Letter XIV (C.D. to F.M.)

My dear Foofri,

Are you sitting down? Because you should probably brace yourself for this next piece of news: I know all about the Suldan Stones.

At least, as much as it is possible to know without actually using them. Winterfast has told me ALL. At least, as much as he knows (I think).

How, you ask, did I come by this astounding information? Did I torture the poor man? Did I employ devious wiles? Did I delve into arcane mysteries and construct a thought cube?

No. I just ate breakfast.

As you will remember from my last letter, Muse was waiting for me when I woke up after my first night at Winterfast. I immediately composed a reply, and by the time I’d sent him off with it, I was starving.

As a side note, I have to say that one of the best things about staying here is the bacon. When I went down to breakfast, I found a heaping platter of it on the buffet, piping hot, thin and fried to that perfect crispness that simply melts in your mouth. So I ate some bacon, and then I had porridge and fruit salad, and then I had more bacon. At this point, Winterfast came in to pour himself a cup of tea and join me at the breakfast table.

“Bacon?” I offered, holding up the platter I’d moved from the buffet to be more convenient.

He manfully refused, and I helped myself to a few more pieces. “I can’t remember if I thanked you properly last night for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it. Particularly since the breakfasts are so good.”

He didn’t respond to my light tone, however, just sat frowning down into his tea. “You can stay here as long as you like, of course, Cordelimaera. Stephanus was a good friend, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you out. It’s appalling that you should be thrown into such danger, and it’s equally appalling that the Board won’t even tell you what kind of danger you’re in.”

I froze, hardly daring to hope.

Winterfast set his cup in its saucer with a decided clink. “It’s time you knew the truth.”

He led me into his library (he told me I could bring the bacon, but I declined, considering that my most serious Council demeanor was called for) where he activated the sound barrier that he normally uses for chess games. Nobody could eavesdrop on our conversation, magically or otherwise.

Winterfast took a deep breath and said, “The Stones gather information.”

I frowned, confused. “How? Are they … scrying stones?”

He shook his head. “That I don’t know. If they are, they are the most powerful scrying stones ever enchanted. But I do know that because of them, in times of great crisis the government has always gotten the information it needs. Strategic information for battles. Location information on dangerous criminals. Advance warning of invasion. You see now why they must be kept so secret.”

I nodded. Winterfast’s information fit with what I had learned from the history book. “Every government in the world would be after them.”

“Everyone with a taste for power,” he amended.

“And they’re mine,” I said, suddenly feeling a little frightened.

“You are the last Demestheln.”

I thought hard. “But the secret’s out, isn’t it? Someone knows what they are, and for power like that … I really am in danger, aren’t I?”

“Yes. And because you must endure the danger brought by the Stones, it’s not right that you should be kept in ignorance of their true nature. You have the power and the right over them. That is why I have chosen to defy the Council and tell you what I know, little enough as it is. I only know what I have told you because my friendship with Stephanus was of such long standing.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully. “Thank you so much.”

He nodded. “You have good sense and good courage, Cordelimaera. I have faith in you.” Patting me on the shoulder, he lowered the sound barrier and left me alone to think.

The enormous scandal of Sedgwick’s theft and disappearance makes sense to me now. The entire time the Stones were missing, the Board of Masters must have been on edge, waiting for the Stones to be turned against them. And of course the rest of family could never be entirely free from suspicion, which is why the Board hasn’t asked me to use the Stones to clear up this mess. Surely this counts as a time of great crisis. If the Stones are so powerful, then it is of the utmost importance we discover who is trying to steal them (if anyone actually is. After all, Damorin was only guessing that Blivius’s murder was linked to the Stones.)

Foofri, I’ve come to a decision. The Board doesn’t want me to use the Stones because they don’t trust me. But the Stones are my responsibility and my right. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it, Board or no Board. (Besides, I’m tired of being ordered around.) I don’t know how I’m going to get the Stones out of the vault yet, and then I’ll have to figure out how to work them, but I’ll find a way. Perhaps Muse could be of use, and as his mistress, you could order him to keep his mouth shut.

Hopefully, I will be able to take action before long. Blivius’s funeral is tomorrow, followed by Damorin’s public swearing in to the Board. Hopefully, his new duties will keep him much too busy to interfere with me. (I will try and send you some news clippings on the event—I’m certain there will be plenty. The headlines today are all screaming about the murder and the new Master, and I read a few nasty remarks about untimely promotion. I admit, it’s a bit odd to think of someone only seven years older than me being appointed to the Board, but he’s the only in Seventh Skillhouse who even comes close to being qualified for Blivius’s chair.)

I hope your journey is going well. I must admit that I almost envy you the adventure, especially since you will have to pass by Fort Thunderhall, which is only the home of the most dashing heroes in the Realm! Since Sean seems to know the territory well, perhaps he has friends at the fort! You might actually get to meet some swashbuckling soldiers! If you do, swoon for me.

Speaking of Sean, I’ve been considering what you told me of your conversation with him in the troll wagon. (Thank you for the extensive description, by the way. It seems we have been wildly misled as to the actual cultural traditions of trolls! I’m envisioning a startling exposé in one of the weekly sensation papers as an introduction to your memoirs.) Although I was at first irritated that he would presume to criticize the magical practices of the entire Realm, my own security issues have made me realize that he is quite right about the universal presence (and therefore vulnerability) of the stability component. I must invent new security wards for my house before Damorin allows me to move back in, so I will try to make the spell components more varied. If possible, please ask Sean if he has ideas for alternate solutions. (However, I do think it is exaggerated to say, “spells from the Realm are all the same.” If that were so, I could have gotten out of the Academy in ten years instead of two.)

Most affectionately,
Cordy

PS Carrying around a dressing gown at all times is a silly suggestion. Therefore, I am going to suggest it to Lady Lucinda and see what her hat looks like next week.

PPS Do you think Muse is reading our correspondence?

PPPS When all of this is over, let’s borrow your father’s troll wagon for a road trip and pretend to be gypsies!