May 3

May 3 The Pale-Eyed Mage

The Pale-Eyed Mage - book excerpt

Chapter 1

Sheldrake was a mage. His wife, Maud, was a shape-changer. They lived in a large, thatched cottage, grandly named Batian House, surrounded by an idyllic cottage garden, situated less idyllically, on the main road out of Highkington, the capital of Carrador. Behind the cottage lay stables and a working farmyard that opened onto paddocks stretching to distant bushland. All day long and most of the night, carts, carriages, horses and pedestrians passed within fifty yards of Sheldrake and Maud’s front door. After a festival, the sounds of wheels, hooves and feet would be compounded by voices raised in song, chatter and argument.

For years, Sheldrake and Maud Batian had considered growing a hedge to deaden the noise, but firstly they were proud of their garden and liked to give passers-by the chance to admire it and secondly, they watched with interest the parade of life that passed along the road. They would often sit out in their front garden and wave to people they knew. Sometimes one or the other of them would lean on the front gate and exchange words with people, friends and strangers alike, as they passed, not letting on for a moment that their interest was as professional as it was friendly.

But not tonight.

On this cold, dark, rainy night, no one was travelling past their front gate and so did not hear the screams that issued from the idyllic cottage. Maud was giving birth.

Tall and spare, Sheldrake generally tried, often unsuccessfully, to appear phlegmatic. Right now, he paced the corridor outside, firmly banished from the bedchamber by his wife and their head groom, Beth, who was assisting with the delivery. Clive, their butler, trod heavily up the stairs, bearing a crystal decanter filled with a particularly fine whisky and one glass on a fine silver tray.

Sheldrake frowned in irritation at the tray. “Clive, you can’t expect me to drink alone. I need moral support. Go back and get a glass for yourself.”

Clive placed the tray on a small inlaid table, then grinned as he withdrew a second glass from his pocket, with a slight flourish. “One must be prepared for all eventualities, sir.”

Sheldrake gave a snort of laughter. “Good man.” He ran his hand over his immaculately neat black hair. “This is the most harrowing experience of my life. I had no idea Maud had such a loud voice…or would have to endure such pain.”

Just as he was taking a filled glass from the tray, another scream rent the air, making his hand shake so much he nearly dropped it. Clive’s big hand came down on his shoulder. “Easy does it, sir. She’ll be all right. My Beth’s in there looking after her and she’s birthed hundreds.”

“But Maud is not a horse.”

“That’s right, sir. Not at the moment,” said Clive in a calm, comfortable voice. He gave a reminiscent smile, “Eh, but she’s a fine galloper when she is, though. Isn’t she, sir?”

Sheldrake gave a reluctant smile. “Yes she is. But she is her true human form now, just as she must be, to give birth, and I don’t know that Beth has as much experience with people.”

“Don’t you worry, sir. Animals are all much the same. It will be fine,” Clive said, just as he would to any child, dog, or horse in distress.

On the other side of the door, Maud lay on a heavily carved four-poster double bed, her long, dark brown hair in a tangled halo across the pillows, her teeth clenched as another wave of pain began its crescendo. As the contraction reached its peak, Maud opened her mouth and howled.

“That’s it, pet. One last push. The baby’s coming.” A thin, dried up woman in her fifties knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed, the head of the baby already in her hands. She wasn’t a healer, at least not primarily, but she’d brought hundreds of foals, lambs and calves into the world and she had known for months that this baby would be a boy. “That’s it,” she said, as the baby gushed forth into the world. “You’ve done it. Good girl.”

For long moments, tense silence filled the room before healthy little lungs bellowed in distress at the sudden change in circumstances. Both women smiled, tears of relief in their eyes. Beth tied and cut the umbilical cord, then gently wiped the child over with a soft damp cloth before wrapping him in a warm blanket and handing him to his waiting mother. Once Beth had tidied away the afterbirth and straightened the bed covers, she opened the door and beckoned Sheldrake to enter.

“Come and meet your new son, sir.”

Sheldrake nearly catapulted into the room in his eagerness to see his wife and new child. Clive was close behind him, relieved despite his calming words. Sheldrake sat on the edge of the bed and together, he and Maud looked fondly down at the bright pink, scrunched up face of their first born, marvelling at the little nose and mouth and the perfect tiny fingers.

