Cold Magic (Spiritwalker 1)

“Take your choice. Freedom or fetters!”

Bee said, “My cousin and I are leaving. These laborers will go with us, unmolested.”

The mansa looked torn between amusement as at a charming child’s antics and annoyance at her defiance. “No one here can interfere. Four Moons House has a legal contract, made by your elders, that gives your person into our House should we at any time choose to take possession of you. Any court and any jurist will rule in our favor.”

From far away, farther it seemed in that moment than the remembered days of a childhood whose happy security I could never again embrace even in my memories, I heard Adurnam’s bells speak. The bell guarding the temple of the god Ma Bellona, who is valiant at the ford, raised his voice as herald to the crossing from day into night. The sister bells by the river, at the twin temples of Brigantia and Faro, sang out a response in their sopranos.

Bee’s smile flashed triumphantly. “But the gods have ruled otherwise. The bells ring in sunset, and therefore the solstice. I am now twenty, Mansa. Your contract is void.”

32

In the icy twilight, the mansa called cold fire, its eerie glimmer making monsters of the bulky machinery that surrounded us. The laborers caught inside with us murmured in fear.

Bee did not tremble. “I have by law attained my majority. I am thus released from the contract Four Moons House forced on the Hassi Barahals. However, by the laws of my own people, I remain under the guardianship of the Hassi Barahal family. If you wish to discuss a new contract, then you may send representatives to the mother house in Gadir to open negotiations for some manner of agreement between them, you, and me.”

“Pretty words from a pretty girl, but they are foolish as well as ignorant.” His words fell heavily. “Do not doubt, daughter of the Barahals, that you will be pursued by people far less merciful than I am. Do not doubt that there are more people in the world who suspect you exist than you can possibly know. Others will discover you soon enough. The Barahals cannot protect you. You cannot stand against both prince’s court and mage House.”

Bee drew her sketchbook out of the knit bag and held it in her right hand, and his gaze fixed on the book, and his eyes widened as if he guessed what lay within. She spoke. “You are not my master, and you do not rule over me. Nor do you know what I have seen. Do you think you can force me to talk?”

“There are ways to enforce compliance.”

“Yet you might more easily negotiate in good faith. Whyever would you not, when that avenue is open to you? Put me in a cage, Mansa, or sit me across a table. I think you can imagine in which chamber I will prove more cooperative. I can go on a hunger strike just as the poets do. As the Northgate Poet has, in the council square, to force the Prince of Tarrant to listen to his words and to listen to the grievances of the populace. What makes you think I’m not courageous enough to do the same thing?”

Our audience of laborers raised their heads at these words. The soldiers shifted restlessly, for the threat of a public hunger strike was enough to make any powerful lord anxious. Outside, the rumble of the crowd grew more ominous, a few voices crying out, “Burn them!”

The mansa’s cold fire burned more brightly, as if fueled by his anger. But his voice remained soft. “What makes you think the Prince of Tarrant and I cannot simply sweep you up and haul you away? That we will not, for the good of all people?”

“You hear the crowd gathering outside. Do you think they will let me be taken prisoner so easily? The people in that crowd will favor my cause over yours. Do you doubt it?”

“The mob will trample you an hour after they raise you up. If they raise you up and do not simply swallow you whole.”

She raised her chin. “And how, Mansa, is that different from how you and your allies intend to treat me?” Turning, she gestured imperiously to me. “Catherine, come. We are going now.”

I glanced toward Andevai, who looked up to meet my gaze. Something in his look made my heart race, or perhaps it was only the realization that Bee truly meant to defy the mansa, to dare him to stop her in front of witnesses he could easily have killed afterward. No one need ever know what transpired here except his own loyal followers. And Andevai.

She turned her back on him and marched, head high, to the far door in the shadows. Andevai nodded at me, as if to say he would protect our backs. My heart was thudding, like repeated hammer blows; I was almost dizzy with them, with him. I was unsteady, but I gripped the hilt of my sword. And I followed Bee. The soldiers stepped back from the door as if she had commanded them to open a path for her. The mansa said nothing.

Not until we reached and shoved open the heavy door.

“Very well, maestressa.” He did not raise his voice. He had so much power that he need never shout. “My soldiers will escort you to your family’s house, where your father bides. They and the prince’s militia will guard the house so none disturb you. This night and tomorrow are festival days, not an auspicious time to engage in negotiations. On the day after solstice, the Prince of Tarrant and I will call to begin discussions. Do you think that a reasonable compromise? Ah. Listen!”

ansa looked torn between amusement as at a charming child’s antics and annoyance at her defiance. “No one here can interfere. Four Moons House has a legal contract, made by your elders, that gives your person into our House should we at any time choose to take possession of you. Any court and any jurist will rule in our favor.”

From far away, farther it seemed in that moment than the remembered days of a childhood whose happy security I could never again embrace even in my memories, I heard Adurnam’s bells speak. The bell guarding the temple of the god Ma Bellona, who is valiant at the ford, raised his voice as herald to the crossing from day into night. The sister bells by the river, at the twin temples of Brigantia and Faro, sang out a response in their sopranos.

Bee’s smile flashed triumphantly. “But the gods have ruled otherwise. The bells ring in sunset, and therefore the solstice. I am now twenty, Mansa. Your contract is void.”

32

In the icy twilight, the mansa called cold fire, its eerie glimmer making monsters of the bulky machinery that surrounded us. The laborers caught inside with us murmured in fear.

Bee did not tremble. “I have by law attained my majority. I am thus released from the contract Four Moons House forced on the Hassi Barahals. However, by the laws of my own people, I remain under the guardianship of the Hassi Barahal family. If you wish to discuss a new contract, then you may send representatives to the mother house in Gadir to open negotiations for some manner of agreement between them, you, and me.”

“Pretty words from a pretty girl, but they are foolish as well as ignorant.” His words fell heavily. “Do not doubt, daughter of the Barahals, that you will be pursued by people far less merciful than I am. Do not doubt that there are more people in the world who suspect you exist than you can possibly know. Others will discover you soon enough. The Barahals cannot protect you. You cannot stand against both prince’s court and mage House.”

Bee drew her sketchbook out of the knit bag and held it in her right hand, and his gaze fixed on the book, and his eyes widened as if he guessed what lay within. She spoke. “You are not my master, and you do not rule over me. Nor do you know what I have seen. Do you think you can force me to talk?”

“There are ways to enforce compliance.”