Dear Cordy,
What a relief to write, knowing you’re finally safe and well. (You are safe and well aren’t you? I’m not just sniffing Trollblossoms and thinking everything’s fine when it really isn’t?) Not that getting to the state of safe and well has been easy. No, not for any of us, but allow me to tell my side of the story which will probably shed some light.
I told you I was doing some experimenting in Sean’s laboratory, which was quite a lot of fun to begin with. The first thing I did was to make myself a thought charm. Haven’t you always wanted one? Not terribly ethical, I know, but there are times when it would really be helpful to read other people’s minds. And I didn’t make it to actually use it, I just wanted to see if I could (although there are a few people we could sort of experiment on when I get home--for scientific purposes, of course).
After that, I got settled down to the task of summoning a wraith. All I had to do was consult the old spellbook of Sean's, insert the proper element cubes from his storehouse of goodies into the experiment chamber, and invoke the spell. A twist here and a tweak there and all of a sudden two glowing eyes looked straight at me through the chamber parameters.
With its eyes boring into mine, the gravity of what I had just done hit me full force. I had summoned a wraith. I had willfully and knowingly summoned a wraith! My past two terrifying experiences rose up not unlike wraiths themselves and threatened to smother me in a blanket of nightmarish memory. I froze to the spot, unable to do anything but gape.
The experiment chamber, on the other hand, remained calm and rational and reacted in precisely the way it had been programmed. It shut down. The wraith disappeared in a blink of light, leaving the chamber and my hopes in the same state, empty.
“There you are,” an annoying voice called out from behind me, “Pining away in loverboy’s lab, are we? How very touching.” Muse looked at the now dormant chamber, deducing what had just happened. “Well well, when the cat’s away… are you going to get it when he finds out! Not to mention your school masters at that lovely institution of higher learning,” he snickered. “You and your cousin are just two peas in a pod, aren’t you, invoking powers you know nothing about, but whoops, no Damorin Ardaya here to bail you out, is there?”
“How did you know about that?” I demanded. “Oh! You have been reading our letters all along!”
He gave me a nasty grin. “I thought I deserved some sort of payment when I started playing messenger boy. It isn’t in my original job description, you know.”
“Well, there isn’t much else for you to do! Your full capabilities are far beyond my needs right now.”
“Yes, taking on wraiths is the simplest of spells. Even a mere child can do it.”
“Oh, shut up!” I snapped, “Nothing happened, all right? And shouldn’t you be helping me instead of scolding? I was rather hoping…ooooh….” He waved familiar stationary in front of my eyes and the failed experiment was forgotten as I lunged for your letter.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he said as he held it out of reach.
I dropped my arms and sighed. “What now?”
“You know what. And it’ll be worth it…there are some very interesting newsy tid-bits in here about a certain Master of the Realm.” He waved the envelope tantalizingly close.
“All right,” I agreed desperately, ignoring his teasing. “You can teach me some spells when I’m done.”
“Five. Five spells.”
“All right! Five spells!”
“Five good ones,” he specified (in other words, five complex and boring spells that would take a long, long time to master).
“Ugh, yes! Just give me the letter,” I grunted as he held it up higher. “Please!”
“It would be my great honor and pleasure, milady.” He handed me the precious item and managed to keep most of the sarcasm from his voice.
Oh, my dearest! What a range of emotions I had while reading your letter! First to hear that you weren't coming out here after all because you'd been incarcerated! Then about Winterfast and his dirty rat of a grandson and then Ameliorene's unbelievable visit to your cell and then about Damorin and your confession of love! I went from fear to violence to disbelief to swooning in less than five minutes!
Most of all, I just felt horrible for being so helpless and removed from the actual happenings. I firmly resolved to somehow be of use to someone, somewhere in this adventure! I turned to Muse only to find him fast asleep, floating in mid-air. He looked so tired and haggard, I suddenly realized how hard we'd worked him and then I couldn’t help feeling guilty for all those times we called him wretched in our letters, especially knowing that he'd read them.
Although, blast the wretched, wretched creature, I needed help. I didn’t know if I could face what I intended to do alone. I may as well tell you what I planned. Do you remember when Sean first showed me the element cubes and I tried to get rid of my freckles? While I did it purely out of vanity, I noticed some interesting results when I created the elimination formula and I wanted to see what would happen if I altered the experiment a little bit involving wraiths. In short, I wanted to see if I could eliminate one permanently. I know, it sounds ridiculous, but if my experiment worked it would take care of the problem of mere banishment. The wraiths would never be summoned against us (or anyone else for that matter) ever again! After two encounters where they tried to kill me and steal my magic through terrifying and painful ways, I felt the prospect worthy of exploration, worthy even of great risk!
