The Whitefire Crossing (2 page)

From the fearful silence of the crowd, the approaching mage was a lot stronger than middling. I craned my neck around a group of tradesmen in hopes of spying the sigils on the mage’s clothing. On occasion I’d seen men whose silken shirts bore the looping golden scrawls signifying sand mages, and once—from a distance—a woman with the eerie, pale spirals of a bone mage patterning her dress, but none more powerful than that.

The tradesmen gasped and shrank back. I sucked in my own breath with a startled hiss, as I glimpsed jagged red and black sigils.

A blood mage! Gods, I’d never thought to see one in the flesh, though I’d heard plenty of spine-freezing stories. Everyone knows mages have to raise power for their spells somehow, but most of them find ways that don’t turn grown men pale. Blood mages, on the other hand...they’re rare as mist in the desert, but the word is their magic’s as powerful as it comes, fueled with pain and death. And the bloodier, nastier, and more lingering the death, the better.

I plastered myself against the wall right alongside the cringing tradesmen, but I couldn’t resist sneaking another look. From the stories, you’d think a blood mage should look deformed and evil, but he just looked like a man. A tall man, broad shouldered, with thick wavy chestnut hair coiling past his shoulders, highsider-style. Arrogant as all get out, in that way ordinary highsider men tried so hard to imitate. What would it be like, to know you could do anything you wanted? Anything at all?

I darted a glance at his face, then nearly shit myself when his eyes locked with mine. For a long, frozen interval his cold hazel gaze pinned me in place, like a mudworm pierced by a dagger. At last he smiled—a smile whose predatory, amused malice turned my gut hollow—and strode on.

I slumped against the wall, my heart hammering. Next temple of Khalmet I passed, I’d make an offering. A
big
offering, because clearly I owed the god of luck for saving me from my own stupidity in attracting a blood mage’s attention. He’d probably come streetside to claim fresh victims for his spellwork—a fate I shuddered to imagine.

I pulled myself together. I still had a visit to make before preparing for the trip to Kost. I ducked down the next alley and made for the far corner, where the mortar between the great stone blocks had crumbled away. It was all too easy to scramble up the hundred feet to the building roof, using my fingers and the edges of my shoes in the cracks. City climbing’s never as fun as climbing in the mountains.

City views aren’t bad, though. Colorful magelights gleamed and sparkled in the highside towers like Suliyya’s thousand jewels of legend, outshining the stars in the darkening sky and contrasting with the warmer glow of lanternlight radiating up from the streets. Above the soaring outlines of the western city towers, the dark bulk of the Whitefires rose like a great saw-toothed wall, the snow on their peaks pale in the twilight.

My mood eased by the sight, I headed across the roof to a small cupola and a window glowing with warm light through a gauzy curtain. I made quick work of the window lock and pushed my way through the curtain, dropping into the brightly painted room beyond.

“Dev!” Liana beamed a welcome from the long table where she was clearing away the remains of a meal. Toys lay scattered over the floor, and she had to raise her voice over the excited shrieks of the kids playing on the far side of the wide room. “You could use the door, you know. I promise we’d let you in.”

“Nah, it’s more fun this way,” I said. “Besides, I remember how you always liked surprises.” The kids tumbled across the room and threw themselves at my legs, giggling and shouting my name.

“Dev, what’d you bring, what’d you bring?” the littlest one yelled. I picked him up, tickling him gently, and tossed him into the air. Where he stayed, floating. I did an exaggerated double take.

“No! This can’t be Tamin. Tamin can only lift himself a body length!” I said loudly, and reached for him, ready to tickle. He darted backward in the air, out of my grasp.

“I am so Tamin! Look what I can do, Dev! Liana says next month I’m old enough to go out on jobs with everyone else!”

The other kids clamored for attention. I handed out the candies I’d been saving for the occasion and made sure to marvel as they showed me their prowess, making the candies float and dance and have mock battles in the air. My eyes roved over the group. Jek, Porry, Alsa, Kuril, Ness, Jeran, Melly...I frowned. “Where’s Tobet?”

I’d asked Liana, but it was eleven-year-old Melly who answered me. “He Changed and couldn’t lift no more, so Red Dal sent him to his new family.” She raised her chin, her amber eyes sparkling. “Red Dal says I’m boss Tainter now, Dev. I call the ward tricks tonight and the littlies have to do what I say.”

