Heart of the Thief

I haven't posted anything from The Heart of the Thief, my epic fantasy novel, in ages, so now that I'm writing the last chapter, I'd thought I'd share an excerpt. This is from the last chapter, so it's not connected to my previous posts. Since the book has gone through a major rewrite, most of those chapters have been changed anyway. Look for The Heart of the Thief next year.

They had set sail on the Cimmeron from Valice on a sunny day with clear skies and smooth waters. Cassilda stood on the deck overlooking the prow, staring into the blue waters, watching with amusement as dolphins swam playfully ahead of their wake. It was a crime to kill a dolphin in the Gulf of Katan because of their beauty and intelligence as well as an old sailor’s superstition that characterized them as messengers of the gods of the sea. She couldn’t imagine why any one would want to kill a dolphin. Feeling the warmth of the sun and smelling the salt of the ocean’s wind, Cassilda couldn’t image why anyone would want to kill any living thing. It was good to be alive; it was wondrous, and with wonder came joy and excitement and the rush of love. She looked across the deck at a young mage with ebony skin and a handsome jawline and blushed. Ambierce was chatting with some countess or other—she wasn’t sure and that was fine—and she was left to feel young and beautiful and intoxicated with the promise of the future. What a magnificent voyage they had begun! A tour of Capetia, the pearl of the gulf! And then the sights of the wilderness, the coast of Rheineland, and finally a stop at San-Elza, where they would drink wine from Beaune and listen to the music of flamenco and watch the dancers as they danced with the sweet summer sweat beading on their noble faces. She never imagined that she’d have such a life, not when she was an urchin picking pockets in Gaul. Those years were blotted out in her memory, replaced with a blank spot waiting to be filled with the adventures of youth.

The young mage approached her and introduced himself as Jaffrey, performing an elaborate bow that she assumed was meant to charm her, though it made him look rather foolish. He asked her what she thought about the Gulf of Katan and whether she believed the warnings of the scientists of the Mitte Academy regarding the increasing industrial pollution of the North affecting the warming of the Southern Ocean. Cassilda smiled prettily at him and gave something of a non-answer; she was not particularly interested in politics or matters of a global nature. Jaffrey looked a little panicked. She wondered if he had altered his appearance, for he had more the mannerisms of a maladroit scholar than a handsome wizard. She looked out across the sea and saw something on the horizon, a menacing weather system, perhaps, or maybe just a figment of her imagination.

“Do you see something?” she asked Jaffrey, pointing at what she had noticed.

“Forgive me, lady, for I do not,” he stammered.

“I would hate for us to be caught in a squall. It would ruin the atmosphere of the voyage.”

The more she looked at the horizon the more she was certain that there was something out there. It looked as though a mass of black clouds were heading in their direction, but there was a ship beneath them, perhaps caught in the storm.

“I am going to say something to the captain,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She left Joffrey and walked across the deck. There were many wizards on board, most of them young and inexperienced, chaperoned by Ambierce, the Countess, and a Zanj mage named Omari. It was an educational expedition, intended to widen the minds and improve the social skills of the young wizards who had signed on. Cassilda had been apprehensive when Ambierce had suggested it, citing sea sickness and shyness as reasons for staying ashore, but as always, he had been right and she had enjoyed herself thus far. She knew that her apprenticeship was coming to an end, and part of her feared independence. Ambierce was trying to find her a position at court in Galvania or Valice, which was exciting, though she still had to apply for her license from the Council. I can’t live in that ruined manor with him forever she thought. Still, she would try to see him as often as possible.

“Change is good,” she said quietly to herself, stopping before the captain, who had his eyes on the horizon. He was a big man with large-knuckled hands, grizzled and stern, the spitting image of a sea captain, intimidating in a serious way, for he took himself and his profession seriously. Cassilda tried to assume the noble air of a mage, but she stammered slightly as she got the captain’s attention.

“What is it, m’lady?” he asked brusquely.

“Is that a vessel on the horizon there, caught in that squall?”

“It ain’t caught in the squall, m’lady. It’s the other way around. The ship’s steering the storm, putting it right in our direction. I’m trying to get us closer to the coast, but it’s moving faster than it should.”

