Interesting Politics

Maybe I should have just went along with the whole thing. Vak promised he’d get me out. “Oh, like you did last time?” I asked him, furious that he would even suggest I be caught again.
　
“That was different, Rakayl. This wouldn’t be you really being captured, just allowing yourself to get taken in. And there‘d be all kinds of fuss made over the criminal who obliterated an entire plantation, and just think of what I could do in the distraction. ”
　
But I refused out of hand. So the bastard betrayed me, and there I was sitting in a cell hoping that he would get me out even though I didn’t agree to the damn plan--if you can even call it a plan.
　
I’d known Vak for a long time, and we’re friends, sometimes, and occasionally more than friends. But I didn’t trust him, or rather, I knew he wasn’t trustworthy. I didn’t blame him--I’m hardly a paragon of loyalty and honesty myself. But I was not going to depend on Vak rescuing me. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to stay in the dungeon, or let myself be sold or executed. And if I hung around long enough to be tried, I’d be executed.
　
The problem was, I had no idea how to escape. I wasn’t just in any common jail, but the best guarded dungeon in Balirmind, deep underneath the castle. The walls and floor and ceiling were solid stone, the door heavy iron, with a window too small to fit through, and barred to boot. Heavily armed guards paced outside the cell. I’d sworn that I’d learn to be able to escape if I was ever captured again, but though I’d learned how to take down basic wards and magic barriers, it would be of no use.
　
So I’d have to escape through subterfuge. Vak had been right, when he said that my capture would cause a fuss. A constant stream of people came to peer at me through the window. King Narden, a very young man who’d only recently been crowned, came by several times, as did various government officials, relatives of my so-called victims, and concerned or merely curious citizens.
　
At first, I sat in the back corner of the cell, thinking and plotting and pretending to ignore everyone who came by, though actually studying them carefully. Sir Briyad, the man I finally settled on, was well dressed and had an aura of power--probably one of the king’s more important ministers. He was clearly wealthy, and wealthy men tend to be greedy. And the greedy are easy to manipulate.
　
I went to the door and said quietly, through the window, “Do you know why I’m here?”
　
“Because you’re a mass murderer who destroyed an entire plantation.”
　
“Surely you don’t really believe I could have done that,” I scoffed. “Everyone knows that it was the king of Majardea that did it.” For that was the rumor, in Balirmind.
　
“He swears he didn’t.”
　
“You can’t expect him to admit to mass murder, can you?”
　
“Just saying I believed you--which I’m not--why are you here, then?”
　
“Well, it was my, erm, friend. See, he has… something he shouldn’t, something valuable, and I know about it, so he made up that whole story about me being behind all that so I’d be put away and nobody would believe anything I say. Seems like it’s working pretty well, wouldn’t you say?”
　
“I never said I don’t believe you--” Sir Briyad assured me hurriedly. I smiled inwardly. “What specifically is the valuable object your friend has?”
　
I leaned forward, and whispered, “The Mirror of Azerbjingardolinderia.” I was even telling the truth, for the most part.
　
He was hooked, of course, and the next time the guards brought my food, they “accidentally” forgot to lock the cell door. I slipped out, climbed the stairs out of the dungeons, and snuck out of the castle through a side door.
　
Vak was waiting directly outside it. “You bitch,” he said.
　
“You’re the asshole who had me arrested!” I retorted, and tried to step past him. He blocked my path.
　
“You had my mirror stolen. don’t you even realize what you’ve done? Now not only do I not have it, but some Balirmindian noble does!”
　
“Your loss.”
　
“Actually, it’s not. I have the king.”
　
“What?”
　
Vak gestured to a small copse along the castle wall. I stalked over and found the young king of Balirmind tied to a tree. “So just go back in and tell your little friend that if he values his king’s life, he’ll give back the mirror.”
　
“Tell him yourself! I’ve no love for anyone in Balirmind, most especially the king.”
　
“Fine. Guard him, then.” Vak handed me a knife and went inside the castle.
　
It was true that I had no love for King Narden, but I wasn’t feeling particularly happy with Vak at the moment, either, so as soon as Vak was inside, I cut the king’s ropes. I then pointed the dagger at him. “Get away before I change my mind,” I growled. He obeyed. “And you should really put an end to slavery!” I called after him. He glanced back, surprised, then disappeared into the castle. I began to walk down the road.
　
Vak caught up with me about ten minutes later. “I have it!” he announced, flashing about the mirror. He stopped suddenly. “This isn’t it!”
　
“Your own damn fault for not checking,” I said.
　
“Why the hell did you let the king go? Didn’t you realize we could have ransomed him off for a lot more than the mirror--than a fake mirror?”
　
“Maybe you should have kept a closer eye on him, then. So what, you lost the mirror, it’s not like you really need it; I mean, what good is a mirror that shows the future when you don’t actually plan things out in advance?”
　
He ignored me. “I’m going to get it back.”
　
“I’m not stopping you.”
　
“I didn’t spend all the time you were locked up kidnapping the king. I looted the treasury bit as well. Shockingly easy, really. I didn’t take everything, of course, but I must have a good three sacks of gold and jewels. If you help me with this, I’ll split it with you.”
　
“You already owe me.”
　
“You owe me, actually, after arranging for someone to steal the mirror!”
　
“You owe me for getting me arrested; that was payback, and you’re going to get the mirror back anyway! And if I go back in there, I’ll be arrested again.”
　
“Fine, wait here, and I’ll take you to where the money is when I get back.”
　
“And I get half.”
　
“Yes, fine, if you’ll stop being so mad about the whole getting you captured thing.” He went back into the castle.
　
I almost just left, but I really did want the money, so I waited. And waited. It was several hours before Vak returned, dragging Sir Briyad along with him. “This oaf of a scum ball claims he doesn’t have it!”
　
“I gave it to you! If you lost it, that’s your problem.”
　
“You gave me this!” Vak shoved the fake mirror at Sir Briyad.
　
“Yes; that’s what I took from you!”
　
“It is not!”
　
“Yes it--”
　
“Is not!” Vak turned to me. “I searched him and everything; he must have hidden it somewhere, or given it to someone--”
　
“I gave it to you!”
　
“Or, he’s telling the truth,” I suggested to Vak.
　
“He is not. If I don’t get the goddamn mirror back….”
　
“Then you’ll have to go back to not always winning your bets. Find it or don’t, I hardly care.”
　
I thought about waiting around to follow Vak to his loot, but decided that would be more trouble than it was worth and that I really just wanted to be out of Balirmind. So I picked a few pockets to get enough money to leave the country, and was on the next ship to Majardea.
　
About a week later, Zyre, a friend of mine, came up to me in the Cat’s Corpse. “Rakayl! You know that mirror that we helped Vak steal?”
　
“If you’re going to tell me he lost it, I already know.”
　
“I bet you don’t already know that the king of Balirmind has it!”
　
I took a long sip of my drink to hide what I was feeling, and all I said was, “That’s going to make for some interesting politics, don’t you think?”

