeees,” seconded one of the sheep. “You’re interrupting our beauty sleeeeep.”

The captain looked taken aback, but his training came to the forefront. “Magi Cordelimaera Demestheln?”

“Yes.”

“Aaaaand company,” said the sheep.

“It is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest—”

“Not again!” I interrupted. “Will nothing satisfy that man? Isn’t being locked up in my own house good enough protective custody?”

“Booossy,” agreed the sheep.

The captain was beginning to look a little shifty eyed from trying not to look around too obviously for the voices. “As I was saying, Magi, it is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest for high treason against the Imperial Realm, namely, conspiracy to the attempted assassination of his Majesty, the Emperor. It is also my duty to remove you without delay to the Royal Residence to be tried immediately before the Imperial Tribunal.”

As you can imagine, I was somewhat taken aback by his words. I dealt with the most intelligible of them first. “In the first place, as a member of the Imperial Council, I have the right to be tried before the Board of Masters. And in the second place, are you crazy?” Not, perhaps, the most tactful thing to say to one’s arresting officer, but he had just accused me of trying to kill the emperor.

“Noooot guilty,” chorused the sheep.

“You shut up,” I told them, no longer amused by their antics, and they subsided into sulky silence.

“All accused of high treason are answerable to the Tribunal,” the captain said woodenly, although I did not remember reading any such thing in my Council handbook. Admittedly, I’d skimmed through the boring parts. More to the point, there were a lot of guards on my front porch, and although, making the best use of my security system, I might have been able to escape them, I didn’t think I could outrun an entire army all the way to the Shazar Pass.

“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding,” I said as brightly as I could, allowing them to snap on iron restraining bracelets that blocked my magic.

It was after midnight when we arrived at the Residence, and I was still trying to convince myself that it was all an outrageous mistake. Once everything was straightened out, abject apologies would be made, and I would be able to go back home. Maybe I would even have the pleasure of watching Damorin roll a few heads first. He was not going to be happy when he learned that I had been hauled out of protective custody.

The guards hustled me in through a back door I’d never seen before, and the passages they took all seemed to lead down. At last we arrived at a small audience chamber with two guards posted outside the door. The décor was very somber, but I didn’t spend much time analyzing the interior decorating. As soon as I got a look at the witness bench, my heart seemed to turn to stone.

Winterfast was resplendent in his Sixth Skillhouse regalia, and next to him perched his dirty lying rat of a grandson. Winterfast shook his head and looked sad when he met my gaze.

I’d been trying very hard to remain calm and rational up to that point, but when he rubbed his hypocrisy in my face, I lost my temper. “How could you?” I shouted, running forward. “Grandfather trusted you! I thought you were my friend! And you,” I practically spat, turning on Jamin, “pretending that you were falling in love with me! And all the time—”

That was when the guards got hold of me again, and I had just enough sense not to struggle.

The Imperial Tribunal is very small, consisting of the emperor and whoever else he chooses to appoint. In this case, he had appointed no one, although his private chief of security stood at hand to advise him. The empress was not there, but Ameliorene was, sitting next to her father and clinging to his hand.

The guards led me in front of the throne and pushed me to my knees.

“Magi Cordelimaera,” the emperor began in a very serious voice, “you are charged with willfully attempting to harm our person.”

“Your majesty, there has been a terrible mistake,” I pleaded. “These men,” I pointed at the witness bench, “are lying to you. They want the power of the Suldan Stones for themselves. That one isn’t even really Jamin Winterfast. His name is Benjamin Valerian, and he’s from the Outskirts.”

The lying rat flinched, and Winterfast had to speak quickly to cover it up. “Obviously, her use of the Stones has unsettled her mind. Please, don’t be too hard on the poor child.” If I hadn’t known better, I would have believed he really was concerned about me.

It was the security chief who asked the questions. “Magi Cordelimaera, do you deny that four days ago you removed the Suldan Stones from your vault?”

And I suddenly remembered that a tiny velvet bag hung around my neck. (The guards didn’t bother searching me. I suppose the sheep discouraged them.) “That is true,” I replied, hoping my sudden (new) attack of nerves didn’t show on my face.

“You removed the Stones without the knowledge or permission of the Masters?”

“Yes, but…”

“Please, Magi, just answer the question. You were then in the unsupervised possession of the Stones until approximately twenty hours after you had first removed them?”

“That is correct,” I said stiffly.

