Locked in her palatial prison, Brenna waited for Falk to come interrogate her, both fearing it and wishing he would get it over with. She went back and forth on the question of telling him that the men his guards had killed had been taking them to Mother Northwind. On the one hand, it might sow confusion between the two of them. On the other hand, why should she help Falk? If Mother Northwind were working at cross-purposes to Falk, why not let her work?
But in the end, it wasn’t Falk who came to see her, but Mother Northwind.
Brenna had wakened early that morning, she wasn’t sure why; something in a dream, she thought, though all she remembered were confusing images of Falk and Anton and the dead man sizzling in the campfire. That image came back far too often in her dreams, and usually cost her the next hour’s sleep. This time it had come so close to morning that she gave up going back to sleep at all, and instead got up, found the book she had been rather unsuccessfully trying to read, and settled down next to the lantern. Magelight would have been better, but she had no way of turning them on.
Hilary came in at the usual time, seemed startled to see Brenna awake, but said, “Good morning, miss,” and went about her usual tasks of building up the fire and setting the table in the antechamber for the breakfast that would arrive shortly.
Brenna discovered she had read the same page four times without once remembering what it had said, and tossed the book aside. She went out into the antechamber. “What’s the weather like, Hilary?” she asked. “I’ve been locked up in her for so long now I’m beginning to forget what fresh air feels like.”
“Outside the Palace, miss? Warm as always.”
Brenna grimaced. “No, I mean the real weather. Is it still bitterly cold? Has there been a meltwind?” Once or twice a winter, a great warm wind would sweep in from the west, causing the temperatures to rise so rapidly you could go from winds that would flay the skin from your bones to water running from the roofs in the space of a day.
Hilary shook her head. “No meltwinds, miss. Cold and still.” She lowered her voice. “Perfect for launching that flying machine of Falk’s, I hear.”
Brenna felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather inside or outside of the Barrier. “Flying machine?”
“That’s the rumor, miss.” Hilary adjusted the silverware on the snow-white tablecloth on the little table beside the fire. “Shall I have someone light the magelights, miss?”
“What? No, the lantern is fine. Besides, it’s getting light outside.” She glanced back at the tall windows, which had turned to gray from black sometime in the last few minutes. “What about this flying machine?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be a big secret, but of course there are guards involved and they tell the maids all kinds of things, especially when they’re… well,” she blushed, “anyway, the story is that it’s a flying machine from outside the Barrier, if you can believe it.” Hilary shook her head. “I can hardly credit it myself. What is there outside the Barrier but wilderness and savages? But that’s what they say, all the same.”
“Did they… describe it?” Brenna said, trying to will herself to believe that there could be a flying machine other than Anton’s airship.
“Well, miss, the guards say it’s big, big as a house, shaped kind of like a loaf of bread, with a big wicker basket under it and this thing inside it like a little MageFurnace that shoots fire up into it until it’s all puffed up. A whirligig thing on the rear of the basket-don’t know what that’s for-and a rudder like a ship.
“There’s a strange boy been making sure it’s all set to go, and they say that this morning he’s launching it on a test flight. Wish I could be there, too, miss,” she added. “I would dearly love to see a flying machine. Not a bit of magic about it, the guards say. Commoner through-and-through.”
Anton? Brenna felt sick. Launching the airship… with Falk’s help?
Cold fury flooded her. Mother Northwind did it. She stole his thoughts, now she’s twisted his mind. All to help Falk!
And a test flight? Not a chance. Falk was sending Anton back into the Outside to serve his own ends… no doubt to lie to the Outsiders about how harmless the Kingdom of Evrenfels was.
And there was nothing she could do about it.
She wanted to scream and throw things, wanted to sweep the carefully arranged breakfast dishes off the table and into the fire, but she couldn’t frighten Hilary that way, and so all she said was. “How… interesting.”
Hilary brightened. “It is, isn’t it, miss?” She looked around to make sure all was set, then curtsied and said, “I’ll just fetch your breakfast, miss,” and went out.
