Tammy stalked through the halls of the palace, barely noticing the rich decorations all around her. Despite seeing them regularly over the last few weeks she still thought they were gaudy and mismatched. The palace decor reflected none of the character of Perizzi, the capital city, or its people. As the trading heart of the west, Yerskania was a melting pot of cultures, with thousands of visitors passing through every day.
It was perhaps the only place in the world where you could see pale-skinned Zecorrans, horned Morrin, shrewd Drassi, burly Seves and even a few Vorga trading peacefully with one another. Golden-skinned merchants from Shael were dotted throughout the crowd and sometimes a dark-skinned easterner from the desert kingdoms could be seen haggling with the stout locals. With goods from all of those nations it made the port in Perizzi arguably the busiest in the world and yet the city had a unique flavour not found anywhere else.
Perizzi had once been her home, but for the last decade Tammy had been working abroad as a Guardian of the Peace. The Guardians investigated all serious crimes in Yerskania, but they were also unique as other nations sometimes called on their expertise to solve difficult or unusual crimes. Travelling through other countries had given her a deeper understanding of several cultures and, despite their many differences, it allowed her to recognise the commonalities between vastly different human races. She’d spent very little time among the Morrin and no Guardian had ever been invited to the Vorga homeland. Aspects of both races and their cultures remained shrouded in mystery, particularly the savage Vorga, as no outsiders were allowed in their country. Thankfully they tended to keep to themselves and spent as little time in the city as possible, preferring open spaces to the crowded streets.
As the Khevassar, leader of the Guardians, her days of travelling abroad were over and she was slowly becoming reacquainted with the rhythms of the city. As a child she’d run through its streets totally unafraid of the dangers she now realised were lurking in dark corners. That innocence was gone, but her underlying intuition was slowly coming back. It seemed as if it had never really left, merely been buried, gathering dust for many years. For all its flaws she liked her city and in time Tammy hoped it would begin to feel like home again.
Now she was neck deep in the city’s streets, soaking up the crime and chaos, wading through the rivers of information swirling all around her.
Every day she heard fresh rumours about a turf war erupting between the crime Families who controlled the city’s underworld. The stories were vague but nevertheless she listened keenly. Ordinary people were often caught up, on the fringes, of such a violent conflict and she wanted to avoid the death of innocents.
Recently there’d been a lot of talk about groups of people roaming the streets, searching for mages hiding in their midst. There had been a few beatings and one murder of an innocent woman thought to be a Seeker. A few angry groups had even broken into homes, ransacking them in a desperate search for a golden mask. Her Guardians had made several arrests, coming down hard on the ringleaders, and for the time being the problem seemed to have gone away. But she knew people’s resentment of mages ran deep and suspected it had merely gone underground. No one spoke about magic any more but she knew it was still on everyone’s mind. It lay at the heart of many problems that cropped up in her city.
The threat of widescale violence and fear of the unknown. Everything was tied together like a giant invisible web hanging over the city. Pull on one thread and the effects of that decision would be felt in another district. There was a complex pattern behind it and she was trying to become as adept as the Old Man had been at interpreting and even predicting what was about to happen. She had no doubt it would come with time, but even so that didn’t make it any less frustrating. At the moment all she could see were disparate threads in the chaos.
The Khevassar was the hub through which all Guardians communicated. She didn’t see every single report, but received daily summaries of minor cases from which she could still discern relationships. While dealing with all of the local issues, there were ongoing problems abroad, some of which were more pressing than others. Such as the continuing issue with Seekers, the recent destruction of the Red Tower, and the ever-scheming Regent of Zecorria.
It was late at night for a meeting with Queen Morganse but she had asked Tammy to visit her to discuss the mage situation. Dorn, the Queen’s chubby secretary, was yawning as she entered the outer office. His eyes were heavy with sleep and he waved her towards the Queen’s office, not bothering to get up and announce her. His lax attitude irked her but she let it pass, knocked loudly and went inside.
