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

Dear Foofri,

When I first read your letter, I was too stunned to feel anything but, well, stunned. Like someone had dropped half a ton of frozen carp on my head. Sean is my cousin? Jamin is his step brother? And Winterfast is a traitor? It was simply too much to take in. I’m not quite so stunned now, and a lot angrier, but I suppose it doesn’t do any good to rant. (I did a bit of that already this evening.)

After I sent Muse off with my letter yesterday morning, I climbed out of the bath and got dressed. I tried fixing my face, but felt utterly exhausted before I was halfway through and had to stop. Then I discovered I was extraordinarily hungry, but a prowl through the kitchen turned up nothing but half a loaf of moldy bread that seemed to get greener even as I stood there wondering if I could scrape off the bad bits.

Fortunately, I was saved from possible demise and certain indigestion by a knock at the door. Jamin Winterfast, the dirty lying rat, stood on my doorstep. He looked relieved when he saw me and told me that he’d been worried about me. (A lie, no doubt). Furthermore, he had a picnic basket emanating all sorts of delicious odors, so I naturally invited him inside (which, I confess, I may have been hungry enough to do, even had I known his dirty lying rat-like nature).

He had brought, Jalwa bless his little rat soul, a platter full of bacon, and I was crunching through it even before we had everything set out on the table. I have no doubt now that he brought the food with the purpose of distracting me while he plied me for information, but fortunately, he overplayed his hand. The breakfast was so good that I really couldn’t be bothered to answer his questions about where I’d been all of yesterday, and why I’d left Winterfast without saying goodbye, and how I got that nasty bruise on my face. I told him to stop pestering me until I was done eating.

He bit into a bagel with lox, looking moody, and then he said, “Maera, there’s something I have to tell you?”

My mouth was full of breakfast munch, but I looked at him encouragingly, since if he talked, I wouldn’t have to.

“I’m falling in love with you,” he said.

I froze mid-chew and stared at him, hoping I had heard wrong.

“I know we haven’t known each other very long,” he continued, “but I’ve never met a girl like you. And after our first meeting, I knew I could love you like I had loved no other woman.”

I briefly wondered how many other women Jamin had loved. Finally managing to swallow, I said bluntly, “I’m sorry if I have in any way led you on, and I’m sorry to cause you pain, but I don’t love you.”

“You haven’t even thought about it,” he accused, grasping my hand. “Only let me try to change your mind.” And before I could believe that he was brazen enough to do what he was doing, he leaned over and gave me a sloppy, loxy kiss.

I tried to keep the revulsion off my face as I pulled away, although in retrospect, I realize I should have beaned him with his own bagel. “That was, uh …” I fumbled for a nice way to tell him that he was a really terrible kisser before I realized that he was staring past me.

I turned and looked. Damorin was in the doorway. Of course he was. Cleary, the entire episode was orchestrated by the universe to cause me the most humiliation possible.

After examining both of us like we were enchantezymes under his magiscope, Damorin finally sauntered forward. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said, in a silky voice as threatening as it was smooth.

The dirty lying rat didn’t even flinch. “Last I checked, Master, this wasn’t your house.”

“Oh for Jalwa’s sake!” I exclaimed, entirely out of patience with both of them. “Sit down, Damorin, and have some breakfast. You’ll feel better.”

“I’ll feel fine when I’ve assured your security by escorting Mr. Winterfast off the premises,” he answered, without breaking his eye lock with Jamin. “It’s nothing personal.”

Unfortunately, if Damorin was determined to kick Jamin out of my house, there wasn’t anything I could do to stop him at least, not without getting violent. It wasn’t worth it.

“Jamin, you’d better go,” I said tiredly.

He looked at me. “Are you certain? I’d be happy to stay if you want company or …” he glanced at Damorin “ … additional protection. It doesn’t look like what you’ve got has been doing a very good job.” He looked pointedly at my bruised cheek.

“Thank you,” I said, “but I’ve got all the protection I can handle. I’ll see you later.”

He left at last, Damorin stalking after him to make sure he actually exited the house.

Fortunately, he took a long time coming back, so I had time to compose myself, and remind myself that who I kissed was none of his business. I half expected him to grill me, but he looked positively cheerful (for him) as he sat down across from me and helped himself to the toast.

Well, if he didn’t care about what had just happened, I didn’t care either. I took another munch in order to prove just how much I didn’t care.

“How do you feel?” he asked, ignoring my observation.

“Fine, thank you,” I insisted. Of course I was fine. Perfectly, absolutely fine. “Did you take the Stones back to the vault?”

“Do you honestly think I would leave you alone in the house with them?” he returned. “How is your magic?” he persisted.

“Weak,” I had to admit. “I tried healing my cheek, but I couldn’t.”

“Self-healing spells are draining anyway, and magical ability is always the last to recover after an encounter with the Stones,” he told me pushing away from the table. “Come over to the light, and I’ll do it for you.”

Since I was perfectly fine, I walked over to the window and tilted up my face. “I think I hit the edge of the worktable on the way down,” I explained, as his fingers gently probed my discolored cheek. “I don’t know for sure, that is …” It was a bit difficult to think, since I couldn’t help remembering the last time we had stood this close, and I desperately willed myself not to blush. I closed my eyes as warmth began to radiate from his fingers.

He sounded amused as he said, “Don’t look so apprehensive. I consider it bad form to kiss during breakfast.”

My eyes flew open. “I wasn’t thinking about that!” I insisted, even though, of course, I had been.

