VI: The Circle of Magi

The doors loomed before Kestrel, solid and foreboding. His eyes traced the intricate carvings upon them: a leaping dolphin, a prowling tiger, a strutting peacock, a twisting serpent, a roaring leopard.

And the eagle of Shanneray House, wings spread in full flight. Almost identical to the one on his sash. His heart, already racing madly, pounded against his ribcage like it wanted to escape. The back of his neck was slick with sweat.

It didn’t help when Lady Dulmer leaned into his personal space. “Remember everything I told you?” Her breath smelled of tobacco.

Kestrel nodded mutely, though he didn’t. Who could blame him when Lady Dulmer had only shown up fifteen minutes ago to drag him to the Circle, lecturing him about protocol on their way there? He could only hope he didn’t make too big a fool of himself.

“You’ll be fine,” Lady Dulmer continued in a tone that she probably intended to sound encouraging, but came off as smarmy instead. “Nobody’s expecting much from your first session, anyhow.”

The sound of footsteps saved Kestrel from having to answer. As they grew louder, he made out the distinct clunk of a walking stick as well, and soon Dracen Thandemar and Ilya rounded the corner.

“Good morning, Lord Knight,” Dracen said after returning Lady Dulmer’s bow. “Are you looking forward to the session?”

Ilya elbowed him. “Who actually looks forward to these things?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kestrel didn’t miss Lady Dulmer’s frown. Yet Dracen didn’t seem to mind Ilya’s rudeness; he even smiled and patted Ilya’s head, making the ministra sputter indignantly.

It was hard not to smile watching them. They didn’t act much like any bonded couple Kestrel knew, but their caring for each other was obvious. Yet why did a strange unease stir in Kestrel’s stomach? It wasn’t because Ilya was behaving too familiarly or whatnot; no, it was because….

Half-heard voices in the infirmary. A waking dream, or something real? But the memory was muffled; Kestrel had already forgotten what they had said. If it had indeed even happened.

The toll of a bell, deep and reverberating, knocked Kestrel out of his thoughts. He glanced around wildly and saw Dracen and Ilya had already reached for the doors.

Next to him, Lady Dulmer sketched a bow. “Best of luck, Lord Knight.” Then she was gone.

The doors swung open with a great groan, wafting out a blast of cold, dusty air. Mind numb, Kestrel followed Dracen and Ilya into the Circle Chamber.

Paneled in dark mahogany, it was dour and solemn just like the doors, and each of the high-backed chairs around the round table was also carved with a High House sigil. Dracen offered Kestrel an encouraging smile before striding to the chair carved with the Thandemar tiger, his walking stick tapping a persistent beat beside him.

It didn’t take Kestrel long to find the Shanneray seat. He trailed his fingertips along the eagle’s incised feathers before taking a deep breath and sitting down. The chair was painfully hard, forcing him to sit straighter than he'd like. Above him, a grotty mural on the ceiling depicted a group of serious-faced magi sitting around the same table. The First Circle.

Pair by pair the others drifted inside, their clothes splotches of color in the dim room. The ministra drew chairs for their energi before kneeling on the tasseled cushions beside the chairs. Kestrel glanced at the gray-and-bronze cushion next to him and his pulse raced faster. He already couldn't wait to leave.

Lady Teresa Urchkas, however, took the serpent-carved chair. Her tall, pointy-faced energos eschewed the cushion and stood behind her, arms folded like a bodyguard. Kestrel forced himself not to stare. The seat carved with the Hazan leopard remained empty.

Last came Lord Alexandir Pavos, who kissed his golden-haired ministra atop the head before assuming the seat to the right of the Hazan one. He glanced at the chair at the head of the table, which bore the royal dragons-and-staff. "Is this everyone? Will His Highness not be joining us?"

"Give him a few minutes, my lord," said Savine Aluana, representative of the Coastlands. She was a slight, dark-skinned woman whose sash displayed her House’s leaping dolphin. "I'm sure he wouldn't miss a meeting of such import."

As if on cue, the doors creaked open.

All the energi tensed at once, their bodies becoming taut and alert—a reaction to unexpectedly sensing a ministra. Kestrel strove to imitate them, but none were paying him any attention.

No, they all watched as Aramy Basquiale swept into the Circle Chamber. While dressed less sumptuously than at the banquet, his robes were still fine, embroidered with an eye-catching motif of scarlet dahlias. When he reached the head of the table, rather than kneel on the cushion, he assumed the chair and flicked open a fan before his face.

"Please excuse my tardiness, my lords and ladies," he said. "Now we can get this meeting started."

"Excuse me?" Savine said. "What about His Highness?"

"I regret to inform you that he will not be able to join us. In lieu of him, I shall act as Azed House's representative. He gave his permission."

"The matter concerns him." Dracen sounded calm, but Kestrel saw how his brows had drawn together, and kneeling beside him, Ilya wasn't bothering to disguise the hatred on his face.

"I'd say it concerns me, does it not? I'm the one the assassin targeted,” Aramy said. "Now, it appears we are all in attendance aside from Lord Hazan, may the First watch over him and guide his speedy recovery. Lord Pavos, will you accept the role of Acting Chair for today's session?"

"It would be my pleasure, Lord Basquiale," Alexandir Pavos purred. He picked up the gavel with languid ease, if he'd done this hundreds of times before.

Then he spoke with the rolling cadences of a chant, and Kestrel sat straighter. "A circle has no beginning, and a circle has no end. Let the elements guide our eternal circle. Let the First and the Ancestors bless our eternal Houses. As Acting Chair of the Circle of Magi, I, Lord Alexandir Pavos, Heir to the Forestlands, declare this session open."

He banged the gavel; the sound echoed in the cavernous space.

Now that the meeting had begun, each member would speak in order of precedence. Which meant Kestrel would go last.

"First on the agenda," Alexandir said, and his forest-green eyes locked with Kestrel's. It took all of Kestrel's willpower not to scoot his chair back. "I would like to welcome the newest member of the Circle to his first meeting. Lord Kestrel Knight, may your time among us prove fruitful to all Senero."

"Th-thank you, my lord," Kestrel stammered out. Four Winds. He did not like the way Alexandir was looking at him, like a merchant appraising a collection of paste jewels.

"And it so happens that what I'd like to discuss involves you. Congratulations on your recovery, by the way. It would have been terrible indeed if the assassin's attack had succeeded in taking a life."

What? Kestrel’s breath hitched. They expected me to die?

He couldn't help glancing at Aramy, but behind the fan, all he saw were Aramy’s narrowed eyes.