A Kiss of Flame & Fury, page 14
Half-height stone walls enclosed the garden. The brightly painted wood gate was Gwydion’s work, finely molded with intricate, lifelike plants, birds, and animals.
Admiring it, I understood why Father liked to say it was lucky there were too few mages in the world to put stonemasons and woodworkers out of business.
Inside walls, the beds were crowded with a profusion of herbs, shrubs, and trees, their sweet smells filling the air. A row of hives clustered in the partial shade around a tall clove tree laden with pink flowers.
Gwydion was harvesting meadowsweet when he arrived. He waved at us, and returned to work, his shears flashing in the sun as he cut stalks heavy with tiny white blossoms.
While we waited for the others to join us, I set down the wide-mouthed jars we’d brought for the honey, and fetched the smoker, wax-scrapers, honey extractor, and bee-veils from the small stone drying shed.
Since we were out of sight of the castle, Jacinthe obligingly called upon her Fire magic to light the smoker.
Her newfound control over her powers impressed me. Gwydion’s attentions had proved highly effective. I just wished I knew how to close my bond with Jacinthe and give us both some privacy.
We set to work and harvested a goodly amount of honey before Tama, Boreas, and Jacinthe’s young kitchen apprentice friend arrived.
I drew on my Earth magic and created a set of temporary stone benches for everyone to seat themselves.
“Thank you all for coming,” Jacinthe began. “Has everyone heard about the attack on Lord Mariota this morning?”
She paused as they nodded. “And you all remember what happened to Lady Cresta and Lord Bernardo? How someone poisoned Tama and Lord Shuji, and the three Djinni hostages? And then they tried to kill Boreas by compelling poor Guard Machry to attack him?”
More nods.
My nightmares over the past weeks had revolved around the unknown killer targeting Alondra next. Or Jacinthe. My chest tightened with the need to protect them.
“We need to find out who’s responsible before anyone else is hurt or killed,” I said.
“All the cooks and kitchen apprentices have been talking about the Victory Day poisonings,” offered Elswyth, the girl who had cut her hand so badly. “We all think that someone on the serving staff added the poison after we delivered the food to the Great Hall.”
My heart sank. Aunt Amella had taken charge of organizing the Victory Day banquet. Did she know about the poisoned dishes beforehand?
Since arriving on the island with us, Aunt Amella had worked hard to worm herself into Lady Erzabetta’s good graces. During our occasional family dinners, she boasted of being Erzabetta’s confidant.
Was my aunt entangling herself in a de Norhas conspiracy yet again?
“Lord Roderigo and Lady Erzabetta are the ones with the most to gain from the deaths,” I pointed out. “Ever since their Uncle Beltrán escaped from prison—”
“The Duke de Norhas escaped?” Jacinthe asked, shocked.
“When?” demanded Boreas.
I realized that Aunt Amella must have only told Alondra and me. Otherwise, the news would have spread all over the castle by now.
“Yes, he escaped on Victory Day,” I explained. “Someone sent the prison guards drugged wine and freed him.”
“And if his niece and nephew start a new war by killing imperial hostages, the duke could take advantage of the chaos and seize power from your Domina-Regent,” Gwydion said. “My, my, my, that’s a plan worthy of the Fae.” His tone was filled with admiration.
“A lot of the military commanders admire Duke Beltrán,” I said slowly. “If pressed, they might switch sides against the Domina-Regent.”
“Well, that would explain why Lord Roderigo and Lady Erzabetta haven’t investigated the murders,” Jacinthe said. “They made speeches about what an awful tragedy occurred, but they haven’t done anything to find the murderer or prevent more deaths.”
“I’ll do what I can to find out about the poison that killed Lord Shuji and almost killed Tama,” I volunteered, thinking of Mage-Healer Armand and Mage-Instructor Bevitrice. “Whoever poisoned their meals also added a death curse.”
“Which means a mage,” Tama said flatly. “Guard Machry was also cursed, was he not? With something that forced him to act against his will?”
“A compulsion charm,” I said, a cold shudder passing through me. Compulsion was black magic, punishable by death. So were death-curses.
“The guards like gold coins,” Boreas commented.
Tama nodded. “And pearls. I have given them gifts, and in return they now leave our doors unlocked, unless Commander Guisbald visits the gatehouse.”
“I’ll dip into my hoard and drop by the barracks,” Boreas offered. “See if anyone knows if Guard Machry spoke with a mage right before he attacked me.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll ask Mage-Instructor Quinson what kind of spell could melt the courtyard cobblestones into glass,” Jacinthe said. “And see how he reacts.”
“You think Mage Quinson could be the one who attacked Lord Mariota?” I asked, trying to remember what I knew about him, beyond his perversions.
“He’s a powerful Earth mage,” Gwydion said. “I’ve heard he worked for the de Norhas family while teaching at the Imperial Academy for the Magical Arts in Lutèce.”