Brenna went to the window and gazed across the lake toward the center of New Cabora. The real sun was just coming up, washing pale pink across the sky, hazed by the smoke and ice fog rising from the city’s chimneys. Brenna reached out and touched the cool glass pane. “Anton,” she whispered. She looked up at the sky, as if she would see the airship flying by, a tiny blue dot high in the sky.
But, of course, the sky was as empty as always.
He’s Falk’s man now, she thought with sick rage. Falk’s man, thanks to that witch!
She was still staring at the sky when she heard the door to the antechamber open. “Just put the breakfast on the table, and then you can go, Hilary,” she said.
“I’m not going to go so soon after working my poor knees so hard climbing the stairs.”
Mother Northwind! Brenna spun around. There stood the old crone, hunched over her cane by the fire, beady black eyes staring at her. Brenna’s breakfast was on the table, but there was no sign of Hilary.
“You!” Brenna strode toward her, not sure what she intended to do. “Get out of here, you witch!”
“Good morning to you, too, Brenna,” Mother Northwind said calmly.
“Don’t talk to me. Get out!”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Brenna wheeled toward the door, but Mother Northwind said, “And there’s no use calling for the guard. He can’t hear you right now, and he’ll have no memory of my having been here. Nor will your maid. She knows she delivered your breakfast, but somehow it didn’t register on her that I came into the room with her and remained after she left.”
“You are a witch!”
Mother Northwind sighed. “No, just a Mageborn with a knack for soft magic who has picked up a few tricks in a long life.”
“Falk will know you’ve come,” Brenna said. “He can probably listen in on everything you say here. You should-”
Mother Northwind held up her wrist, showing a glistening silver bracelet. “While I wear this, Falk knows nothing of what I do or say. Now, enough! I have things to tell you that you must know.”
“There is nothing you can say that I need to know,” Brenna spat. “You mind-raped Anton, and now you’ve twisted him so that he serves Lord Falk, you damned-”
“Enough! ” Mother Northwind’s voice, cold and sharp as a frozen dagger, sliced her voice to silence. “You know I do not serve Falk. His guards stole you from my men… and murdered them.”
“But Anton-”
“Your lad Anton has not been ‘twisted.’ ” Mother Northwind showed her teeth in a catlike grin. “But Falk thinks he has.”
Brenna blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Then you might try being silent for a few minutes!” Mother Northwind nodded at the door. “Or I can leave now… and leave you in the dark.”
Brenna pressed her lips together, but nodded, once.
“Good.” Mother Northwind pulled the chair out from the breakfast table and eased herself into it. “Ah,” she said. “That’s better.” She lifted a silver lid to reveal two slices of buttered toast. “May I?”
“Help yourself,” Brenna said between clenched teeth.
Mother Northwind lifted out a piece of toast, replaced the lid, and took a bite. “All right, then,” she said. “Anton is going Outside. Falk thinks he’s going to soften up the battle space, tell them they have nothing to worry about from the Barrier coming down… so that when the Barrier does come down, his army will face less opposition. In reality, Anton is going to warn them to bring up their military and be ready to fight if Falk brings the Barrier down in the spring.
“And I’m here to warn you.” Mother Northwind finished the piece of toast, and wiped her buttery fingers on Brenna’s napkin. “Much better. I was feeling peckish.”
“Warn me about what?” Brenna said.
Mother Northwind studied her. “Do you have any idea why you are so crucial to Falk’s plans? Or to mine?”
“No,” Brenna said bitterly. “I’m just a Commoner girl, nothing special. I don’t even know who my parents were, except that they worked for Falk.”
“Well, I can set you straight on all that.” Mother Northwind leaned forward. “You are not a Commoner. Far from it. Your mother was Queen Aldona. She died when you were born. And your father… is King Kravon.”
Brenna gaped at her. The words made no sense. “But the King only has one son… Prince Karl.”
“One child,” Mother Northwind corrected. “No sons. One daughter. You.”
