Inker and Crown

Chapter 9

9

Mara

Long ago, before the light of Ilbrea entered the world, great beasts roamed the white mountains. Bears that could devour a man in one swallow. Wolves that could outpace the wind as they ran across the snow. The horrors that filled the white kept even the bravest of men away from the snows of the northern mountains.

Every once in a while, a brave man would glance north, dreaming of adventure. An icy chill would race down his spine at the sight of the mountains that pierced the clouds in the sky. The man would remember why the white belonged to the beasts, and his dreams of adventure would vanish.

Men cannot survive in the land where winter never leaves. The lady born of the ice has―

“I’m not sure if you didn’t get the better end of the deal.”

Niko’s words pulled Mara’s attention from the book in her lap.

“Really?” Mara leaned back against the stone wall of the mausoleum. “So far in my reading, I have horrible monsters, ice that holds spirits, n***d women dancing through the snow, and I’ve just gotten to a bit about a woman born of ice.”

“You automatically won with the n***d women dancing in the snow,” Niko said.

Adrial gave a low laugh from his corner of the mausoleum. He’d laid a tan blanket down before sitting on the floor, but even still, his pristine white robes seemed absurd against the swirling pink and gray of the polished stone walls.

“See, Mara, even our innocent Adrial agrees with me.” Niko picked up the next book in his stack. “n***d women always win for best journey.”

“It’s not that.” Adrial looked up from his own reading. “I was laughing as I imagined what Allora would say if she heard your excitement at the possibility of magical n***d women.”

“At least they would give me something cheerful to look at,” Niko said. “If the myths and legends of the eastern mountains hold any truth, then I have ghostly bandits, mountains that eat people, and shadow monsters to look forward to.”

“Are you saying you’d rather not go on your journey?” Allora stood in the door of the mausoleum. The hinges hadn’t even squeaked when she’d come in, and the door shut soundlessly behind her, blocking out the chill of the night wind. “If you wanted to stay in Ilara and work with the apprentices, I’m sure I could convince father―”

“I want to go to the eastern mountains.” Niko picked up a new book. “I crave adventure, long to explore, and have given my vow to Lord Karron that I will spend my life finding the magic hidden in the shadows even if it means risking the Lady Sorcerer hanging me from her black stone tower.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Allora set her basket down and sat beside Niko. “If the King or the sorcerers found out you were hiding evidence of magic outside the Guilds’ control, you wouldn’t be hanged from the sorcerers tower.”

“Do you really place that much faith in my undeniable charm?” Niko asked.

“No,” Allora laughed. “But if you were caught and hanged, they would display you in the cathedral square. It’s tradition.”

“No one is going to be hanged anywhere,” Mara said.

“She’s right,” Niko said, “we’d just disappear in the middle of the night. A public hanging might make people wonder what we’d done wrong, and the sorcerers can’t afford that sort of scrutiny.”

“The sorcerers aren’t going to come after anyone,” Mara said, “because we won’t give them any reason to. Niko and I know how to be careful. No one on our journeys will notice us hunting for magic, and we keep our true maps hidden from anyone who might turn us in. Allora is guarding the maps we’ve already made, and Adrial―”

“Don’t worry about me,” Adrial said. “I didn’t even have to sneak the books of myths and stories out of the library this time. I’ve been trying to find a way to make the vellum for Princess Illia something she might actually be grateful to have. I’ve been hunting through old stories for ideas for making the illuminated illustrations more appealing to her while maintaining the history of Ilbrea.”

“Have you had any luck?” Niko reached into Allora’s basket.

Allora swatted his hand away.

“Not really,” Adrial said, “but it gave me a good excuse for taking every book I could find with any hint of magic that pointed to the eastern or white mountains.”

“The Princess is fifteen,” Mara said. “Does she really find fairy stories to be more interesting than the history of the country her family rules?”

“Probably,” Niko said.

“Be kind, Niko,” Allora said.

“When you were her age, you’d taken over the running of your father’s house and established yourself as the Lady of the Map Makers Guild,” Niko said.

“You’d taught a bastard orphan to read and battled against the Guilds to get him apprenticed as a scribe,” Adrial said.

“And saved your best friend from despair and stood against your own father to help her fight for her dreams,” Mara finished.

“Thank you all very much for your praise.” A faint blush rose to Allora’s cheeks. “But you’re being unfair to Illia. You can’t judge her by our standards. We had each other, and were able to travel, and were given freedom the poor Princess can’t even properly imagine. The girl is engaged to a man she’s never met and has never slept a night outside the Royal Palace. You can’t expect her to be grown up and grand, she’s never had a chance to spread her wings.”

“You’re right.” Niko kissed Allora’s hand. “But don’t let your compassion make you forget how spectacular you are, Allora.”

“I won’t.” Allora looked away from Niko as her blush shifted to a brighter pink. “It’s going to be a long night, so I smuggled us some provisions.” She pulled a bottle of chamb, four glasses, a box of sweetmeats, and a box of cheese from her basket.