“Did you use the Stones while they were in your possession?”

“Yes,” I replied curtly. “And I later reported everything to the Board of Masters.”

My interrogator didn’t seem impressed. “Isn’t it true that you used the Stones to steal secret information about the protections surrounding the emperor to try and kill him?”

“No!” I burst out. “Why in Jalwa’s name would I want to kill the emperor?”

“We believe you are in the employ of certain factions in the Outskirts, who wish to regain power in the Realm by violent means.”

First I was an assassin. Now I was the leader of a rebellion? “Your majesty, please. This is insane!” I was begging now, really and truly frightened.

“We are sorry for you, child,” said the emperor. “But for the sake of our Realm, we must find you guilty.”

“Before you render the sentence, your majesty, I beg that you will remember her youth. She has made a mistake, and she may already be dying because of it.” I didn’t particularly want Winterfast begging on my behalf, but then, a part of me was glad anybody was asking for mercy.

“There is only one punishment for magical treason,” said the interrogator.

The emperor stood, still holding his daughter’s hand. “Magi Cordelimaera, you are hereby banished from the Realm and this world.”

People in sensational serials are forever getting banished, and it always seems to be accompanied by a clap of thunder. The words, as he spoke them, seemed overly familiar, and yet strange in their ordinariness. No clap of thunder for me.

They locked me in a windowless cell with thick walls, a thicker door and the warning that even the smallest attempt at magic would bring down a curse powerful enough to render banishment unnecessary. I sat and stared at the wall, not thinking or feeling, in a state of blessed numbness. It’s all a mistake, I kept thinking. Things will be all right in a moment. I knew I ought to be trying to figure out how to use the Stones as a bargaining chip, but all I could do was sit and stare. In retrospect, I’m rather ashamed of myself.

My reverie was interrupted by the sound of the locks being unfastened. Not already, I thought, starting to feel a flicker of panic. But it was Princess Ameliorene who entered the cell. “Leave us,” she demanded. “I wish to speak with she who would have murdered my father. She cannot hurt me know.” I guessed she carried a ward that would blow into the next world without help of banishment if I laid a little finger on her. The guards reluctantly retreated and shut the door.

Dramatic, I thought distantly, my gaze drifting back to the floor.

“Look at me.”

There was a tone in that command I had never heard before, coldly, emotionlessly imperious. My eyes swung up and I saw with an unpleasant shock that she was smiling. Not one of her practiced social smiles, or even one of gloating triumph, but an expression full of cruel calculation. At that moment I could hardly understand why I had ever thought her frivolous, and my mind broke loose from its numbed state and began to work furiously. I felt coolly detached but very alert, certain that the missing pieces of our mystery were at last about to fall into place.

“I have found,” Ameliorene said in the same even, frigid tone, “that my sense of vanity is not entirely assumed. The effort you have cost me will not be fully justified unless you know not only that you have lost, but who has defeated you.”

It was fascinating to discover that the criminal impulse to confession is not only a work of fiction. I examined her from beneath a raised eyebrow, then began to clap in deliberate mockery. “Bravo, Your Highness. May I congratulate you on this glorious conquest?”

Her nostrils flared but she maintained control of her voice. “Irritating to the last, in your own small way. Do you know, I almost wish you had presented more of a challenge. A formidable dragon to slay, rather than a pesky fly who survives by sheer luck.”

“Buzz, buzz,” I said, in the most bored tone I could muster. “Your assassination attempts really were very sloppy. A blind donkey could have escaped that chandelier.”

“Not mine,” she answered. “Winterfast’s. He was unexpectedly sentimental about you, and I had a hard time convincing him to do the job. His original plan was to adopt you, and thus control the Stones. Of course, I found that unacceptable.”

“Look,” I said, “is this about your tea gown that I ruined? Because frankly, it wasn’t that flattering.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what this is about.” She was definitely beginning to lose her temper. She wanted a broken prisoner. All she was getting was, in my own small way, a rude one.

“The Suldan Stones, yes, yes, I know.”

“No. Winterfast’s obsession with them was useful to draw him into my plan, but that is all.”

I gave a patient sigh, hiding my surprise. “What else could you possible gain by my removal?”

“An empire,” she told me.

I let the sarcasm ooze from my tone as I answered, “Oh of course, you want to take over the Realm. And it’s perfectly clear how getting rid of me means that you suddenly become empress. Although I suppose the next assassination on your father might not fail.”