He smiled. Slowly. “Yes, you were.” He dropped his hand and stepped back. “The bruise is gone.” Then he frowned and reached to touch my other cheek. “Did you strike both sides of your face?”

I remembered the princess’s scratch and said hastily, “If you must know …” I paused, distracted as he began a new healing spell.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“I was wondering why you gave me that mask.”

“Do I really have to explain that to you, Cordelimaera?”

“I think you owe it to me.”

“You asked for it.”

“That is not what I meant!” I protested. “The point of a mask is to hide what you’ve been doing. The one you gave me did the opposite! You should have seen your mother’s face.”

He finished the spell and stepped back again. “By the way, Lastra wants to see you,” he told me, effectively changing the subject.

“Why?” I asked, dismayed.

“He wants to tell you about the Stones.”
“Tell me?” I repeated in disbelief. “Not punish me?”

“Those were his words,” he promised.

That afternoon, I found myself in Master Lastra’s office, trying not to cower as the head councilman himself glared at me.

“Magi Cordelimaera, you’ve been causing me a great deal of trouble,” he growled.

“And the Board of Masters has been causing me a great deal of trouble,” I answered back, supposing that I couldn’t possibly be getting myself into any worse trouble.

To my relief, however, his glower faded into a look of amusement. “I suspect that is true. So I propose a truce. I will tell you why we have been putting so much effort into keeping you from the Stones, if you will, in turn, promise to stay away from them.”

“I will if I agree with your reasons,” I said.

“I find that I don’t have the energy to argue with you,” he said dryly. “Very well. The reason we have tried so hard to keep you from them is that they are dangerous.”

“That, I knew,” I informed him.

“They killed your grandfather,” he told me.

I felt lightheaded and had to grip the sides of my chair very hard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly that.” He sighed and tugged at his beard. “I am sorry to be so blunt, but you are obviously not the kind of young woman who takes well to coddling.” He pulled on his beard again, before continuing, “I think we were all of us sorry to see the Stones come back. We’d gotten along fine without them, and as the records show, their presence always caused more trouble than they were worth. There was their danger to those who used them, for one thing. And the constant fear that someone would steal them. And the … inappropriate requests from various personages in the government. In some ways, it had been a relief when Sedgwick disappeared with them. But somebody returned them anonymously, and, well, it was important that we know who that person was. Stephanus tried to use the Stones to find out, but they don’t work well without a specific focus. You felt their power. You know how dangerous they can be, if you get lost in them.”

I remembered my own terrifying experience, and the thought of Grandfather going through the same thing, only not able to get out – Foofri, I nearly couldn’t take it.

Lastra was saying something else, but I had a hard time listening to it. “The terms of your grandfather’s will,” was the first thing that registered.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” I asked.

“I was saying that since under the terms of your grandfather’s will, Master Ardaya is the estate’s executor and your legal guardian, he assumed responsibility for the Stones until you come of age in six months.”

“Damorin is my guardian?” I asked, dumbfounded.

It was Lastra’s turn to look surprised. “You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. “No, I thought Uncle …” I tried to understand that Damorin, of all people, was my guardian, and I found I didn’t like it at all.

“Thank you, Master,” I said abruptly, “you’ve very kind to explain all of this, but I think I need to go now. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Damorin was waiting to take me back home, and I did my best not to talk to or look at him on the way. He let me sit in silence until we arrived at the house. I climbed down as fast as I could, not waiting for assistance, and practically ran up the front steps.

“I want you to leave,” I said, as I fumbled with the lock.

“Whatever Lastra told you, we should talk about it.”

“No!” I said sharply. “I’ve been begging you to talk for weeks. It’s too late. I don’t want to hear it.” He laid a hand on my shoulder and I jerked away, spinning to face him. “How could you possibly be my guardian? You’re not even family!”

“Alain was unreachable. Because of the Stones, I was the only other person Stephanus trusted.”

“The Stones,” I said bitterly. “How could you? How could you know how Grandfather died and not tell me?” And then I ran into the house and slammed the door behind me.

I spent a long time pacing back and forth, crying a little, trying to get myself under control. I couldn’t decide whether I was more upset over learning the truth about Grandfather’s death, or furious over Damorin’s betrayal.

I did feel betrayed. I know this adventure has been full of secrets from the beginning, and we’ve all kept things from each other, but this is different. The other secrets he kept were part of his job, but not this. As a friend, he should have told me.

I spent a miserable night and an equally miserable day, until Muse appeared in the late afternoon, with your letter. I seized it with relief, and read it with all appropriate accompanying emotions of horror, betrayal, anger, etc.

It does make a terrible kind of sense. No one was so well placed as Winterfast to make the two attempts on my life. And he was the one who talked me into using the Stones, without guidance or protection. It’s incredibly awful to believe that someone you’ve known your whole life, someone you’re fond of and thought was fond of you, is trying to kill you.

Which, actually, does puzzle me. Why does he think putting me out of the picture will give him access to the Stones and the power he so obviously craves? If I’m dead, the Stones will still be under the control of the Board of Masters, and even if he manages to kill another Master (I think we can assume his involvement in Blivius’s death, can’t we?) what possible benefit does my death give him?

At any rate, I paced and stormed as I read, and Muse watched my dramatics with an expression that wavered between condescending pity and condescending I-told-you-so-ness. I finished by throwing my hands in the air in the best histrionic fashion and declaring, “Isn’t there anyone I can trust?”

