The Kindly One

XIX. Heartless

"Why would they do this to him?" Iona said, fighting down tears. The news about Benedikt's imprisonment had hit her like a blow. She was sitting on the couch in her study next to Kája, who had both arms around the trembling half elf. Nicol was leaning against the desk.

"They saw him taking orders from Devyn of Mór," the older mage said. "I cannot imagine what motivated him to be in Leus, but a visit of such import...'tis no wonder Zdenek is suspicious."

Iona felt horror creep up on her. Devyn had come because of her. There was no other explanation that she could see. This was her fault. Benedikt had to have gone to Devyn on her behalf, or to protect him from the Leyan Crown for her sake. He was a good friend—too good of one now. "This is—"

Kája seemed to know what was coming. "'Tis no fault of thine," she said softly to try to soothe Iona.

Nicol gave them a quizzical look as if she didn't understand what Iona had to do with Devyn, but asked nothing. "Král Hustovi was carrying this when he was apprehended. The guards gave it to mine care," she said, producing the necklace that Devyn had given the half-elf as a birthday present, a birthday that felt like a lifetime ago. "I do not ken the meaning. Perhaps thou dost?"

Iona felt a lump in her throat when Nicol tossed her the delicate piece of jewelry. Suddenly, the anger flared. Her brother could have left well enough alone. She was happy and he'd had seventeen years to fix things, only to throw the chance away—to throw her away. Why did he have to drag her friend into the fire to die? Power started to course through her veins, feeding from her anger, at least until she felt Kája rubbing her back. It made her feel less like lashing out. "There has to be a way to stop this. He wasn't working for Devyn. He was just trying to protect me."

"I may be able to persuade Zdenek to spare him," Nicol said. "I maintain some sway as first among his mages. Beyond that? There is no way to reach Hustovi without exposing thine self to great harm. 'Sides, thou art to become a mágissa in an hour or two. Thou hast no time to mount a rescue."

"But if I had the position, I could talk to someone," Iona said, feeling a hope slowly unfold in the center of her chest. "If I'm as valuable as you say I am, they would listen. Bene said once that mages were the pieces who could move the players."

Kája shook her head slightly. "Nay, Iona. Keep from this, for thine own sake. I will see what can be done for Benedikt. He has friends in the court, for a particular definition of friend. They might come to his aid, if persuaded."

"I want to help," Iona said firmly.

"We will see." Nicol's gaze was sympathetic, something Iona was grateful for. At least her mentor was taking it seriously, to the point of volunteering to come to Benedikt's aid. "After thine ceremony."

"Is he alright? They wouldn't hurt a noble, would they?" The half-elf hoped beyond hope that Benedikt's status would protect him. She had seen what Leyans did to traitors. After all, she'd met the ghouls beneath the Ossuary.

"He lives, but I cannot vouch for his health and safety. It is the wish of the High Král that rules Leus's dungeons."

Kája glared at the mage. "Aye, and thee, methinks."

"If thou hadst but an inkling of his sway, thou wouldst not be so quick to hand down judgment. But methinks thou wilt be enlightened soon enough." Nicol turned to Iona. "We are to depart within the next few minutes. Perhaps thou wilt find what thou dost seek. Thine spellguard will wait here. 'Tis for mages and no others, as it has ever been."

Iona nodded and stood up. "I'm ready," she said with a determination in her voice. "If this could help Bene, it's worth it."

Nicol's smile was almost sorrowful for a moment. "Mayhap. Thou wilt be a mágissa to be looked upon with awe, whatever comes of it." Her gaze settled on Kája. "Do what thou must for Král Hustovi. Mayhap thine advocacy will be enough to save him." She then waved Iona after her and continued once they were out in the hall, "Where we are going is deep beneath the Ivory Palace, where every mage is collared. 'Tis a rite known to only one at a time, passed down from generation to generation. The ritual is said to be elven in nature, but I ken not its true nature."