The bird trilled again, then, satisfied it had driven off all competition, began to preen. Behind it, a large spider crept down the tree trunk.
“Lieutenant,” Suiden said.
“No, I’m not a mage. Yet.” The spider reached the branch and eased closer to the bird. The bird raised one wing and worked on its feathers.
“I see. And those leaves?” Javes asked.
The spider moved a little closer, one slender leg by the bird’s foot. The bird started working on its tail feathers. “As Laurel Faena said, sir, they’re given to those who are starting to come into their full mage powers. It can be—traumatic, and mentha alleviates the symptoms.”
“Like the symptoms you’re having?” Suiden asked. “Are you coming into your powers, Lieutenant?” The bird raised its head to clean another part of its body, saw the spider and, squawking, tried to take off.
“I—” The spider shot up and grabbed the bird by the throat. After a brief tussle, the spider carried the bird, still feebly flapping, back up the tree trunk.
“Lieutenant.”
A few yellow feathers floated to the ground.
“I ran away,” I said. “Broke my indentures.”
The captains were silent while they worked at my statement. “You were apprenticed to a mage, Rabbit?” Suiden asked after a moment.
“Yes,” I said.
“Why did you run away?” Javes asked.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what, Lieutenant?” Suiden said.
“That I’d get eaten alive.” I pulled my mind away from the feast in the tree and realized that I had moved to the courtyard doors. I turned to face the captains and felt my lips twist as I remembered a street drama I had seen. “Oh, he’s not a dark mage or a dread lord. He isn’t out to conquer the world by opening the nether gates and flooding us with his demon minions.” I paused. “But he’s not out to bring heaven on earth either.”
“What is he out for?” Javes asked.
“Himself.”
It was quiet again; then Captain Suiden pulled a chair out from the table. “Sit, Rabbit. You look like you’re going to keel over.” He sat down himself, laying the leaves on the table.
Javes picked them up. “So you’re a runaway apprentice mage who is coming into his power, whatever that means.” He paused. “What does it mean?”
I looked at my hands. “There are those who are born with the talent—”
“You mean magic?” Javes asked.
“No, sir,” I said. “The entire Border is what you’d call ‘magic’ ” Despite myself I gave a faint smile. “Look at honored Laurel—he’s a talking mountain cat who walks on two legs. And carries a big stick.” My smile faded. “But there are those who can shape a … a force—”
“Wizardry,” Suiden said, his eyes intent. “You’re able to summon and command the elements.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. Eventually. It takes years of study to get there.”
“Yet all this is happening to you now,” Javes said. “Why?”
I looked out the window again, but couldn’t see anything in the tree. “Twice in a mage’s life the talent kind of takes over. Once during late childhood when it first manifests, and then just at the beginning of adulthood, when the mage’s aspects become apparent.” I remembered my family’s startlement when, after recovering from a sudden fever, I’d walk into a room and stuff would fly off shelves and fires lit by themselves. Then Magus Kareste showed up, promising to teach me how to control my burgeoning adolescent talent. Which he did. But he also taught me how to fear.
“Aspects,” Javes repeated, his brows knitting.
“Air, water, fire and earth,” Suiden said. “Is that what happened yesterday, Rabbit? Your aspect became apparent?”
I remembered the roaring sound of wind, while the trees remained motionless. “Partly,” I admitted.
“Partly?”
I shifted in my chair. “I think my master found me.”
“And?”
“I think I forced him away again.”
“The thunderclap,” Suiden said.
I nodded again, staring at the floor.
The captains were quiet again.
“You do look like hell, Lieutenant Rabbit,” Suiden said, “but we think that it would be good for you to get out. So you will go on this shopping trip.”
I lifted my head.
“You will stay with me at all times,” Javes said. “No wandering off, no matter how pretty the clothes in the window, what?” I nodded again and Captain Javes laid the leaves back on the table.
“You say that the Faena has nothing to do with the strangeness that’s been happening,” Suiden said. “Perhaps that’s true, but it’s very coincidental that it started just when he showed up, including all that is going on with you.” He paused. “And lord or not, newbie mage or not, runaway apprentice, pacts and feathers, smuggling and threats of war, you are still under my command. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Suiden declared that Jeff would also go with Javes, and sent both of us back up to our bedroom where we discovered new hot-weather uniforms waiting for us. Instead of the usual helm or cap, there was a hat with a broad brim in the front to shade the face, and a flap in the back to protect the neck from the sun. The uniform itself was made of a material that was very light, allowing any stray breeze to wrap around the body before going on its way. We both sighed with relief when we donned the new uniforms, as the ones from Freston felt, in the humid heat, like a wet blanket.
“It’s cotton, Lieutenant,” a southie trooper said when he overheard me wonder what it was.
It was still early, the sun just clearing the roofs as Jeff and I followed Captain Javes out of the embassy to our waiting horses. Javes was wearing the same broad- brimmed hat and cotton uniform we wore, but he had augmented it with his Habbs boots, his gold filigreed sword, and a light cape. And of course, his quiz glass, hung by its ribbon around his neck.
We mounted our horses and Javes turned his to face us.
For once, there wasn’t anything silly in his expression as his eyes rested on Jeff and me, and we straightened in our saddles as we gave him our full attention. A breeze stirred the captain’s cape for a moment, then was still.
“We are about to go into places fraught with pitfalls and snares, lads, which have destroyed better men than us.” We nodded, wide-eyed.
“Our enemy is swift and crafty, and you will meet with cunning beyond comprehension.”
Our eyes grew wider.
“It’s therefore imperative that, one, you stay in the middle of each shop we enter and not—I repeat—not touch anything. Two, you will keep silent until I give you permission to speak. Three, no matter what the shopkeeper may claim to have in his back room, you will not go in there. And, four, you will not accept any offers of sisters, daughters, cousins, nieces, or any other female relative, no matter what the inducement offered.” Jeff and I looked at each other, desperate to know what was in the back rooms and what did the female relatives look like.
Javes smiled. “Unless, of course, you want to get married.”
Scratch the sisters.
The captain led us through broad boulevards and avenues, our horses’ hooves clopping on the cobbled streets. There were others about and the closer we got to the market streets, the busier it became, as people conducted their business in the cool of the morning. Soon our horses were on a street full of just opened shops. I craned my neck, trying to find a tailor.
“Patience, Lieutenant,” Javes said, riding beside me. “First things first.”
“Yes, sir.” I ignored the rude noises behind me.
We rounded a corner and in the shop windows were elaborately carved chairs, tables, and cabinets. Javes read the discreet signs that hung over the doors, stopping at one that said GUAREZ AND SONS and beneath that in smaller letters BY ROYAL APPOINTMENT. We dismounted and entered, a bell ringing over the door as we opened it. Instead of the instant appearance of the shopkeeper, though, we were left alone to appreciate the fragrance of beeswax and lemon, the feel of a soft, deep-pile carpet, and the ambiance of quiet elegance. Jeff and I huddled in the middle of the room while Javes strolled about, looking over the pieces.