“Apparently not,” Muse said, in what he believed to be a sympathetic voice.

“Winterfast wants to kill me, Damorin does nothing but lie to me …” I raged on.

Muse humphed happily. “I could have told you the Master was trouble the first time I saw him. Why else do you think it took me so long to deliver that letter? He closed the security loophole we left for me to get in and out of the house.”

“What?” I demanded.

“And would you like to know what he did the night after you used the Suldan Stones?”

I frowned. “He said he took the Stones back to vault. I think.”

“A convincing cover story,” simpered Muse, “but as a matter of fact …” he paused dramatically, “THE STONES ARE IN YOUR SAFE DOWNSTAIRS! What he actually did …”

But I was already running for Grandfather’s study. Unlocking the safe, I stared at the jumble of contents inside (unlike the vault, the safe is not well organized).

“Back left hand corner,” Muse offered helpfully, and there they were. Had I not known to look for them, I never would have found them. Despite the fact that I obviously should have known better, I’d fallen for Damorin’s assertion that he had put them back in the vault, out of my reach.

And as I held the little velvet bag in my hand, I plan sprang fully formed into my head. Oddly enough, despite what I had learned about the Stones, I felt almost eager to use them again. I wasn’t going to cower from them—I wanted to master them and in so doing, give some dignity to Grandfather’s death.

I wasn’t stupid enough to make another attempt without more information, however, and I wasn’t going to get any more of that from official sources. There was only one place I could think of that might harbor the necessary secrets—the Outskirts, and the records Sedgwick and his daughter may have left behind. Also, the thought of again being with someone whom I trusted (namely you, dearest) was too tempting to resist.

I am going to run away to Fort Thunderhall and hire an escort to bring me through the pass. I even have a cover story that would make you proud of me, all about my only sister who is dying of a rare and incurable disease.

Although I briefly contemplated trying to gather supplies for the journey, I dismissed it as too complicated and too likely to draw attention to my plan. Whatever I needed I would have to buy at the fort. I could, Jalwa forbid, even wear pants if I had to.

The most important thing to figure out was how to get myself to the Fort without being stopped. Once in the Pass and out of the reach of magical communication, I thought I would be safe, but in order to get there, I needed to buy myself at least twenty-four hours. Practically, that meant convincing Damorin to leave me alone, without raising his suspicions.

I at last decided that the best thing to do was finish the fight I had started the day before—if I could make Damorin believe I truly loathed him, he might give me enough space to get away.

I did not find myself looking forward to playing the role as much as I might have thought I would, had it been suggested to me two weeks ago, but I copied out the relevant sections of your letter to show to Damorin, while I tried to work up some of the outrage I had felt yesterday.

Just as I was finishing up with these interesting activities, a postman came to the door bearing a note from no one other than my own new cousin, Sean Valerian. He said that he supposed I had received your letter by now, and that he had just gotten into town. Could he come to see me in an hour? After a bit of deliberation, I sent back an affirmative reply, having decided that my proposed scene might be more effective in front of a witness.

Then, gathering my courage in two hands, I called Damorin on the mirror. He was in his office, and he took the call immediately.

“I’ve had a letter from Foofri,” I said flatly. “Also, Sean Valerian is on his way. I suppose you’d better come over.” And I hung up before he had a chance to reply.

He got there quickly. I wordlessly handed over the pages from your letter (don’t worry, I took out all the personal bits) and watched closely as he read.

It didn’t take a mind reader to know that he was angry. “I never suspected him,” Damorin muttered, when he was done reading, and I suspect that if Winterfast had been standing in the room at that minute, it would not have gone well for him.

“I didn’t either,” I said, slipping for a moment from my role of bristling hostility.

He gave me a look full of sympathy. “Cora—”

“Don’t call me that!” I snapped. “Why don’t you actually do something useful with that sparkly robe for once and go next door to arrest Winterfast?”

“It’s not that simple,” he replied.

“Oh, so you can throw me in the a locked room anytime you want, but you can’t arrest a criminal who has committed an actual crime. Oh that’s right, you can, you’re my guardian.”

“If I didn’t tell you Stephanus had appointed me your guardian, it was because it was irrelevant,” he burst out, his patience finally wearing thin. He took a deep breath and continued in a tightly controlled voice, “All we have is Seamus Valerian’s word about what happened. There is no actual evidence.”

“There must be something you can do.” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you keeping it from me so that I won’t tag along?”

“No,” he insisted.

“Really? Funny, I have absolutely no inclination to believe you.”

A knock on the front door echoed through the house, rather ruining our climactic moment.

“I’ll let Valerian in,” Damorin said abruptly, striding out into the hallway, although whether it was to get away from me or to exchange a private word with Sean, I didn’t know.

When they came back, I looked Sean over for a moment (I admit I noticed that he did grow up quite nicely), and then I said, “So you’re the one who dragged my cousin to the Outskirts on a larat.”

“Hello to you too, cousin,” he said. “I acted to protect Foofri, yes.”

“Protection, protection!” I waved my hands wildly. “Is that all you men ever think about? What about truth and justice? Damorin refuses to arrest Winterfast!”

“There is no evidence,” Damorin repeated, slowly and distinctly.

“He’s right,” Sean agreed. “So far all we have are some shrewd guesses based on hearsay. What we need to do is find the evidence.”

“I have an idea about that,” Damorin said.

Sean and I looked at him expectantly, and for a moment, I actually thought that I wouldn’t have to escape after all, that I could stay and we would all figure this out together. But then Damorin looked at me, and my bubble popped.

