*No! Don't kill her!*
The hound's voice was faint and blurred, but hearing it aborted the downward thrust that would have plunged the steel point of the staff through Medea's throat. It also drew Hekate's eyes to the black body on the floor. The hound was moving, his feet scrabbling for a grip on the polished stones. In that moment of inattention, Hekate lost her advantage. When she turned back to Medea, flashes of light were streaming at her from the princess, who had managed to push her chair back out of Hekate's reach.
*If you harm her, we'll never escape,* Kabeiros said, his mental voice clearer.
The daggers and streams of light shattered into bright sparkles that diffused into nothing. Hekate saw that with her inner eye; her outer ones were fixed on Medea, who was plainly shocked by the failure of her attack spells. Pretending she had never noticed Medea's attempt, Hekate parted her lips in an expression of fear and pleading, and let the staff droop in her hands, as if she had not the strength or will to carry through her threat and was terrified by what she had done. Meanwhile she noticed that the red had faded from Medea's skin. Likely she had been lightly burned when the serpent's shields were destroyed by the lash of Hekate's power.
Actually Hekate was glad Medea's shields had been strong enough to resist that blast. Neither was she tempted to send any destructive spell against her now that her shields were burnt away. However, it was no scruple against murder that made Hekate lower the staff; Medea would be no loss to the world. What kept her passive was her knowledge that Kabeiros spoke the horrible truth. If she killed Medea, escape from Colchis would be well-nigh impossible.
Whatever Aietes' doubts about his daughter, if she were killed, those doubts would be forgotten and he would muster the whole strength of Colchis to take revenge. Neither could Hekate hope simply to disguise herself and travel separately from Kabeiros. Aietes knew she could wear an "illusion." It would not be beyond the king's power to prevent any and all persons from leaving Colchis until he laid his hands upon the one who had murdered his daughter.
Unfortunately leaving Medea alive was almost as bad a choice. Now that the princess had exposed herself to them as a shape-changer, she might well intend they both die to keep her secret. Not that it was much of a secret. Judging from the reactions of anyone who dealt with magic when she asked about shape-shifting, most of the magic workers already knew.
Undecided between the evil of a living, malevolent enemy and a corpse that would be a catastrophe, Hekate put out a placating hand to Medea. She had no time to speak, however, and it seemed as if her plea had come too late. The princess had already turned her head to the guard, who still stood against the door with dead eyes.
Hekate took a breath to utter the freezing spell, praying that Medea's shields were gone or weak enough to let the spell take hold; it would at least give her and Kabeiros time to think. But Medea didn't speak the words that would bring light to the guard's stone eyes. Instead she turned back to Hekate, taking in her seemingly desperate grip on her staff and the pleading hand outstretched. She glanced briefly at Kabeiros, who lifted his lip to show his tearing fangs and tried to steady his still-shaking body. And then Medea laughed shortly, her expression one of utter contempt.
"Fear for your lives, do you?" she asked, sneering. "Well, you have cause enough. You had not courage enough to strike, and you have lost your chance forever."
That Medea spoke instead of acting was a good sign and the look of contempt gave a reason to hope. "I didn't," Hekate cried. "It was an accident—"
"A spell that damages my shields was an accident?"
"That was no spell, my lady," Hekate said, trying to sound desperate. "I couldn't cast a spell that fast. Nor do I know any spell strong enough to damage your wards. It was only the power I had stored in my staff. I beg your pardon, I do, but when I saw you torturing poor Kabeiros for something he can't help, I lost my control over the staff and the power poured out."
"I wasn't torturing the dog," Medea snapped. "I was trying to find out—" And then the first words Hekate had spoken came back to her. "Not a spell?" Medea's eyes narrowed, but after a moment's thought, she nodded slowly and her eyes shifted to the staff. "So you store power in the staff."