Lutèce was the Duke de Norhas’ capital city. “Mage-Instructor Bevitrice also taught there,” I said with a sinking heart. I admired her vast knowledge of potions and healing spells. “She’s a powerful Wood magic practitioner, but I don’t know her other affinities.”
“So, we have two strong suspects for the poisons, the compulsion charm, the death curses, and this morning’s Earth magic attack,” Gwydion said. “Let’s not forget that Lord Roderigo and Lady Erzabetta are also mages, though no one’s seen them practicing their craft since they arrived here.”
“I really hope Mage Bevitrice isn’t the poisoner,” Jacinthe exclaimed. “I like her! But she then again, she teaches the Potions classes, and you know what they say about the difference between a potion and poison.”
“The dose,” Gwydion said dryly. “Let’s meet here again in a few days to share our findings.”
∞∞∞
As Jacinthe and I entered Mage-Healer Armand’s office, I saw the goblet on his desk and smelled the powerful odor of brandywine.
“Back so soon from visiting the bees, you two?” he asked, his voice slurred. “What brings you here? Has there been another fire?”
Jacinthe blushed, and her acute embarrassment flowed through our soul-bond. “No, Mage Armand. We want to ask you something.”
Armand sighed and took a deep sip from his goblet. “If Apprentice Ilhan here wasn’t able to answer your question, I’m sure it must be good. Ask away!”
“We’re researching the poisons and death curses used on the two merman hostages, Lord Shuji and Lord Tama,” I said. “We want to know how to prevent more deaths.”
“You want to know about poisons?” Armand spluttered and coughed out a cloud of alcoholic fumes. “Apprentices, you’re treading on dangerous ground.”
“Does that mean you know who poisoned Lord Shuji and Lord Tama?” Jacinthe asked.
Armand shook his head. “But I can tell you they used a tincture of magenta witchflower tree bark. It’s a deadly poison that fishermen have used against the Sea-People for centuries.”
“Does magenta witchflower bark have any medicinal uses?” I asked.
I didn’t recall seeing any jars or boxes labeled as magenta witchflower in our storeroom, but I hadn’t been looking for it, either.
“It’s extremely dangerous. Even a tiny amount can kill you,” Armand said. He pulled a flask out of his desk drawer and refilled his goblet. “I keep a small quantity under lock and key for my pharmacology studies.”
“Is it possible someone could have stolen it?” Jacinthe asked.
“Absolutely not,” Armand replied indignantly. “Only myself, Castellan Roderigo, Chatelaine Erzabetta, and Lady Margitts have keys to that cabinet.”
“Thank you, Mage-Healer,” I said. My mind raced with the implications of this new information.
Jacinthe and I looked at each other. Our list of chief suspects had narrowed considerably.
“Take care who you question,” Armand warned. “The truth may be more dangerous than you think, young Lord Ilhan.”
∞∞∞
When our little group met again in the apothecary garden two days later, Jacinthe and I shared what we’d learned about the type of poison and the people who had access to it.
She reported that Mage-Instructor Quinson hadn’t displayed any signs of guilt when questioned about the attack on Lord Mariota.
“Instead, he lectured me on the risks of using Earth power on a volcanic island. He thinks Mariota did this to himself by calling up more power than he could handle. ‘As you should well know, Student Jacinthe,’” she finished, quoting him.
“If he’s a liar, he’s an accomplished one,” Gwydion said, his silver eyes narrowed. “At least we now know that only four people in the castle have access to the poison used on Friend Tama and the late Lord Shuji.”
“That means the three most powerful people at this academy are probably behind the killings,” I added, my stomach twisting at the thought that Aunt Amella could be responsible for these heinous acts. “Because I refuse to believe that Armand could ever kill anyone. He’s a good man who takes his healer’s oath seriously.”
∞∞∞
The following afternoon, I made my way to Mage-Instructor Avelina Bevitrice’s office.
After asking around, I had learned she once worked as a court healer for Duke Beltrán.
My mind raced as I considered the implications. Was she involved in the duke’s conspiracy against the Domina? Was her exile to here connected to his downfall?
“Enter!” she called in response to my knock.
In contrast to Armand’s messy office, her desk and bookshelves were neatly organized. A tall crystal vase filled with fresh tuberoses perfumed the air, and bundles of dried herbs hung from a rack against one wall.
As I entered, I knew I had to tread carefully.
“Ah, Lord Ilhan,” Bevitrice greeted me with a nod. “Have a seat. I trust you found today’s lesson on antidotes enlightening?”
“Indeed, Mage-Instructor,” I replied smoothly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I had a question about how I handled a recent poisoning case in the infirmary.”
She leaned forward, her expression alight with interest. “Yes?”
“On Victory Day, two of the Sea People were poisoned at the banquet. One died on the spot but we treated the other with activated charcoal in the infirmary. Your lecture this morning made me wonder whether we did all we could. Do you know of any antidote that might have saved Lord Shuji?” I watched her reaction closely.
