The Prodigal Mage: Fisherman’s Children Book One (20 page)

Fernel Pintte froze in mid-stride, turned stone-still with one word.

As Beale and Polly cried out a protest, and blind Jinny gasped, and Dathne dropped back to the footstool, pale with despair and staring at the carpet, Asher wandered over to Fernel and frowned into the man’s rigid face.

“There now, see?” he said, sounding mildly peeved. But Pellen, who knew him, could hear the killing fury beneath the words. “You made me use magic on you, Fernel. I ain’t fond of usin’ magic on folk. It makes me feel manky. And I don’t like feelin’ manky. So just you lissen a bit while I tell you what’s what.”

Dathne looked up. “Asher…”

He lifted a finger at her, never taking his cold gaze from Fernel Pintte’s wide, unblinking eyes. “I meant what I said, before. You can think what you like. I ain’t about to stop you. You be a free man, in a free land. But if I hear you rousin’ up other folk to hate, Fernel? If I hear you agitatin’ of an evening down your local alehouse, how Lur’d be better off if all them pesky Doranen got ’emselves tossed over the mountains or beyond Dragonteeth Reef? And you know I will hear, Fernel. You know I hear everythin’, sooner or later. Well, if I hear owt of that I reckon I might be a bit fratched. Reckon I might have to come pay you a visit.” He leaned close. “Fernel? You don’t want me payin’ you a visit. You don’t want me gettin’
riled
. The last man who got me riled were Morg. Didn’t end well for him. Reckon you might not want to make his mistake.”

Pellen swallowed, feeling ice slide through his veins. The cheerful parlour crackled with menace.

“Vardo,”
said Asher, and took a step back.

Sickly white and slicked with sweat, Fernel Pintte stared at Asher in silence. Tried to speak. Could only stutter.

“Well?” said Asher. “What you waitin’ for? Off you go.”

Fernel Pintte ran.

*   *   *

“He’s not a bad fellow, really,” said Beale at last, breaking the taut silence. “He just takes things to heart. Always has.”

Pellen exchanged a raised-eyebrow look with Asher, then turned to the old man. “How well do you know him?”

Beale sighed. “Well enough to know he’s mostly talk and very little action.”

“And we’re to take your word on that, are we?” Dathne said dully. “We’re to trust him? After what he’s said?”

“Fernel only said what some of us think,” Polly snapped. “Perhaps if you spent less time in the City and more time talking to regular Olken you’d not be so surprised.”

“And what’s
that
supposed to mean?” said Dathne, stung.

“It means we’re shocked and upset,” Jinny said, before Polly could answer. “Please, we didn’t gather here to talk of Fernel’s obsession with the Olken people’s lost heritage. Our concerns are far greater than that. What are we to do about this—this
wrongness
in the earth? The imbalance we feel must be put right. I fear a calamity for everyone in Lur if we don’t.”

“You assume it
can
be put right, Jinny,” said Beale, and looked at Asher. “Can it? Or are we just spitting in the wind?”

“I don’t know,” said Asher, shrugging. “Reckon all I aimed for in meetin’ you here was to make sure I ain’t been imaginin’ things. Didn’t reckon you’d expect me to snap m’fingers and fix whatever’s the matter this time.” He snorted. “Like magic.”

“It pleases you to be
snide?
” said Beale, his lined face lining deeper with displeasure. “When this poor land of ours is groaning in pain, you think—”

“He doesn’t mean it like that, Beale,” said Dathne quickly. “He’s just being Asher. Of
course
he’s worried about—”

“Don’t reckon I need you speakin’ up for me, Dath,” said Asher, frowning again. “Reckon I’m growed enough to speak for m’self. Any road, ole Beale here’s just fratchin’ at me ’cause he’s scared spitless we got more trouble.”

“And why wouldn’t I be afraid?” Beale demanded. “When you can make light of what’s happening? Our lives were built on faith in you. On believing that you’d save this kingdom from destruction. Fernel might be misguided, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. A lot of good people gave up any hope of true peace, true happiness, so you might fulfill your destined purpose. Years and years of sacrifice, Asher. Years that did not leave us untouched.”

