Emperor Mage. Tamora Pierce

sat down.

      ‘Is that who I think it is?’ Alanna directed the question to Lindhall, who had come to lean against the wall beside the Lioness and Daine.

      ‘She was his lover before he fled the country,’ the older mage replied. ‘Apparently there were no hard feelings.’

      Daine frowned. ‘Why didn’t she go with him?’

      ‘He didn’t ask, and evidently she didn’t offer,’ said Lindhall. ‘But she never married, either, and she’s had a few serious proposals.’

      One by one, Ozorne’s ministers came to speak with various Tortallans and to introduce them to Carthakis. Mages came for Harailt. Lord Martin and both Gareths were led away by the minister who’d stood closest to the emperor in the audience chamber. Even Alanna, who was uncomfortable in social situations, was deep in talk with a general in the crimson kilt and gold-washed armour of the Imperial Guard, better known as the Red Legion.

      Lindhall beckoned to a slave with a tray of fruit. ‘Your small friend will like grapes,’ he told Daine, pointing to Zek. ‘You may also.’ He put a bowl of grapes and plums beside her. Zek devoured the grapes, while Kitten selected a plum.

      ‘What does she do here? Lady Varice?’ Daine asked.

      ‘She is Ozorne’s official hostess,’ Lindhall replied, his voice neutral. ‘Her magic allows her to specialize in things such as entertainment and cookery.’ He frowned. ‘I hope Arram – Numair – realizes that Varice is now completely devoted to imperial interests.’

      Daine looked up at him and realized that here was someone who genuinely cared about her lanky friend. ‘You’ve missed him, haven’t you, sir?’

      Lindhall smiled. ‘I never had another student whose interests so closely matched my own, and when he was no longer my student, we became friends. It’s good to see him now, though I am apprehensive. The emperor never forgives. I doubt that he would imperil the peace talks to settle his score with Numair, but I cannot feel easy in my mind about his reasons for issuing that pardon.’

      Daine looked down, fighting the urge to tell this man of her own worries and the badger’s ominous warning. She knew it was a bad idea, however nice Lindhall seemed, but she needed to tell someone. If only she could get Numair or Alanna somewhere they couldn’t be overheard! She didn’t want to tell Duke Gareth or any of the others. They didn’t know her like Alanna and Numair did, nor did they know about the badger.

      ‘Master Lindhall, could we have a word?’ someone called.

      Lindhall sighed. ‘You’ll be all right here?’ he asked Daine.

      ‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied, smiling. ‘I’m not going to budge.’

      Lindhall looked at the crowds before them. ‘Probably that’s just as well. I promise, when we get the chance, I would like to have a good, long chat about wildlife.’

      ‘Master Lindhall, the emperor’s birds—’

      The mage smiled, pale eyes sympathetic. ‘The emperor will explain, in his own time. That is how things are done here.’

      She watched him thread his way through the crowd, and shuddered at the thought of meeting so many strangers. Zek gravely offered her a grape; she accepted, with thanks. Looking around, she wished her pony, Cloud, were here. It had made sense to leave her at home, but now Daine longed for Cloud’s horse sense and tart opinions. She felt lost among so many adults and such magnificent surroundings. The rulers of Tortall didn’t have the kind of wealth, or surplus of mages, to create rooms like this for their palace.

      Suddenly Kitten began to trill, producing sounds that rose and fell like music. At intervals she uttered a chk! sound. Each time she did so, the girl could see a man-sized distortion in the air to her left where Kitten stared intently.

      ‘She sees you,’ the girl told the distorted spot. ‘It’s the first thing student mages at the royal university try – the invisibility trick. It doesn’t work with her. You do it well, the best I’ve ever seen, but if you don’t show yourself now, she’ll bite. She really dislikes invisibility-spells.’

      The air rippled: there stood the Emperor Mage. ‘I trust she won’t bite me,’ he said in a mild voice. ‘I would hate to bleed on this robe.’

      Daine’s jaw dropped; she turned to look at the throne. He sat there, too, a figure identical to the one beside her. ‘Simulacrum,’ he explained. ‘A living puppet. I’m uncomfortable at state occasions. They really don’t want me in attendance, just something to awe the empire’s guests. I mastered the art of magical copies so that I might be able to move around. May I sit down?’

      ‘It’s your couch,’ she replied. For a moment she had spoken to him as she might have to King Jonathan or Queen Thayet, monarchs who insisted on informality. Belatedly remembering her instructions on proper behaviour with the emperor, she said, ‘I’m sorry, Your Imperial Majesty. I should bow, or stand, but I’d upset Zek and the fruit and all.’

      ‘Then let us not upset Zek,’ said Ozorne, looking at the marmoset in Daine’s lap. ‘He is the creature you dived so impetuously into the river to save?’ The girl blushed and nodded. A smile tugged the emperor’s lips. ‘It was a kind deed. We need more of them.’

      Embarrassed, Daine changed the subject. ‘About the copies of you – can’t the mages tell it’s only sorcery?’

      Ozorne snapped his fingers, and a shimmering curtain of light enveloped the dais, hiding the other emperor from sight. ‘No. I am very good at them. Practice, you see – plenty of state occasions that require the emperor’s image, not the man. I tried to teach your master, the former Arram Draper, how to make them, but he was never as adept as I am.’

      She ignored the jibe about Numair. ‘Can it do magic or look like it has magic? The sim—’

      ‘Simulacrum.’ He put his chin on his hand, amber eyes thoughtful. ‘No. The fabric of the copy won’t hold the chain of spells that would give it the seeming of my magical Gift.’

      Numair can do it, she thought. If the emperor hasn’t heard it, though, I’m not going to tell him. ‘Why did you pardon Numair and let him come back, if you’re still angry with him?’

      He smiled. ‘My dear girl – no, you don’t care for that, do you?’ he asked, correctly interpreting the look on her face. ‘Then I shall call you Veralidaine.’

      ‘Daine, please, Your Imperial Majesty.’

      ‘Daine? What is the point of so beautiful a name if it’s not used? Veralidaine. At the risk of destroying your illusions, I must tell you I have little control over what is done in this kingdom.’ He offered his hand to Kitten. The dragon shook her head, and crouched to examine his toe rings.

      ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but of course you do. It’s your kingdom, isn’t it?’

      ‘Indeed, but – does my royal cousin Jonathan have complete freedom to order what he likes? I assume he has councils and nobles and law to answer to, does he not? I believe Sir Gareth the Younger is the head of his private council, to which Master Numair and Lady Alanna also belong. Duke Gareth leads the Council of Lords, which numbers also Lord Martin of Meron, and Harailt of Aili is head of his Council of Mages. Such men are the real power in any realm, Veralidaine.’

      ‘But they’re just advisers. The king can do as he wants, surely.’

      The emperor shook his head. ‘Alienating one’s nobles is a sure way to put a nation into chaos. There are always those who think they can do a ruler’s job better. They need little encouragement.’

      Daine thought of Yolane of Dunlath, who had planned a rebellion in Tortall with this ruler’s encouragement, and bit her tongue. Her orders from the king and queen had been specific. She was not to mention the emperor’s attempts to weaken Tortall, no matter how much she might want to.

      Zek,