Left Hand Magic by Nancy A. Collins Page A

my ground, refusing to be intimidated by someone who looked like a half-drowned rat.
    “How dare you—?!” the Witch Queen said in a voice as sharp and steely as a surgeon’s scalpel. “You enter my home uninvited, threaten my servants, insult both me and my guest, attack my son, and then, to add injury to insult, set fire to my good tablecloth!”
    “I’ll admit that things got a little out of control,” Esau said as he tried to wring the rainwater from his sodden overcoat. “But it’s not my fault—your brat challenged me!”
    “Yeah, you sure schooled me in the superiority of the Left Hand,” Hexe snorted.
    Esau opened his mouth to retort, only to fall silent under the Witch Queen’s withering stare.
    “I don’t care how much business Hexe has cost you, Esau—not even a member of the royal family is permitted to raise a left hand against the Heir Apparent! By Kymeran law, what you just did qualifies as attempted regicide, with a penalty of death. For years I have tolerated your bullying and disrespect out of a misplaced sense of loyalty and, yes, guilt. But I can no longer ignore or excuse your behavior.
    “What I am about to say, Esau, does not come easy to me, but you have left me no choice. You are my brother. When we were children, I loved you and looked up to you. But that was before you chose to walk the Left Hand Path. The lifestyle you embrace has turned the boy I once adored into a bitter, twisted stranger. I would give anything to have the brother I knew and loved restored to me, but I realize now that you are too far down the spiral to ever return.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, readying herself for what she had to say. “Esau: I now speak to you not as your sister but as the Witch Queen. As of this moment forward, you are banished from the royal presence. I never wish to see your face or hear your voice again. Should you cross my path, I will have no choice but to treat you as a hostile and engage you in ritual combat. Now leave me, and consider yourself lucky I do not banish you from Golgotham as well.”
    For the briefest moment there was a flicker of sorrow in Esau’s golden eyes, like a cloud scudding across the face of the moon. Then the darkness returned, dimming what little light remained within him.
    Lady Syra gestured to the door of the dining room, which swung open of its own accord, revealing a worried Amos standing on the threshold. Esau bowed stiffly to his sister, then turned on his heel and strode from the room without a backward glance.
    Lady Syra watched him go, her hands clasped tightly before her. Save for the single tear running down her cheek, it was as if she was made of stone, neither breathing nor blinking until Hexe touched her shoulder. Only then did she start, as if waking from a dream.
    “That was a very difficult and unpleasant thing for me to do. But it was inevitable,” she said wearily. “I’m sorry you were subjected to such poor manners by a member of my family, Tate. Normally my dinner guests needn’t fear dying in a house fire. I can see why my son is so taken with you—you possess a strong lick of courage. Not everyone would have kept their head under such circumstances. Now, if you don’t mind—Amos and I need to address the damage done to my home. I trust you can find your way out.”
    Hexe nodded his understanding, and kissed his mother on the forehead. She smiled wanly and caressed his cheek before motioning for Amos to join her in the heavily sodden and badly charred dining room.
    As we passed by the wall of photographs on our way out, my eye was caught by an old Kodachrome that showed a teenaged Lady Syra dressed in a miniskirt, standing with her arm about the shoulder of a handsome, slightly older Kymeran man with an indigo blue Beatles haircut, dressed in a paisley-print Nehru jacket. With a start, I realized the friendly, smiling face and kind, caring golden eyes belonged to Esau.

Chapter 5
     
    S ince we didn’t