"Yes, but it isn't mine. It's Kabeiros' staff." Although Hekate gave no sign of it, she noticed the interest that flashed across Medea's face. She continued eagerly, "I just carry it for him in the hope that some day we will discover a cure for his affliction. Really, truly, he cannot change back to a man."
Medea nodded again, briskly this time. "Perhaps that's the only true thing you've said since you came into the palace," she said, but for once she looked young and brightly interested. "What should be a clean node of power is all tangled up with a draining spell that constantly draws away the power to shift. If I had such a spell—" She stopped abruptly, her lips thinning. "You deserve to die for trying to protect a shape-shifter as well as for striking me," she remarked. "You know that. I could call that guard awake with a single word, faster than you could bespell me. My father's guards are impervious to magic and this one could call as many more as he needed to subdue you."
Hekate dropped her head, as if she could not meet Medea's gaze and made her outstretched hand tremble. Kabeiros allowed his ears to droop and dropped his tail between his legs. But actually Hekate felt a strong sense of relief from the hound and her own fear was receding. If Medea had intended to kill them, she would have wakened the guard and given the orders at once. Feeding the princess's feeling of contempt was more useful now than threat. Medea wanted something and she would believe she could get it more easily from cowed opponents than from aggressive ones.
"Please, my lady," Hekate whined. She felt like gagging at the sound of her voice, but if it won her freedom it was a small price to pay. "It was a mistake, an accident. No one deserves to die for an accident. Surely there is some way I can make up to you for my affront. And . . . and my lady, if you kill me and my dog after the king said we could go and that he still wanted to investigate my magic, won't he wonder why we were destroyed?"
"My father trusts me," Medea snapped, but doubt flickered behind her eyes.
Hekate made no reply to that, simply pleading again to be released for mercy's sake and swearing that she had seen and heard nothing unusual. Medea stared at her and then laughed again.
"Say I became a serpent," she said. "No one would believe you if you told such a fantastic story."
Hekate smiled tentatively, tremulously, as if hope were wakening in her. "No one will even believe I was at the palace, except the very few who saw the palace guard come for me, and they will not speak of it for fear."
Medea stared at her, looked speculatively at Kabeiros, then shrugged. "You will not be free to leave the city. You understand that?"
"Indeed, my lady. Why should I wish to leave? I have a good business here—" Hekate hesitated and tried to look calculating "—and if I come and go to the palace, I'm sure my business will improve. No, indeed, I won't leave the city, and I'll come here gladly any time you send for me."
The contempt had returned, more markedly, to Medea's expression. Plainly she considered Hekate very stupid as well as lacking in courage. However she didn't speak to Hekate, merely turned her head and snapped one word at the guard. Slowly the light returned to his eyes, but Medea was already looking at Hekate when full brilliance was restored.
"So you have nothing more to tell me about the dog?"
"No, my lady," Hekate said, as if no time had passed between King Aietes leaving the room and the guard being . . . Hekate's mind hesitated over the proper word and then chose shut down, as if he were a water wheel or some other mechanical contrivance. But she had continued saying, "I don't know how or why he sees although he looks blind, and I don't know of any magical quality he has, except being unusually clever. Sometimes I swear he understands everything I say."
Medea did not look particularly grateful for Hekate's support of her pretense, and Hekate cursed herself for being distracted by thinking about the guard and allowing herself to seem too clever. She needed Medea to believe she was stupid. However, the princess only turned to the guard and told him to see Hekate out of the palace. Hekate bowed, the dog wagged his tail very slightly and ran to the door as if eager to be gone. Hekate took her staff in hand and sidled out between the divan and the low table, leaving the papyrus with the spells lying there.
She had gone only a few steps toward the guard, who had already opened the door, when Medea said, "Wait. I think I will bid you leave that staff with me."
Hekate stopped and stared with her mouth slightly open, but mentally she cried, *Kabeiros?*
*Leave it. Leave it,* he replied. *If I am ever a man again, I can make another.*
"It is useless now until I gather more power for it," Hekate said, walking back toward Medea.