Then the child opened his eyes.

Sheldrake froze. Maud gasped in horror.

“What is it?” asked Clive urgently.

“His eyes,” breathed Maud. “They’re white.”

Sheldrake frowned and leaned closer. After a close inspection, he shook his head. “No. They are not white. The pupils are black and the irises are a very pale lavender… hmm… but they look white.”

“Can he see?” demanded Clive.

Beth intervened. “A new baby’s vision is blurry anyway. He can’t focus or track yet. So you probably won’t be able to tell for a few weeks. He will be trying to focus on you, Maud, but if he turns his head to you, he could be just following your voice or the sound of your movement at the moment.” She shrugged. “Most babies have bluey coloured eyes at birth and then often the colour changes. So maybe his will, too.”

Even as they watched, the seemingly white eyes darkened to a faint lavender as the light reacted with the melanin in his irises, but they were still unnaturally pale.

Beth shrugged. “A small change often happens the first time the light hits their eyes, but you won’t know his final eye colour for months yet.”

Maud gave a strained smile. “Never mind. I will love him anyway. He is perfect in every other way.”

But Sheldrake knew what she feared. “Don’t worry, my love. The merit of a person is not determined by his eye colour. My grandmother’s morals would have been just as bad, had she had blue or brown eyes.”

“But the power, Sheldrake.”

Sheldrake grimaced. “Yes, dear. Madison was powerful, but I do not know that any direct link was made between her eye colour and her particular powers. Besides, we too are powerful. So I think we can assume that our son will inherit at least some degree of magical ability, don’t you? It would be stranger if he did not.”

“But will he be able to manage it? Will he use it justly?”

“That will be up to us to determine, don’t you think?” Sheldrake looked at Beth and Clive, before adding, “All of us.”

Chapter 2

During the following two years, Jayhan grew into an unremarkable toddler. Everything about him was normal, except for his eyes. He was a dear pudgy little boy, with a shock of blond hair that would darken to auburn by the time he was five.

Everyone, when they saw his eyes for the first time, drew back in consternation. Most adults tried to cover their reactions, partly out of kindness and partly out of courtesy. But many children, especially those in the village jealous of his privileged position, would stare unashamedly and whisper ostentatiously behind raised hands to their friends.

On the day after his eighth birthday, as Jayhan was trotting down the street holding his father’s hand, a jeering voice called out “Spooky!”

Even before Sheldrake could turn around, the children had fled. The mage frowned ferociously around the empty streets but could see no one to berate.

Worse still, his reaction encouraged the jeerers. The voices continued their taunts from the cover of the side streets.

“Spooooky!”

“Ooh. Ghoul eyes!”

“Crow’s eyes. Hey, your mother’s a crow.”

“He’s a ghoul. He’s a ghoul!”

“Back from the dead.”

Jayhan didn’t understand what they were saying but he knew why. When they arrived home, just as his father was thinking Jayhan hadn’t noticed, the boy asked, “What’s a ghoul? What is back from the dead? I thought when people died, they stayed lying down.”

Sheldrake was discomforted by his questions and tried to fob him off. “They do, Jayhan, they do. Just ignore those stupid children. They don’t know what they are talking about.”

“They hate my eyes, don’t they, Dad?”

Sheldrake huffed. “Nothing wrong with your eyes. You can see out of them, can’t you? What more do you want?” After a moment, he said dismissively. “Ignorant people annoy me.”

Jayhan glanced up at him but could tell he wouldn’t get any more out of him. That didn’t mean he would let the subject drop though, just that he would have to look for other avenues to find out.

Remembering the comment about crow’s eyes, Jayhan took himself out into the garden and set himself up to play with a pair of wooden horses and a tiny carved carriage under a camellia tree where he was hidden behind a large lavender bush.

He watched a pair of blue wrens flit from branch to branch then onto the lawn for a while before flitting back into the bushes and disappearing. A black bird came and went, then two pairs of red-rumped parrots swooped in and pecked their way across the lawn before something startled them and they flew off in a flash of colour. For a while the lawn remained empty and Jayhan became so absorbed in his game that he nearly missed the crow when it landed in the middle of the lawn looking for bugs.