“No,” I protested. “No! You are not going to leave me out of this!”

“Winterfast has already tried to kill you.”

“And missed three times. He’ll miss next time, too. Why shouldn’t it be my turn to go after him?”

“Three?” Damorin repeated. “What haven’t you told me?”

“There was a rigged explosion. Amateurish and easily avoided,” I said airily.

“This is why it’s too dangerous!” he exclaimed. “I can’t trust you tell me the truth!”

“Well, maybe if you were more trustworthy, I would tell you the truth.”

He took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down. “And furthermore, you rush into things without thinking them through.”

“That’s not true!” I protested. I’d had a very thought out plan when I had stolen the Stones.

“Yes, it is, especially when you’re angry. In the mood you’re in right now, you’d only endanger everybody,” he said heartlessly.

It hurt, but after all, wasn’t it what I’d been angling for? “Fine!” I shouted. “Just leave me alone and tell me when it’s over then. But don’t expect me to thank you.”

I started to storm out of the room, but he caught my arm. I wrenched away from him so fast that my sleeve tore. “Don’t touch me!” I shouted. “Don’t ever touch me!” And I ran upstairs to barricade myself in my bedroom.

I’m sorry Sean had to witness all of that, but I promise to apologize when it’s all over. At any rate, I must close this letter. Damorin and Sean left the house while I was composing it, and it’s now time for me to leave as well.”

I’ll see you soon. Muse is delivering this letter so that you will know to come and meet me at the border. He is acting strangely reluctant about the whole plan and has been making snide comments about how useless I’ll be in the Shazar Pass, but I suspect it’s because he didn’t think of the plan himself.

All my love,
Cordy

P.S. I stole a moment to cheer myself up by glancing over your memoirs, which look vastly entertaining. I especially enjoyed the part where you defeat Sean in a fencing duel. I sent them to Madam Dorthwany’s office via the post. No doubt she will become more firmly convinced that I am the author, since the much talked about Muse failed to put in an appearance.

Letter XXI (Foofri to Cordy)

Dear Cordy,

You said you didn't know if you believed Muse when he said he'd be back with a letter tonight, but you can believe it! This is probably the quickest response to a letter so far, but current events call for urgency! Sean is following in a day or so and will fill you in on anything I've missed, but let me start from the beginning so you can fully understand how what I've discovered here in the Outskirts affects you and your alarming circumstances!

The Outskirts are not at all like we've been led to believe. There isn't a lot of visible magic, I doubt very many people even know it's there, but someone with a trained eye can see how it's been seamlessly inserted into civilization. All the public works, for example, have been modified with magic. Even what little I've seen of the agricultural layout has been touched by it in some way. The main town (I would even go so far as to call it a small city) is thriving, busy, and very pleasant.

But I have not enjoyed my time here as much as I should. Sean's father and stepmother have been kind and welcoming, I just haven't had anything to do! Marilea offered some of her dresses, which I altered to size and Seamus taught me to fish using only a rod and line, and instructed me in how to clean and cook my catch (I hid my repulsion well when he showed me how to pick the poor creature up, but I couldn't quite hide my horror when he demonstrated how to bash the thing's head in with a rock).

And even though Marilea took me around and showed me everything and introduced me to some very nice people, I felt restless and alone.

I suppose I expected Sean to come and see me. Not an unreasonable idea, after all we'd been through together, but he didn't come. I remembered that he wanted to investigate a few things, but surely that wouldn't take two whole days. The point is, I got tired of waiting and decided to seek him out myself.

Seamus told me earlier that Sean had what he called a “little hermit house” in the forest about a half a mile past the town boundaries and hinted at some basic directions, not thinking I would actually go see him. Since it wasn't too late at the time, I thought I'd stroll on out and see what was keeping him so busy that he couldn't even drop by to see me.

It wasn't until I passed the last houses and stepped into the thick woods that I wondered if making the trek alone might be a little foolish. But, I argued with myself, I was well armed with a very effective protection spell (Muse was absolutely right to include it in your estate protection plan!) and besides that, I had already lived through two separate and very dangerous wraith encounters and was none the worse for wear (aside from being scarred for life, that is). So I kept going.

The forest wasn't too bad, frankly. Just dark and filled with all kinds of noises and with a strong hum of energy which coursed through the air and made the forest seem alive and slightly menacing, but I did a very good job of trying to ignore the feeling (imaginary, I'm sure) that I was being watched.

The path took me deeper and deeper into the woods. I cast an illumination spell to light my way and tried to sing as many annoyingly cheery songs I could think of to keep my spirits up. Just as I finished a pathetic rendition of the normally rousing 'Jalwa's War Ballad' (and thought I might hyperventilate with fear), I saw a few meager lights through the trees in the distance. Quickening my pace, I soon emerged into a little clearing with an eccentric looking house built against the side of a small hill. I rushed to the door and knocked several times before spinning around to scan the forest behind me. It didn't look so bad from where I stood as long as I didn't focus on what appeared to be dark shapes moving within.

All of a sudden, Sean's voice came from somewhere by the door. “Who's there?”

Whirling around, I searched for the source of the voice. To the left of the door, I found a metal tube with a small horn on the end. I cupped my hands around the horn and yelled into it, “It's me, Foofri! Can I come in?”

I heard a low curse on the other end and then Sean appeared in front of me with an angry look on his face. Without a word, he slipped an arm around me and transported us into his entry way.

