Born Magic Read online

  “The captain’s wife and five of the guardsmen. Why wouldn’t there be?”

  “In Pereathea, women are prohibited from certain jobs, actually many jobs.”

  “Quertesh was like that about four hundred years ago. I think it changed after one of the wars. Come, I’ll show you where the baths are.”

  “I need to see the healer first.” Nev didn’t want to be too explicit, but he needed certain items.

  * * * *

  The bath was a deep stone oval about two steps wide and six steps long. A brazier heated a pipe that flowed into the bath. Holding a hand over it for a moment, Nev could sense magic. Although the brazier would need to be refilled periodically, a spell prolonged and enhanced the heat it gave to the pipe.

  Nev filled the bath most of the way and stripped. The warm water did sting his sunburn and abrasions, but it eased other aches.

  Alone, marginally safe, Nev allowed himself to cry. To go from sure death, to escape, to near death in the desert followed by capture then a tiny measure of possible safety…it was too much to easily process. He had no real idea if torture and imprisonment was likely to be in his future. He had no status. He was from another kingdom. And unless you counted his acquaintanceship with Jamal, he knew no one. Even slaves knew other slaves.

  Eventually, he pulled himself together and finished bathing. Jamal had given him a linen towel. He dried off and put the ankle length robe back on. Why was he only just now realizing that eventually he needed shoes, or sandals at least? He had nothing of his own, not even clothes. How would he survive? Tears filled his eyes all over again.

  There was a soft knock on the door to the room with the bath. Nev hurriedly choked down his emotions. “Yes.”

  The door opened. Jamal leaned in. “You’ve been gone for a while. I thought maybe I should check on you.”

  “I’m finished.”

  “Why don’t you come back over to the barracks then? I’m sure you could use some rest.”

  Nev gathered up the wet towel, glad he had already dressed, and followed Jamal.

  * * * *

  One candle remained lit in the room. Jamal gazed at Nev’s sleeping form. He should really blow out the last candle and get some sleep, too, but his thoughts were restless. No, maybe that should be obsessed.

  Nev’s cheekbones were smooth high curves that flowed into the sharper angle of his jaw. That mouth…the lush lower lip and the bow of the upper one just begged for a touch. A kiss would be even better. Jamal knew the closed eyes were intensely sky blue, an uncommon color in Quertesh, and he wondered just how pale Nev’s skin would be once all the sunburn faded.

  Holding the man…the man? Nev had indicated that was how he viewed himself, so Jamal tried to cement that idea in his head. Holding the man while riding, holding him while Nev drank the broth and the tea in the infirmary, had felt as if it was supposed to be. It wasn’t like Jamal hadn’t had relationships with both men and women. Was this different? That fell in the undecided area. Maybe sleep would help him sort out his feelings.

  Chapter 2

  Daily operations in the garrison tended to fall into a pattern. Two regular meals were served, one in the morning and one in the evening.

  Jamal sat beside Nev at one of the long trestle tables. He spread a generous spoon of hummus on a pita and wrapped it around cucumber and onion slices before taking a bite. Nev, he noticed, ate a plain pita and kept casting glances at what other guardsmen were eating.

  “You can have anything you want, just ask,” Jamal said.

  “I don’t know what most of it is. I recognize this as bread, but you put something on yours, and why wrap it around cucumbers and onions?” Nev asked.

  “I put hummus on it. It’s a spread made from chickpeas. It makes it easier to hold if I wrap it up.” Jamal point to several serving bowls on the table. “There’s also baba ghannoush, an eggplant thing. The white stuff is lebneh, a yogurt cheese. There’s also olives and pomegranate seeds. What do you eat for breakfast?”

  “Oatmeal or bread, sometimes eggs and bacon, maybe an apple.”

  “Okay…to me that sounds weird.” Jamal reached for the bowl of pomegranate seeds and put a handful on his plate, then he picked up three and held them out to Nev. “They are sweet sour and have a tiny pit inside. Just chew the whole thing up.”

  Nev took the small red seeds and put them in his mouth. Once he swallowed, he said, “Those are good.”

  “I think so.”