The Crown

"What happened, Malexandra?” Anonymous demanded, rushing across the lawn to the dark corner she was standing in. “Don't tell me nothing- something happened, something huge and horrible- I can still feel it."

"Of course something happened, and I wouldn't tell you otherwise, but this is hardly the place. Come with me." Without giving him a chance to respond, she hooked arms with him and began to walk, saying loudly, "I know some people think the Jaelic style is more elegant, but you know how I prefer actual aesthetic beauty over whatever happens to be the style of the hour, surely you agree?" Some of the elegantly dressed people sipping drinks turned to look as they walked past, but there was nothing unusual in her manner. She was speaking in the exact way she did when she really was drunk- she did such a perfect imitation of her intoxicated self that he began to wonder if she really had been under the influence any of the times he'd thought she had been. He wouldn't really be surprised if those times were as fake as this, knowing her.

"I don't give a toss about that kind of thing!" he replied loudly, slurring his words.

"No, but surely even a philistine like you can't find anything to appreciate in it. Even if you don't like the one, anyone must agree that the other is even more undesirable-" They were past the people now, and she abruptly cut off her sentence, let go of his arm, and led him up into the tower.

They climbed the stairs in silence. It was not until she'd led him into the room at the top of the tower, barred the door, and checked under the bed for good measure that she finally returned to their true topic of conversation. "Yes. Something's happened."

He waited just a moment, then said, "I knew that."
"Yes. I'm just not sure how to say it."

That surprised him- he'd never seen her at a loss for words, and could hardly imagine it.

“He used the crown.”

Anonymous paled. “He wouldn’t! And even if for some reason he felt he had to, he’d consult with me first! Malexandra, whatever you think of him, Skyler is a good king and he would not unleash that if it weren’t utterly necessary. And anyway, he couldn’t have used it, he’s on the way to my party!”

Malexandra was unfazed. “What else could have done that, then?”

“Any number of things. The crown’s not the only thing with that much power. It hasn’t been used since Skyler’s great-grandfather’s time, Malexandra, and then only during the worst war the world’s ever seen. We aren’t even at war now. Why would he s use it?”