“What were you thinking?” he blurted, once we reappeared. “No one goes into the forest at night! Not the forest by Seven Oaks, not this forest, not any forest! It's common sense!”

“I'm sorry,” I said indignantly. “But it wasn't quite nightfall when I set out.”

“Jalwa spare me!” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “There is no keeping you out of trouble, is there?”

“I'm not trying to cause trouble, I just haven't seen you in a few days and wanted to make sure you were all right. Besides, if you'll notice, I'm not actually in any trouble, everything's fine. You can relax.”

“Relax,” he repeated in a dry tone, “of course.” He sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“How about a tour?” I asked, brightly.

He looked up, incredulous. “A tour?”

“Yes,” I replied, “Aren't you going to invite me in?” I moved towards the room beyond, but he put out an arm to block my way.

“I don't know if that's such a good idea,” he said.

“Why?” I asked, trying to duck under. “Ashamed of your untidy bachelor ways?”

He stepped more firmly in front of me and rolled his eyes. “No.”

“You're entertaining someone and you want privacy?”

He raised his brow and gave me a pointed look.

“A woman, no doubt,” I added (just for fun).

“No, Foofri,” he said, making it clear he was done with this line of questioning.

“Then why can't I come in?” I pleaded.

He stared at me for a moment and chewed his lip, deciding. “All right,” he said, hesitantly. “There's something I want to show you anyway.” He shook his head and made that little disapproving noise as he led me into the main room (which was much cozier than the exterior led me to expect).

“Why the old hermit house in the middle of a dark forest?” I asked, thinking about the contrast.

“It's a great place for experimenting with magic,” he shrugged. “My work doesn't bother anyone or cause undue alarm.”

I snickered. “Just what kind of experiments are you doing out here?”

He turned around and gave me a slow smile. “That's what I want to show you.” He stared at me again and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

He led me up the stairs into a remarkable little laboratory. Thousands of tiny lights hovered and bobbed just below the pitched roof, illuminating every inch of the tidy space. A large mahogany work table, scrubbed and polished to a shine, filled one corner. Covering the walls behind it were thaumaturgical charts of elements and spell components, carefully written and numbered. Next to these were tall bookcases lined with brightly bound spell books.

Running my hands over the books, I noticed only about half were in Realm. “What languages are these?” I asked, moving to a row of slim volumes with dark, shadowy covers. I felt a soft touch at the small of my back while he reached out to pull away the hand that traced the intricate silver lettering on the spines.

“Nirabian,” he said softly. “But no spells for their famous flying carpets, sadly. That's a carefully guarded secret.”

A stack of garrishly covered books at the bottom of the shelf caught my eye. Kneeling down, I touched the thick, wildly patterned tomes. “I'm guessing these are in troll.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “Good guess,” he said, “and, not surprisingly, they're mostly recipes.” He took my hand again and pulled me to standing. “But that's not what I wanted to show you.”

As he led me past the bookcases, my eyes passed over an old familiar-looking brown leather volume lying alone on the bottom row of the last shelf, but I didn't have time to investigate. In the opposite corner were more shelves, but instead of books, they housed hundreds of tiny cubes, each one filled with a shimmering, undulating substance. In front of the compartments stood a large glass-like chamber, identical to the cubes on the shelf, but large enough for a grown man to stand in and wide enough to fit several people.

“What in the world...?” I said, moving to stand in front of the rows and rows of mysterious little compartments. I wanted to reach out and touch them, but I didn't dare.

“The physical counterpart to my charts,” he said, gesturing to the wall I had first noticed. “These,” he said, showing me the first few shelves, “are elements. These over here are spell components from all over, not just from the Realm. I put as many as I could into separate chambers, even the volatile ones, so I could experiment with them.”

I shook my head and gazed at the vast number of cubes lining the shelves. Each had a number etched on the side which matched its spot on the shelves and its description on the charts. My mind couldn't quite comprehend the possibilities. “Amazing,” I finally said, “but some of these are very powerful. Isn't experimentation a bit dangerous?”

“Yes, which is why I built this, too.” He nodded his head towards the large chamber before reaching over to pluck two elements from the shelves. “Watch.” He tapped the side of the chamber with the cubes and I watched in amazement as the walls of the cubes vanished and the elements spilled into the chamber, fusing together. Grinning widely, he said, “The spell chamber combines them so I don't have to. And when I'm done,” he paused and tapped the glass yet again, “I take them apart and put them back.” The blob of silver which had been hovering inside burst apart and reformed into two separate elements, streaming back into their little cubes and into Sean's hands. He replaced them on the shelf and turned to me, awaiting my response.

“So the chamber combines whatever you put in,” I began, “and then takes them apart when you've finished observing.”

“Or when something goes wrong,” he added. “The parameters of the spell chamber safeguard against any possible danger.”

“So you can try out a spell before actually using it.”

“Precisely. Nothing that happens within the chamber is permanent.”

“I really could have used this in my advanced potions class, you know. My professor winced every time I walked through the door.”

Laughing, he said, “Yes, I use it to teach basic spell construction. When I'm teaching that is. It has definitely helped prevent a lot of disasters.”

“May I try?”

“Be my guest.”

I perused the shelves until I found the cube I was looking for. “Be ready to put this in,” I said, handing it to Sean.

He gave me a dubious look. “What are you doing?”

“You'll see.” I leaned against the chamber and pressed into it. Soon, I felt the solidity of the wall begin to give way and I stepped into the center.