"Nonetheless, I will take it. I think I would prefer that you did not have a great store of power, which you might wield as a weapon again. Leave the staff with me."
"Yes, my lady," Hekate said meekly, and handed it over.
She was afraid, until they were actually passed through the outer gate of the palace, that taking the staff had been an attempt by Medea to strip her of a weapon so she and Kabeiros could be more easily killed or taken prisoner or have an accident on the way out. However, nothing untoward happened and she and Kabeiros safely reached the inn, where she assured Batshira and Rakefet that the king had only been curious about her magic, but that he had been too busy to investigate fully and she would have to return. Then she set out for the market.
*I thought after she asked for the staff, that we wouldn't get out of there alive,* she said to Kabeiros as they walked. *Why do you think she wanted it?*
*Probably to use just as you did. She knew that your spells could work with their magic. She knew that the staff was not yours originally. Thus she concluded that she could store her own magic in it and release it as you did without using a spell. I think it will work. The staff was never sealed to me. Perhaps that will pacify her for a bit, but we had better begin to plan a way to escape from here.*
*Not yet.* There was suppressed excitement in Hekate's mental voice. *Didn't you hear what she gave away! I know now what is interfering with your ability to shift. The draining spell that sorcerer was using is caught in the shifting power. As I guessed, he was trying to kill you and was prevented somehow.*
*Then why could I be a man in the caves of the dead?*
*Some magic dies in the caves. Mine didn't and yours didn't. We both could find the earth's blood and feed from it, but the otherplanar creatures could not pass and my father's magic—* Hekate's mental voice stopped as if she had drawn a sharp physical breath. *Sweet Mother, Kabeiros, could we both have the same enemy? Could the sorcerer who attacked you be . . . my father?*
*It would be convenient,* Kabeiros said dryly, *but not very important now. How long do you think it will be before Medea attacks us? How can we be gone from here before then?*
*You are sure she will attack?*
*As I am the sun will rise. Her spells would not hurt you; your power did hurt her. Can she let you live?*
Hekate sighed. *You're right, of course, but I think she won't act yet. She has the staff to play with and she thinks I'm stupid and cowardly. I also think there's something more she wants from me. Besides that, she's not ready to challenge Aietes yet and he said he wanted me to be examined by his mages. I hope she'll wait until he's satisfied. Anyway, there's no way we can escape yet. We're being scryed. If we make a move, Aietes' creatures will be down on us.*
The dog was silent for a long time, then when they reached Hekate's place in the market and she was about to unlock the box that came with each space, he said, *I think I have in mind the word Medea used to stop the guard, but you will have to say it aloud so that I can hear it. Can the scryer hear what we say?*
*Some can, some can't. I would guess Aietes' or Medea's scryers can. But I'm about to open my box. I think I'll extend my shields out to cover the whole workplace. That will seem natural enough.*
On the words a thin silver hemisphere sprang up around them. Kabeiros put into her mind the word mrznutise. Hekate said it. Kabeiros shook his head, repeated with the emphasis slightly different. Meanwhile, Hekate had unlocked her box, spread the mat on which she sat, dropped the cushions one at each end. She repeated the word. Kabeiros shook his head, said, *Your voice must be harsher, like metal on metal.* She tried again as she lifted out a smaller locked box full of amulets and placed it by her cushion.
*No more now,* she told Kabeiros as she called the shield back into her body. *I can't keep my shield up too long or it will be suspicious.*
They would have had little chance to try anything more even if the scryer had not watched so constantly because Hekate had hardly settled on her mat when the first client arrived. After that she had a constant stream of clients, most of whom wanted to know why she had been called to the palace, what it was like, to whom she had spoken there . . . so many questions that she apologetically cut each person short, pointing out that others were waiting.