She smiled, and I suddenly wondered whether she was quite sane. “You’re right. My father is a fool and easily dealt with, as easily as I dealt with Blivius.”

“That was you?” I asked, shocked out of my pretended indifference.

“Who else could have gotten close enough to that paranoid old fool to stick a knife in his back?” She sounded delighted with herself.

“I still don’t understand,” I said, regaining my psychological equilibrium. “You aren’t even in the succession. The emperor will choose an heir from among his male relatives.”

“Oh that’s right.” She looked at me in mock astonishment. “How could I not remember that I’ve been raised as a mere pawn, to be traded to some foreign king for the strongest treaty. How could the silly little princess be empress? Unless, of course, the emperor dies before he can choose an heir, and she had someone by her side that the Council trusted absolutely.”

“Damorin,” I breathed.

“Yes. They made him a Master before he was thirty. They will love making him emperor.” She laughed a little to herself.

“You’ll find you’re sadly mistaken, if you think you can manipulate the Master into being your puppet on the throne.”

“Puppet? Don’t be so naïve, child. Did you think this was only about power?” She leaned forward, as though sharing a great secret. “No woman who has ever been in his arms can view Damorin Ardaya as a puppet.”

And without warning my shield of emotional detachment disintegrated. I clenched my hands around the seat of my chair, trying to hold myself in place.

Ameliorene must have seen that she had at last gotten to me, and she continued talking in a soft, almost nostalgic tone of voice. “He understands, you see, that I’m not everything I appear to be. He was coming along so nicely until you came and made him feel sorry for you. Poor little orphaned magi. You’ve become quite the pet project. Your youthful corruption will be such a disappointment, but I will enjoy consoling him.”

“Get out!” I hissed, shaking with the effort of not diving for her mewling throat. “Get out before I bring the walls down around both of us.”

She was laughing again, triumphantly. “Goodbye, Cordelimaera. We won’t be meeting again.”

She exited and I somehow resisted the impulse to hurl the chair after her. Instead I paced furiously around the cell, feeling nastier by the second. So she was the one responsible for the theft, the lies, the brushes with death. She had taken it into her pretty head to run the empire, and I was the one who got to pick up the bill. All because pernicious fate had chosen assign me to Damorin Ardaya’s list of pet projects.

Where was he anyway? After all the fuss of the past few days, the guards, the warnings, the wards, the protective custody, he was conspicuously absent when the real trouble started. And Sean! Where was he when the Imperial guards were arresting me in my own home? Not to mention your father, the magnificent Underground spy, who decided that telling me nothing was the best way to keep me safe. Where had that landed me? Banished, that’s where!

“Curse and plague the Imperial Underground,” I growled, taking another furious turn, and stopping to glare at an inoffensive corner of the ceiling. “And let’s not forget the oh-so-solicitous Board of Masters who track your every move until you really need them.” I jabbed an accusing finger at the stone, “And then where are they?”

“Right here,” came the smooth reply.

I spun around so fast I lost my balance and fell against the wall. Less than five feet behind me stood Damorin. I had grown so used to identifying him by the shimmering blue robes that for a second I failed to recognize him, and then my anger dissolved into an illogical burst of happiness.

I started to speak his name but he stepped forward and placed a cautionary finger across my lips. “Not here,” he said quietly, and I nodded understanding. He dropped his hand only to pull me into the circle of his arms, and the whispered words of a transport spell immediately built around us.

My happiness evaporated as abruptly as it had come, superceded by icy terror. I thrust myself away, stumbling halfway across the cell. Tangled words spilled in a panic from my lips. “No, too dangerous, I won’t…”

One hand clapped hard over my mouth while the other secured my arms against my sides. The incantation built, more rapidly this time, to its peak and then the walls were dissolving around us. As the last of the stone faded it was illuminated by a dazzling blue flash and I felt the edges of explosion, but they disappeared almost before they registered as the world came back into view.

He released me and I backed away, taking no notice of the lush scenery. “Are you crazy?” I didn’t even attempt to control the fear in my voice. “I’m a condemned traitor! You’ll be one too if they discover you’ve done this!”

“Did you attempt to assassinate the emperor?”

“Of course not!”

“Then I’m not worried,” he said coolly.

“Don’t you understand? The emperor found me guilty so it doesn’t matter whether or not I really am! They won’t just expel you from the Board, she’ll try to kill you!”

