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‘What about your parents? Surely they –’

‘They’re dead,’ said Bel. ‘An accident, when I was very little. Drowned.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Clariel. ‘My parents annoy me, but it would be terrible …’

‘I never knew them,’ said Bel, with a shrug. ‘I doubt things would be any different if they were still alive. Whatever Great-Uncle says goes for everybody, so when he wanted me out that was it. I’m supposed to be an ambassador from the Abhorsen to the city, a presence here when such is needed. Only ceremonially, of course, not for anything important. There’s not even much ceremony now the King is … avoiding everyone.’

‘But you do things with Magister Kargrin,’ said Clariel.

‘I’m a student of Magister Kargrin’s,’ said Bel, his pale face lighting up. ‘He’s about the only person who’s ever taught me anything useful. I mean, I’ve had to learn everything else by myself, from books, and from asking Mog— … from asking someone, but that’s never straightforward. Kargrin shows me the marks, and how to put them together, and to swim in the flow of the Charter. I’ve learned more Charter Magic from him in the last six months than from all my relatives in ten years!’

‘My best teachers are far away,’ said Clariel. ‘Sergeant Penreth and the Oddsby Beacon Hunters and Aunt Lemmin and her herbs. But I’ll see them soon.’

She stood up and went over to the window, looking out. They were still high up, some fifty feet or more, and the view was into an interior courtyard and across to a wall on the other side, rather than the gardens she had hoped to see.

‘I hope you can get away,’ said Bel. ‘From Kilp and Aronzo, I mean. It’s a pity you aren’t going to stay though, since I’m sure there will be more trouble and we need everyone. But at least we got that Free Magic creature.’

‘What?’ asked Clariel, spinning around in surprise. ‘But we didn’t!’

Bel laughed, then grimaced as he reached for a grape, the movement pulling his wounded shoulder.

‘Well, when I say we, I mean Kargrin’s people in general.’

‘What happened?’ asked Clariel. ‘No one told … Gullaine didn’t tell me.’

‘Kargrin’s a sly one,’ said Bel, tossing a grape up to catch in his mouth, and missing so that it rolled down his chest. ‘Oops. He had Mistress Ader and that snaggle-toothed servant of hers hidden on the beach –’

‘Mistress Ader! From the Academy?’

‘Yes,’ said Bel. He paused in the act of popping the recalcitrant grape in his mouth. ‘She’s a mighty Charter Mage. Didn’t you know?’

‘No,’ said Clariel. ‘I don’t even know who her snaggle-toothed servant is. I guess I don’t know very much.’

‘You’ve only been here a little while,’ said Bel, reaching for another grape and wincing again. ‘City’s complicated. Very complicated.’

‘Yes,’ said Clariel grimly. ‘Too complicated for me. So Mistress Ader ambushed Az— … the creature.’

‘Caught it in a storm of Charter marks, forced it into a bottle,’ said Bel. ‘Least, that’s what Kargrin told me this morning. Very difficult, those binding spells. I’ll learn them one day. I know some of the master marks, but you have to build up to them. They’ll kill you otherwise, burn your throat or blast your fingers off.’

Clariel turned back to the window, and looked out at the blue sky and the sun. So Aziminil was back in a bottle, trapped by magic in a tiny prison, never to emerge. She shivered, thinking of such confinement herself. But at the same time she told herself Aziminil was a Free Magic creature, something inimical to mortal life. She had to be captured and imprisoned.

Didn’t she?

‘When are you going?’ asked Bel.

‘As soon as I can,’ said Clariel. ‘I have to see Kargrin first, to get my money and some help out of the city. Maybe tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow!’ Bel nearly choked on his grape. ‘When you said soon, I thought you meant a few weeks, or months. Tomorrow …’

‘If I can,’ said Clariel. She looked back at Bel, who was staring at her. ‘What?’

‘Oh, I just thought,’ muttered Bel. ‘I … ah … thought perhaps we could get to know each other better …’

Clariel frowned. She knew this kind of talk from young men, and that it had to be nipped in the bud.

‘I’m not interested in romance,’ she said. ‘Love, marriage … none of that. Besides, what about you and Denima?’

‘We’re friends,’ protested Bel. ‘And I just, you know, I like you. I thought we have things in common, being Abhorsens –’

‘I don’t think the rest of your family would consider me an Abhorsen,’ said Clariel. ‘Do you know why my mother never speaks to them?’

‘Not really,’ said Bel. ‘Only I thought it was they who don’t speak to her. It’s pretty easy to cross Great-Uncle Tyriel, he’s a mean-spirited old curmudgeon. What did she do? Steal his favourite horse when she ran away from Hillfair?’

Clariel shook her head.

‘No. It’s not for me to speak of it. Enough to say that there is a great divide, one that I’m sure extends to me as well.’

‘This Abhorsen sees no divide and is very grateful to you,’ said Bel. ‘I hope we can stay friends, Clariel. I’m not the bothersome kind, it was just a momentary rush of blood to the head, you understand.’

Clariel laughed. A short, almost sardonic laugh.

‘You don’t look like you’ve got much blood anywhere. You’re paler than ever.’

‘I am a bit tired,’ said Bel. He hesitated, then added, ‘But you know I’m pale because I’ve walked in Death, right?’

‘No …’ said Clariel, looking at him again. ‘I have heard people speak of it a few times. That the Abhorsens can enter Death, and return.’

‘Yes, we can,’ said Bel simply. ‘You probably could too. It is also your heritage. With proper training, of course. It is very dangerous.’

‘The living world is enough for me,’ said Clariel. ‘That is, a world really alive. Not surrounded by all this stone, hemmed in and confined. Ah, I wish I was back in the Forest!’

The creak of the door announced Gullaine’s return.

‘Thank you once more, for my life,’ said Bel. ‘Travel safely. Perhaps we’ll meet again one day. As friends.’

‘Yes,’ said Clariel. ‘As friends. Take care of your wound.’

‘Your parents await you,’ said Gullaine to Clariel. ‘I believe your mother is most anxious to talk to you about the King’s gift.’

‘That’s no surprise,’ said Clariel. She left the room thinking about Bel being an orphan, and what it would mean to her parents when they found her gone. Perhaps it would be a blow to them, even to her mother, though she suspected her absence would soon be forgotten amid Jaciel’s work. Besides, she told herself, she had little choice. The city was drawing her in like a whirlpool, a devourer of ships, with so many different tangles and plots and dangers.


Tags: Garth Nix Abhorsen Fantasy