The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani (story reading .TXT) 📕

Stonemane frowns. He’s ready to leave, but still he answers. “I am certain. Possibly, as with the Blessing, the marker for the Darkness is ingested. I cannot say from what you have shown me.”

“Is there anything else?” I ask.

“Only this: I cannot be a witness for you, and I do not recommend taking on the Circle of Mages without careful consideration. And irrefutable evidence. You are working with the princess, are you not?”

I nod.

“Make sure that the prince and king are aware as well.

“I understand.”

Stonemane sighs. “I should not be surprised that, within a week or two of your arrival, you have set about trying to save someone. Be careful, kelari. The opposition you are up against in this is a great deal more dangerous than anything you would meet in your own town.”

“I’m aware of that,” I say, resting my wounded arm on my lap. I’ve already crossed a thief lord. I have no interest in inciting the fury of a mage. “I’ll be careful.”

Stonemane purses his lips and says, warily, “I have also discharged my obligations, kelari.”

I grin up at him, well aware that I’ll call on him again if I have no other option. “I thank you for your help today, verayn.”

His lips twitch as if he cannot help being amused—but then he catches himself, his features sliding into a cool mask, and, with a slight bow, he departs.

Chapter

36

I remain on my bench for another hour, just sitting and thinking. The sun creeps over the edge of the roof and warms the courtyard, and a few pages hurry by, and, once, a young noblewoman passes through with her toddler in her arms. I watch them go by in silence, grateful that this child, born to a wealthy family, will likely never be snatched.

But mostly I am considering what I know: that the mages have enchanted the cups in unnecessary ways—suggesting the wish to hide something; that the Darkness is a magical attack, and something that the Circle might want to hide; and that they would not be involved with the snatchers if there were not some gain for them. People do not destroy others for no reason at all.

There is also the consideration that the Darkness doesn’t take those children who are snatched—otherwise, they would be useless as slaves. So the snatchers must have a ward that keeps the children safe unless they venture past its boundaries. A ward that the Circle would never admit exists, that I wouldn’t have believed could exist either, if it weren’t for Niya’s own wards, constructed following her own intuition to achieve the same end. It’s not impossible, just different.

The snatchers are not politically powerful—at least, not openly so. So the gain must be something else. The simplest, most obvious answer is gold. I’ve seen what the Black Scholar would do to protect his territory, his power, and thus also his wealth. It should therefore come as no surprise that the mages, elite and educated as they are, would be equally ruthless in amassing and protecting their own sources of wealth.

But all I have is conjecture, and the belief that the Circle is directly involved with the snatchers.

With a sigh, I gather up my things and return to my room. I have just enough time to dress before attending Alyrra to lunch. In the brief moment before we depart, I mention I have news for her and Kestrin.

“I’ll ask him to join us after the meal,” she assures me.

Lunch is a quiet affair, with only a select few noble families in attendance—including Melly and Filadon, whom I am delighted to see—and no sign of the foreign prince. He has clearly been excluded from the royal family’s inner circle.

Kestrin and Garrin return with us to the royal wing after the meal. I would have preferred only Kestrin, but I remember Alyrra saying that the prince trusts this cousin of his implicitly. I fetch the bag with the cup and opal, and return to the princess’s suite just as a servant sets out tea. Kestrin has already dismissed his attendants, and Alyrra gives Jasmine leave to go.

Once we are alone, Alyrra turns her attention to the men. “Verayn, you will remember that when I appointed Kelari Amraeya, it was with the specific hope of having her look into some questions I had regarding the disappearance of children in the city.”

Garrin frowns, glancing toward Kestrin, who nods soberly.

“I expected it would take some time to learn anything of substance, but Kelari Amraeya has been exceptionally effective.” She turns to me. “Will you tell us what you learned from your visit to the brickyard, and the children?”

It’s a hard story to tell without implicating anyone—specifically, Bren. I name him only as a contact who took me first to the brickyard, and who then managed to help the children escape. I relay their stories of being transported by water, all but the one, who was sold into slavery upon arrival in the city.

“After they were blessed, I was given the items used in the Blessing. I have had someone with magical abilities assess them.”

“Who would that be?” Garrin asks. He sits forward, elbows on his knees, listening intently.

“I cannot say, verin. I promised to keep their identity hidden.”

“And we are to believe someone whose name we don’t know?”

“There is no concern there,” Kestrin says, touching Garrin’s shoulder. “I’m sure we can have them assessed again by someone we trust. What did you learn, kelari?”

“That the cup serves two functions, separately. To remove the marker in the blood that draws the Darkness to it, and to wash away those memories brought forward by the opal.”

“One does not entail the other, then,” Alyrra surmises.

“No,” I agree.

Kestrin shakes his head. “What did you mean by ‘a marker that draws the Darkness to it’? What I have heard is this Darkness is already within the children. Or”—he shrugs—“that it isn’t even real.”

“It’s real. And it’s sent.