His asked sharply, “Ameliorene?”

“You knew?” I asked, stunned.

“I made some interesting discoveries last night.” He broke off and glanced around. “And we need to leave. Come on,” he commanded, extending his hand.

“No,” I said flatly. “I’m not going anywhere with you. If you transport back now, you have a chance of escaping detection.”

“I’m afraid not. There aren’t many people who can break a prisoner out of an imperial holding cell. In fact, I had to have Valerian’s help. The moment they see the damage, they’ll guess who did it. Which is why we need to go right now. Lastra will buy us what time he can, but it won’t be much.”

“Lastra?” I asked, momentarily distract, and then, “Where are we going?”

“Where all the Outlaws go.”

“The Shazar Pass,” I realized, and followed him down the path, taking in the vibrant landscape you had described in your letters. How ironic that the place I had planned to go to escape Damorin was the very location he took me to. Within a very few paces we began to climb, a slope that was gentle at first but which grew increasingly steep.

A few minutes later, as I was beginning to pant, a queer smoky scent came to my nostrils. “Master,” I gasped, “do you smell that?”

He glanced over at me, then halted mid stride. “Cora, how magic are your clothes?”

The smoke was coming from me. As I pulled open the front of my robe, the sheep, until now obediently silent, bleated frantically. “Fiiiiire! Waaaaater! Baaaaaarbecuuuuuue!”

Damorin shoved me toward a bolder that very luckily sat next to the path. “Go behind there and take them off.”

“But—” I tried to protest.

“Cora, you’re on fire!”

He had a point. I retreated behind the rock and scrambled out of the pajamas, and watched in fascination and a little horror as the sheep went up in sickly purple flames. Jalwa be thanked, my robe and my underwear showed no signs of combustibility. Neither did the Stones when I peeked into their pouch. Tying my sash firmly, I ventured back out around the rock. “You’re not going to go up in smoke, too, are you?” I asked, eyeing Damorin’s apparel. He looked positively rustic in denim pants and a rough cotton shirt, but I must admit the look suited him. A lot. Now that I had a moment to actually stop and look at him, I had to remind myself not to gawk. “You aren’t going to go up in flames too, are you?” I asked, to fill up the suddenly awkward silence.

“No,” he answered, beginning to hike again. “Thenzarian peasant clothing was in fashion this spring.”

“Ah yes, authentically woven by Thenzarian peasant children in sweat shops,” I said, a little self-righteously, since I had boycotted that particular trend.

“I only shop Fair Trade, of course.”

I rolled my eyes and kept walking. A few hours later it was more like limping, with a stagger or two thrown in for good measure. My light house shoes were not meant for hiking through the Shazar Pass. “How much farther?” I asked, trying not to sound whiny.

He took my hand to help me over a steep spot, and then kept it since, actually, everything at this point was a steep spot. “I’m not certain. Valerian gave me clear landmarks, but he was a bit vague about the actual distance.”

I wanted to ask what the landmarks led to, but I couldn’t spare the breath.

The final rim of the sun had just disappeared behind the mountains when Damorin announced us to be at our destination. We stood at the top of a rocky outcrop, rimmed with large boulders on three sides and a sheer drop into a valley on the fourth. Walking to a breadbox sized white stone near the cliff edge, Damorin dropped to one knee and traced a circle around it, muttering softly. Then he clapped three times and the stone erupted in blue flame.

“How did you do that?” I demanded.

“It’s not human magic. According to Valerian it will attract some friends of his.”

“Marvelous. How soon will they be here?”

“I have no idea.” He walked to the edge and stared down into the valley.

I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. The twilight brought a chill to the air that would only deepen with the darkness, and my robe was not exactly made to withstand mountain nights. I sank down beside the signal flare, sadly heatless, and hugged my knees against my chest.

As I stared at the flickering blue, I thought about how very close I had come to the end of life as I knew it. If Damorin hadn’t rescued me, I would be beginning my first night in exile, banished forever from the Realm and all I loved. It was still a possibility. I wondered bleakly if Ameliorene was crazy, and what height of revenge she would be driven to by what she would surely see as the ultimate betrayal on Damorin’s part.

A skittering pebble heralded his approach. Looking up at his tall shadow I said quietly, “I am so sorry.”

“For what?”

“Ruining your life. Ameliorene is going to kill us both.”