Queen Morganse of Yerskania was sitting behind her desk but for once she wasn’t reading one of the many papers scattered across it. Much to Tammy’s surprise the Queen was knitting. For other grandmothers of her age it was probably a common pastime, but this was the first time she’d seen Morganse aping them. It was more than a little disconcerting to see the Queen doing something so ordinary.
“Please, take a seat,” said the Queen, setting her needles aside. She caught Tammy’s glance at the knitting and offered a wry smile. “Some people pray, some exercise or meditate. I find knitting allows my mind to wander while it keeps my hands busy.”
Unsure of how to respond to that she said nothing. Despite her increasingly long hours Tammy made sure that her exercise regime had not changed. She ran for an hour every morning before breakfast and sparred twice a week with a Drassi Swordsmaster. She knew almost nothing about him and they barely spoke, making him the perfect opponent. They had no emotional attachment to one another which meant she didn’t hold back because of some anecdote he’d told about his family. After a lifetime of carrying a sword he was far more skilled than she, but he helped her stay sharp and in shape. She would never be able to beat him—he was a master of his craft with decades of experience—but that didn’t stop her from trying.
The Queen was looking at Tammy expectantly, waiting for her to say something. Perhaps to reply with a personal anecdote about her hobbies. “I don’t think knitting would suit me” was all she said.
“To business then,” said Morganse, clearly disappointed by her response. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t necessary for them to be friends in order to work together. “Although it does make things easier if we have a rapport,” added the Queen.
“I disagree,” said Tammy, earning another frown.
“Do you have something you want to say?”
“No, your Majesty. You asked me to come to the palace for this meeting. I’m here to talk about magic.”
“Don’t stop there,” said Morganse, sitting back in her chair. “Tell me why you disagree.”
Perhaps it was because she hadn’t slept properly since taking on her new role a few weeks ago. Or that she was afraid of not living up to the Old Man’s reputation. Perhaps it was because there was so much to do each day and not enough hours. Or perhaps it was simply because she disagreed with banning all Seekers in Yerskania. So, for once, Tammy decided to be totally honest and open with the Queen.
“My predecessor has great affection for you. So much so, that I think he was too lenient and it clouded his judgement when it came to his dealings with you.”
“Is that so?” asked the Queen.
“Did you speak to him before signing the national ban on Seekers?”
“I did, and he strongly advised me against it.”
Tammy was appalled. “And yet you still signed it?”
“I weighed his opinion against all of the facts and my other advisers. It was not a decision I made lightly,” admitted Morganse.
“It was a mistake. You panicked and rushed the decision because you were afraid.”
“Careful,” warned the Queen. “There’s a difference between offering your opinion and insubordination.”
Tammy would not be intimidated. “If you expect me to agree every time you ask for my opinion, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
“The Khevassar’s opinion is one among many I consider. Talk to me again about this when you’ve my experience with politics.”
“I’d say the same thing when you’ve my experience with mages,” replied Tammy. She knew the Old Man would have spoken to Morganse about who would replace him one day. Which also meant the Queen would have studied her history in depth. She knew where Tammy had been and what she’d experienced in the last ten years. “Banning all Seekers in Yerskania was the wrong decision.”
An awkward silence settled on the room. Neither was willing to admit that they were wrong. She knew the Queen had rushed into it to give the people the impression of taking affirmative action.
There was a loud knock on the door and a moment later Dorn sidled into the room carrying a stack of papers.
“My apologies, your Majesty, but I have an urgent—” the secretary trailed off as he noticed the frosty atmosphere.
“What is it, Dorn?” asked Morganse, breaking eye contact.
“An urgent report, Majesty. There’s been another attack by the rogue mage, Garvey, and his followers.”
He passed across a small rolled-up note that must have come from the aviary. The Queen scanned the contents and her frown deepened.
“Thank you, Dorn. That will be all.”
He bobbed his head and scuttled out of the room as fast as possible, not wanting to get caught in the middle of their disagreement.
“Garvey has destroyed a small village in the north. He was last seen by a patrol heading towards the border and Zecorria.”