“But Prince Karl…”
“Prince Karl is not the King’s son. He’s not even Mageborn. He truly is a Commoner.”
“But he’s the Heir!”
“No,” Mother Northwind said softly. “You are.”
Brenna seemed to hear a distant roaring. There was a chair against the wall close behind her; she found it with a reaching hand and sat down in it, knees suddenly rubbery. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then why did your knees just fold like broken twigs?” Mother Northwind snapped. “Of course you believe me. You believe me because it makes sense of your whole life. Falk stole you… with my help. .. when you were born. Karl took your place in the Palace, and you became the poor orphaned Commoner girl that Lord Falk took in out of the goodness of his heart.”
“But… why?” Brenna whispered.
Mother Northwind’s eyes were like buttons of black polished stone. “Because to bring down the Barrier requires having the Heir in the right place at the right time-and the best way to do that is to keep the Heir close to you without anyone else even knowing she’s the Heir.”
“You… stole me? For Falk?”
“No,” Mother Northwind growled. “For myself. Falk just thinks it was for him. He thinks I’m just a tool he can use, then discard. Just like all other MageLords think they can use and discard whomever they please!”
“Falk wants to bring down the Barrier so that MageLords can rule the world,” Brenna said. “If you feel that way about MageLords, why are you helping him? Why do you want the Barrier to fall?”
Mother Northwind’s eyes gleamed in the growing morning light. “Because if I bring it down-and I will-then I will destroy magic along with it.”
Brenna’s eyes widened. “Destroy magic? That’s impossible!”
“Is it?” Mother Northwind said. “Then I guess I’ve been wasting my time these last thirty years or more.” She shook her head. “No. It isn’t impossible. The Outsiders found a way to counter magic eight centuries ago, Brenna. That’s why we’re here. They had the help of a Healer who, despite being Mageborn, was revolted by the tyranny of the MageLords. He discovered how to craft a weapon to use against the MageLords, a weapon that rendered their magic useless. He created the Magebane: a man impervious to magic, a man who could turn the MageLords’ own power against them.” She frowned. “I still don’t know everything he could do. I have some records of his… and I’ve found out some things myself… but he must have been an even more powerful soft mage than I, for the Magebane he created could extend his protection over an entire army. The spells of the Mageborn fell on that army… and bounced, falling instead on the Mageborn themselves. They died by the hundreds, and the Commoners vastly outnumbered them to begin with. Without their magic, they were routed. Many MageLords died. Twelve survived. And those twelve brought the surviving Mageborn… and as many Commoners as were trapped in their service… here.”
Brenna found she hadn’t been breathing. She gasped in air, then said, “Are you saying you’ve made a new Magebane?”
“Yes,” Mother Northwind said. “Not as powerful as the one of long ago, but powerful enough to do what I need done.”
“Which is?”
Mother Northwind spread her gnarled hands. “Break the Keys. Destroy the Great Barrier… and because it is tied to every Mageborn in the Kingdom, destroy magic along with it. The Mageborn will become ordinary men and women, powerless, no different from the Commoners they have oppressed in ways large and small for centuries. And the Commoners outnumber them.”
Brenna thought of Falk, and what she had learned from the Minik, and a fierce delight washed through her. “I’d like to see that!” she said.
“You will…” Mother Northwind said. “If you survive the next two days.”
“What?”
“Lord Falk will come to you later today,” Mother Northwind said. “He is going to take you north… to the Cauldron.”
Brenna blinked. North to the great lake of fire that powered the Barrier? “Why?”
“Falk’s plan,” Mother Northwind said carefully, “is to destroy the Barrier but leave magic intact. The only way for him to do that is to first seize the Keys for himself.”
“Seize the Keys? How is that possible?”
“There’s only one way.” Mother Northwind gazed intently into her eyes. “It involves a complex spell, the energy of the Cauldron, and the simultaneous deaths of two people: King Kravon, and in that same instant, as the Keys are being transferred, the Heir.” Mother Northwind jabbed her cane at Brenna. “You.”