My problem, though, was that the chamber wouldn’t allow wraiths, so I had no danger-free experiment zone to try out my ideas before actually doing them. In addition to that, I was, quite frankly, frightened out of my wits to even try. Plus, the only being who might be able to help me was fast asleep at the moment.
I sat and contemplated. Or perhaps I just sat, I can’t really remember, but regardless, the conclusion I came to was this: I was tired of not doing anything. I don’t mean that I was tired of being in the Outskirts sitting on my hind quarters waiting to be allowed back into Realm society. I mean I was tired of being a nobody who lived in the shadows of both her beautiful and talented mother and her beautiful and talented cousin (well, it’s true). I was tired of being the person no one took notice of except as they bumped into her in the halls of the Academy or as she turned one’s millinery creation into ashes.
I wanted to do something significant. Not for notoriety, but for myself, so that when I went about my life going largely unnoticed I could reflect and say, “I took a risk, I did something for someone else, I sacrificed for the good of the world, I am a worthwhile person!” I wanted to prove to myself that I could do something. And if I wanted to do something, I had to face my fears. Which meant going ahead with my experiment--safety chamber or not.
Pulling the cubes from the experimental chamber, I set up the spell with great resolve and waited. And waited. And waited. I looked over at Muse, suspecting interference but he was still snoring loudly. I tried again. And again.
I had just about given up when the air in front of me began to shimmer and slowly, slowly, a pair of eyes, yellow and glowing, appeared within a misty form.
“What took you so long?” I demanded, my impatience driving the fear from my mind.
The wraith responded by shape-shifting into another Foofri, a mirror image of myself, freckle for freckle. It stared back at me with that expression my father finds particularly annoying and began to speak. “As a matter of fact, I was on another assignment, thankyouverymuch.”
I sort of wanted to slap it, but this was no time for self-introspection. “Oh, excuse me,” I said, “but I was under the impression that when a summons was made, a wraith hastens to obey.”
“I’m not surprised,” the Foofwraith replied haughtily, “That’s just the sort of idea you humans would come up with. That's why you're not worthy of your own magic. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a little appointment with a friend of yours in the Pass.”
“I have you under summons, you can’t just leave!”
“Watch me.”
“Wait!” I interrupted, desperate for information, “Who are you going to meet and why?”
“I’m not going to meet anyone. We’ve made an arrangement that’s going to feed us for a long time. Goodbye.” It disappeared, tripping over the hem of its dress on the way. Cheeky. I think it did that on purpose just to insult me. It worked, but I digress.
Was I ever panicked! I had no idea what the wraith meant except that you might be in a lot of danger, Troll guardians or not! “Muse!” I practically screamed. “Muse, wake up!”
“It’s not in my original job description,” he mumbled through an especially loud snore.
“Oh, yes it is!” I shouted, taking the liberty to reach out and shake him into consciousness.
“It’s pearl one, knit two, you idiot! Oh…OH!” He sat up and sneered at me. “What? What’s got your winged r’uc on a spit?”
“Wraiths,” I choked out. “Real wraiths. In the Pass. Cordy. We have to go NOW!”
The effect this had on Muse was startling. His usually indolent posture turned nervous as he began to fidget in earnest. “Wraiths,” he mumbled, his eyes wide, his forehead beading with sweat. “Wraiths in the Pass...” His mumbling faded as he wrung his hands and bobbed unsteadily. Suddenly he gave me a piercing stare. “Isn’t Lord Shimmerrobes there protecting her?”
“Right now? I don’t know, but-”
“And what can you do that he can’t?”
“I don’t know, but-”
“And just what are you planning to do if we go there?”
“I don’t know, but…” he didn’t interrupt me this time and there was a pause. “But I have to try and besides…I have you, don’t I?” I gave him the biggest, sweetest cow eyes I could muster.
“True,” he said, nodding his head reluctantly. “But there are things about the Pass you don't know.”
“What is it about you and the Pass? What aren't you telling me?”
But he only shook his head.
