Crown of Danger (The Hidden Mage Book 2) Read online

  I felt the moment it hit the more solid ground further down, the power instantly dissipating as the stone settled into place with several final groaning noises.

  Chapter 2

  For a single moment utter silence gripped the work site and the adjoining section of street. And then pandemonium broke out as Captain Layna, the two sealed commonborn builders, and half the gathered crowd called recriminations or demands for answers at the younger creator mage. He cast a panicked glance around before his attention was caught by the cutting voice of his mentor, rising above the hubbub of the crowd.

  “Tell me exactly what went wrong there.”

  “I…I don’t know. It worked.” He shrunk in on himself at the withering glance he received from the older mage. “In the end.”

  Layna and the builders had fallen silent to hear the conversation, but the crowd continued to call out, making it hard to hear the mage’s words. My captain nodded at her team, and they immediately began to move the bystanders on. Experts at their job, the guards soon had our side of the street clear and traffic flowing again, the more recalcitrant giving way before their red and gold uniforms and stern expressions, some throwing glances at me in response to barked words by the guards. Even the mages among them knew not to question royal guards on active protection duty.

  Layna had drawn close, hovering over me in a threatening manner and glaring at everyone around us. She didn’t try to make me move, though, obviously as anxious to hear the mage’s explanation as I was.

  “This composition reads perfectly,” the older mage said. “If it didn’t, I wouldn’t have allowed you to work it. But a perfectly composed working would not have gone wrong in such a fashion.”

  His student gulped. “I’ve never done a foundation working for such a large building before. I was trying so hard to keep the whole image in my mind.”

  “You fool!” His mentor seemed to grow several inches until he towered over the younger man. “I told you that you weren’t ready to layer your workings. Not for something like this. So you went and did the worst thing possible and overlaid it with a conflicting instruction!”

  The young mage’s face had drained of all color. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “You’re just fortunate your true intention turned out to be stronger,” the older mage said darkly. “Or you’d be having a conversation with the Head of the Royal Guard right now. Or hadn’t you noticed we have a royal audience?”

  The student glanced in our direction and gulped, nearly toppling over as he hurried to bow deeply.

  “What is he talking about?” Bryony asked, casting concerned glances at me, but knowing better than to attempt to question me on my own part in the drama. “What did he do wrong?”

  I knew vaguely what the older mage meant by layering, but our first year composition studies hadn’t extended that far, and Bryony wouldn’t have been likely to hear about it from her energy mage parents. When I didn’t attempt an explanation, Captain Layna spoke, her voice heavy with displeasure.

  “Newer and weaker mages write long compositions, making every aspect and limitation of their working explicit with their words. More advanced compositions, however, can be shortened. Mages only achieve that level of control when they can place a secondary overlay of meaning over the words as they write them, shaping the power they force into their composition so it contains more complicated controls than outlined in the words themselves.”

  She shook her head. “None of your power mage year mates would be able to do that yet, but I can assure you they would all know better than to let their concentration slip while in the middle of a composition.”

  Layna was wrong about at least one of our year mates. I had no doubt that Prince Darius possessed the capability to overlay his compositions with deeper meaning. But I couldn’t imagine him ever making the mistake of this new creator mage.

  Bryony frowned at the two orange-robed mages. “So he did the layers wrong?”

  “It sounds like he didn’t mean to do an overlay of meaning at all,” I said. “But he must have been picturing the image of the foundation from a different angle, and accidentally overlaid a competing instruction.”

  In fact, I knew that was what had happened because I felt it from inside the working, although I hadn’t understood the reason behind it at the time. I couldn’t say that in front of my guards, though.

  “We’re all fortunate the true intention ended up having the stronger direction,” I added.

  Bryony gave me a loaded look but didn’t say anything.

  “I would issue him an official reprimand,” Captain Layna said, “except he had no idea you were here. There was clearly no harm intended for anyone, let alone you.” Her voice calmed somewhat. “And while the threat to public safety is unacceptable, that isn’t within my purview. Plus it looks like the creators have that well in hand themselves.”

  She sounded satisfied with the way the older mage was continuing to berate his student, threatening all sorts of dire punishments, including a year spent on the most basic and repetitive compositions needed by their discipline. I hid a smile at her pleasure, too distracted by my own unseen role in the near disaster to wish to join in castigating the mage involved.

  “So only the most powerful mages can write short compositions?” Bryony asked, her mind obviously still on Layna’s explanation.

  I frowned at her, nervous about the direction of her thoughts since she seemed to be carefully not looking in my direction.

  The captain nodded. “We have legends about a mighty mage of old who won a battle with a single word composition scratched in the dirt. But currently the Spoken Mage is the only one I’m aware of with the power and control for a single-word composition.” She spoke my mother’s popular title with respect. “I believe the instructors at the Academy are working with Crown Prince Lucien in the hope he might one day match the achievements of his mother.”