“Let’s go ask him,” said Malexandra, gesturing towards the window. Anonymous looked out and saw the king approaching the party.

“I will do the talking,” Anonymous told Malexandra firmly as they climbed down the tower stairs. “I have no wish to see you executed.” He knew Malexandra too well to take her silence for consent, but he’d warned her, and he’d try to stop her from saying anything treasonous.

They met King Skyler on the lawn. He was about twenty five, and looked the part of king. Anonymous introduced Malexandra to him. She did not curtsey or bow, but didn’t say anything rude either, which was about as much as Anonymous could hope for.

“I’m pleased to finally meet you in person,” King Skyler said to Malexandra. “Anonymous, how did you do it with the floating lights? It’s a great effect, I might copy it sometime if you don’t mind.”

“We are not here to talk about the decorations,” Malexandra snapped coldly.

“Something’s happened,” Anonymous told the king before he could react to Malexandra.

“He knows,” said Malexandra. To the king, she demanded, “What the hell were you thinking?”

Skyler blinked several times. “I beg your pardon?”

Malexandra merely stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s about the crown,” Anonymous began, but broke off when Skyler’s expression changed to one of utter shock.

“How did you know?” the king whispered.

“How did we know? How did we know?” Malexandra said angrily. “How can you have expected anyone not to know? Did you really think that you could use that much power and nobody would know?”

Skyler’s expression grew even more shocked. “You mean… you mean it was used?”

“You didn’t know,” Malexandra stated. “But what else could it be? You didn’t use the crown, the Talisman was destroyed, the Locket of Amir is… safe. There isn’t anything else with that much power.”

But Skyler was shaking his head. “I didn’t use the crown. Someone else must have. It was stolen.”

“When?” Anonymous asked him.

“Last week. I was keeping it quiet. I assumed it had been stolen for the jewels; I never thought anyone would use it. Do you have any idea of the destruction it can cause?”

“I was there last time it was used,” Malexandra said.

“But that was a hundred years ago!”

“Yes,” she agreed matter-of-factly. “Have you tried scrying for it?”

“It can’t be scried for,” Anonymous told her. “That way a king can wear it and not be found by enemy magics.”

“Ah. How unscryable is it?”

“We did some experiments a few years ago. It’s beyond my power to find it, or anyone wearing it.”

“Past, present, and future?”

“Um… I only tried finding it in the present. But the past would be no help, and even ordinarily it’s hard to see into the future.”

Malexandra ignored that. “We’ll have to go back to my place, then; there’s too much going on here to do such a delicate spell.”

“I’ve never been to the Magiary,” King Skyler said with interest.

“And you never will,” Malexandra told him.

“I could make you let me in.”

“You could try.”

“You’re right, I couldn’t make you,” he admitted.

“Won’t you need him as a focus?” Anonymous asked.

“Yes,” Malexandra admitted grudgingly, after consideration. “I’ll just get the supplies from home, and find somewhere else to do it.”

“Wouldn’t it just be easier to let me in?” the king asked.

“Yes. Look, I’m sure you’re aware that some of the people there are on the wrong side of your laws.”

“Of course. I won’t do anything about it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Malexandra studied him closely, then nodded, and suddenly they were standing in the room at the top of her tower. As Anonymous and the king got their bearings, she took out a large ceramic bowl and some vials. She poured a shimmery silver liquid into the bowl, then a dark blue liquid that floated above the other. She stirred them together, muttered something over the bowl, and stared into it. After a minute she shook her head and took out a pin. She held it in a lit candle, then handed it to the king.

“A drop of your blood.”

Skyler looked at Anonymous, who nodded. He pricked his finger and allowed a drop of blood to fall into the bowl. Malexandra stared into it again.

Just then, the door opened and a head peaked in. “Malexandra, have you seen—oh.” Aniya stared at the king. She started to duck back out of the room, but Skyler grabbed the door and opened it all the way.

“Aniya,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long time. It’s good to see you again.”

“It would be better to see you again if you hadn’t ordered me killed,” Aniya replied.

Malexandra looked up. “Remember your promise,” she warned Skyler.

“I know. Aniya, I don’t want you dead. We used to be friends, remember?”

“Until you signed a warrant for my execution.”

“No, until you destroyed Majardea’s chance for peace and prosperity!”

“Stop it,” Malexandra ordered. “If I’m going to find something that’s impossible to find, I need to concentrate.”

“What are you looking for?” Aniya asked.

“The crown. It was stolen. And someone used it.”

“Why are you telling her? She’d probably just go and destroy that too!”

Aniya ignored him. “But it’s unscryable.”