“Years I never bloody asked you for!”
Asher spat at the old man. “So don’t you go throwin’ ’em in my face! Sink me bloody sideways, you think
I
wanted any of this?
I
had a life!
I
had plans! But you and your bloody Circle, that ole besom Veira, you had
other
plans. And I did what you wanted. I saved the bloody kingdom. Killed my best friend to do it, too. So don’t you sit there on your skinny ole arse waggin’ your finger at
me!
Not when you be expectin’ me to save Lur
again!
”

Silence, ragged and raw. Pellen, heartsick, watched as Asher turned his back on the room, his breathing harsh. Dathne pressed her fingertips to her closed eyes, trying to contain tears. Polly, not trying, took a kerchief from her purse. Blind Jinny smoothed her green wool skirt over and over her knees. Then, neatly, precisely, she folded her hands in her lap.

“You’ve yet to tell us what you’ve felt, Asher,” she said softly. “Like it or not, you are the Innocent Mage. The most powerful Olken magician in Lur. What has the earth been whispering to
you?
”

Asher hesitated, then turned round. Shoved his hands in his pockets, his face settling into that familiar, belligerent scowl. Pellen looked from him to Dathne. Her lips were pressed tight, her arms folding as though to contain some bitter pain within her belly. He felt a fresh wave of unease flood through him.

Whatever they know, it’s very, very bad. I wonder if I’m strong enough for the truth?

“Asher?” said Beale. Awkward with age he levered himself to his feet. In his chaotically lined face, a dawning suspicion. “That’s a fair question. Why don’t you answer it? What do you feel?”

“I’m thinkin’,” said Asher, his voice still edged. “Some things ain’t easy to put into words, Beale. I ain’t no Fernel bloody Pintte. I ain’t never had the slickest of tongues.”

“What about you, Dathne?” said Polly. Tears dried, her plump, soft sorrow had hardened into a brittle wariness. “As Jervale’s Heir you were gifted with visions. What have they shown you? What do
you
believe is happening in Lur?”

“I’ve had no visions since before Morg was killed,” said Dathne. “I’m Jervale’s Heir no longer. Not in that sense. Like you I’m an Olken mage with ties to the land. But I never had the greatest reading of it. All I know is what you all know, that Lur has been peacefully sleeping for the last ten years… and now it stirs to waking.”

“Waking to what?” Jinny whispered. “I thought the fear and destruction of the Final Days were behind us. Was I wrong? Is the worst yet to come?”

“Asher,”
said Beale. “Slick or not, it’s time you wagged that tongue of yours. When you needed the Circle, the Circle was there for you. Some of us, like Jinny here, like poor Veira and her kinsman, Rafel, and your friend Matthias, paid a dreadful price for their help. Here’s your chance to repay that debt. Tell us what you know. Tell us what you
think
you know and what your intentions are. Honour the sacrifices we made for you.”

Asher flinched as though Beale had struck him. No outburst of anger this time, no flood of furious words. Dathne choked out a small cry of protest, seeing the pain that lit up Asher’s eyes like lightning in an inky sky.

“You want me to say any ole thing?” he said, holding Beale’s accusing stare. “Say what’ll ease you, be it honest or not?”

“Of course not!” cried Polly, and pushed herself to stand close-pressed beside Beale. “What we want is your respect. You asked us to come here and we came, without question or care for how inconvenient it’s been. You asked us to tell you what we’ve felt, and we told you. Now it’s your turn.”

“And if you won’t tell us,” said Jinny quietly, as she too found her feet, “we’ll leave. And the next time you need our help you’ll ask for it in vain.”

It was a long time since Pellen had seen Asher looking cornered. Uncomfortably reminded of days he thought he’d thrust well behind him, he took refuge in staring at the floor. Dared one upwards glance, at Dathne, and saw that she too could not bring herself to witness Asher’s pained dismay. Her gaze was fixed unwavering to her knees.

Then Asher sighed. “You reckon I got all the answers just ’cause once upon a time I fit the shape of your bloody prophecy? Sorry, Jinny. It don’t work like that. Somehow, and I ain’t got the first clue why, I can do a few Doranen tricks. Don’t make me all-knowing. Don’t bloody make me Barl.”

“I don’t recall any of us saying it did,” Beale said.