“How would a storm steer a ship?” asked Cassilda.

“There’s an aeromancer on board, no doubt. In the old days, many of them worked on ships summoning good winds. Now, with more steamships in the water and mages becoming rarer, you don’t see them as much. I don’t want to meet this one. That’s an evil-looking cloud lingering over yonder, and he may be working with pirates or Barbarosie raiders. I don’t doubt that the mages on board could handle themselves, but it’d be best to avoid conflict. Why don’t you go tell your master what’s going on.”

She almost replied that Ambierce was not her master but instead hurried away, an ill-feeling coming over her like a cold chill. She found him below deck in his quarters, sea-sick, a sour expression on his visage.

“You are not well?” she asked.

“I had to beg leave of the Countess. My stomach is not doing well with this rollicking.”

“But it is so much better than it was earlier,” said Cassilda.

“Indeed it is, but my stomach does not know better. What’s the matter?” he asked, reading her eyes.

She told him about the approaching ship and the captain’s concerns.

“I’ll come on deck in a minute. You and I need to have a discussion beforehand. I saw you making eyes at that young man. Did you speak to him? Good. You are coming out of your shell. Soon you will be lording over us all. As soon as we have received your license, I think you should take a position I have secured for you in Valice in Albert Bourdain’s household. He’s a knight in good-standing with the Occupational government, an old friend from the war, a raconteur, and a bit of a charmer, though he knows enough to keep his hands to himself. The old families of Valice like to have a wizard on call for various traditional tasks, but Bourdain needs magical help in his capacity as a lieutenant of the Reconstruction. They have the Calamity to deal with, and it’s a task that my generation has left as a burden for the next. The decline of wizards is due to that catastrophe. It is my wish that you will begin your career as part of the solution. We can do great things, Cassilda. It would be a shame for the world to leave the old ways behind while chasing so-called progress. All the technological innovations of Laurasia will not change the nature of man. I see hope in the youth. There are no wars brewing to mar your friendships, and the old guard is as weak as ever. The Council of Mages will lose its influence to you and your peers, my dear. Mark my words: the mages on this boat will do more to better the world than all of the Council together.”

He embraced her then, the old fool, with tears in his eyes. Cassilda did not know why he was becoming so emotional. She knew he loved her as a daughter, but he was losing an apprentice and gaining a peer, as she saw it. Vague proclamations made her uneasy, and she didn’t wish to live with prophesies thrust upon her. Kissing his forehead, she went up to the deck.

She noticed their faces first. Separated by only a few yards of ocean, a black ship rocked in synchronicity with the Cimmeron, its prow jutting forth like a skewering spike. They stood in black robes with the faces of animals; she saw a vulture beak, a wolf snout, and the bared teeth of a horse. Something that looked like a cross between a bear and a human snarled and raised a clawed hand. A plank fell, making contact with the Cimmeron’s deck. The young mages scattered, for they knew that these were not raiders armed with swords and clubs. The reek of black magic hung from the frames of the interlopers like the stench of a rotting corpse. Part of Cassilda wanted to vanish below deck, but a horrible fascination with what she was witnessing made her walk out amongst the dark magicians. They marched on board and congregated on the bow while the youth fled to the stern, with Cassilda standing in the middle like a bridge between two countries. One of the dark magicians approached her; he did not remove his hood, but she felt a familiar sickness boiling in her stomach as he passed her by without a glance. He raised his hands to the air and the darkened sky turned blood red. Beckoning to the youth, he began to speak.

“Innocents abroad! What a time we live in! Babes cross the Sea of Katan on a great pleasure cruise, touring the ancient lands of the South! You do know, children, that what you call the South is only a small portion of the Maat, and that the Maat itself is only a tiny spec in the chaotic ocean of the Isfet. Order, truth, harmony—these are the concepts of the human universe and the legacy of the dead God. Man creates order, does he not? Man gives names to things and categorizes flora and fauna and the heavenly bodies. In a sense, man creates the universe that he perceives. Without his perception, man would be like any other thing—dumb, deaf, and prey to uncontrollable impulses. Which is not to say that man is any better than any other animal.”

He walked past Cassilda, pausing to place a hand on her cheek. She knocked it away, shuddering at its touch, and the dark void within the hood laughed.

