Spellbreakers Read Free Page A

is nothing at all
that we can do to reverse the judgment. Rejecting the Challenge’s verdict would
mean condemning Escarra to a completely hopeless war. You know very well that
Escarran war-magic is not what it used to be.”
    “Can’t you give me something? Anything? There must be a solution!”
    Dee spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
    “If I had a solution, I’d have spoken up a long time
ago, believe me. I have no more wish to see Escarra enslaved, or you wedded to
Black Admund, than you have. And your father has been most insistent that I
devote all my time and resources to the issue.”
    “My father, my father,” said Leal, snapping out of the
chair and pacing furiously up and down the room. She barely abstained from
spitting on the dusty carpet that covered Dee’s floor.
    The Master of Enchantments sighed with a dejected air.
    “Guillem is as unhappy as you are, Leal. Do not blame
your father for all this. He has no more choice in the matter than you have.”
    Leal shot him a withering look and went to stand by
the window, arms crossed, fuming. She remained stubbornly silent, refusing to
concede the truth of Dee’s words.
    “He always loved you more than any of his daughters,
Leal, you know that very well. You always had your way in everything, even when
it was not quite wise. Tell me, when did you last have a lesson in etiquette,
dance, heraldry and deportment? When was the last time you embroidered as much
as a napkin? You were not groomed to be a royal bride, and for that you must be
grateful. You had more freedom than any royal child could ever expect. Of
course there is a reverse to this medal. Of course it is much harder to accept
this for you than it would have been for Sperança or Allegra. But they would
have hated Admund just the same. Nobody said that doing your duty for the
kingdom would be ... entertaining. I say again, do not blame your father. He is
as keen as you are to find a way to win the Challenge and free you. But there appears
to be no realistic way .”
    There was a silence.
    Leal gazed at nothing out of window. She felt her life
slipping through her fingers. She was condemned to this wedding then. With some
luck it would be over soon. One way or the other. Then
she thought of Dee’s last words.
    There appears to be no realistic way .
It was a curious formulation. She had known Dee for all her life. Even in a rush,
half drunk, and hanging upside down from a tree, he could certainly have picked
out words like a woman picks choice flowers in a garden.
    “Not even any fantastical, magical way?” she asked
finally, barely whispering. She did not leave the window, and she merely turned
her face down and back, to peer at Dee from behind her shoulder.
    The old man gave another deep sigh, but he sat up a
bit straighter.
    “I wish there was, Leal,” he said, “but you know how
things stand there better than most,” said Dee. “There is no more magic left in
Escarra’s old bones. I can barely feel the pulse of the elements these days.
All I can contrive are tricks and illusions. Masters of old magicked the arrows
of their champions to ensure a victorious shot, but I could no more do that
than bring Kjetil Alversen Haukka-Silma’a back into the world.”
    “Kjetil who?” asked Leal, suddenly turning from the
window and stalking back to the old man’s table.
    The magician gave her a surreptitious look from under
his silvery eyebrows.
    “What are you saying, Dee? Who is this Kjetil
Whatshisname-a’a?”
    Dee coughed and sniffed a few times, obviously
considering what to say, and how. He sat back in his high chair, and steepled
his fingers in front of him.
    “Do not get too excited, Leal. This is ancient history
by now. Kjetil Alversen Haukka-Silma’a was an
elvren warrior...”
    “Elvren? Like
... an elf?”
    “Ah,” said Dee raising his right index finger in an
admonitory fashion. “You be careful there, princess. Elves—the singular is elf—are
small, slender,