  “Are you going back out into the Burning today?

  “No. I have hand to hand practice this morning, and I think I may have been assigned to stable cleaning this evening,” Jamal answered.

  Lt. Khouri sat down across from Jamal. “When you’re done, go see the captain.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * * *

  Jamal stood in front of Captain Bhati’s desk.

  “Anything to report?” Bhati asked.

  “About Nev?”

  “Yes.”

  Jamal wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to say. “I showed him where the baths were last night. He used it. I didn’t go so far as to watch him, but I remained in the hallway until he was done. We slept. This morning, he had breakfast. He’s still kind of ragged from his trek through the Burning and everything else.”

  “Understood.”

  “May I ask what the plan is for him?”

  “Undetermined at the moment. I’m inclined to suggest he apply to the council for immigration status, but since he was…is the property of a mage, I’m not certain if that’s the best choice.”

  “You’d send him back?”

  “I will follow the decisions of my superiors,” Bhati said.

  “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

  “Yes, fine.”

  “The mage was in the process of trying to kill him. If you send him back, that guy would likely finish the job.”

  “Possibly.”

  “Slavery was officially abolished more than a century ago in Quertesh.”

  “True, but he’s Perathean, and they have different laws. I’m not in a high enough position to start a political incident over a single…individual without backing from the military and/or the council.”

  Jamal was frustrated with the grayness of what was being done. “And in the meantime?”

  “Nev is currently in…we’ll call it a form of protective custody. You seem to have some amount of cooperation from him, so keep an eye on him. Don’t let him wander off and make sure he doesn’t go into the garrison office alone.”

  “Um, yes, sir.”

  “Tarik won’t be back with a reply from my correspondence for at least another day, maybe two. In the meantime, we keep Nev here.

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * * *

  Nev sat on a stone bench at the edge of the courtyard. Jamal and a man who went by the name of Naseer faced each other, each holding a long staff. Attacks and blocks, sweeps and jabs, both of them panted, dripping sweat. Four others pairs of people competed similarly in the open space.

  Nev watched in fascinated curiosity. Two of the people fighting were women. They appeared as equally skilled as the men. The two women were also dressed almost the same as the men, in thigh length tunics, trousers, and knee high boots. In Perathea, that was almost unheard of, both the women fighting and the clothing choice. Eventually, his attention returned to Jamal. The man was sweating heavily and had stopped his practice with Naseer.

  “Okay, I’m done,” Naseer said, bent over, leaning on his staff.

  Jamal chuckled. “Me, too. It’s getting too hot anyway.” He pointed at the sky, where the sun was approaching straight overhead.

  “See you later.” Naseer ambled off toward one end of the barracks.

  Jamal walked past Nev and picked up a dipper from a bucket of water. He chugged it down and then dumped a second amount over his head. Water ran down through his hair and soaked the shoulders of his tunic with more than just sweat.

  “Come. It’s ti
me for ripose.”

  Nev followed. “What’s ripose?”

  “Down time in the hottest part of the day. Sometimes, we sleep. Sometimes, we do sedentary low key chores. Even though Zafar maintains the magic that cools the garrison to some degree, this time of day, it’s still heading toward pretty scorching.”

  In the barracks room that Jamal used, the guardsman stripped off his tunic and sat down on the edge of his bed. Nev noticed the sculpted outlines of his muscles, the dusting of dark hair on his chest, and the sheen of sweat. He was tempted to reach out a hand and touch Jamal’s damp skin. Was this attraction? He’d heard servants in Kustaa’s household talk of lust and desire. To him, they were words. He’d heard descriptions of what those concepts were, but the words were still abstract. He didn’t know if he could tell if they applied to him. Nev sat on the bed he’d slept in the night before.

  “Are you going to sleep?”

  “If I had patrol tonight, I would. Today, however, I think I’ll take advantage of my light schedule and go take a bath.”

  The thought of Jamal fully naked and wet made Nev’s breath catch just a fraction.

  “You want to join me?” Jamal asked.