“You are the most brilliant girl to have ever lived.” Niko pulled open the bottle of chamb.

Mara looked to Adrial in time to see him wince at the presence of food and drink so near the books.

“Do you ever wonder if they’ll write stories about us?” Niko poured Allora a glass of chamb.

“About our betrayal of the Guilds?” Allora sipped her chamb. “I hope they don’t.”

“I don’t mean fables of our executions. I mean about all the wonders we’ve discovered.” Niko passed Mara a glass.

“That would depend.” Adrial closed the book he’d been reading and set it on his lap. “In order for a scribe to record the wild magic you’ve seen, the Sorcerers Guild would have to admit that there is, in fact, magic in the world that is not under the control of the Lady Sorcerer. Which, in an ideal Ilbrea, would be easy. Welcomed even.

“By discovering animals with unnatural abilities, you would be offering the sorcerers resources they don’t currently have. The same could be said of stones that hold magic, people who hide their magic, places that shield magic. Every bit of power that hides in the shadows holds untapped potential a practical person would be thrilled to discover. But to accept that any of those resources exist, the sorcerers would have to admit they are not the only source of magic in Ilbrea.”

“Which would make them vulnerable.” Allora shuddered.

“They are vulnerable.” Niko took her hand. “The Lady Sorcerer pretends we all have to grovel at her feet, but she’s wrong. Someday, the Guilds and all Ilbrea will figure that out, and when they do, the true maps that your father, Mara, and I have been creating―the wonders you’ve been guarding―will make everyone see just how much Ilbrea has to offer.”

“You’re right. The sorcerers won’t lord over us forever.” Allora didn’t let go of Niko’s hand even as she set down her glass and reached across him to take a book from the stack Adrial had brought him.

The mausoleum settled back into silence as they all began reading again.

Men cannot survive in the land where winter never leaves. The lady born of the ice has…

Mara couldn’t make her mind focus on the story of the deadly queen who stained the northern snows with blood.

She liked reading the old stories and guessing what bits of the legends might have been born of truths. She needed to know as much as she could about what might wait for her and Tham in the white mountains.

But sitting in a mausoleum reading fairy stories always felt wrong to her, no matter how many times they’d hidden together while poring over books.

Sorcerer-made lights hung in each corner of the gray and pink marbled room, casting away any shadows that might have lurked amongst the dead. The walls held places for a dozen people to rest, but only one place had been claimed. Only one Karron had fallen since Lord Karron built the palace before Allora was born.

Mara looked up to the plaque that marked Allora’s mother’s resting place.

Alloretta Karron had died before Lord Karron had first discovered magic beyond the sorcerers’ control. She’d been gone for years before he started creating two different maps on every journey.

One map held the detailed drawing of the landscape the Guilds were willing to accept and the sorcerers were willing to allow. The other map, the true map, marked each of the places where wild magic existed, preserving their discoveries for a time when the truth could be told to all the people of Ilbrea.

“If this book is to be believed,” Allora said, “you might very well be trapped in an underground labyrinth.”

“Really?” Niko leaned close to Allora to peer over her shoulder.

Allora tensed for a moment before leaning closer to Niko, letting her shoulder rest against him. “If you happen to discover the Dark Hall, you might wander for a hundred miles and never see sunlight.”

“A hundred miles isn’t so bad,” Niko said. “Take that at a good pace, and you could cover the ground in well under a week.”

“But there might be ghosts stalking through the hall, trying to trap you for all eternity,” Allora said.

“I’ll just have to kindly explain to the ghosts that I can’t stay.” Niko tipped his head toward Allora’s.

She sank even closer to him, letting his cheek rest against the top of her head.

“I have people waiting for me in Ilara,” Niko said. “No amount of adventure, no horde of ghosts, could ever keep me away. I’ll always come home. No matter what it takes.”

Mara glanced to Adrial. They shared a smile before she looked back to her book.

Men cannot survive in the land where winter never leaves. The lady born of the ice has claimed her domain and will kill to keep it.

At the heart of the white mountains, beyond the peaks no man can climb, the lady lives in her palace of ice.

When she was born into the cold, there was no shelter for her. She spent her childhood always shivering in the snow.

But the white mountains would not let the snow child die. The cold protected her even as it stole every ounce of hope she’d been born with. Icicles weighed down her hair, and the frost that coated her body cracked and grew as the years passed and she left childhood behind.

At the dawn of her fifteenth year, the lady felt the first spark of magic fly through her veins, offering her deliverance from her solitude.

First, she let out a great shout, calling the largest and fastest of the wolves to her side.

Second, she beckoned the bear with the softest fur.

Finally, she summoned the most daring snow hawk.

The wolf, she made her mount, so she could charge south over the impassable peaks and to the lands of sunlight and warmth. The bear, she skinned to make herself a white coat so she would not be seen unclothed. The hawk, she bade fly south to bring her news of what waited for her beyond the edge of the white.

When the lady climbed onto her wolf, the mountains trembled. When she charged south, the stars grieved, for they knew only death could come out of the white mountains.