He actually laughed, but then, he hadn’t seen her crazy eyes when she’d told me she would make him emperor. “The truth is going to come out, and once it does, there won’t be any question over reinstating either of us to the council,” he said firmly. “If we’re ever officially removed in the first place.”

“And if we’re still alive.”

“We’re hard people to kill.” Despite his reassuring tone, I shivered and he reached over to touch my hand, frowning. “You’re freezing.” He stood, then reached down to pull me up too. “Let’s walk.”

I willingly traded the illusory warmth of the signal fire for that of his arm around my shoulders. The stars were out, but no moon, and it was nearly impossible to see anything beyond the cold glow of our own circle. Down below winked tiny flashes of light. Fireflies, I suppose, or whatever cousin of fireflies can survive in the Pass.

“Cora, how did you know the princess was responsible?” His voice drew my attention back from the winking lights.

“She came to my cell, fifteen minutes before you did. She said that she was the who had framed me.”

“What else?” he asked gently.

“She said Winterfast was the one who made the assassination attempts on me.” His arm tightened. “But she stabbed Blivius.”

“Jalwa’s ghost,” he breathed, as stunned as I had been. “Why?”

“She wants to be empress. She’s going to kill her father.”

He stood silent for a long time, and then he said in an odd tone, “And I thought I knew her.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered in a small voice, wondering just how upset he was.

But he sounded more puzzled than betrayed as he said, “It doesn’t make sense. Why does she have to banish you to assassinate her father? And why does she think they’ll give her the crown, anyway?”

“Because of you,” I told him.

He looked at me uncomprehendingly, and I felt myself flushing, no longer cold. “She thinks if she marries you, they’ll make you emperor. And she wanted to get rid of me because she thought that I was, well, distracting you.”

“She wanted you killed because of me,” he repeated, and then he put both arms around me and held me tightly. “I’ve been trying to protect you, and I’ve only been putting you in more danger.”

He might have said something else, but I had stopped listening. Waves of warmth washed over me, driving away thoughts of traitors and empires and freezing magicless wastelands, and everything but the realization that the top of my head fit perfectly beneath his chin. I closed my eyes and faced the fact that the reason I had been so shaken by Ameliorene, why I had been so frightened when he risked his life to transport me out of that cell, and why I was at this moment feeling so idiotically happy was that I was helplessly in love with Damorin Ardaya.

You no doubt saw this coming, dearest, but I was blindsided. And stuck in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, waiting for who-knew-what to come out of the darkness, was hardly ideal timing for this particular self revelation. Particularly since it rendered me incapable of thinking anything but how heavenly my present position was.

“If we’re not interrupting anything,” came a gruff voice, followed by a great deal of snickering.

I pulled back immediately, glad the night hid my blush, and squinted at the squat shapes, almost indistinguishable from the boulders in the blue light. Trolls. I should have guessed. Sean’s friends had arrived.

They may be rude, crude, and dead ugly, but I will say this for Trolls: they know how to live well. After Damorin explained our situation, the trio (I believe the same ones you ran into, Arturo, Vincenzo, and Pilukio by name) led us along a twisted path chipped out of the Cliffside, and which, if I am not mistaken, led exactly where it did not appear to. I have never studied troll magic, but it must be fascinating. At any rate, we eventually arrived at the concealed entrance of a cave. A series of caves, I should say. The trio’s lair was a large set of underground chambers, interconnected and sumptuously, if garrishly, furnished.

As we entered, yet another troll came bustling out to meet us. This was Lucenza, and a kinder creature I never hope to meet. She took one look at my exhausted self and took me under her wing. I was wrapped in blanket, and fed a most nourishing cup of tea while Damorin held conference with her brothers. I wanted to hear what was going on, but the warmth and the softness of the cushions were too much for my exhausted body, and I fell asleep before my cup was quite empty.

When I woke up this morning, Lucenza and I were alone in the caves, Damorin having departed on a scouting trip with our guides of last night. I’ve spent the morning trying to avoid both being fed to death and thinking about Damorin. Neither attempt has been very successful. Did you know that there are twenty-seven distinct forms of Munches? And the fact that someone isn’t present is absolutely no help in thinking sensibly about him.

Lucenza is out of the room, and Muse has just appeared. He has your letter, but refuses to stop long enough to let me read it. He seems very nervous, and I wonder if he has some sort of unpleasant history with trolls.

He insists on leaving now, so with all my love,
Cordy