“How many are dead?”
“All of them,” said Morganse, rubbing her temples. “He wiped the whole village off the map. Flattened every building. Killed every man, woman and child. About a hundred people lived in Garrion’s Folly.”
Tammy took a moment to think about the dead and the repercussions of what had happened. It seemed hard to believe that only a few weeks ago he’d been a member of the Grey Council. A trusted figure that leaders would call upon for aid in the most dire of circumstances.
“I’m considering sending soldiers after Garvey and his followers,” declared Morganse.
“I would advise against that, in the strongest possible terms,” said Tammy, trying to keep her voice calm. “It wouldn’t help, it could provoke him and even make things worse. We both know what one competent Battlemage can do against an army. He’s a Sorcerer. Garvey is also said to have a dozen or more followers with him. It would just be another bloodbath.”
The Queen took a deep breath and their staring match resumed before she replied. “Then what would you suggest?”
“Reach out to Balfruss and ask him to help.”
Morganse snorted. “Did you see the report about what happened at the Red Tower?”
“I did, but you weren’t responsible and he knows that, too. Without help from other mages, I’m not sure what could stop Garvey and the others.”
“Do you really think Balfruss would turn on his friend?”
Tammy shook her head. “I don’t know, but Garvey is killing innocent people. Balfruss won’t stand idly by and let that continue. It goes against everything he is.”
“I hope you’re right, because I agree with you. Without some kind of magical intervention, the bloodshed will continue.”
This was a situation neither of them could have predicted and had never dealt with before. Normally at a time like this they would have reached out to the Red Tower who would dispatch someone to deal with the magical threat, but that door was closed. Even if it weren’t, Tammy wasn’t sure they would send someone to help. After all Morganse had brought in a nationwide ban on Seekers. But something needed to be done and Balfruss was their best chance of stopping Garvey.
The situation also made her wonder how something like this had never happened before. With the exception of the Warlock, she couldn’t remember any major incidents where a mage had gone rogue, working against the wishes of the Red Tower. Not every mage went to the school for training and yet there’d never been such a killing spree before. She made a mental note to look into it later. There might be something in the Guardian archives about it.
“In the meantime,” Morganse was saying, “I must be seen to be doing something. I’m going to increase the number of soldiers in the north. It will reassure the local people, if nothing else, unless you object?”
“No, your Majesty.”
“Good. How is the investigation into Habreel’s network?”
Now it was Tammy’s turn to rub her temples. “We’re making progress and have removed several key people. Unfortunately the real target, Akosh, remains hidden and information about her is sketchy. I have some of my people following up on leads.” It felt strange to say that, her people, and it had been even harder to send others out to do the work on her behalf. Normally she would have been one of those riding out of the city to gather information. It was going to take a while for her to get used to delegating as well as who was reliable and who wasn’t trustworthy. “Do you want a full update?”
Morganse waved it away. “No. I just hope that the next time Balfruss makes contact with one of us, we have some good news to share with him about Habreel. It might make him more amenable to your request.”
“I hope so too, Majesty.”
“I have some news from my agents, although I’m not sure if it’s good.” Morganse fished around on her desk until she found a particular letter. They had spoken little about the Queen’s network of spies, but every now and then she would share news from one of them. “The number of attacks on Seekers has fallen across the west, although that’s to be expected given the widescale ban. There have also been no reports of children in Yerskania dying in accidents because of their magic.”
As Tammy’s experience with angry mobs in the city had shown, the decrease in attacks on Seekers meant very little. Any real Seeker with even a drop of common sense would have buried or melted down their golden mask by now.
As for the children many communities liked to deal with their own problems and in the past children were drowned, stoned or hanged if they showed any signs of magic. Without the Seekers there was no way to know how many children were being born with the ability. Out of a sense of shame whole communities swallowed the guilt and buried the truth. It was a dangerous time to be associated with magic in any way.
“I’ve also heard a rumour,” admitted Tammy, deciding to share something although the Queen had not asked. “The Regent of Zecorria is considering a national ban on all mages.”