Brenna sat frozen, trying to comprehend what Mother Northwind was saying. “Falk means to kill me?” she whispered. “At the Cauldron?” All those years, growing up in Falk’s manor, trying to get a spark of affection from him, longing for the parents she had never known, begging anyone she met to tell her about them but learning nothing.. . because there had been nothing to learn. The parents she’d thought she’d lost as a child had never existed. Her real father didn’t know she existed. She wasn’t even a person in Falk’s eyes. She was a… sacrifice, raised from childhood for no other purpose but to die at the right time in the right place.
She went from frozen to furious in an instant. She jumped to her feet. “You have to get me out of here! You can’t just-if he takes me there with him, how can I stop him? He’ll have guards, he’s stronger, he has magic. I can’t fight him-”
“No, you can’t,” Mother Northwind said. “But I need you alive and unharmed, and I will keep you that way. So. You go with Lord Falk. Be aware of what he has planned for you. But I will see that he does not go through with it.”
“How?” Brenna demanded.
“Sit down and I’ll explain.”
Brenna remained standing.
Mother Northwind pounded her cane on the floor. “Sit down! I’ll get a crick in my neck with you looming up there like that.”
Brenna sat, but not comfortably.
“Although I understand that hearing that someone intends to kill you tends to drive everything else out of your head, you seem to have forgotten that you are not the only one who is to die,” Mother Northwind continued acerbically.
“You said… he’s going to kill the King, too? My…” she still couldn’t believe it.”… my… father?”
“Your father. Not that he knows it. And not that you could expect much fatherly affection if he did. He thinks Karl is his son and he hasn’t spoken to him yet this year that I’m aware of. In any event,” Mother Northwind went on, “if the King does not die, then you must not die either. And the King will not die. I have seen to it. Falk will take you to the Cauldron… but he will bring you back again, alive. And once you have returned, then I will execute my plan, and magic… and MageLords… will be a thing of the past.”
“But… how?”
Mother Northwind heaved herself to her feet, leaning on her cane. “That’s my business for now. But it won’t harm you, lass. And once it is done, you’ll be free to do what you like… with whomever you like.” She managed a leer. “Anton, for instance.”
Brenna blushed. “We haven’t… we didn’t…”
“Yes, that’s what he claims, too.” Mother Northwind cackled, but then turned serious. “You do what you can to stay alive, Brenna, and I’ll do what I can to keep you alive. And soon we’ll both see brighter days.” She studied Brenna. “I don’t suppose you’d care to shake on it?”
Brenna jumped up and backed away until she felt the wall pressing against her spine. “No,” she said.
Mother Northwind sighed. “I do wish,” she said, “that soft magic did not require touch. It would make my life so much easier. Well, then, I guess I’ll show myself out.” She went to the door.
“Wait,” Brenna said.
Mother Northwind glanced back. “What is it?”
“Why are you telling me this? Why not just… do whatever it is you need to do and leave me none the wiser?”
Mother Northwind smiled. “Smart girl.” The smile faded. “Two reasons. For one thing, when the time comes to carry out my scheme, it may be easier if you know the truth. But the immediate reason? Anton told me you know that the men Falk’s guards ‘rescued’ you from were bringing you to me. Falk does not know that. I’d rather you didn’t tell him. And since now, if you tell him, you will no longer have me to stand between you and certain death… you’re not going to tell him, are you?”
Brenna swallowed. “No,” she said.
“I thought not.” Mother Northwind opened the door, passed through it, and closed it quietly behind her.
Brenna stared at that closed door for a long moment, then went back into her bedroom. She pressed her right cheek against the window glass so she could look west, to her left, in the vain hope she might see the airship that must even now be carrying Anton toward the Great Barrier and the strange world beyond it from whence he’d come.
Brenna wished, more than anything else in the world, that she were with him.