  Interest instantly converted to panic. Even though Jamal was aware of Nev’s dual nature, the idea of being exposed when his blood cycle was still raging was not something Nev wanted to deal with. He shook his head.

  “Since someone’s supposed to keep tabs on you, let me go across the hall and ask Hanifa if she’s free.” Jamal walked out of the room.

  Should he assume that everyone in the garrison was aware of his tveir identity? Obviously, Jamal knew, as well as the healer and the captain, and none of them seemed to have any major opinion about it other than curiosity.

  A woman, one of those he had seen fighting in the courtyard, came into the room with Jamal.

  “This is Hanifa. Hanifa, Nev. I’ll be back in a bit.” Jamal grabbed up a towel and departed.

  “Come down to the stable with me. I need to work on repairing a bridle,” Hanifa said and beckoned Nev to follow her.

  They fell in step, walking down through the edge of the courtyard. Questions bubbled up through Nev’s mind. He blurted out, “Why are you a guardsman?”

  Hanifa gave him a bemused look. “Because it’s my job.”

  “But you’re a woman.”

  “So? It makes very little difference. Maybe I can’t lift quite as big a cask of olives as some men, but I’m faster and my endurance is better. It’s a trade-off.”

  “Did you request this job?”

  “Yes. There have been border guards in my family for four generations.”

  “Men?” he asked tentatively.

  “Men and women. I’ve heard Perathea is…pretty sexist.”

  “There are rules.”

  “Well, I think you should keep your rules and your opinions to yourself,” Hanifa said.

  “I didn’t say I agreed. I’m in an unfamiliar situation.”

  She made a grunt of comment and continued into the stable. As she hunted through the tack hanging on the walls, Nev observed the horses in their stalls and approached the pale gray one he thought was Jamal’s.

  “If you feed him, he’ll be your friend forever,” Hanifa said.

  “This one?” Nev pointed to the gray one.

  “Stonekicker. He’s the one Jamal rides. I wouldn’t call him world’s brightest horse, but he’s reliable and always looking for a handout.” Hanifa handed Nev a carrot. Stonekicker immediately lifted his head a little.

  Nev held the carrot in the palm of his hand, and the horse quickly nipped it up, crunching contently. He patted the horse’s nose.

  “He loves you now.” Hanifa had the bridle flung over her shoulder and was measuring out a length of waxed thread. “There’ll be a supply delivery after dark today. Food, hay, and some other things. Hey, if you want to be useful, you could add some hay to all the mangers. It’ll keep the horses happy for the afternoon.” Hanifa used a wooden peg to force the needle through the leather bridle, then gestured toward a pile of hay at the end of the stalls.

  “Okay.” Nev began the task, occasionally looking at Hanifa.

  Her long dark hair was bound in a tight braid. What would it be like to have long hair, even if it wasn’t as long as hers? Kustaa had insisted all his male servants keep their hair very short. Nev was included in that edict. He had tried to protest once, making a case that he wasn’t truly male, no more than he was female. That argument had not ended well.

  He fed all the horses, going back to observe Hanifa when he was done. “Sewing is not something I’ve done.”

  “It’s not hard per se, though cloth is easier than leather.”

  “Does everyone mend tack or just you?” Nev put his hand to his belly. The gut-wrenching cramps were back.

  “We’ve all done it at some point. I’m just pickier about the condition of the equipment I use than some.”

  “So it’s not a woman’s task?” Nev shifted his stance, trying to ease the pain.

  She chuckled. “You’re definitely stuck in a rut on that.”

  “Perathea is so different.”

  “Maybe that’s why the war keeps coming back.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Are you okay? You look like you might pass out,” Hanifa said.

  “Sorry, I’m just…it hurts.”

  “The word around is that the guy who owns you beat you on a pretty regular basis. Still healing?”

  “No, it’s not that.” He put his hand on the wall, trying to convince himself that he shouldn’t sit down and draw his knees to his chest.

  Hanifa stood up and guided him to sit on a hay bale. “Maybe I should go find Ishaq.”

  “It’ll pass.”

  “If you were female, I’d think you had cramps.”

  Nev thought he would cry. Every person, everyone who ever knew…it was a gamble on what their reaction would be. “I do,” he murmured.