“Look,” I said. “If we don't go there now, Cordy could die. If she dies, I will die, too (figuratively, of course, but I didn't feel the need to share that with him). And if I die, your bond with me will be broken and you will go back into,” I paused, searching for just the right term, “you'll go back into the Permanent State of Not Teaching Any Spells Ever Again-ness for forever for eternity for infinity!”
His head snapped up and he looked at me with real fear in his eyes.
“That's right,” I said. “So you better gird up your loins and get over whatever it is that troubles you about the Pass and take me there right now!
He nodded his head slowly and said, “I can’t fight your battles for you. I can only advise and instruct.”
“That's all I'm asking. Let’s go!”
Darkness filled the sky when we arrived at the Pass. The thin moon struggled to send a few meager rays through the thick clouds. Muse levitated both of us quickly through the terrain until we spied what looked like a wraith huddled over a battered and broken figure. To my surprise, though, as we edged closer, I could see not one wraith, but roughly a dozen. A few of them gripped the figure on the ground while the rest argued.
I hissed to Muse, “Quick, make me invisible! I have to know what's going on!”
“Ha. Not in that dress you don't,” he said, pointing to my long hem. “You'll trip and land right in the middle of them and get yourself killed before you can even be useful.”
He just had to prey on my insecurities! “Oh fine,” I spat, “you go invisible and go and see what’s going on. And hurry!”
He disappeared before I finished talking so I only assume he did as I asked. I was so involved watching the wraiths and wringing my hands that I jumped when he reappeared at my side. “Hoo hoo, you’ve got yourselves into a pretty little mess this time. Your magi cousin is being kept somewhere in a labyrinth of caves. The entrance is there,” he pointed with his long, bony finger. “The troll sentry, that’s him on the ground. They’ve already killed him and now they just need a volunteer to go in and lure Cordy out.”
“Lure her out?” I demanded.
“Wraiths hate being underground,” he said slowly, relectantly. “Earth on all sides, you see. They won’t go under unless they absolutely have to. And they’re arguing about who’s going to go in and bring her out.”
“We have to do something!” I whispered hoarsely
“Look!”
We both turned and peered over the rock. The arguing had stopped and all eyes were on one wraith who had stepped apart from the group. I stared in horror as it transformed slowly into a perfect Foofri and stepped into the cave entrance. It must have been the same wraith I had summoned in Sean’s classroom. “They’re using me as bait!”
Muse nodded. “I’m sure she’ll follow it right out.”
“Of course she will! And then what will we do?”
“What can you do? Your magic won’t work properly, will it?” Again, he spoke reluctantly.
“Look, Muse. You said there are things I don't know about the Pass, but you obviously do, and they bother you immensely. You have to tell me!”
“It's nothing,” he said pleadingly and it was the first time I’ve seen him so humble. “It’s nothing.”
“Remember what I said about dying and infinity and all that?”
“Yes! Yes! But there’s nothing you can do, except maybe distract them for a little while somehow.”
“That’s IT?” I screamed, in my loudest whisper. “You, the under-appreciated, under-used great sorcerer’s muse. Keeper of hundreds of ancient spells, that’s all you have to offer me? ‘Distract them for a little while somehow?’”
He looked hurt, pained, as though he were carrying a great load. “I’m sorry, but yes.”
“All right,” I answered, more angry than I’ve been in a long time. “I don’t need you anyway. I have a terrific little spell that will eliminate the wraiths for good. At least, I will when I get it figured out. IF I ever get it figured out, you useless blob of...magical...detritus!”
He ignored the insult and grabbed by sleeve. “What makes you think you can possibly eliminate them?”
“An accident, actually, and I don’t know if my spell will work, but I have to try.”
“It won’t work! Human magic doesn’t work here anymore, how many times must I explain that?” He spoke to everyone and no one in particular, as though he had been saying it for a long time.
“What do you mean anymore? Sweetie, if there's a time to finally let me in on whatever little secret you're keeping, this is it!”
He scrunched up his face and pulled on his beard. “Argh! All right! You may as well know!” He continued ripping at his beard until little tufts of it began coming out. “I…I helped to create the wraiths!”
“Muse!”
“They're made of a combination of earth and element extracted here in the Pass and also,” he paused before he spat out, “also human magic.”
“But that means-”
“It was my master at the time,” he quickly interrupted. “He was low on skill but very high on vindictiveness and cruelty. He wanted a creature to do his bidding, something truly terrifying that would drain not only the life, but also the magic from his chosen subjects. When I turned out not to be that kind of creature, he tricked me into creating the wraiths to do it instead.