Among those waiting were servants from three sorcerers who lived in the great houses on Sorcerers Road past the Royal Way. Hekate had never met these people nor had they previously shown the smallest interest in her. Yet today, within hours after her return from the palace, each had sent a servant to purchase an amulet. She guessed that all of them either had informants in the palace who had reported on her interview with the royals or that they were acting under Aietes' orders.
Hekate blandly offered the box and allowed the sorcerers' servants to chose among the contents. All the amulets she had ready prepared, she told each servant, were charged with a "feel-good" spell that calmed anxiety. If they wanted other healing spells, Hekate said, they must describe the illness or allow her to visit the patient and she would prepare the amulet overnight. She wrapped each amulet in a scrap of cloth and handed it over.
After the second servant departed, she beckoned to one of the small boys who ran errands in the market. She handed him a similarly wrapped amulet, briefly touching his hand. The boy blinked once and set out without any verbal instruction, just as had the other sorcerers' servants, but that boy would deliver an uncharged amulet to Yehoraz and was bespelled to tell him that she had attracted the attention of the palace and that there was a scryer watching her. The boy would also say that she had not mentioned Yehoraz's name, and that she would not come to his house again. If he needed her for something, he should come to the market like any other client, which would not single him out in any way.
With that burden gone from her mind, Hekate answered one or two questions for each client, using superlatives of praise, over the guards, over the palace itself, over the wisdom of Aietes, the cleverness of Phrixos, and the beauty of Medea, all the time wondering how so many people had so quickly discovered that she had been summoned. When gathering dusk finally freed her from needing to think about her clients' needs, she realized the news had not really spread so quickly. The guard had come the night before; there had been time enough, if even one client had heard of it, for that one to spread the news to another until nearly all knew.
Now she was quick about folding her mat, piling the pillows atop the folded mat and, lifting her much-depleted chest of amulets, spreading her shield again. As she unlocked the box, and tossed everything inside, she made another two attempts to reproduce the word Kabeiros had heard.
The scryer was still watching when Hekate went to bed, and was there in the morning. Hekate had not bothered to wake in the night to check whether she was watched all night. It was logical she should be. If she were going to bolt, she would do so at night, so the scryer would watch all the more intently through the dark. But Hekate had no intention of running away, despite the danger.
Medea had already given her one valuable piece of information and might have more to impart. Of course, the princess didn't have a draining spell—she had spoken enviously of the one tangled in Kabeiros' shifting power—but now Hekate was far more interested in restoring Kabeiros' ability to shift than in the spell to drain her father. And it might be possible that in separating the draining spell she might learn it, so finding one answer would provide the other.
Hekate was reasonably sure that Medea had been trying to tease free the draining spell—or, more likely, tear it free, considering the agony inflicted on Kabeiros. If she could discover how the princess thought she could do that, Hekate reasoned that she could find a gentler way to accomplish the same purpose. Unfortunately, Hekate admitted she had not the faintest idea of how to pry information out of Medea. She could only wait and hope.
However, there was no message from the palace that morning. In fact a ten-day passed without further interference—except for the unbroken attention of the scryer and the arrival, at intervals, of five sorcerers' servants—two of the original three wanted more amulets and three were new. Fortunately the flow of ordinary clients had decreased to normal and Hekate could close and open her stall to obtain a midday meal, which permitted two more shielded moments to practice the word Kabeiros had heard.
She could say it by the end of the ten-day, although neither she nor Kabeiros was certain his memory of the word was perfect . . . or had remained perfect over the time they had been working with it. Moreover, Hekate knew that if the princess had held a symbol in her mind when she spoke, neither she nor Kabeiros could guess at what that symbol was.
In that time, she had also accomplished something that she knew would work; she had devised a ward with a bright mirror finish. Now if Medea tried to bespell her, instead of merely dissipating against Hekate's shields, that spell would reflect back on its caster.
