Free The Princess of Trelian by Michelle Knudsen

and then? You don’t suppose —?” His eyes flicked up, and he suddenly noticed Calen sitting there. “Oh, ah . . . your apprentice has joined us, I see.”
    Serek turned to take in Calen and the plates of food. “Ah, thank you, Calen. Mage Anders of Everton, may I present Apprentice Calen of Trelian. Calen, Mage Anders is an old friend of mine.”
    “Old, indeed,” Anders said, giving Calen a little nod of greeting. He seemed friendly enough, but he gave Calen one of those overly long looks that had been making him antsy all afternoon. “Congratulations on your marking, young Calen. A mage’s first true mark is not an experience he ever forgets. Of course, yours may be more memorable than most, I suspect. Quite a show we had this afternoon, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes, sir,” Calen replied respectfully. He was still stuck on the idea that Serek had called this man his friend. He hadn’t thought Serek had any friends.
    Anders opened his mouth to say something else, but just then the sound of a bell rang out. The council masters were sitting in the center circle, a quarter of the way around the room from where Calen and Serek were. Mage Renaldiere was holding a silver bell aloft in one hand. The other council members were seated along the same row to either side of Galida and Renaldiere. Conversations around the room quickly died down, and all the mages turned their attention to the center.
    “I don’t have to emphasize how serious the events of this afternoon were,” Mage Galida began. “The members of the council have spent some time reinforcing our defenses and constructing several new layers of wards and alarms, but since we thought we were already adequately protected before . . . well, obviously we want to figure out what exactly happened, and how, and who was responsible. As we were unable earlier to determine anything about the source of the spell, we are here to see what further information we might be able to pull together and to determine appropriate action.” She turned to look at Serek. “Mage Serek? I believe you have something to report.”
    Suddenly all the eyes in the room were on them. Calen swallowed nervously. He’d known he would have to tell about the colors; he just hadn’t thought it would be the very first item on the agenda. He wasn’t ready to have everyone looking at him again already.
    Serek nodded. “Thank you, Council Master.” He looked around and addressed his words to the surrounding tables: “As many of you have heard by now, my apprentice has a unique gift. He is able to see colors when magic is cast nearby, and is beginning to be able to identify types of magic by the colors associated with the casting. I know we meant to have a separate discussion about his ability, but in light of today’s events, I thought it might be helpful to hear his interpretation of what happened in the assembly hall.”
    He looked expectantly at Calen. A murmuring had broken out among the mages, which only made it harder for Calen to will himself to speak. Did they have to stare and mutter like that? He was intensely aware of Serek’s gaze, which seemed to be growing ever so slightly impatient.
    Stop being such a baby,
he told himself, and strangely it sounded like Meg’s voice in his head. She would have no problem speaking in front of a crowd, of course. But more important, she would do whatever needed to be done without whining about it. He had a responsibility to help here if he could. He opened his mouth. “Well —”
    “With all due respect,” another mage broke in, “we as yet have no documented proof of the apprentice’s alleged ability to see these colors. How do we know that what he saw was anything other than his own imagination?”
    “It was
not
—” Calen began, but Serek laid a warning hand on his arm.
    “Why don’t we hear what he has to say before arguing about its validity?” Galida said dryly. After a moment, the mage who had spoken nodded in acquiescence. All