Falk, with great satisfaction and not a little wonder, watched the airship sail away, the strange chopping sound of its engine and propeller echoing back from the walls of buildings around the horse farm’s cobblestoned yard. Anton’s mission was hardly crucial, but Falk prided himself on making the best possible use of every tool that came his way, and now felt he had done so with the Outsider boy… thanks to Mother Northwind.
The Council had been astonished when he had reported to them the boy’s provenance-and revealed the existence of the flying machine. The Commoner in particular had sat up and taken notice, though of course he hadn’t been allowed to speak in the ensuing discussion.
They had all agreed that the situation needed careful consideration, but admitted the prospects for communication and trade with the Outside were exciting. “I suggest,” said Lord Athol, “that we begin assembling a diplomatic team to be flown over the Barrier, to open formal negotiations with whatever government we may find there.” This was duly agreed to, and the rest of the meeting had passed in discussion and argument about the makeup of the team and who should lead it, as the first ambassador the Kingdom of Evrenfels had ever, obviously, had to appoint. Along the way, they agreed to Falk’s suggestion that the boy begin training one of his own men to serve as its pilot. Falk had even invited them to see the start of the test flight. None of the MageLords had actually come, of course; none of the Councillors, especially after the recent unrest, had any intention of passing through the Lesser Barrier in winter-certainly not to stand around a manure-strewn farmyard!
The Commoner had come, though. Falk had been surprised to see him, but the invitation had been extended to all the Councillors, so he certainly had the right to come. He stood in a corner of the farmyard, his personal guard standing stoically next to him, watching preparations.
Prince Karl had expressed an interest in attending, of course, but despite Karl’s annoying new tendency to attempt to throw his weight around, Falk had been completely within his authority to refuse that request. “With tensions so high in the Common, absolutely not,” Falk had told the Prince when asked.
Since that night of the welcome-home dinner, he had scrupulously briefed the Prince on everything he had been doing in the Commons: rebuilding the shattered buildings, continuing to seek information about the Common Cause, maintaining enhanced patrols, placing enchanted watchstones all around the Barrier’s perimeter in case the Cause had more of the devices Tagaza had given them to slip through the Barrier.
Meanwhile, Teran was once more shadowing the Prince everywhere, and reporting to Falk on who he spoke to and about what. Teran had provided no information of any interest; nor did Falk expect any. The fake Prince was so peripheral to his plans now that the endgame was in sight that he was almost beneath notice. In a few more days, Falk thought, I will take great pleasure in telling that “Prince” exactly what he is… then tossing him out into the snow myself.
Neither Karl nor the Commoner nor any of the other Councillors suspected that the test flight would take the airship, and the now fanatically loyal Anton, on a preemptive diplomatic mission of Falk’s own. If asked why the airship had not promptly returned from its test, he would claim there had been a malfunction, that the craft had come down out in the wild somewhere, and that it might be some days before it could be returned to New Cabora.
And if somehow passing beyond the Barrier made Anton less than fanatically loyal… well, the guard he had sent along would see to it that any damage was minimal. Spurl knew well that he could be on a one-way mission, but he was one of Falk’s most trusted guardsmen, because he was also one of the Unbound.
The airship vanished into the distance, and the guards who had served as the ground crew clustered together, talking in excited voices. Falk watched them, a half-smile playing around his lips. Things are going to get a lot more exciting in a few days, boys, he thought.
The next morning, Falk waited again under the western portico of the Palace for the arrival of his magecarriage, as he had less than two weeks earlier, when he had taken the body of the failed assassin to his manor for examination by Mother Northwind. Today there were no clouds in the sky of the outside world, so the dawn sunlight turning the bridge pink was the real thing.
And here came his carriage, Robinton once more at the controls, wearing the enchanted warmcoat his wife had purchased for him. As it approached, Falk contemplated the journey ahead.