Hekate hoped the spell Medea cast would not be devised to kill. However, she suspected that even if that was Medea's intention the reflection, distorted by the necessarily curved surface of the mirror ward, would not be very effective. Only effective enough, Hekate thought, to give Medea a good shock.
Only Medea didn't send for her. The only way Hekate knew she was still of interest to the palace was that she could feel the scryer constantly. Fortunately there was no way for a scryer to tell one spell from another; too much went on in the mind of the maker. The scryer could report that Hekate was devising spells, but not much more than that. Ignoring the minor irritation, Hekate went on with her life.
Following her usual custom, she didn't open her stall on the tenth day. She did her own shopping, mostly buying trinkets she could use for amulets. Then she returned to the inn and invested the trinkets with "feel-good" and finding spells. In a last attempt to protect Yehoraz, she did them in her chamber, as if that were where she always worked, hoping that Batshira would not sense her spell-casting and remind her that she was forbidden to do magic in the inn.
Another ten-day passed and with it came the end of the cool, bright days that marked autumn. The sky grew gray with dense cloud, only the faintest bright spot marking where the sun moved. A nasty wind blew; Kabeiros and Hekate both shivered on the exposed mat; about midmorning it began to rain. Hekate closed her stall and went back to the inn. On the third such day when she returned to the Black Genie, she complained bitterly to Batshira, who laughed at her.
"Colchis is a city of magic, yes, but even Aietes and his daughter cannot change the weather. Winter has come. There will be two, perhaps three, moons of this weather—and no, you can't use the inn for business."
"Where can I go?"
That was the right question. Batshira grinned widely. For a finder's fee, she bound herself to discover a chamber or apartment that Hekate could use to see clients or work spells. That was accomplished in so short a time, that Hekate wondered wryly whether knowing of the available space had sparked Batshira's firm refusal to allow Hekate to use the inn. However, she remembered that Batshira had been willing to risk warning her when the first summons to the palace had come and paid over the finder's fee without complaint.
She was glad she had done so and had stationed a "cryer" at her stall in the market to direct clients to her new place of business, for an inhuman guard arrived half a ten-day after she had settled into her new quarters. This time it waited until her last client had departed and led her to the palace as dusk was turning into full night. And the first thing King Aietes said when she was brought into his presence was that he was pleased she appeared to be planning to settle in Colchis.
"I would gladly do so if I were welcome," she answered a trifle absently as she looked around.
The guard had guided her not to the audience chamber or the small waiting room, but to a handsome apartment fitted at one end with cushioned chairs and a divan for conversation and at the other end with a polished table and chairs for dining. This was not the king's own apartment, Hekate guessed, but a place he used for meeting with ambassadors and other important dignitaries. She was a little flattered but more interested in the table as she had been summoned before she had a chance to eat her evening meal.
The hope presented by the table was not in vain. Soon after the king acknowledged that even his best sorcerers could not detect her spells in the amulets but that they assuredly worked, he gestured her toward the table and a meal was carried in. Hekate ate heartily and was permitted to put a plate of cold sliced beef on the floor for Kabeiros.
The king was surprisingly interested in the feel-good spell itself. Some who came before him, he said, were so terrified or so angry that they could not tell a coherent tale. A spell like hers, which would not last more than a few candlemarks or a day, would do the petitioner no harm and ease his own work. If he were speaking the truth—and Hekate had no reason to think otherwise; she had seen him attending to petitioners herself—the spell would be used for a good purpose. Not that she could have refused to give it to him, even if she suspected the worst, but this way, when they were finished with the sweetmeats that ended the meal, Hekate taught it to him with true pleasure, which showed.
It was another very simple spell, one of the first her mother had taught her when she realized her own powers were bring drained away. Hekate had used it constantly within her father's household, where without it all the servants would have been in a constant state of panic.
When Aietes had the spell, he cast it on a human servant brought into his presence by a guard. The man's relaxation together with his alertness and clear understanding of where he was was sufficient evidence that the spell had been effective. Having dismissed guard and servant, Aietes looked at Hekate almost apologetically.