Only long practice kept my voice light. “’Bout time, huh, kid? Taint like yours, you’ll make a fine boss.”

My eyes met Liana’s as I spoke, and we shared a moment of bitter memory. The Change is a terrible thing, for a Taint thief. One day you’re happy, and cared for, and can fly and lift and kip and do all kinds of fun tricks. Then puberty hits and the power dwindles away, never to return. You’re useless to your handler then, so he sells you off to whoever will take you. New family for Tobet, yeah, right. Just another pretty lie from Red Dal to make sure his Tainters stayed complacent, backed up by his follow-me charms. And if I tried to say different, I’d be dead before dawn, and the kids with me. The city ganglords won’t risk Tainted kids turning on them.

The kids were still chattering with excitement, the younger ones darting through the air like whiskflies. Liana caught Tamin’s ankle as he zipped past.

“Kids, calm down, all right? You’ve a busy night ahead and I don’t want anyone getting too tired.” They grumbled, but obeyed when Liana shooed them back over to their play area.

“Job tonight, huh?” I dropped into a chair next to Liana.

“Yeah. First in a couple days, so they’re a little over-excited.”

I knew better than to ask what the job was. Liana let me come around for old times’ sake, but I didn’t work for Red Dal anymore. He wouldn’t take it well if I got nosy. My gaze lingered on Melly’s dark red hair, bent over an intricate pattern of string as she chanted a rhyme along with Ness and Jeran. No telling how long she had left. I thought of the blood mage’s smile, and suppressed a shudder. As an adult, I’d heard too many stories about Changed kids sold off to anonymous buyers, never to be seen again.

Liana followed my gaze. “Dev, about Melly...” She trailed off. My stomach knotted up at the unhappiness on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Melly’s Taint couldn’t be failing already. Gods all damn it, not yet. Not when I had no chance of keeping my promise to her father.

Liana read my face. “Don’t worry, her Taint’s still strong. But...” She leaned in close, and whispered, “Morra said she saw Red Dal talking to a man wearing the badge of Karonys House.”

Under the table, my hands clenched into fists. No surprise that Red Dal was already shopping Melly around to the top pleasure houses. Sethan had been handsome enough, but his daughter looked to surpass him by far. More, she’d inherited that crazy hair of his, the deep crimson of magefire flame—a shade rarely seen in Ninavel. Red Dal would make a mint, that was sure. But Karonys House...shit. They catered to highsiders with nasty kinks, and used taphtha juice to keep their jennies compliant. Melly’d be a vacant-eyed doll within days of entering Karonys, her mind burned away forever by the taphtha. I fought down nausea.

“Nothing’s certain yet, Dev. Another house could outbid Karonys, easy.” Liana sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

“Yeah.” I didn’t trust myself to say anything more. Hell if I’d let any pleasure house get their hands on Melly, after everything Sethan had done for me after my Change. I vowed silently I’d do whatever it took to complete Bren’s gods-damned job. I’d never outbid Karonys, but my promised pay would be enough for other, riskier options. Red Dal or Karonys, neither would take well to theft of costly property, but with enough coin to cover our tracks, I could spirit Melly away and set her up proper in a new life far from Ninavel.

“I’m sorry, Dev.” Liana put a gentle hand on my arm. “You all right? I heard about you and Jylla...”

I gritted my teeth. “Oh, for Khalmet’s sake. You’d think someone had stood on top of the Alton Tower and announced it.”

“But you two’ve been together since your Change! I don’t understand. Just because she found a highside mark to squeeze dry...that kind of game never bothered you before.” Concern was all over Liana’s wide brown eyes and round face. I bit back a sour smile. Thank Khalmet, Liana didn’t know the half of it. I shrugged and made an effort to sound cheerful.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got a job going, I’m heading out to Kost. That’s why I came, wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

“Oh good, I know how you love the mountains. But we’ll miss you, me and the kids both.” She gave me a little, wistful smile. “Take care of yourself out there, huh? Don’t get eaten by wolves.”

It always amused me what city people like Liana thought about the mountains. Wolves. Ha. More like avalanches and falling rocks and late-season storms. “Right. I’ll make sure to fend off the wolves, and I’ll bring you and the kids something from Kost.”

Her eyes lit up, and for a moment I could see the skinny, shy little girl she’d once been. She always did love presents. I slipped a few coins into her hand. “Thanks for the news. Keep an eye out for Melly, huh?”