“There’s truth to that rumour,” said Morganse. “And there’s a note on my desk from him encouraging me, and other leaders in the west, to do the same. ‘To unite against a common and vicious enemy,’ as he puts it.”
“Do I need to tell you what my opinion is of that idea?”
Morganse smiled wryly. “I think I know what you’re going to say. Besides, on that at least we agree. The problem with Garvey needs to be addressed, and soon. However, the ban on Seekers was a temporary measure at best. Banning all magic is a ludicrous idea. It won’t stop children being born with magic.”
“I agree, your Majesty.”
The silence that settled on the room was less painful than before. They might not be friends but perhaps there could be common ground between them.
“It’s late and I think we both need some sleep,” said Morganse. “Keep me updated on any pertinent developments.”
Tammy took the hint and moved to the door, but she paused on the threshold and turned back. “I hope you will also do the same, Majesty.”
The Queen took a deep breath and Tammy expected another reminder from her of who was in charge or that she was overstepping her boundaries. Instead Morganse swallowed whatever she’d been about to say and graciously inclined her head.
“I will do that,” said Morganse. “By the way, I know they always called him the Old Man. Have they come up with a nickname for you?”
“If they have, it can’t be good.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because no one has dared say it to my face,” replied Tammy. She shared a brief smile with the Queen then let herself out. Riona met her at the first gate and the friendly Royal Guard escorted her through the palace.
“Quite the change,” said Riona, gesturing at Tammy’s new Guardian jacket. It was still red and black like the others, but hers was edged in silver instead of black.
“It’s not that different.”
“It does look good on you, but I didn’t mean the jacket,” said Riona, returning Tammy’s sword to her. “I was talking about you.”
It was customary for the Khevassar to go unarmed, but she knew the city had changed a lot since the Old Man had taken on the title and she wasn’t taking any chances. Tammy briefly inspected the plain blade before sheathing it. Its unfamiliar weight was a distraction, but her other sword was special and would draw unwanted attention. There had to be no clues for anyone to tie back to her old life. It was the only way to protect her loved ones.
She waited for Riona to clarify what she meant but then noticed her look. Before Tammy’s promotion they had been contemporaries of a sort, but now Riona’s stare was more formal and less familiar. Thinking back over the last few weeks she realised Riona hadn’t shared any new stories about her family on their frequent walks through the palace. She’d always known taking on the office and title of Khevassar would change how people treated her, but perhaps it had already changed her more than she realised.
The most direct route back to Unity Hall took her along a busy street that was full of noise and bright lights. Taverns at opposite ends of the road were competing for customers with live music and a wide variety of locally brewed beers. Crowds of people drifted from one place to the other in search of the best night out while a squad of the Watch made sure everyone was amicable. All of the soldiers stood to attention as she walked past. Tammy acknowledged the leader but didn’t stop to chat. She heard the beginning of a whispered conversation before leaving the street and knew she was the main topic of conversation. It made her wonder again about the nickname they’d given her.
Despite the late hour the corridors of Unity Hall weren’t silent and were never empty. Guardians drifted in and out at all hours of the night, checking information on old cases, writing up reports and questioning suspects in the cells below. In her outer office Tammy found her assistant, Rummpoe, asleep at her desk amid a stack of papers. A pen was still clutched in one hand and a blot of ink had spread across the top letter.
Tammy gently shook her awake and sent her home to get some sleep. She was more embarrassed at having ruined the report than being found snoring at her desk.
“I’ll make sure it’s written out again, in full, first thing in the morning,” promised Rummpoe.
“That’s fine. Get some rest,” said Tammy, waving her off before unlocking her office. She closed the door behind her, hung her jacket on the back and sat down behind her desk. Tammy closed her eyes for a moment but only to gather her thoughts. She wouldn’t be going to bed for a few hours yet.
“Hello, old friend,” said a familiar voice.
Tammy opened her eyes and saw Balfruss sitting across the desk.