“Man likes to pretend that he adheres to god-given principles. Man likes to believe that he has a moral character that shows true in most situations. Man composed the Theory of Evolution and then discredited it, because how could a godly being share a common ancestor with apes? Apes lack moral fiber, let me tell you. I once witnessed a chimpanzee in the Dzanga-Sangha beat another to death for no less of a violation than the theft of a pomegranate. I felt that all the sins of the human race were mirrored in that act. That realization, of course, led me to comprehend that there was no such thing as sin. Have your handlers taught you that, youth of the future? I doubt it. They have probably fed you some nonsense about responsibility and how important it is to be an ethical professional. You must think of others during your long, illustrious careers. They will say nothing of the intoxicant power, nor mention anything about lust. They will tell you to set aside such trivial desires and work for the betterment of mankind. They will feed you the lies that they were fed, hoping in their heart of hearts that you continue to chew your cud. Do you think that they have had their sins laid out for all to examine? If they are going to insist on morality, then should they not be judged by their own standards? Where is the war criminal Ambierce Serpico?”

He emerged from below deck and stood warily with clenched fists, teeth gritted together like he was suffering from lockjaw. His hands opened in a flash, and the wind roared, and lightning thundered in the sky, but then there was nothing but silence, and the waters of the sea seemed to cease churning. Suddenly Ambierce was on his knees, head bowed, hands bound before him by an invisible rope. Cassilda’s stomach lurched—she knew that something terrible was happening—and fear rose up in her throat at the sight of a powerful mage like Ambierce diminished instantly.

“Should we give him a trial?” asked the leader of the dark magicians.

No one spoke in answer. The Countess and Omari had appeared, but they said and did nothing. The expression on their faces told Cassilda that they were not fighters, and she hated them abruptly for their helplessness.

“Not one of you thinks this man deserves a trial? What a condemnation! Even Capetia grants the guilty a trial! Galvania punishes children for their parents’ crimes, yet they still muster up the judge, lawyers, and jury! And you children do not even know of his crimes! Has he been that bad of a teacher? Do you love him not at all?”

“They are scared of you and your brutes,” said Cassilda. “You animal men who have appeared out of nothingness. What grants you the right to accuse him in such a manner? Are you a pirate with a flair for grandiose statements? Or are you simply a degenerate who thinks himself to be intelligent when he is really boorish, stupid, and ugly?”

She felt him staring at her, felt the fear he was trying to put inside her like a poison. Her heart beat quickly with adrenaline, and her hands trembled slightly, but Cassilda fought to kept herself under control and retained her dignity.

“They should be scared,” he said loudly. “Fear is an appropriate response in my presence. I never get tired of feeling like a predator on the prowl. Fear is a base emotion, the most primitive one, the natural chemical response to a world fraught with peril. I myself have been paralyzed by it many a time, though it has been several hundred years. You know how I conquered fear, pretty girl? I mastered death. I consumed a piece of God. When you eat of your maker, my child, you gain forbidden knowledge. You realize that death is weakness born out of a desire to kill thyself. It is very hard, however, to kill life. Oh, an individual falls easily, but what about a town or a city? What about a species? What about every named and unnamed creature of the Maat? You see, even God knew that He was a helpless power doomed to eternal life, and so he knew that his suicide was futile because his children would grow from his corpse. The weakness of God is present in all of us, and I have successfully destroyed my drive toward death. Unlike Ambierce here, I will survive until the last bit of the Maat has become swallowed by the Isfet. Do you understand my role, girl? God abdicated His throne, so somebody has to rule. Being God means you have to play the Demon as well, does it not? Look at the sky; see that it is red, burdened with the color of blood. I am in my demonic aspect. Scream if you must when I pull back my cowl, for you will view the face of evil eternal. It is old, wrinkled, and liver-spotted. It is jealous of youth and judgmental of the young. It harbors grudges real and imagined. It judges your master weak because he wanted to acted but could not. And so he will be castrated and thrown to the sea, and if the waters do not take him, the beasts of the sea will rend his flesh and gnaw his bones, and what curses he speaks will fall on deaf ears. Such is the judgment of Pliny the Black.”