‘I would much prefer to talk to you face to face,’ Velindre called out with all the dignity she could muster. She scanned the water and the valley in the fast-fading dusk. How far was it to the edge of the lake? Could she rely on the air to cany her over such an expanse of magically malevolent water? There was no point in even thinking of working a water magic through her own sympathy with that element. She could never hope to wrest any control from Azazir.
‘How would you recognise my face?’ Cruel laughter rippled through the words.
‘I wouldn’t, obviously.’ Velindre looked around in vain to see where the voice was coming from. ‘The Council of Hadrumal hasn’t seen fit to hang your portrait in any of the halls,’ she added tartly.
‘The Council of Hadrumal doubtless thinks I’m dead, if they think of me at all.’ There was an undercurrent of menace in the breathless words. ‘And I don’t imagine you’re here with their blessing. What’s to stop me killing you?’
‘I’ll do my level best, for a start.’ Velindre seized her chance and wrapped herself in a web of bright-blue magic. It wasn’t warmth but it was better than nothing. She had to ward off the cold somehow or that would be the death of her, never mind this mysterious wizard. ‘Besides, kill me and you’ll never know what brought me here.’
‘What makes you think I would care?’ the voice queried.
‘Otrick’s diaries,’ she shot back. ‘His writings say you were a mage who never let a question go unanswered.’
‘Why are you reading Otrick’s diaries? Did he send you here?’ The voice was right behind her.
Velindre skidded around on her knees and gasped. A man was standing on the surface of the lake. Or at least, the translucent form of a thin, wiry man had risen out of the water, entirely naked, with a semblance of a long beard and straggly hair flowing back into the effigy. Currents of green magic fleeted within the shape, momentarily mimicking blood and bone before disappearing. The apparition opened its mouth.
‘Did Otrick send you?’ Azazir repeated, with an emerald flash in his colourless eyes.
‘Otrick is dead.’ The admission was startled out of Velindre. She bit her cold, wet lip and found her face was too numb for her to feel it.
‘Is he?’ Azazir didn’t sound overly concerned. ‘He taught you, didn’t he? I can see his quirks in your magic’
‘Yes, he taught me.’ Velindre nodded jerkily. But not everything he knew. Not everything the two of you knew.
There’s more I want to learn.’
‘You have a powerful affinity,’ Azazir remarked, coming close to the sapphire magic that surrounded her. Green radiance pulsed and faded within his watery body. ‘Like Otrick. But do you understand, like he did?’
‘Understand what?’ asked Velindre warily, struggling to stop her teeth from chattering. ‘And I won’t understand anything if I freeze to death. I have to get ashore and dry off
Azazir ignored her, stretching out a colourless hand. Do you understand the limits of magic? Do you understand that the only limits are those we impose on ourselves?’ He touched the a2ure magic and the ensor-celled air sank into the waters of the lake. Velindre gasped as the fierce cold bit deeper than ever into her drenched, inadequate clothing.
‘Hush,’ whispered Azazir, eyes glowing phosphorescent.
The air that Velindre had bound with her sapphire magic rose up from the lake once more. It brought a mist of fine droplets with it, suffused with emerald magelight. The blended magic shimmered turquoise. ‘Did Otrick see it in you?’ Azazir continued, drifting around behind Velindre to reappear on her other side.
‘See what?’ she snapped, doing her best to keep him in sight. It wasn’t easy. Azazir began circling her, his insubstantial feet drifting through the surface of the lake, leaving a trail of emerald radiance sinking away into the depths.
‘Is that why he sent you to me?’ the water wizard mused. ‘To do what he couldn’t? Is that what he sees in you? The courage he never had, to yield, to become one with his element? Is that what you want to learn?’
Velindre felt herself growing dizzy as the aquamarine magic blurred her vision.
‘Because there are marvellous magics to be made when you truly blend the elements, you know,’ he whispered seductively.
‘I want to learn what you know of dragons,’ she said resolutely, trying not to look at him, fumbling for some control over her own element.
‘Of course you do.’ Azazir nodded with a happy smile. ‘Which is why you’ll do what I want. Whatever I want.’
Inside a heartbeat, three things happened. Velindre realised that Azazir was quite insane. She realised that his magic had entirely suffused her own and that she had no idea how to disentangle herself. Then he stepped through the turquoise radiance and seized her, his translucent hands digging into her arms. She gasped with pain and opened her mouth to protest but it was too late. Azazir pressed himself against her and the shape he had adopted was already losing its form as his very substance flowed inexorably into her own.
Chapter Twelve
It’s no good.’ Dev’s voice thickened with frustration. ‘I can’t find her.’ He hunched over the water as he fought with the scrying spell. ‘I can’t even get the spell to hold
Finding his teeth aching, Kheda forced himself to unclench his jaw. He drummed his fingers on the far side of the vast grey marble bath raised in the middle of the floor. The swirls of the polished stone were copied in the smoky tiles of the floor. ‘Try the mirror again.’ He gestured towards the square of steel with its cracked lustre border, half-hidden behind a row of unguent jars painted with the same patterns of reef and sea that decorated the bath chamber’s walls.
‘There’s no hope of fire magic finding her inside Azazir’s influence,’ muttered Dev bitterly, his attention still fixed on the obstinately magic-free water. ‘And if we beat our heads against that truth much longer, we’ll be late for that banquet of yours. Do you want to be discovered at this because some lackey comes to find us?’
‘Would fresh water help?’ Kheda searched his wits for some constructive suggestion.
If we’ve lost this magewoman, where do we look for any help against this dragon?
‘Fresh water?’ Dev looked up with an ill-tempered scowl. ‘It’s not the water and it’s not me. I found Risala for you, didn’t I? You saw her enjoying her pleasure cruise. I told you, it’s Azazir’s—’
‘Hush.’ Kheda was certain he’d heard a footfall. ‘Someone’s coming.’
‘Announce yourself to your lord!’ Dev’s hand went to the scabbarded sword thrust through the sash of his black tunic and he slipped past Kheda to open the door with a jerk.
‘Do we need to be so formal, Kheda?’ A woman stood there looking at Dev, faint curiosity raising her brows.
‘Janne Daish.’ Kheda drew a short, sharp breath before waving her backwards and stalking through the door to the warlord’s private sitting room.
Janne retreated, stopped and wiggled her toes. ‘I do like these floors of wooden blocks,’ she remarked. ‘So much warmer and easier on the feet than tiles.’ She moved towards a thick silk carpet of palest blue piled high with soft sea-green cushions embroidered with clams and sea stars bordered by swaying sea grasses.
‘Through here, if you please, Janne Daish.’ Kheda waited in the arch between this inner chamber and the warlord’s anteroom where chests of ebony and ironwood stood in the corners between low tables set with alabaster vases bright with fresh flowers. There was a vivid white and gold carpet but no cushions for waiting visitors. He inclined his head, stopping well short of a bow. ‘To what do I owe this unexpected visit?’
Unexpected and unwelcome. What do you want?
She smiled with amiable tolerance for the edge in his voice as she strolled into the anteroom. ‘After everything Rekha said about how splendidly Itrac has restored these residences, I had to come and see for myself.’
‘Forgive me.’ Kheda smiled thinly. ‘I didn’t mean your visit to the domain. I meant your appearing here, in my apartments. You and Rekha seem to have become very casual about etiquette of late.’ Janne looked sharply at Dev, who was waiting in the archway to the inner chamber, head bowed, every measure the attentive slave. ‘You may leave us.’