Asher snorted. “Maybe not. But I reckon you been thinkin’ it.” He shook his head. “Look. Ole man. I can feel what you feel. Somethin’ ain’t right. But that’s
it
. Don’t you reckon if I had all the bloody answers I’d have left you alone? You reckon I don’t know what I owe you three? And aye, Fernel Pintte. You reckon there’s a day goes by I don’t say sorry to Veira and Rafel and Matt, that they had to
die
for me? You reckon I
wanted
that? That I wanted Pellen, here, to get hisself crippled?”

Pellen looked up sharply. “I was Dorana’s Captain of the Guard. I fought for my City and our kingdom. I don’t regret that. And I don’t need your regret, either.”

Startled, Asher stared at him. “Pellen—”

“Oh, be quiet,” he said. “Sometimes you make me very tired, Asher.” He looked at Beale. “You three—four—were asked here today because we needed your insights. You’ve shared them with us and we’re grateful to you. As Mayor of Dorana I extend my official thanks. And I ask that you keep what we’ve discussed here privy.”

“We know how to keep secrets,” said Polly dryly. “And our Circle oaths still stand. But it’s almost certain there’ll be others who’ve felt things and they’re bound by no promises to keep those feelings to themselves.”

Pellen nodded. “I know. But unless I’ve badly misread the situation, I think we’ve a little time before private misgivings turn into widespread public panic. We’ll use that time wisely, I promise, to discover the cause of these ructions you’ve felt.”

“And that’s an official promise, is it?” she said, sniffing. “From the Mayor of Dorana?” Her gaze flicked sideways. “And the Innocent Mage?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

With a sigh, Dathne at last rose from the footstool and let her weary gaze touch their three visitors’ faces. “You’re probably cursing me for dragging you here. For playing on past loyalties and making you face a darkness you’d hoped was nothing but your imagination. I’m sorry. I am. More than anything else I don’t want this to be true.”

“None of us does,” said Beale. “But Prophecy never covered this possibility, did it?”

Dathne sighed, so sad. “No, Beale. It never did.”

“You hadn’t a choice, Dathne,” said Jinny. “You had to call us. And we had to come.”

“But Jinny’s right,” added Polly, a warning glint in her eyes. “We won’t be taken for granted.”

“I never meant to do that,” said Asher, scowling again. “This business… I be rattled. I thought I were done with prophecy. I thought it were done with
me
. Don’t much like thinkin’ on the chance that ain’t so.”

“None of us much like it, Asher,” said Beale, holding out his hand. “We’re fighting the same fight. Best we not fight each other as well.”

Relieved, Pellen watched Asher cross the parlour and take the old man’s hand in a firm clasp. “No, Beale. Best not.” He let go. “So. If we are lookin’ to fight another battle, can I count on you?”

As Beale and Polly exchanged looks, Jinny nodded. “Of course,” she said firmly. “We were born to the Circle, Asher, and we’ll die in its service. Just as one day you’ll die the Innocent Mage, even though you never wanted that and resent what it means with every breath you take.”

“Thank you for coming,” said Pellen. “Thank you for trusting us.”

“We have to trust each other, Pellen,” said Polly, her lips trembling. “We have to trust there’s a way out of this. I can’t believe we defeated Morg only to see Lur crumble so soon after. I can’t believe that’s what Jervale had in mind.”

“It’s not,” said Dathne. “Perhaps it’s just…” She cleared her throat. “Perhaps we relaxed too soon.”

“What of the Doranen?” Beale asked. “We can’t leave them ignorant forever.”

Asher shrugged. “They be my problem, I reckon. You leave ’em to me.”

“And Fernel?” Pellen added, frowning at the Circle members. “I know he’s your friend. I know you’re loyal to him, and why. Believe me, I don’t wish to come between you. But what he said here today, well, I’ll not deny it disturbs me. I’ve a nose for trouble… and troublemakers. Your friend doesn’t strike me as the type to keep his grievances to himself.” He glanced at Asher, then looked back. “Even though he was warned.”

“I know Fernel best,” said Polly. “We’re less than a day’s cart ride distant from each other. I’ll hear soon enough if he’s stirring up mischief. But I can’t honestly believe that he’d—”

“You’d best believe he might,” said Asher. “Pellen ain’t never wrong about this kind of thing.” Then he pulled a face. “Well. Almost never.”

And that was a sly dig at their own complicated past. Pellen, sparing him a pointed look, offered Polly a smile. “I hope you’re right. But if you should feel uneasy, or hear anything untoward…”