“How did you know it could do that?” Sean asked quietly, peering into the chamber without touching it.

“A hunch,” I said, shrugging. “Now put that cube in.”

“All right,” he said, still sounding skeptical.

As he pressed the cube in, I spoke a few words, weaving the element in myself. It shot forward and suddenly I felt tiny dots of searing pain on my face. I heard Sean cry out and then a vigorous tapping as he recalled the element. The pain stopped and I pressed myself out of the chamber. “Did it work,” I asked, turning my face up to him. “Are my freckles gone?”

“Yes, it worked, Foofri,” he replied. “But your freckles are not gone anymore. Nothing that happens within the chamber is permanent, remember?”

“That's all right, I'll just do it again outside the chamber.” I reached for the cube, but he held it away.

“Don't you dare,” he said.

“I hate these,” I said, pointing to my cheeks. “I've always hated them. Do you know how rare that element is? I'll never have another chance!”

“Foofri, that isn't why I showed you this!” He held the cube above his head. “Besides, I happen to be very partial to your freckles.”

“Oh, please,” I said, still reaching, “no one likes freckles.” Sean looked up at the cube and whispered something. I made a final lunge, but it was too late, the tiny compartment shattered and the element inside evaporated immediately.

As the remnants of the cube fell to the floor, we stood quietly just looking at each other. The sound of woodland crickets came in through the open window, but I could still hear Sean swallow. I suddenly realized how close we were standing.

“I'm sorry,” Sean said finally, looking down at me.

“No, you're not.”

“No, I'm not,” he admitted, lifting his hand to my face. “But I would have been very sorry to see these go.” He lightly traced a haphazard pattern over my cheekbone with his forefinger. “Especially this one.”

“One?”

“Yes, there's one right here, all by itself.” He cupped my chin in his hand and gently rubbed his thumb just above my mouth. “I've wondered for a while what it would be like to...” His words trailed off as he slowly lowered his head to mine. I could almost feel the pressure of his lips when he suddenly dropped his hand and turned away.

“What?” I asked. “What's wrong?”

He went to the window and looked out, shaking his head. “For three days, I was so good,” he began. “I stayed away from you and kept myself occupied. Then you appear, like magic, and within minutes I can't think about anything else.”

Moving to stand behind him, I reached out and touched his back softly. “I wondered why you would flirt with me all the way from the Realm and then drop me flat once we arrived here.”

“I told you that wasn't flirting,” he said, still not turning.

“Then what do you call it?”

“I call it...getting very distracted.”

“From what? I thought you were supposed to escort me out here.”

Shaking his head again, he spoke slowly. “I didn't go back to the Realm to fall in love, Foofri.”

I thought for a minute before replying. “You went to find your stepbrother Ben.”

He turned around and looked down at me. “That's right, and I need to get back and keep looking, not to mention finish this business with the Stones.”

“There's nothing wrong with a little romance along way, though, is there?” I reached up to placed both hands on his chest, but he took them by the wrists.

“I also promised your father I had no intentions towards you,” he said.

“Not exactly,” I argued. “If I remember correctly, when he asked if you had intentions, you neatly side-stepped the question by saying that wasn't why you came back to the Realm. You never actually said anything specifically about me.”

“I keep forgetting you were eavesdropping,” he said with a scolding tone. “It doesn't matter, though, I clearly implied that I had no intentions towards you and I won't betray his trust.”

I pulled my hands away and stepped back. “No? What about riding double all the way through the Pass?”

His face turned hard. I could tell he was angry with himself. “That won't happen again.”

I turned away from him, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in my stomach.

“I should take you home,” he said. “Marilea is probably sick with worry.” He laid a hand on my shoulder and spoke the words to the spell. In a moment we stood outside the door to his father's home.

Marilea was sick with worry. In my haste to see Sean, I hadn't told anyone where I was going and she'd been all over town, looking for me. Now she made me stand in front of the fire to warm myself (even though I was perfectly warm) and went to dish me up a plate of dinner. Sean and Seamus talked quietly on the sofa while I absently browsed the pictures over the mantle.

I didn't realize what I was looking at until Marilea came in with a tray. I was so focused on one of the pictures, I didn't hear her come in and she had to nudge me gently to get my attention. I shrugged her hand away and pointed to the image. “What is this doing here?” I asked.

It was a picture of Jamin Winterfast. His arm was around Marliea and his mouth was turned up in a handsome smile.

The room went quiet. Marilea's face turned sad. “That's my Benjamin,” she said softly.

“Benjamin?” I repeated, my whole body going cold at the realization. “BENJAMIN?” I looked at Sean. “Jamin Winterfast is your step-brother?”

Seamus jumped up from the sofa before Sean could do anything. “We don't use that name in this house,” he said harshly.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Sean demanded.

Marilea drew herself up. “Phillip Winterfast is Benjamin's father,” she said. The cretin who had left her before Jamin was even born, but that wasn't the point.

“Does that mean he's the grandson of Cassius Winterfast?” I asked.

Seamus narrowed his eyes at me. “Yes, why?”

I retrieved the society pages you sent me and showed them to Sean. “Look.”

He snatched the pages and eagerly read the parts I had pointed out. When he finished, he looked up at his father with an accusing expression. “You knew,” he said. He kept his voice calm, but I could tell he was seething inside. “And you knew I went looking for him so why didn't you tell me?” When his father turned away, he lost his control. “Why?” he shouted.