Jayhan studied its eyes. Their irises were bright white.

Jayhan sat back on his heels and thought about it. He had never particularly noticed the colour of crows’ eyes before, but now that he had, he thought they were very interesting; different from other birds. Then he pondered the remark that his mother was a crow. He watched the glossy black, intelligent bird working its way across the lawn and decided that would be no bad thing. He knew his mother shape-shifted and could become a crow, if she wanted to, but that her true form was human. On the other hand, he doubted that the boys in the village knew that. More than that, he could tell they had been trying to upset him. He decided he would seek out Beth and talk to her.

He found her in the tack room in the stable, sitting on a stool next to a brazier, polishing a worn bridle that was nearing the end of its days. She looked up and smiled as he entered, no longer even noticing his pale lavender eyes.

“What have you been up to, young one? You have muddy knees again.”

Jayhan grinned, knowing she didn’t care. “Watching a crow. It has even paler eyes than mine. Bright white they are.”

She looked at him a moment then said, “They must be beautiful then.”

He put his head on one side and thought about it. “They look very bright because crows are so black. I like bright things.” He scuffed the toe of his shoe in the dirt, “But Beth, the boys in the village called me Crow’s Eyes and said my mum was a crow. I don’t really mind either of those things but I think they were trying to be mean. And they called me spooky and ghoul and said I was back from the dead.” He grimaced in memory. “What’s a ghoul anyway? And I never died. So how can I be back? And anyway you can’t come back from being dead… can you?”

“Jayhan, Jayhan, settle down. Too many questions.” She put down the bridle with one hand while she held up the other to forestall his protest. “Give me time. No, you can’t come back from the dead.” She ticked her answers off on her finger as she talked. “A ghoul is make-believe evil spirit that digs up dead humans and eats them.” Beth gave a brief laugh as Jayhan screwed up his face in distaste. “Yes, lucky they’re make-believe, isn’t it? And being spooky means…”

“I know what spooky is… and creepy,” cut in the small boy. “I’ve often heard people say it when they thought I wasn’t listening.”

Beth looked stricken. “Oh Jayhan.” She held her arms wide in invitation and Jayhan walked straight in and hopped up onto her knee. She hugged him to her and rocked him gently back and forth.

For a minute or two he let his head rest against her shoulder, mostly because Beth needed him to. Then he sat up abruptly and chortled. “I don’t care if people get creeped out by my eyes. They’re just being silly. Eyes can’t hurt you no matter what colour they are.” For a moment he looked uncertain. “Can they?”

Beth shook her head. “No young one, they can’t.” He felt her ribs tighten slightly as though she were about to say something more but she let her breath out and remained silent.

“But…?”

She gave a lop-sided smile. “You know me too well. But… some eye colours are owned by particular people or types of people.”

“Oh.” He glanced up at her, then looked down. “So am I a particular type of person that gives people the creeps?”

Beth laughed. “No. You are a particular type of person who distracts me from my work.” She lifted him off her knee. “Now off you go and entertain yourself for a while.”

Jayhan obliged but he had heard a forced note in her laugh and knew that she had dodged talking to him about it. One more line of enquiry closed.

Jayhan gave up asking and no one noticed when he started to avoid looking at people or that his sunny smile had dimmed a little. And when his father invited him to accompany him to the village, Jayhan found excuses not to go.

After the fifth invitation was avoided, Sheldrake scowled at his son. “Your studies can wait. Don’t you like to do things with me? Perhaps I should get someone else to tutor you in magic.”

Jayhan’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh no, dad. I love being with you. It’s just….”

“It’s just what?”

“I don’t really like the village.”

“The village has a lovely little shop with lovely little treats.”

Jayhan produced a smile. “It has chocolate frogs, doesn’t it?”

Sheldrake ruffled his hair. “Yes it does. So let’s go.”

As they walked through the village, Jayhan kept his eyes cast down until his father reproved him and told him to hold his head up. So when the village kids jeered at him he glared back defiantly, and the intense gaze of his pale eyes cowed them more than any rebuke his father could make.