  “But…”

  “I’m tveir. I was made both male and female. My blood cycle is happening.”

  Hanifa blinked, frowned, and looked puzzled. “You’re joking.”

  “No.” Nev contemplated going back out to the courtyard. Sitting in the heat of the sun might ease the pain.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Wow. It’s kind of like seeing a unicorn for the first time. Everyone’s sort of aware that a few exist, but hardly anyone’s ever seen a real one.”

  Should he laugh or cry? “I’m a freak.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just sort of weirdly cool…and I’m being an ass. Come on, you do need Ishaq. The guy has four daughters. I’m sure he has something that will help.” She pulled Nev to his feet.

  * * * *

  Damp and clean, a towel wrapped around his waist, Jamal walked into his room. Nev was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a wooden cup on the mattress in front of him, tipping back and forth. It took Jamal a moment to realize that the cup was hovering a couple of inches above the bed as it wobbled.

  Nev looked up, an expression of panic of his face, and the cup dropped to the bed.

  “You can do magic,” Jamal said.

  Nev was silent, hands clenched.

  “It’s cool. Not many have the talent.” Jamal pulled a lightweight thawb from the chest at the foot of his bed.

  “Please don’t tell anyone,” Nev said.

  “Okay.” Jamal dropped his towel and slid the robe over his head. “But why? You think people will beg you to do things for them?”

  “I’m not supposed to be capable of magic, but I used it to break the cords that bound me to the post when Kustaa was preparing to sacrifice me. If I’m sent back, he will kill me. Why am I even worrying about why? He will kill me anyway. But it will be worse because I used it against him. I attacked him, he who created me.”

  Jamal sat down on the bed beside Nev. “Bhati mentioned that you might be eligible for immigration status. I don
’t know what that entails exactly, but try not to panic. If the captain didn’t bundle you up and ship you back immediately, there’s hope.” He cupped his hand under Nev’s chin and rubbed his thumb along Nev’s jaw.

  Nev raised his eyes to meet Jamal’s. His expression was a mix of sorrow and apprehension. He didn’t pull away from Jamal’s touch.

  Jamal leaned in a little, not sure if Nev would object. “Can I kiss you?”

  Nev looked a little startled.

  “If you don’t want me to, that’s fine,” Jamal blurted out.

  “Please, yes.”

  Leaning in closer, Jamal pressed his mouth against Nev’s, a chaste kiss. A rush of warmth filled him. Magic? It felt like he could sense pleasure and a wonder from Nev. Was it his imagination? He continued the kiss, bumping noses, changing the angle slightly, enjoying the interaction. When he finally tilted his head back and looked at Nev, the Perathean gave him a hint of a smile, the first Jamal had seen from him.

  “I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.”

  * * * *

  Two wagons delivered food, hay, and other necessary items to the garrison every two to three days, usually at dusk. The supply depot was only about four hours travel time from the garrison.

  All available personnel helped with unloading. This evening that included Nev. Jamal had found a pair of boots close enough in fit for Nev to use. The large main gate was open; the wagons parked near the opening. Jamal hefted a hay bale and lugged it in the direction of the stable area.

  “Wouldn’t it have made more sense for the wagons to be pulled into the courtyard?” Nev asked, toting another bale.

  “Enh, even though the gate is technically wide enough, getting the wagons in, turned around, and able to negotiate the gate again going out, is a monumental pain in the ass.”

  “Oh.”

  Bales deposited in the stable, Jamal and Nev headed back out to continue their task. Hanifa was at the back of a second wagon, placing boards so that a huge barrel could be rolled down. Another guardsman, up in the wagon, rocked the barrel back and forth, walking toward the edge…and suddenly it was too close and began to tip. Hanifa was directly underneath the path of its fall.

  Nev lunged out beside Jamal, both hands stretched in front of him. He was still more than a dozen steps from the falling barrel…and it stopped. The barrel hovered at an impossible angle, neither continuing its fall nor raising back up. Hanifa made a mad scramble. She let the board she had her hands on fall to the sand and got away from the wagon.