“I know! That’s the problem. But really, didn’t you feel that earlier? Anything that unleashes that much energy has to leave some kind of mark. At least if I can find out what’s been destroyed, or will be destroyed I can trace it.”

Aniya frowned. “But you’re not having any luck?”

“I think if I make the spell strong enough, and look into the future rather than the present—”

Aniya interrupted her. “Do you remember the woman who was her for a few days, maybe three weeks ago? Who wanted to learn about getting past magical obstacles?” Malexandra nodded. “Well, she was telling me that her friend had the Mirror of Azerbjingardolinderia… that would be able to find the crown, maybe he’d let us borrow it.”

Anonymous drew in a sharp breath. “That would probably have the capabilities to find it,” he admitted.

“Do you know where to find… what’s her name, Rakayl? Or her friend?” Malexandra asked Aniya.

She nodded. “I’ll go ask them,” Aniya said, and left.

Malexandra tried scrying for it a few more times, then emptied the bowl and put it away. “If Aniya can’t borrow the mirror, we’ll have to get it through nonmagical methods.”

Anonymous and King Skyler agreed, and then the three of them stood around awkwardly. However, by the time Aniya returned three hours later, Malexandra and the king were in the midst of a heated debate, with Anonymous making occasional comments.

They dropped the conversation when Aniya returned, carrying a sack. Out of it she pulled the crown, and handed it to Skyler. “See, I didn’t destroy it,” she said.

“So you were able to scry it and get it back?” Anonymous asked curiously.

“Yes, that is exactly what happened,” Aniya told him, not meeting his gaze.

“Who stole it? And what had it been used to destroy?”

“Just a plantation in Balirmind. It was stolen by a former slave who wanted revenge. You don’t have to worry about it happening again.”

“That’s going to be a lovely diplomatic mess to smooth over,” groaned the king.

“You’ll manage,” Malexandra told him. Once he and Anonymous were gone, she asked Aniya, “What really happened?”

“Well, they didn’t actually need to scry it,” Aniya admitted. “But Rakayl was done with it, so they gave it back to me. Besides for that, it happened exactly as I said.”

Mirror

“Rakayl? What’s a girl like you doing in a nice place like this?” It was not, of course, actually a nice place. The Cat’s Corpse was the seediest tavern in Port Endra; exactly my sort of place.

“Nice to see you too, Zyre.”

“Let me guess, you’re recruiting for some absolutely harebrained scheme at ill-gaining impossible riches.”

“Who, me?” I asked in my most innocent sounding voice. “All I want is to enjoy my freedom and my drink.”

Zyre looked at me disbelievingly. “It’s been a long time, but I can’t believe you changed that much.”

I had, but if anything I was more trouble now, not less. I didn’t answer him.

“Come on, Rakayl, what are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything.” I paused. “The thing is, I owe Vak a favor…”

“Ha! He’s as bad as you.”

“And you’re as bad as either of us. So, are you in?”

“I should ask what I’m getting into first, but what the hell, we both know I’ll agree, whatever it is. I’m in. What am I in?”

“Guess.”

“Um, emptying out the king’s treasury? Stealing an artifact from the Magiary? Assassinating a nobleman? Kidnapping the queen of Inzeth?”

“Well, not that I’d say no to any of those, but this is Vak’s hare-brained scheme, not mine. So it’s not nearly so interesting. Just a simple little highway robbery.”

“Right. Just like all you want is to enjoy your drink. I said I’m in, Rakayl, tell me the whole of it.”

“Vak’ll tell you, he’s waiting for us now.” We left and walked down to our camp on the beach. Vak was sitting in front of the fire, sharpening his knives.

“So what’s this about?” Zyre asked. “Just tell me straight out, Rakayl gave me all the build-up and I’ve already agreed. So what are we doing?”

“Well, see, Rakayl owes me, did she tell you that part? She promised me the Talisman and couldn’t deliver.”

“I actually only promised to tell him where it is.”

“True, but you couldn’t deliver on that, either, since it isn’t any more. Anyhow, I mean to make up for it. You ever heard of the Mirror of… erm, some prophet or other with a ridiculous name?”

“Nope. Let me guess. A prophet’s mirror prophecies?”

“Exactly. Right now it happens to be in the hands of a rather silly young woman who knows nothing of its true power, and happens to be traveling to Dowheld for her marriage.”

“So this really is just a simple bit of highway robbery?” Zyre asked suspiciously. “Stand and deliver, and all that?”

“More or less.”

Zyre glared at me. “More or less,” he repeated.

“The girl doesn’t know what she has. The same can’t be said for her father or her future husband, both of whom have sent guards with her.”