  I grimaced at her mention of my talented older brother, but her words didn’t have the same sting they might once have carried. I was no longer the powerless sibling, constantly comparing myself to my gifted brother. It didn’t matter if no one currently knew of my hidden abilities. I knew—and one day they would, too. I just had to work out how and when to make the truth known.

  “Oh, I see,” said Bryony, and this time she couldn’t resist throwing a single glance at me.

  I tried to glare at her without moving my features too noticeably, and either she received my message, or her own natural wisdom asserted itself, and she let the matter drop. No doubt she would be full of questions, but she could ask them later when we managed to find a moment alone.

  “Shall we continue to the shops?” Captain Layna asked. “Somehow I imagine the creators will leave the poor work team to complete the rest of the foundation with their own compositions. And we can assume they sourced them from a more competent mage than that—” She cut off whatever insult she had been about to utter with a glance at me.

  I grimaced but nodded, not having the heart to disappoint Bryony by saying I would prefer to return to the palace. But she spoke for me.

  “You know, after being nearly squished like a pancake, I find I’ve somehow lost my enthusiasm for shopping. There’s only one store I have to visit before we leave.” She looked at me. “Do you mind one quick stop, Verene?”

  “No, of course not.” I gestured for her to lead the way, curious in spite of everything that had just happened.

  She led us down the street, Captain Layna keeping pace beside her while the other three guards formed a close circle around me. The fence railings had disappeared, the buildings now standing close to the road so that passersby could admire the wares displayed behind the wide glass windows. We continued past most of them, however, Bryony ignoring her usual favorites such as the store she claimed made the best gowns in the kingdom or Empire.

  When she finally stopped, it was in front of a smaller shop, one of the furthest from the palace. I could see further down South Road where hom
es once again replaced the shops, these ones tall and built close together in a uniform weathered gray stone. But the houses of the commonborn population, while crowded compared to the mage mansions, still looked bright and cheerful thanks to the many window boxes overflowing with color and life.

  Bryony didn’t glance down the street, though, pushing through the door of the store with vigor.

  “There’s only one thing I absolutely have to get,” she said over her shoulder to me. “A gift for your mother for hosting me all summer. I know my parents brought all sorts of things from the Empire when they came to visit, but I want to give her something specifically from me.”

  “That’s thoughtful,” I said. “But you know she loves having you here. She considers you family, after all.”

  “All the more reason to give her a gift.” Bryony smiled brightly.

  The store owner hurried forward to greet us with a low bow. “Can I help you?” She looked eager as her eyes took me in, along with my four trailing guards.

  “I’m looking for a gift,” Bryony explained.

  The lady started to point toward the display of intricate glass creations she had set up in her window, but Bryony continued.

  “I’d like something made by a commonborn. Without the use of power.”

  “Oh?” The woman assumed a thoughtful expression as she surveyed the inside of her store. She must have been confused by the request, but she knew better than to question a customer.

  “I would recommend having a look at that set of shelves over there.” She pointed to the ones she meant. “All those works were made by a prominent master glassblower right here in Corrin.” Her face turned proud. “He’s considered the leading master on glassblowing, and he isn’t even sealed.”

  “Thank you.” Bryony moved over to examine the pieces which looked exquisite and startlingly detailed, even if they lacked some of the more impossible designs of the pieces displayed in the window.

  “Are those made by mages?” I asked the storekeeper, pointing at the window. “Or by commonborns with mage compositions?”

  “Both,” she said. “I’ll admit it’s not a common practice, but glass blowing is captivating for some. There are a few mages over the years who have fallen in love with the art form and create themselves. It’s demanding physical work, though, and once they stop, some will form partnerships with commonborn glassblowers and provide them with compositions. Or sell them to a number of different glassblowers. We don’t need the compositions to create the more basic, practical items, but they are incredibly useful for more artistic creations like these.”

  “What about this one?” Bryony asked, calling us both over to her side of the store. “Surely this wasn’t created without power.”

  The storekeeper chuckled. “No, indeed, you’re correct there.”

  I examined the striking piece which depicted two clear glass forearms rising vertically from the base of the piece and twining together, the two hands clasped. The entwined fingers gripped a long green stem, topped with a beautiful flower in vibrant red and orange. The base of the stem disappeared into the hands, long trails of green snaking down through the clear glass of the hands and arms as if the roots of the plant came from inside the people.

  “Was this one not made by the master you mentioned?” I asked.

  “Oh, no, it was,” she said. “But he didn’t make it alone. Last summer a retired grower sought him out. Apparently she had long appreciated his work. And since her retirement had relieved her of her duties to her discipline, she spent several months learning about glassblowing and experimenting with him before returning to her home estate. They created a number of stunning pieces together, but this is the only one I have left.”

  “It’s perfect,” Bryony said with decision.

  “I thought you wanted something made without power,” I said as the storekeeper hurried to securely wrap the piece.

