Brightly Woven(55)

“If you take him, you’ll be going through me first,” Owain warned. “Don’t think I won’t break that pretty face of yours.”

The wizard favored him with a look of annoyance, but Owain didn’t back down.

“I’m here to tell you that the Sorceress Imperial wishes to speak to you,” the wizard said. “Though I have no idea why she continues to waste her time with you.”

North chuckled. “Maybe she just likes me better than you, Ollie.”

This is Oliver, I thought, the very same one I had been hearing about for so long. His dark hair was perfectly trimmed, and he was shorter and stockier than North. With that uniform and loud voice, he had seemed much older at first glance. But now I saw the way his teeth ground together when North spoke and how his hands were fidgeting with the red fabric braided into the hilt of his sword.

“This routine of yours ceased to be amusing when we were children,” Oliver said. “You’ll come with me and avoid making a fool out of yourself in front of your kind.”

“I’ll go with you, but only because I have something to say to her as well,” North said. “Owain, will you take Syd upstairs when you’re done? I’ll be back a bit later.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but North was faster.

“Go with Owain,” he said to me in a tight voice. “I’ll make sure she understands.”

I stood, grabbing my bag in defiance. North looked as if he was about to reach across the table and give me a hard shake.

“Lass,” Owain said slowly. “The lad will be all right, and we can get a good night’s rest.”

Oliver was staring right at me, his eyes burning. When he spoke again, his voice was hard and unyielding.

“Bring the girl, too.”

North refused to look at me as we left the Good Queen, but he took my arm as we stepped out into the dark, emptying streets. His cloaks were once again tied around his neck.

Instead of going through the inner gate of the castle, we made a sharp turn toward another building at the far end of the street. It had been styled in the same ancient way as the castle, with dozens of columns lining its grand entryway.

“I thought she’d be in the castle,” North said to Oliver.

“In case it slipped your mind, Wayland, there is a war going on,” Oliver said sharply. “While you’ve been prancing around the countryside, we’ve been preparing for it.”

“I’m trying to feel sorry for you, really, I am,” North said. “If you wait just a moment, I’m sure the tears will come.”

“Oh, shut up!” Oliver burst out. He started to whirl around but seemed to catch himself. His hands clenched in fists at his side, and he picked up his pace.

Quite the temper, I thought. My eyes drifted down once more to the red hilt of his sword before I glanced at North. “Where are we?” I whispered, gazing up at the statues of Astraea lining the roof of the building.

“The Wizard Command,” North said. “The center of operations for all of the world’s wizards, including the island nations.”

“And the Sorceress Imperial is in charge of all of the wizards?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why I had thought her command was limited to the wizards of Palmarta. North simply nodded, his eyes falling to his black boots.

“Listen, I’m sure you know this, but the Wizard Command has always served under the royals as their protectors and servants,” North said in a low voice. “But there’ve always been a few high-ranking wizards who believe that the Command should function independently and be granted full control over military affairs.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. Oliver glanced back, as if to make sure we were still following him.

“So you’ll understand why this isn’t going to be easy,” North said. “I think the Sorceress Imperial sees the queen as an easy target. Queen Eglantine is young and inexperienced, and this is the best opportunity the Command has had in years to bully a royal into becoming a puppet, rather than a leader. To shift the balance of power, possibly forever.”

“I understand,” I said.

“What are you two talking about?” Oliver called. His eyes flicked back and forth between us, and I saw that his left hand was fiddling with the hilt of his sword again.

“About how lovely and wonderful you are, Ollie,” North said. Oliver’s face colored, and he turned on his heel. I shot North a look, but he only shrugged his shoulders and followed him.

Passing a small crowd of wizards, we came through an elaborately carved entryway of statues and murals. The wizards’ heads were bent in serious discussion, but a few glanced up as we passed.

A long line of wizards was waiting in front of a desk set up in the middle of the chamber. Each looked more miserable than the next. Despite the crowd, the wizard at the desk did not appear hurried.

“Your assignment is ground soldier. You will report here at dawn every morning for further instructions.” The man crossed the name from the list. “Next wizard!”

We walked past the line and continued down the long hall. North tried to keep his face hidden, but I had the sneaking suspicion that we were gathering more and more looks as we proceeded. Oliver seemed to relish it, taking long, confident strides down the marble floor.

How can he have such a high position, I wondered, and at such a young age?