“He brought me here,” he waved his arm around. “Then he had me teach him to siphon specific elements and compounds from the ground to shape and form into beings. I wondered what he could possibly do with lumps of element until he began adding his magic to them. Not a spell, mind you, but his actual magic. He intended to pour as much of it as he could into his slaves, while still maintaining enough to absorb the magic his new servants would extract from his victims. The end result was two-fold. First, the wraiths were created; twelve, magic-hungry, insatiable wraiths. Second, the elements he siphoned from the Pass were living elements, parts of the land that should not be trifled with. And because he used his magic to do it, from then on the Pass reacted violently whenever human magic was used.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The earth is searching for itself, Magi,” he said, gravely. “It’s trying to undo the great wrong and become whole again. That’s why the wraiths don’t like going into caves or under ground. They can feel the earth pulling at them, trying to reclaim life-force.”
“But Muse,” I argued, “can’t you help it along? Can’t you undo it?
“I could,” he said soflty, “but, Magi, I need human magic to do it. I don’t interact with humans very often, in fact, until you summoned me with your mirror experiment, it had been nearly five hundred years.” No wonder he’s so crabby all the time.
“What about me?” I asked, “Can’t you use mine?”
His expression turned back into the nasty grimace I knew so well. “Yes, but there’s one detail you might not find very attractive.”
“Don’t tell me, I have to kiss you? Give up my first born child? Prick my ear lobe on a bun-snigger lancet on my twentieth birthday?”
“Something infinitely more simple,” he sneered. “My former master didn't live through creating the wraiths and you probably wouldn't live through destroying them.”
This revelation wasn’t too terrifying. I had already decided I was willing to sacrifice my own safety for the greater good. The jump to sacrificing my life from sacrificing mere safety was not a very big one.
I did have a few thoughts though. First, in the face of dying, my life flashed before my eyes. It was very dull; no loss there. Second, I thought of Father and all he had sacrificed for me so I could live to my full potential. Well, here was my chance. I thought of Sean and that we'd never have our moment of heartfelt confessions. You would tell him, surely. I thought of you and your love for Damorin and the wonderful life you had ahead of you, a life you deserved to live. What I’m saying is, my choice was a very easy one.
“I’ll do it, Muse,” I said. “I want to do it.”
He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, weighing my conviction. “All right. You go distract the wraiths while I prepare.”
“What? How should I do that?”
“I don't care! We're in a hurry, remember? Think of your cousin!” He closed his eyes and began some deep meditation (at least that’s what it looked like, he could have been experiencing indigestion).
I crept down to the caves just in time to see the Foofri wraith shoot out of the entrance followed closely by you. As soon as you stepped from the shelter of the caves, the wraiths surrounded you.
Your face was amazingly calm and I would love to know what was going through your head. “Where is she?” you asked (as you well know) in that cold unrelenting voice of yours. I started to shout, but Muse stopped my mouth.
“Not yet,” he whispered urgently, taking a momentary break from his trance to warn me. “We don’t want them to know we’re here.” I bit my tongue until it bled and continued watching.
“Where is she?” you repeated. The Foofri wraith stepped into the circle with an evil laugh and revealed itself for what it was.
“Dead,” it said, lying. “I chose her form after we killed her, although it was difficult choosing between her and Master Ardaya, they both looked so peaceful in death.” They began to edge closer. “I doubt you will appear the same.” Taking advantage of your shock, they closed around you, grasping and clutching. I could stand by no longer.
“STOP!” I shrieked, running into the open. The wraiths turned from their task to see what the disturbance was and I don’t know if you were unconscious from the shock or from their touch, but as they paused, you crumpled forward in a heap. A thin blue outline seemed to grow from the top of your head and trickle its way down to your toes.
“A shield!” the former Foofri wraith exclaimed, furious. “Someone is projecting a shield remotely!” They all turned back to me and stared. “Get her,” one of them said.
“Now wait just a moment!” I exclaimed, my mind searching desperately for something to distract them with. “Why do you wraith creatures have to be so mean all the time, going around and sucking the life out of people? What kind of existence is that? That doesn’t help anyone! It doesn’t contribute to society and it’s hardly original. I can name half a dozen creatures that suck the life out of people--and that’s just off the top of my head--and do you think any of them are happy? Well, they’re not! They’re miserable! Is that what you want? To be miserable?”