“You know I’ll try,” Liana said softly. I got up from the table, after another glance at Melly’s fiery hair.
Grow slow, kid,
I urged her silently.
I just need a few more weeks.

***

(Kiran)

Kiran shifted from foot to foot beside a trellis covered in night-blooming jasmine. For the hundredth time, he stared up at the pattern of stars visible above Lizaveta’s courtyard wall. The hour of his rendezvous with Dev was fast approaching. Yet without Lizaveta’s promised aid, he dared not leave Ninavel. His magic was no match for Ruslan’s. Ruslan would hunt him down with the lazy ease of a sandcat, the instant he realized Kiran had fled the city. Kiran plucked a moonflower from a nearby vine, then crushed the blossom in a fist. Lizaveta had told him to come to her garden, assured him of her help...but would she keep her word? She’d known Kiran since he was a child, but she’d known Ruslan far longer.

The patter of feet on stone made him whirl. A somber youth in the pale robe of a servant slipped through the courtyard gate. His eyes downcast, he handed Kiran a sealed packet. Lizaveta’s personal sigil lay in glowing violet lines over the warded seal.

Kiran placed his hand over the seal. Power stung his senses, delicate and sharp as a cat’s claws, and the seal cracked open. He unfolded the packet, which proved to contain a jeweled silver disc on a thin chain, and a note in Lizaveta’s spiky handwriting.

The amulet will hide you so long as you abstain from magic. You have until dawn tomorrow before Ruslan returns. Use the time wisely.

Kiran let out a shaky breath. The servant was already retreating. “Wait,” he said. Obediently, the youth turned. “Tell her—” Kiran stopped. Loss and regret tangled with gratitude in his throat. “Tell her,
athanya solaen
.” A farewell, one of the scant phrases he knew of Lizaveta’s native tongue. He’d heard Ruslan say it to her, once.

The youth bowed, and vanished into the darkness beyond the gate. Kiran balanced Lizaveta’s note on his palm, and called fire from within. Blue flames devoured the note and remained, dancing, in his cupped hand.

Such a small thing, for the last act of magic he would ever perform.

The flames vanished as Kiran snapped his hand shut. Ruthlessly, he crushed the yearning they left behind. Alisa had lost her life. His own losses paled in comparison.

***

The Aran Fountain stood still and silent, its stone bowl empty of all but starlight. Lord Sechaveh only ran city fountains on his favorite feast days; to do otherwise would be a shocking waste of water. The square appeared as empty as the fountain. Kiran’s stomach sank. Where was Dev? Had he changed his mind?

On the far side of the fountain, a shadow moved. Kiran sighed in relief when it resolved into Dev’s short, wiry form. He tried to force his muscles to relax. He had to prevent Dev from realizing the depth of his anxiety. Bren had assured him Dev wouldn’t ask questions, but Kiran remembered Dev’s uncomfortably sharp scrutiny in Bren’s office. If Dev ever discovered the truth, he’d abandon Kiran in an instant. No untalented citizen of Ninavel would risk the wrath of a mage as powerful as Ruslan, no matter how high the pay.

Dev didn’t speak as Kiran approached, only motioned for him to follow. He led the way through a maze of narrow alleys and darkened side streets, ending up in front of a cracked and splintered wooden door. The scent of animals, dung, and hay hung heavy in the air. Dev opened the door and ushered Kiran into a dusty room crowded with crates. The flickering light of a candle lantern illuminated a single rough table, covered in piles of leather straps and strange metal implements.

“Here’s how this’ll work.” Dev pushed back his hood and dropped onto a crate, motioning Kiran to another nearby. Even in the low light, Dev’s pale green eyes were as startling as Kiran remembered. Their color seemed completely out of place combined with the nut-brown skin and coarse dark hair so common in Ninavel.

“I’ve signed on as an outrider for the first trade convoy of the season. You’re gonna be my apprentice. You’re a little old for it, but I’ll say your family’s business failed and I’m taking you on as a favor.” Dev studied him, head tilted. “Apprentice means you get food and water, no wages. And you have to work. Hard.”

Kiran realized he was expecting a protest. “I can do that.” Kiran had spent endless hours locked in concentration with Mikail in Ruslan’s sunlit workroom, measuring out channel patterns for practice spells. Surely mere physical labor would seem easy by comparison.