  “I did.” Bryony watched her purchase being prepared. “But this is even better. Aunt Elena was telling us how she often feels disconnected from her commonborn origins these days, and I wanted something to remind her of the commonborns and her history with them. But this is absolutely perfect. A commonborn and a mage coming together to create new life and growth. It could be a sculpture of her own story.”

  I slipped my arm around Bryony’s shoulder and squeezed, tears in my eyes. “She’s going to love it.”

  “I hope so.” Bryony paid the storekeeper, taking careful charge of the delicate parcel.

  We exited the store together, starting back toward the palace. We walked in silence, my thoughts taking a darker turn. My mother possessed a unique gift, and she had used it to free her kingdom from war and bring new hope and voice to the commonborn people. Now I, too, had discovered I possessed a unique gift, but all I could do with it was subvert the workings of others.

  My mood, buoyed up by the excitement of my success at the work site, crashed. If all I could do was fix others’ mistakes—relying on happening to be in the right place at the right time—then my own legacy was likely to be insignificant. I had barely even managed to practice with my new ability over the summer, hampered by keeping it a secret. Bryony could only give others her energy, a useful skill but limited for my purposes—and not something I could ask of her more than occasionally.

  I itched to experiment with a range of different power compositions, but I could hardly go around taking control of other mages’ workings around the palace. My parents had noticed my frustration and strange moods but seemed to have decided not to ask me directly.

  Their decision might have had something to do with Darius, fueled by my mother’s intuition. Whether it was hints dropped by Bryony, or something I’d said while relaying Darius’s request for support to my aunt, but somehow my mother had grasped the basic idea that I was far from indifferent to the Kallorwegian prince. And that we had not left our relationship in a positive place.

  Whether she forbore from questioning me out of respect for what she no doubt considered my adolescent feelings or because she and my father were dismayed at the idea that I could possibly have romantic interest in a member of the Kallorwegian court, I wasn’t sure. But I appreciated it all the same. I wasn’t ready to talk about Darius to anyone, even my mother.

  Forbearance was not one of Bryony’s strengths, however, and as soon as we arrived back at the palace, she dragged me back to the guest suite she had been occupying for the weeks of our summer break. As soon as the door closed behind us, she carefully put down her new purchase and then pounced.

  “It was you back there, wasn’t it? Tell me everything.”

  Chapter 3

  I flopped onto her bed while she remained standing, no doubt wanting the freedom to stride around and gesticulate wildly in response to whatever I said.

  “I could feel there was something wrong with that composition from the beginning,” I said. “It was fighting itself. But I was afraid to intervene.”

  “It’s a good thing you did, though. Or who knows who might have been hurt?”

  I nodded. “I should have taken control sooner, but I don’t know anything about building foundations, and I knew there had to be a fair amount of power in that composition.” I hesitated before admitting truthfully, “And I didn’t know how easily I would be able to hide my involvement.”

  Bryony let out a sigh. “Yes, we were fortunate there, in the end. I don’t think anyone suspected a thing. And I guess you didn’t need to know anything about buildings after all.”

  I frowned, rubbing at my temples. “Well, that’s actually the strange thing.”

  Bryony raised an eyebrow. “Really? That one thing?”

  I rolled my eyes at her, pushing on with what I was trying to say. “I was worried because it was a composition that required a reasonable level of specialist knowledge, but as soon as I took control of it…”

  “Don’t tell me you gained all the knowledge of a master creator,” Bryony exclaimed. “Because that’s an ability I reall
y would envy. Think how easy it would make study. Just claim a composition from each one of the instructors, and boom! You’d never have to study again.”

  I chuckled. “Yes, I can imagine you’d find that appealing. But I’m afraid I’m as ignorant about foundations and…and load bearings as I was before.”

  “Load bearings?” Bryony looked at me suspiciously. “What are load bearings? Maybe you did absorb some knowledge.”

  I threw up my hands. “I have no idea what they are. It’s possible I just made that phrase up.”

  Bryony laughed. “Fine, then. I will accept you know nothing about constructing buildings.” Her forehead creased. “Although you did more than stop that giant abomination from squashing everyone. It looked like it actually did what it was supposed to in the end. At least it sank into the dirt, which I’m assuming is what it was supposed to do. But I thought you’d taken control of the working at that point.”

  “That’s the strange thing.” I sat up straight, tucking my feet under me. “I don’t know anything about building now, but the second I took control of the working, I understood it. Not just that its purpose was to create the footings for the foundation, but all the intricate details of how that was going to be achieved for that particular site. It all made sense to me. Right up until the working finished, and then the details just…slipped away.”

  “Well at least you knew it while you needed it. That seems like quite a helpful tool with an ability like yours.”

  I nodded, trying to keep frustration out of my voice. “I just wish it hadn’t taken me all summer to discover it. I wish there was a way I could practice.”

  Bryony grimaced in sympathy. “I’m sorry. You know I’d help if I could.”