"That is a good spell and I am glad to have it, but I am no wiser now about what makes your magic beyond my senses or why you, yourself, are like a painting or a statue—visible to the eye but empty within." He shook his head. "Well, I hoped to spare you, but several sorcerers are waiting to examine you."
Hekate smiled at him sweetly. "So long as they tell me what they discover, I am very willing." She stood up and tightened her shields around her. "I am ready." Then she smiled. "Thank you, my lord, for feeding me first."
As she spoke the words she felt a pang of fear. Could that most excellent meal have contained some drug that would weaken her resistance to probing? She asked Kabeiros as they walked, but he had no answer for her except that in the portion fed to him he neither sensed nor smelled any unusual drug. And in the event, the meal was either innocent or whatever was administered was not effective because the sorcerers singly and together discovered nothing. She was as impenetrable to them as she had been to the king.
That was not the last of it, of course. She was recalled to the palace within the ten-day, earlier in the day this time, to be examined by three women, as if the gender of the sorcerer might have some influence. After that, although the scryer still watched, two ten-days passed without a summons and Hekate thought Aietes might be satisfied. She wondered how long she would have to wait for Medea to make her move, but it was to the king she was escorted in the middle of the third ten-day. This time he handed her one of the amulets which had held a triggered spell.
Most amulets were invoked immediately by the client's touch and the spell worked until it was exhausted, usually for several days growing steadily weaker. Those with a triggered spell were invoked by a word or an action, released a strong spell, and were immediately empty. Hekate explained and Aietes stared at her for a moment in silence. There was no threat in his expression.
"I thought I knew magic," he said, "but what you do is remarkable. Quite remarkable. Amulets are common enough, of course, but to trigger a spell hidden in a thing . . . that is new to me."
Hekate shook her head. "Just different, my lord, not remarkable. It is a healer's trick, and would not be necessary to you. If a person is very ill and needs a spell that will bring sleep or ease pain, either the healer must go to that person or have the person brought to her even if his condition is well known and the spell could be delivered in an amulet. But if the healer herself did not deliver the amulet, which would make the thing useless because the healer could deliver the spell itself, the greatest good of the amulet, which is when it is first invoked, would be lost on a messenger who doesn't need the spell. Thus the need for a triggered spell. Then the amulet could be delivered inactive and the patient could trigger the spell with a single word."
"Teach me," Aietes said.
Hekate sighed. What a king could do with such a device to hold spells made her uneasy. "This isn't as simple as the other spells."
The king smiled. "Somehow I didn't think it was, but we don't have to finish the work today. You can come again as often as needed."
"My business, my lord," Hekate murmured.
"Come after dusk." He smiled again. "I will provide an evening meal, and we can talk about magic."
So they did. Six days out of ten a guard came for Hekate and took her to the palace and brought her home again. The winter passed and the skies were often clear, the wind mild. Hekate moved back to her mat in the marketplace three days out of every ten for she had noticed that the poorer clients did not come to the apartment on Sorcerers Road. Aietes asked about the move and she told him the truth.
"I would charge them the same, but perhaps they were afraid my price would rise, or they were overawed by the house. Why should they do without? And I like the market. I gossip with the other stall-holders. They have very interesting things to say."
The king looked at her for a time without speaking, but a ten-day later she noticed that he no longer bothered to shield himself against her. From time to time, Hekate would be washed by an impulse to drop her own, but caution prevailed. Then one night when the moon was full, Hekate was flooded with a violent temptation to dismiss her own wards. Why should she not? Aietes trusted her, why should she not trust him? He had other protections, but—
Then Kabeiros, who was lying on the floor apart from her rather than sitting pressed against her thigh, said, *Your magic will still be invisible, but your mind and soul will be naked to Aietes' gaze. Do you want that?*