“Ah. So, a rather more complicated highway robbery. Just the three of us, or are you hoping to increase your numbers?”

“We should be able to do all right,” Vak said.

I don’t think Zyre agreed, but he only shrugged. “Where and when?”

“There’s a deserted stretch of the road a little way into the woods by Dowheld. We can wait there and take them by surprise. They should pass through there, in, oh, three hours?”

Zyre slapped his hands to his face. “I should have known you’d wait until the last minute. If we can get some horses, we should be able to get there in time, assuming you’re right about the timing and we aren’t delayed any.”

“We have the horses,” I told him. We got up and went to where they were tethered, hidden a little by the curve of the cliff. “And we’d expected the party to rest for the night before entering the forest,” I continued as we began to ride.

“And you know they aren’t because...?”

Vak wiggled his fingers and gave them a slight glow.

“Ah. Why do you even need the damn mirror?”

“I know a little magic, enough to do a sort-of muddled scrying spell. If I had more training, I’d be able to do it better. Some of the greatest mages alive can scry anything they like, as easy as looking into a window, and maybe have a few glimpses of the future every once in a while, if they’re lucky. The mirror shows the future, or the future that’ll come about if things stay on the path they’re on.”

“Very useful for gambling, I’m sure.”

Vak grinned. “True. And also for knowing if you’re about to get caged up, or killed. Or if something interesting is about to happen. Or for knowing which horse will win, of course.”

I enjoyed the ride; I’d missed this kind of friendly companionship, as well as the jittery anticipation before a job like this. We made it to the forest in plenty of time, and when the coach rode up we were hidden in the trees, faces covered by masks.

At the sight of the coach, Vak jumped out first, and we followed him. “Stand and deliver,” he demanded, sword drawn.

There were guards in the coach, as well as the young woman, but for some reason they offered no resistance. One, in fact, advised the young woman, “Just give them your money, Mayracelia, and everything will be fine.” He told us, with an apologetic shrug, “The young lady will certainly turn over her purse, as would we, but we’re merely her guards and have no coin.” The woman emptied her pockets and removed her elaborate jewelery with trembling hands. She handed them to the guard, who gave them to Vak.

He studied the loot carefully. “You have nothing else?” he demanded. “No other… trinket?”

“Just-“ the girl began, but was interrupted by the guard. “That’s all she has. Is it not enough for you?”

Ignoring him, Vak asked the girl gently, “Just what?”

“My mirror. It’s not real silver or anything.” She held it out, but the guard snatched it before Vak could.

“Hand it over,” I demanded. And they attacked.

There were five guards, as well as the girl and the driver, neither of whom seemed inclined to fight. Or so I thought, until two of the guards were upon me, and Vak and Zyre each occupied fighting one. They were well trained, better trained than guards of some minor noble should be. I could have taken one of them, with a fight, as Vak and Zyre surely would, but against both of them, I was as good as dead.

Then they froze. Not as if they’d been shocked by something, but as if they’d been turned to stone. I glanced at Vak, surprised that he was capable of such a thing, but he looked just as surprised as I was at the five unmoving guards.

The girl in the carriage spoke. “They should stay like that for a few minutes,” she sounded shy, and scared, and even younger than she was. “Take me with you,” she begged.

We stared at her in surprise. “Why?” I asked.

She held out the mirror. “You can have it, if you take me with you. I know what it is. I’m not as stupid as they think. He just wants it, he doesn’t want me at all, and I don’t want to marry him either.”

Vak and I exchanged a look. “Why not?” I said.

So Vak took the mirror and gave Mayracelia her money and jewelry back. We took one of the horses from the coach, and the four of us rode off. Vak stared obsessively into the mirror, saying things like, “Look, that looks like we’ll be having a good time,” and “Well, we can always make sure it doesn’t happen—Rakayl, when you meet a man with dark hair and blue eyes and a silver earring, don’t slap him; really, really, don’t slap him,” and, “Ooh, that’ll surprise him,” and, “Who needs a mirror to know that?” After about twenty minutes of this, he nearly fell off his horse, and I managed to convince him to put it away until later.

We ended up back at the Cat’s Corpse. Thanks to Vak’s warning, rather than slapping the dark haired man with the silver earring, I told him that I’d love to do what he suggested, and I probably wasn’t too contagious. He hastily backed away and moved on; it was Mayracelia who slapped him. Nobody got killed in the brawl, though.

I waited until we’d all had a few drinks in celebration, Mayracelia was standing on a table trying to sing, and Zyre was trying to talk her down, before suggesting to Vak, “Now that we’re even, I have some debts to someone else. You want to help me get payback?”

“Sounds like fun,” he agreed.