Cold Steel (Spiritwalker 3)

“Taino-ti’, honored queen. May the Good Great Spirit walk with you.”

I lowered the mirror, tucked the skull into the basket, and offered it to Haübey. He took it gravely, but it was Bee he looked at.

“Come back with me, dreamer. You will live in a better place than this, honored among the Taino as a noblewoman. And if not for my sake, then for my brother’s. I happen to know he feels true affection for you although he is not a man to say so.”

“No.” Her hand clasped mine firmly, even if her voice trembled. “My home is with Cat.”

“We have to go,” I said. And so we did, gathering Rory as we left.

“Where are the cold mages being held prisoner?” I asked an orderly, who directed me to a sergeant, who informed me they were being held in custody at the rear hospital. It was too far away; we didn’t have time; we couldn’t save everyone.

We walked north along the Cena Road to Lutetia. Bee’s honey voice talked us through the barricade because they recognized her from her work with the radicals. How long ago it seemed that I had fled Two Gourds House and Vai had come to the inn looking for me. What if we had separated in anger, and had never spoken again?

“Cat, dearest, let me help you.” Bee steadied me as I stumbled.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bee.”

“I’ll always be with you, dearest.”

We reached the forecourt gates of Two Gourds House at daybreak. The compound was surrounded by armed citizenry, not hostile but definitely vigilant. In the forecourt mage troops stood guard. Their captain made us wait on the entry steps in the morning sun. The mansa of Four Moons House himself appeared with his djeli at his side and his repugnant nephew dogging his heels as if hoping for a scrap of meat. The mansa had sustained a gash on his chin. His left arm was in a sling. Yet he looked imposing in a formal indigo robe whose sleeves swept the ground as he strode down the forecourt steps and grasped my hand, speaking to me with his own voice.

“Catherine! Explain yourself!”

“I told you the village boy meant all along to betray us,” broke in the nephew, in a sour tone. “He is probably dining with General Camjiata right now.”

“People do not sit down to dinner in the morning,” I snapped.

“Silence, boy!” said the mansa to his nephew before turning to me. “Catherine, please disabuse yourself of any belief that I am angry at Andevai. He saved many lives yesterday. If the tide of fire magic grew too strong for one of the others, Andevai would pull it into himself by the craft he learned from the Taino. He risked more than anyone else.”

The nephew hunkered down as if enduring a rancid smell, his mouth shut for once.

“Was it Andevai’s storm that quenched the fire that would have burned the city?” I asked.

The mansa’s voice was hard, his manner impatient and proud. How like Vai he seemed, although I could not tell what emotions surged beneath the garment of his arrogance. “Andevai is not the only powerful cold mage. That was my storm, in concert with Mansa Viridor. But I must ask, was it all a ruse? Did you plan this victory with General Camjiata? I regret I could not recognize Andevai’s worth until it was too late to bring him to trust me.”

“You still don’t understand him, Mansa. He respects you more than he will ever express to you. He was able to look past the scorn and contempt he endured and admire your strength and consistency in your rule over Four Moons House. Not every mansa would have educated the village boy with the sons of the mage House. You didn’t do what you ought to have done to stop their cruel bullying, but you did not force him to stand at the end of the line when he had earned the right to stand at the head. That is why he fought for the mage House as well as for the sake of his village. And, I admit, for his own pride, which as we both know is as vast as the heavens. Will you help me get him back?”

His gaze no longer frightened me because I understood him better now: He was a man who saw the world purely through the lens of his birth and his House.

“Where do you think he is?”

“James Drake has deserted General Camjiata’s army and taken Vai prisoner. I believe Drake is going home to the Ordovici Confederation to get revenge on his family. Vai’s cold magic makes Vai a powerful catch-fire. Imagine how powerful he will make Drake’s fire magic.”

Bee took hold of my hand. “Do you really suppose Drake can defeat Andevai? Were I a betting woman, I would put my money on Andevai.”

“So would I, were it a duel between the two of them. But Drake has surely taken the most loyal of his fire mages with him to do his bidding. If I were Drake, I would have fire mages pouring backlash into Vai day and night to keep him incapacitated. Even Vai can’t fight all of them. And he’ll try to protect whatever other catch-fires Drake may have in his keeping.”

The mansa gestured toward his steward. “I am not willing to sit idly by while Four Moons House is insulted in this egregious manner! But we have only a handful of horses left in this compound and they are either wounded or broken down from being overworked yesterday. I am told that General Camjiata has taken every able-bodied horse off the field. And since we magisters are trapped here, the citizens of Lutetia have no doubt rounded up the rest.” He laughed in a manner that annoyed me. “There is your revolution for you. Trapped in our own House and yet not one word of thanks from the local citizens for the death and injury we took on ourselves that spared the city of Lutetia from being burned to the ground and ravaged. Rather, they treat us as if we are the ones who assaulted them and started this war!”

Bee glanced toward the compound gate. “I can negotiate with the citizens’ council…”

A full-length mirror hung opposite the main doors in the entry hall.

“I have a better idea,” I said. “But first, may we change out of these clothes and wash and eat something? Before we depart?”

Though in mourning, the residents of Two Gourds House treated us with every courtesy and were expeditious in bringing wash water and food. I did not inform them that I was the person who had killed their master. I didn’t want Bee to know. I almost wept when a steward brought me the spruce-green skirt and resewn cuirassier’s jacket, cleaned and ironed. I demanded provisions be brought. Back in the entrance hall the mansa and his attendants and soldiers had gotten into their riding clothes and uniforms, for they believed we would be traveling on horseback.

“If you will, Mansa, can you give me a tiny bit of cold magic?”