Page 29 of Fate of the Argosi

‘Spells down!’ Ala’tris commanded them. ‘Especially you, Jir’dan.’

The guy she’d directed that last part to was tall, skinny and mightily self-righteous. ‘You witnessed for yourself the darkness inside them!’ he insisted. With his golden hair, magnificently hooked nose and drawn-back shoulders, he looked like an especially pompous eagle posing for a portrait. His fingers had formed the somatic shape for an ember spell I recognised and wouldn’t fancy being on the receiving end of. ‘A thief, a murderer . . .’ Finally his eyes darted to me, narrowing in suspicion, making him look even more hawkish. ‘You said it yourself, Ala’tris, this one carries a mind plague the likes of which none of us have ever encountered. How long can she possibly contain it befo—’

‘Forever,’ Ala’tris said with such finality that even I was taken aback. ‘Trust these words, Jir’dan, all of you. Forever and a day will pass before Ferius Parfax allows such anguish to be unleashed on anyone but herself.’

‘How can you know for certain?’ the raven-haired girl asked. ‘You claimed to have known her less than a day.’

‘Indeed, but I have been inside her mind twice now.’ Ala’tris bowed her head. ‘An offence for which I fear I may never be able to make restitution, save in this one thing.’ Her eyes rose again and met mine. ‘Fate intended for us to be enemies, but we defied that destiny and chose to be something very different to one another. So let me be clear: anyone who bets against my sister bets against me.’

Damn it. She was going to set me to bawling again.

‘That makes no sense,’ argued a boy about the same age as Ba’dari. He shared the raven-haired girl’s squat physique, but the short, curly locks sticking straight out of his head were a sandy brown. ‘No one can “defy” destiny. By definition destiny is inevitable.’

Ala’tris grinned at the boy’s stubborn certitude. ‘You will find, Ga’brel, that Ferius Parfax makes a habit of flouting the inevitable.’ Her smile changed, becoming so confident it was almost sly, like she was holding on to a secret none of her fellow mages knew and was about to raise it on high like an amulet. ‘How else can you explain a smart-mouthed teenager with no magic of her own saving the entire Jan’Tep people from the scourge of . . .’ She held them in rapt attention for so long even Durral would’ve called it theatrical, until finally, she finished her performance with, ‘. . . the Scarlet Verses?’

‘What?’ asked Jir’dan, his nose looking even more beakish as his eyebrows rose up in disbelief. ‘This . . . this scrawny, pinch-faced, gap-toothed—’

‘Hey!’ Arissa interrupted, coming to my defence. ‘Rat Girl doesn’t have a gap in her teeth!’ She leaned in close and peered at me. ‘Well, maybe a little one?’

Jir’dan didn’t seem concerned with debating though. All his doubt was directed at Ala’tris. ‘You expect us to believe that this dishevelled scarecrow is . . . the Argosi?’

‘The Argosi . . .’Gab’rel marvelled, followed soon after by Ba’dari, who walked right up to me like I was an exhibit at the zoo and asked, ‘You’rethe Argosi?’

It never occurred to me that accounts of the Scarlet Verses would reach the Jan’Tep. My fellow Argosidotravel those lands sometimes, and we’re awful prone to bragging. Still, I would’ve expected the Jan’Tep repeating the tale to alter the details to make like one ofthemhad put an end to the Red Scream.

Ala’tris started laughing at me, pointing at my face. ‘Ferius Parfax, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone look quite so uncomfortable at being admired.’

‘Not like it’s a problem I encounter too often. Now, is there any chance we could make our way into that tower and one of you all-powerful mages can spell me up some hot water for a bath? I’m starting to smell like my horse.’ I glanced around the sparsely wooded forest and then the tower beyond. ‘Speaking of horses, where are yo—’

‘What about her companions?’ the final member of the group asked. The woman who stepped out of the shadows was tall and graceful. The silk of her sleeveless sand-coloured robe clung to curves that, judging by Chedran’s audible intake of breath, was making him reconsider his prejudice against the Jan’Tep. Her head was shaved, her skin bronze. She was the only one of the group wearing make-up: vibrant shades of pale cerulean and darker azure that accented her lips and the magnificent blue of her eyes. She caught Chedran’s stare and didn’t seem offended by it; nor was she persuaded to trust him though. ‘Will you vouch for this murderer as well?’

‘A fair question, Sar’ephir.’ Ala’tris crossed the muddy ground to stand before Chedran. Like a card sharp who can’t stop pulling the same buried ace out of his sleeve, he tried his snake-charming on her. I caught a glimpse of her fingers twitching, a faint flash of purple from the sigils on her forearm. Chedran winced like she’d flicked his earlobe with a rusted nail. ‘No,’ she said then. ‘There is no path to friendship for us, is there, warrior of the Mahdek?’

His only reply was a slow shake of his head.

Ala’tris surprised all of us by taking his hand and kissing the back of it. ‘Fortunate for both of us, then, that peace is not negotiated with friends but between enemies.’ She let go of Chedran’s hand and turned to Arissa. ‘Might I hope, however, that Arelisa Talédra, Contessa of—’

‘Arissa’s fine,’ she said.

Arelisa Talédra.That was the first time I’d heard Arissa’s real name. And she was a contessa, of all things? I guess Ala’tris hadn’t had as much trouble rifling through her thoughts as mine.

Arissa shot me a familiar look from back in our Black Galleon days – the one that said,‘You want to stay friends? You don’t dig into my business.’To Ala’tris she added, ‘Besides, I’m not here to negotiate some treaty or whatever it is you people think we’re about to do. I just tagged along with Rat Girl on the off-chance there’d be something worth stealing in that tower of yours.’

‘Rat Girl?’ Ala’tris asked, unable to keep a smirk from her lips.

I shrugged. ‘It’s a compliment really. You should see the folks she usually hangs with.’

Laughter eased the tension a little. We were, all of us, dangerous people who’d come perilously close to bloodshed. Would’ve been nice to leave it there, maybe share some proper food and a little wine, a few dirty jokes, maybe even a stolen kiss here or there. Too bad I couldn’t allow that, not yet. Friendship was the card that both Ala’tris and I had played. Now it was time we showed the rest of our hands.

‘Ala’tris,’ I said, tugging at the hem of my leather waistcoat with my right hand to mask drawing a half-dozen steel throwing cards from one of the pockets with my left, then coughing to conceal the cards sliding into the cuff of my shirt. ‘I sure hope you have a good explanation for cursing an innocent twelve-year-old boy with a spell warrant.’

Ala’tris, the unexpected friend from my past who I dearly hoped wasn’t about to prove herself an enemy, replied with a single word. She spoke it clearly enough, but still I stared at her until she repeated it. ‘Again,’ I insisted, because it was the kind of word over which wars get started.

‘Restitution.’

19

Restitution

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