Bevitrice’s eyes flickered with suspicion before she masked it. “Ah, a most interesting question. However, without knowing what poison was used, I cannot guess at the antidote.”
“Mage-Healer Armand identified it as magenta witchflower,” I replied. “With all these troubling events lately, I want to know what to do in case someone else is poisoned with the stuff.”
“That’s commendable of you,” she agreed, her eyes never leaving mine. “I can see that you’ll make a fine Mage-Healer someday.” She raised a finger stained with plant juices. “But I caution you: asking the wrong questions, especially in this place, can be just as dangerous as taking poison.” She paused. “And there is no antidote to magenta witchflower. The only treatment is to induce vomiting in a patient before a fatal dose is absorbed. The activated charcoal was a good try at mitigation.”
Her words hung heavily in the air. Armand had given me an almost-identical warning about asking dangerous questions.
As I left her office, I couldn’t help but wonder what the mages at Darkstone Academy were hiding. And what they were afraid of.
Chapter 14
Jacinthe
Over the following weeks, we made no further progress towards solving the murders. I and the others were convinced that Lord Roderigo and Lady Erzabetta were behind the attacks, but we had no proof.
“And even if we prove that the castellan and chatelaine are guilty, what good will that do us?” Gwydion asked after I expressed my frustration. “They rule this island. All the mages and guards answer to them.”
“If we know who’s responsible, then maybe we can prevent the next attack,” Ilhan said.
“Maybe,” Gwydion said. “Maybe not.”
“If they’re dead, they can’t carry out whatever schemes they’re working against your Domina,” Tama said with cold practicality.
Boreas nodded in vigorous agreement. “I could kill them so quickly they wouldn’t have time to call the guards or use a defensive spell.”
“And then the humans would wage war on us for certain,” Gwydion pointed out. “Kill all the Wind-Walkers and all the Fae and take our lands.”
Boreas growled, but couldn’t argue against Gwydion’s logic. “We still need to stop them from poisoning us and attacking us with death curses,” he said instead.
Lord Mariota healed enough to hobble out of the infirmary on his own two feet. Armand predicted he would make a full recovery in another month.
And Gwydion and Ilhan finished their work on the Kujiranokiba.
That morning, Gwydion deliberately did not drain my powers. We all held our breaths as I slipped the braided seaweed cord over my head and Gwydion activated the restrictor spells on the pendant.
The incised designs on the whale’s tooth glowed briefly, then faded. My silver indenture collar chimed, and a gentle prickle of gooseflesh ran over my skin.
“Levitate something,” Ilhan suggested. “It’s probably safer than using Fire or Earth to test the restrictor spell.”
I remember the wild windstorm I’d conjured up on the first day of the Fundamentals class, and hoped I wouldn’t do the same to my room. I’d already inflicted enough damage on my furnishings.
Using a dried comfrey leaf rather than a feather, I cautiously reached for my power. The pendant buzzed against my skin, then my magic responded, not in a wild surge as before, but in a steady flow.
The papery leaf floated up from the tabletop and hung in mid-air. I grinned in delight.
“It actually works!” Ilhan sounded surprised.
“Of course it works,” Gwydion said. “Didn’t I promise it would?”
∞∞∞
After that, my life settled into a routine of classes and infirmary work. My nights were spent with either Tama or Boreas as both men continued to court me.
Gwydion still came to my room before breakfast. But now, instead of draining my power, he brought tea. We talked and kissed until I was aching with desire, but he resisted taking the courtship further.
“In good time, sweet Jacinthe,” he promised. “Did you know that postponing a climax intensifies it? When the time comes, I’ll make you scream with pleasure.”
But I could sense the ravenous darkness inside him, and understood his hesitation to take the next step with me. So I said only, “Is that a promise, Fae prince?”
“Yes.” He smiled at me, and my breath caught at his sheer beauty. He was tall and lithe, with long-lashed silver eyes and pointed ears peeking out from a glossy mop of pale green hair. When we first met, I’d wrongly guessed he was a Forest Fae.
With the charmed Kujiranokiba stabilizing my powers, and my life finally settling into a routine of classes and infirmary work after my overly eventful summer and autumn, I sat down to write a long-overdue letter to my three half-sisters.
I had parted ways with Talisa and the twins, Juno and Mira, over a year ago.
Mama had sailed with them to the prestigious Imperial Academy for the Magical Arts in Neapolis Capitola last autumn. Then disaster struck. On Mama’s return voyage, her ship sank in a storm with all hands and passengers lost.
And my life changed forever. In the unhappiness and tumult that followed, I didn’t think of my sisters very often. Most days, I was struggling simply to survive.
Now, everything had changed for the better and I had the time and energy to wonder how they were doing, and to miss them.
The last supply ship of the year was due any day now. After that, winter storms would temporarily cut off communication with the Continent. This would be my last opportunity to write to my sisters before spring.
I seated myself at my desk, uncapped my fountain pen, and began writing.