Seamus spun back around. “I didn't want you to find him! I didn't want you getting involved with the Stones!”

“The Suldan Stones?” Sean demanded angrily. “What do they have to do with this?”

Marilea cast an anxious glance between father and son. She laid a hand against Seamus's cheek and looked up into his eyes. Then she left the room without saying anything. The silence was so uncomfortable, I wanted to follow her, but I knew I needed to hear whatever came next, as painful and awkward as it might be. I quickly sat in the nearest chair while Seamus paced in front of the fireplace.

“One of the things Marilea and I had in common when we met was that we both were keeping secrets about parentage from our sons.” He stopped and looked at the picture on the mantle. “For Marilea, she didn't want to give the man who abandoned her the honor of acknowledging his name to his own son, even though he'd never know it. For me,” he paused and looked at Sean. “Well, it was your mother who had secrets she didn't want known and I agreed with her. But some secrets can't be kept forever.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “Sean, you already know your mother descended from a long line of magii, but you didn't know she was from the Demestheln line. The Sedgwick Demestheln line.”

“You mean the one who disappeared with the Stones all those years ago?” I asked, shocked.

Seamus nodded. “He took on a new identity and came to the Outskirts with the Stones. They were secretly passed down in the family with clear instructions of what they could do and, more importantly, that they should never be used, especially together. Above all, they were to be protected and never allowed to fall into the hands of someone who might wield them.”

“Which means they should have come to me,” Sean whispered.

“Except your mother didn't want you to bear that burden,” Seamus explained, “or the temptation. I kept them hidden under the floorboards of the house, thinking they'd stay there forever and eventually be forgotten.”

“What happened?” Sean asked.

“Ben found them,” Seamus replied, “I caught him in the act and he was unable to procure them for a certain grandfather who had long been obsessed with the Stones.”

“You mean Winterfast,” I stated.

“Yes, Winterfast was somehow able to trace Sedgwick Demestheln to the Outskirts and sent one of his lackeys, Lieutenant Gavin Farnswall, to investigate. Marilea said he always knew he had a grandson in the Outskirts, but apparently he didn't care until he and Farnswall traced the Demestheln line to this very house. According to some letters I found in Ben's things, certain promises of parental acknowledgement and wealth were made to Ben. The letters also mentioned the Stones and how much old Winterfast wanted them. Ben was to discover their whereabouts and take them to the Realm. He didn't know what they were, only that they were his means of escaping the Outskirts. When I thwarted his plans, he left with Farnswall and joined Fort Thunderhall.”

“That doesn't explain how the Stones were returned, though,” Sean said.

“I knew Ben would be back for the Stones sometime and that I had to get rid of them permanently.”

Realization dawned on Sean. “So you sent them back to the Realm, hiring soldiers from the Fort to carry them through the Pass. That was the mysterious package that Ben stole and I took the blame for!”

Seamus smiled sadly. “That was the decoy package, for Ben's sake. I had to make sure he thought they weren't here.”

“But they're not here!”

“No, instead I asked a very reliable source to return them to the Demestheln vaults in Imperial City. I also asked that source to keep an eye on you, should he ever cross your path.”

“Alain Montphish, Foofri's father,” Sean said, wryly. “He's known about this all along.”

“He knew about the Stones, yes,” Seamus answered, “but I didn't think he needed to know about Ben or Winterfast or,” he paused again, “that I'd been communicating with Master Blivius of the Imperial Magii Council about destroying the Stones for good. Blivius knows more about the Stones than anyone else and knows how dangerous they are. They're to be kept in the Demestheln vaults until Blivius discovers a way to eliminate them.”

Sean stood up, his eyes hard. “Blivius is dead.”

“What?” Seamus gasped.

“He was found murdered days ago,” Sean answered. “Winterfast must have found out he was going to end the Stones and ended him first.”

Seamus cursed, clenching his jaw. “And the Stones?”

“As far as I know, they're still in the vault,” Sean said.

I thought about everything that had happened and decided I should probably go ahead and impart what I knew, come what may. I cleared my throat loudly and they both turned to me with questioning eyes. “Actually, Winterfast sort of talked Cordy into stealing the Stones from her own vault. I think he may have tricked her into thinking it was a reasonable idea.”

“She's staying with Winterfast right now,” Sean explained to his father. “They're neighbors and she's...oh, nevermind!” he yelled at his father. “All of this might have been prevented if you had simply been forthcoming about the Stones! And about Ben! And about my mother!”

“I didn't know any of this would happen! I was only trying to honor your mother's wishes, you can't blame me for that!”

Sean glared. “I have to leave now. I need to get back to the Realm as fast as possible to prevent whatever Winterfast is planning. Before I go, you should at least tell me what the Stones do that makes them so dangerous.”

His father hesitated, considering.

“Father, please!”

“They connect to your mind,” Seamus blurted. “And they can destroy it!”

“Go on.”

“There are five Stones, one to accompany each of the five senses. The most powerful Stone is the Sight Stone, which, when you hold it in your hand it allows you to see whatever you're thinking about in real time, be it person, place or thing. The next most powerful is the Sound Stone which allows you to hear, and so on with the Stones of Scent, Taste, and Touch. There isn't a happening in the world that wouldn't be completely open to someone who possessed the Stones. No conversation would be private, no strategic meeting would be secret, do you understand? They're the ultimate weapon of knowledge.