Only one road stretched the length of the kingdom north to south. Centered on New Cabora, as everything was inside the circular Barrier, it ran south to the Barrier cattle town of Smallcreek, and north from New Cabora to Berriton, a hundred miles distant, and from thence to the Cauldron, more than a hundred and fifty miles farther yet. From New Cabora to Berriton, and perhaps fifty miles farther north, a few villages were strung along the road, but as it passed from the rolling farmland of the central part of the kingdom into the trackless forests of the north and then into the foothills of the Barrier-bisected mountain range that marked Evrenfels’ northern boundary, there were only a couple of army outposts.
Still, even at the modest pace necessary on uncertain winter roads, the magecarriage could take him, Brenna, and the guard a full hundred miles in a day. They would spend the night in Berriton, and there collect the mage from the College who would be standing in for the late Tagaza. They would spend the second night in a Royal shelter, and reach the Cauldron by midafternoon on the third day. There was another shelter there where they would wait until just before midnight, at which time they would go to “inspect” the Cauldron.
When they returned, regrettably without Brenna, Falk would be King.
The spring equinox, when he had originally planned to take this final step, simply because that was the usual time for the inspection of the Cauldron, was still a month away. But in light of recent events, he’d decided to advance the schedule. Even with Verdsmitt now working against the Common Cause, he didn’t believe for a moment that the back of the rebellion was broken, though all had been quiet for a few days and he had already begun the magical rebuilding of the Square’s shattered structures. Best to seize complete control of the Kingdom as soon as possible.
The word had gone out to the army. Troops were already moving out on “winter exercises” that would ensure they were in position to quell any unrest that might follow the King’s death. Unbound within the Barrier, in the Colleges of Mages and Healers and elsewhere, were ready to act forcefully against those Mageborn-and even MageLords-who might balk at his ascension to the Throne. Everything was ready.
He took a deep breath, savoring the imminent completion of his Plan. Twenty years. And now, just a couple of more days…
Brenna emerged from the door behind him, accompanied by her guard. Wearing a white fur coat and hat with black fur trim, she looked very young. Falk knew her imminent fate was entirely unfair, not her fault, etc., and if there had been any other way for him to bring down the Barrier, he would have taken it. He was no monster, taking pleasure from the murder of innocents, whatever the Commons and certain disloyal Mageborn might think. But in this case, as in so many others, there was simply no alternative. Brenna was the Heir, and the Heir had to die so he could seize the Keys and free the MageLords from their prison. It was the SkyMage’s will, and that was that.
Still, he thought he would prefer not to talk to her, and so as she and her guard got into the main body of the carriage, he climbed up beside Robinton.
“Going to be cold up here, sir!” Robinton warned. “Are you sure don’t want to ride inside where it’s… well, I wouldn’t want to say, ‘warm,’ but I might be willing to go as far as ‘warmer.’ ”
“I’ll be fine,” Falk assured him. “I may not have a warmcoat like the one your wife gave you, but I can shield myself. But thank you for your concern.” He grinned. “Anyway, Robinton, we’ll all be warm soon enough, won’t we?”
Robinton shuddered. “The Cauldron. Been there twice now. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that little piece of hell on Earth, though.”
Falk laughed. “Personally, I find it quite scenic.” He turned and banged on the roof of the carriage, then shouted, “All set in there?”
“Yes, my lord,” came the guard’s voice.
“Excellent!” Falk said. “Then…” He nodded to Robinton. “At your convenience.”
“I think now is quite convenient,” said Robinton, and the carriage trundled away from the Palace, across the bridge, through the Gate, and into the streets of New Cabora, their road taking them through the Square, where the Courthouse was once again taking shape, mages lifting the fallen beams and stones into place. The Commoners there took one quick look at the magecarriage, saw who was riding it, and either looked away or found sudden pressing business down alleys and side streets. Falk smiled to himself. A cowed population was a quiescent population, and quiescence in the Commons suited him perfectly just now.
Twenty minutes after driving through the Gate, they trundled past the final outlying buildings of the city and onto the road north. Drawing just enough energy from the coal burner to keep himself comfortably warm, Lord Falk gazed down the road stretching straight as an arrow from their rolling wheels to the flat, distant horizon.
As far as he was concerned, they couldn’t reach its end fast enough.