Spellslinger (Spellslinger #1)(107)
‘Then come back!’ she pleaded, her voice cracking and the flickers of light disappearing from her hands.
‘There’s no place for me back there.’ I reached up with the sleeve of my shirt and rubbed at my left eye. I was going to need to apply more of Mer’esan’s paste soon. ‘It’s over for me, Shalla.’
She ran up to me and grabbed hold of my arm, an oddly childish gesture for her. ‘But you can stay, don’t you see? Father has the support of most of the council already, and once people hear what Ra’meth tried to do—’
‘And what our uncle tried to do too.’
She shook her head, dismissing the notion. ‘He was Sha’Tep. Everyone understands that. Besides, people think Father sent you to put a stop to it – that our family dealt with the problem. It’s a sign of our house’s dignity.’
Dignity seemed like the wrong choice of word to me. ‘I can’t help but notice that Ke’heops isn’t here to thank me personally.’
She looked uncomfortable, and I realised she had begged him to come. ‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘It’s better this way.’
‘It’s complicated,’ she said.
I couldn’t help but smile at that. I reached out and took a piece of her hair in my hand. It was one of those stupid things we used to do as kids – a kind of taunt that masked affection. We never were a hugging family, but I decided I didn’t care for once what kind of family we were and pulled her into an embrace. Surprisingly she didn’t strike me down with lightning or fire or even a nasty look.
‘Things don’t have to change,’ she insisted, hanging on to me as if the wind was about to send me drifting down the road. ‘Father said you wouldn’t even have to be Sha’Tep. You can stay with us while he and Mother find a way to keep your … condition from—’
‘Our laws state that anyone with the shadowblack can be killed without consequence. Why would Father ever allow me to live under his roof?’ I asked. The answer came to me almost immediately: the great and honourable Ke’heops had come to see that protecting a house like ours sometimes became an ugly business. I had shown that I could do those ugly things for him. I could be our family’s enforcer, the one he sent to deal with our enemies. After all, it’s not like my soul can be saved anyway.
As gently as I could, I pushed Shalla away. ‘I love you, little sister. I reckon that’s never going to change.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You “reckon”? Don’t you dare start talking like that Ferius woman, Kellen. You’re not some Argosi wanderer. You’re a Jan’Tep of the House of Ke.’
I thought about the card that was even now sitting in my pocket, the one painted to look like me. The ‘Spellslinger’. A Discordance. A disturbance that could change the direction of the world. It sure didn’t sound like me.
But it didn’t sound too bad either.
I turned back to the horse, took a firm hold of the saddle and put my foot in the stirrup. ‘What I am, Shalla, is a sixteen-year-old with one spell, a squirrel cat for a business partner and a death sentence written in black shadow around my left eye.’ I took the horse’s reins and nudged him into motion. ‘I need to find out if I can be something more than that.’
Shalla cut me off, hands out in front of her, fingers already preparing a spell for which I had no counter. ‘Stop! I’ll strike you down, Kellen. I will.’
The glare of her magic was so bright I could see it reflecting off grains of sand on the road between us. ‘Follow your conscience, Shalla. It’s all any of us can do.’
I nudged the horse again. Reluctantly, the beast started moving. Even more reluctantly, Shalla let us pass. We had gone only a few yards when she called out after me. ‘You’ll be hunted, don’t you understand? Without the protection of the clan, every Jan’Tep mage on the continent will be duty-bound to kill you. The Daromans won’t take you in and neither will the Berabesq. You’ll be alone, Kellen! You’ll spend the entire rest of your life as an outcast.’
I pulled on the reins, just for a moment, and turned to give my sister my very best smile before continuing on my way out of town. ‘Reckon I prefer the term “outlaw”.’
Acknowledgements
It took seven perilous and peculiar spells to bring the world of Spellslinger to life. Thankfully, the master mages of my literary life were equal to the challenge.
A Conjuration of Inspiration
My friend and occasional writing partner Eric Torin, as he does with all of my books, posed the questions that most needed to be answered in order to bring Spellslinger to life.
An Incantation of Purpose
I never tried writing a novel until I met my wife Christina, who makes marriage the best and most alluring adventure an otherwise aimless rogue could ever hope for.
An Evocation of Exploration
Members past and present of my excellent (and exceedingly nasty) writing group saw many different versions of Spellslinger, always telling me with (again, exceedingly nasty) candour what worked and what needed rewriting. My ongoing thanks to Kim Tough, Wil Arndt, Brad Dehnert, Claire Ryan, Sarah Figueroa, and Jim Hull of Narrative First.
Some of my favourite people took the time to read earlier drafts of the novel and help me see both what was working and what was not. My thanks to Anna Webster, Mike Church, Sandra Glass, Sarah Bagshaw, Dougal Muir, Kat Zeller, and Sam Chandola.