Mage Heart. Jane Routley
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all magical activity in a particular area, so that sometimes it can be quite empty. When centered on a big city like Gallia, however, where people buy all kinds of spells for all kinds of reasons, the view is more crowded than the most brilliant part of the heavens. With the help of a pack of Prophecy Cards, I began to search the bowl carefully for signs of a magical threat to Kitten Avignon. It is standard practice to do this daily when using a protection spell, so I was doing it, even though I was convinced that it was a waste of time. Michael had always had contempt for useless people, and it rankled me that I was wasting my power soothing this woman merely because she was immoral enough to share the Duke's bed, and he was fool enough to listen to her because of it. But before I had got very far with the search, there was a knock at the door. To my astonishment it was Garthan Redon.
Garthan was one of those students every school seems to have-one of the leaders of the college, smart, charming, and good-looking. The Redons were rumored to be close to the Ducal family. Whether they were or not, Garthan had success written all over him in big, strong, clean letters. What on earth was he doing visiting me?
"My mother sent me a honey cake," he said. "Thought you might like some."
"Oh," I said. "Um ... Thank you." I'd never even spoken to him before. Somehow it was hard to imagine such a hero having a mother, especially one who sent him honey cake. I realized that I was standing there staring at him.
"Please come in," I said, hoping I wasn't committing some serious breach of propriety. "Would you like some tea? Please sit down."
I pulled some books off one of the chairs and tossed them on my bed. He looked around the room and caught sight of the Bowl of Seeing in the corner.
"Hmm. What are you looking at?" he said, peering into it. He fingered the Cards of Prophecy lying beside it. Cards of Prophecy are used to help determine the identities of particular points of light in the bowl.
"Oh. Nothing in particular," I said as calmly as I could. I ran my hand quickly over the surface of the bowl to clear it. He probably couldn't have seen anything anyway, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
"Are you doing a protection spell?"
"Oh, no! No! Of course not. I just like to watch what's going on sometimes. You know. The magic and countermagic. Jasmine tea?"
"Fine," he said. He stretched out in the chair and began to ask questions about my studies and how I liked Gallia. I fussed around finding clean beakers and boiling water on my little oil stove. It was pleasant to have a visitor, although I would have preferred someone less daunting than Garthan.
The time I'd been protecting Kitten Avignon had been more than usually difficult. Oh, the spell was easy enough. Protection is one of the first spells a young mage learns. Any mage can do it, and, being a defensive spell, as long as it is regularly maintained even weak mages can hold it against quite strong opponents. The problem was that it was one of those tasks, so common in magic, which require a constant low level of attention without being interesting enough to absorb you. There was no way, for instance, I could continue with my hazia dreams. Of course, I had already sworn off, and, logically, I knew it was a good thing that the temptation was closed to me. I'd have been a fool to continue after my last experience.
But though I had used enough magic when casting the spell to be emotionally affected by it, maintaining it was such a low-level task that the coldness of magic did not operate and I was once again prey to boredom and self-pity. I tried to stave off the boredom by going on with Michael's work on stones and by doing the mathematical problems that Master John had kindly offered to set me. Naturally I failed.
Garthan gave me a slice of honey cake and accepted a beaker of tea in return. "So," he said. "Rumor has it that you've had an audience with the Duke."
I almost choked on my honey cake.
"How ... ? Who told you?"
"So you did then?"
I was trapped now. I'd as good as said yes. What a fool. The Duke had said it was a secret. Tell them you are doing healing he'd said. But Garthan was a mage. He was never going to accept a story like that.
"Yes," I admitted.
"By the Seven! That's not a thing to keep to yourself. What was it like?"
"Good. Yes. Good."
"Good?" echoed Garthan a little derisively. "Tell me about it. How is Duke Leon these days? Who else was there? Did you get to see Kitten Avignon?"
Oh Angel! How much did he know? How much did everyone know?
I tried not to panic.
"Yes," I said carefully, staring into my tea. "She was there."
"Tanza. I've seen her riding in the city. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. None of the ladies at court will speak to her, but everyone copies her dresses. Did you get to meet her? They say she can charm the birds off the trees."
"No," I said, risking a lie which was almost a truth. "The Duke didn't introduce us."
"Well lucky you anyway. Where did you go? Were you in the Peacock Room or the Throne Room?"
He plied me with questions which I did my best to answer as noncommittally as possible. I got no pleasure out of the conversation. All the time I was wondering what I would say when he asked me why I had gone there.
But Garthan was subtler than that.
"Did you see Lady Jassie there?" he asked.
I stared at him in surprise. Lady Jacinta Ren-Sahr was the Duke's six-year-old daughter, the oldest of his three illegitimate children.
"No. Why ... ?"
"Oh! Just thought you might have. Some of the chaps have been saying that the Duke's hired you to protect her."
I laughed with relief.
"Oh no. Heavens! No! Nothing like that. He just wanted to talk to me about my foster father, Michael of Moria."
"Perhaps there's someone else he wants protected. I couldn't help noticing the Bow 1 of Seeing ..."
Relief had given me confidence. He was on the wrong track. I was safe.
"Well, he didn't mention it if he did. No, I think he wants to extend Michael's pension to me. After all, I haven't got many other prospects, have I?"
I was pleased with this explanation. The remark about my prospects had the ring of irrefutable fact. I had believed it myself till a few weeks ago, and I could see from Garthan's uneasy face that he did, too.
He stayed a little longer, trying to prod me into making a confession about Lady Jassie, but my heart was lightened by my escape and I held firm to my explanation with little trouble. He left disappointed. I closed the door behind him with a sigh of relief. If this was what socializing with the other students was going to be like, it would be better for my peace of mind to keep well away from them.
I could understand why Garthan had thought of Lady Jassie. If one were to hire a woman mage at all, it might well be as guardian-mage to a six-year-old girl. But the usual male mage would do just as well and provoke much less of an outcry. I'd wondered several times in this light why the Duke had hired me to protect his beloved mistress.
My position in the world of magery was a very peculiar one. There were rumored to be powerful female mages in the faraway West, but in Gallia and the familiar countries of the Peninsula, women did not study advanced magic as I had done. Healing was women's magic. There was a powerful belief that women were not intelligent enough to grasp advanced magics and that even if they were, they were not reliable enough to use the magic of power responsibly. They were, after all, ruled by the illogical promptings of the womb.
My foster father, Michael, had adopted and educated me with the specific intention of exploring this belief.
The earliest memory I have of him (almost the earliest memory I have at all) concerns a colored ball. It was one of those little balls made out of strips of colored felt, in this case red, blue, and white, and stuffed with clean rags. I think