“Unfortunately, the Stones are so powerful, when they connect to your mind, they begin to devour it. Without even realizing it, the user eventually goes mad, particularly if using more than one Stone at a time. That's why Sedgwick Demestheln vanished with them all those years ago. He knew he had to prevent them from ever being used.”

Again Sean pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. It was too much information to take in all at once. “I understand why you thought it would be best not to tell me,” Sean said, his voice forgiving, “but I still have to go.”

“Yes,” Seamus answered, resigned. “You'd better hurry.”

“Wait,” I said to Sean, “shouldn't I come with you? I'm involved with this, too.”

He took me by the shoulders and looked me square in the eyes. “Foofri, I really need you to stay here where you are safe and where you won't distract me. I know Cordy is your family, but she's mine, too, and I'm not going to let Ben or Winterfast or anyone else hurt her.”

I slumped in defeat, knowing he was right. I knew you and Father would feel better, too, if I was safely out of the way as well. So I gave in. Sean said goodbye to his father and asked me to walk him out.

“Would you mind terribly if I stayed at your house while you're gone?” I asked him. “I appreciate what your father and especially Marilea have done for me, but I need some time to myself right now.”

He looked skeptical.

“What?” I asked. “Ashamed of your untidy bachelor ways?”

He almost smiled as he recalled our earlier conversation. “I'm just worried that you'll spend all your time in my lab trying to get rid of your freckles.”

“Do you honestly think I would spend time on something so frivolous when so much is at stake?” I said, knowing he'd see my hedging for what it was. “Oh, fine. I do want to spend time in your lab, but I promise I won't touch a single freckle. I only want to further my education, there's nothing wrong with that, right?” I could see the idea appealed to the teacher side of him.

“You promise you won't do anything foolish?” he demanded.

“Truly, I won't,” I said, raising my right hand. “And I'll keep everything neat and tidy.”

He hissed through his teeth. “It's very difficult to say no to you right now, Foofri.”

“Good. After all, I'm the one who has to stay here and wait and wait for someone to write to me that everything is fine.”

“All right, go get your things and tell Marilea.”

When I came back, he transported us to his house and raced up the stairs to his bedroom. “Come on up while I pack,” he called. “I can tell you how things work around here.”

While he shoved things into a bag, he gave me the passwords for entering and leaving the house (only after making me promise I would never go out at night again!) and briefly explained a few other quirks about the house. We went back down to the main room once he finished.

“I want to say 'Be careful' but I know I don't have to,” I said, my chest aching as he got ready to leave.

“Of course I'll be careful,” he replied, his gaze intense. “Don't worry about me. And don't worry about Cordy. Between Ardaya, your father, and myself, she's going to be okay. We'll get this whole Stones mess sorted out once and for all.”

“All right,” I whispered. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” Then he leaned over and placed a kiss so light I could barely feel it on my trembling lips. When he finished, I turned to leave the room, not trusting myself to hold back the tears, but before I could reach the stairs, he suddenly appeared in my path, causing a collision.

“I should have known,” he said hoarsely.

“What?”

“That if I finally kissed you, one wouldn’t be nearly enough.” Without hesitation, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me quite thoroughly this time, his lips lingering much longer than perhaps they should have. Finally, he murmured something against my mouth and just as I realized what he was doing, he disappeared, leaving me clutching at empty air. This time I made it all the way to his room without interruption and promptly threw myself across the bed for a good long cry.

Which wasn't the best position to be in when Muse showed up with your letter. Oh, the teasing I had to endure before I could get in a single word! I wanted to read the letter in haste and send off a response so you would know everything I'd discovered as soon as possible.

And now you do.

If only I had found out what the Stones do before you experimented with them, dearest! When I think about what might have happened to you! And here I thought that Winterfast had unwittingly given you the idea to take the Stones when all along he was plotting to get them for himself. I wonder, does he know as much as Damorin seems to know about them? And was he really the one who killed Blivius or had him killed?

I was so relieved to find out you'd already separated yourself from him! I wonder if Jamin knows about what's going on and how much of his attention to you is genuine. I wonder what happened when he showed up with a decoy package! I suppose Winterfast couldn't exactly turn his own grandson away, especially if he didn't know anything about the Stones.

Of course Sean will tell my father and Damorin everything once he reaches the Realm, but since Damorin already knows about our correspondence, there's no reason not to tell him immediately upon receiving this missive. He certainly is protective of you and doesn't seem to care one bit about the power of the Stones.

Also, I doubt he cares one bit about the princess either. What a nasty cat she is, stooping to childish outbursts and threatening you behind closed doors. As if you didn't have enough problems. You'd think she and Winterfast were in league or something, trying to get you out of the picture. Can you just see them plotting together? Ha, what a laugh! I'd like to turn him into the scratchiest of woolens and force her to wear them on the hottest day of the year!

As for Sean Valerian, I'm even more confused now than I was before. On one hand, I think I know how he feels about me, but on the other hand I'm not sure what he's going to do about it. On one hand, he seems very adamant about staying away from me, but on the other hand (you're right, four hands would be marvelous!) it doesn't seem to take much to overcome his self-control. I just hope he stays safe and that you all are quickly able to clear up this mess with the Stones. Also, congratulations on finding another Demestheln to share the family scandal with! How does it feel?

With all my love,
Your Foofri

P.S. I am enclosing the first few chapters of my memoirs. This is hardly the time for it, I know, but I did have a few days of free time when I first got here so I scribbled out a series of dramatic narratives about my adventures. Would you mind dropping them off at Mme. Dorthwany’s for me? Thank you, dearest!