“You there!” I continued, pointing to the wraith closest to me, “Have you ever had a job? Have you ever had a girlfriend?” It looked around, confused. “Don’t you want to fall in love and get married and have children and take yearly vacations in...um...sunny...er...” I trailed off as my mind scrambled to come up with a prime real estate spot, but by this time, all the wraiths were looking at me with odd expressions even for them. I hoped Muse was almost ready because my pathetic distraction ploy was really, really not working. As I searched for something else to say, the wraiths gathered around me, closer and closer.
“Perhaps Winterfast will accept a substitute,” one said and I screamed out in pain as he grabbed me by the arm. “When we finish this one,” another said, “the shield of the other will be penetrable and we’ll have both of them for feasting. And perhaps now,” it said, placing both burning hands around my neck, “we can settle an old score.” The pain of his touch was excruciating. I realized then that I was going to die and the sheer wastefulness of it irritated me - that I was sacrificing myself without benefit to anyone, least of all myself. The thought gave me enough strength to cast one final spell, with or without Muse.
Opening my mind to the physical connection between myself and the creature assaulting me, I called upon the elements that formed him until I could feel them responding. Had I not been in such dire straights, the experience would have been fascinating. The wraith’s physical composition was extremely volatile. Particles bounced over and around each other as freely as water eddying in a river. No wonder they could shape shift so easily! Fortunately, this also made the structure easy to manipulate. I waited until I had a firm grasp on each element, then, as much as I was able, I whispered the incantation I wanted to try in Sean's chamber. The hands on my neck tightened, but it was too late, the spell had been cast.
I could feel the threads of the spell stretching and twisting, struggling to take form and suddenly, the ground beneath me rumbled and heaved in alarm. The wraith fell back violently, but my neck still burned and then a new sensation grew from somewhere inside me. I was being torn apart.
If I had to choose between being torn apart and being strangled by a wraith so it could suck the life out of me, I would definitely go with the wraith. I could at least think when he was touching me, I still had some semblance of identity and being. With the magic tearing me apart, I lost all consciousness of self.
And then I gained it back, all in a rush. Muse screamed in my ear, “Keep the spell stable, I’m trying to channel your magic!”
The relief was immense as he funneled my magic into his own body and poured it into the Pass, feeding the ground its long lost pieces. The wraiths flickered and writhed as their existence melted away. One of them burst into a shower of glowing droplets which seeped into the earth. The ground grew more and more steady with each exploding wraith and began to glow with a soft light. The light multiplied and spread until the whole area crackled with energy. “It’s working, Muse!” I shouted, “It’s working!”
But he wasn’t listening. While I had been watching the phenomenon of the Pass reclaiming its own, Muse had supported the bulk of the power of the transformation within his own body. He trembled with the strength of it, his hair and beard turning white, his face tight and red.
“Muse!” I cried. “Stop! The earth has enough power to finish.” It was true, while everything looked basically the same as before, the feeling in the air was completely different. The tension was gone. The sensation of suppression was gone. Everything was alive and vibrant.
“Muse,” I said again. “Muse?” He lay on the ground now with his eyes shut tightly. His breathing was unsteady. I knelt down by his side and lifted his head onto my lap. “Muse, you did it. You righted your wrong.”
His eyelids flickered open for a moment. “They’re all gone then?” he gasped.
“Yes, they’re all gone. Never to return.”
He smiled faintly. “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.”
“Just so.” I pulled off his cap and stroked his snowy hair.
“Good-bye, Foofri,” he said, using all his strength to look up at me. “It’s been an honor.”
“Silly,” I said, tears springing from my eyes, “You’re not going anywhere.”
“You’re very kind…always have been, even though you called me wretched.” He winced as a spasm of pain shot through him. “You meant it as an endearment, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did! But this talk is nonsense.” I reached down and took his hand in mine. “You don’t think you’re…I mean, you’re not going to die!”
His fingers barely moved against mine. “I gave everything that was in me to redeem myself. I have nothing left.”
“But your magic!” I sobbed.
“Gone.”
“No, no, I can feel it, Muse, it’s still there!”
“Yes, my dear.” He squeezed my hand gently, still laboring for breath. “It’s inside you now. Take care of it. Be a better steward than I was.” His energy was draining away quickly.
“No, Muse, wait!”
“Please,” he said, silencing my protests. “I'm so tired. Please, let me go.”
I pulled his little body into my arms and rocked him gently. “I will never forget you.” He smiled again, pleased, and became still.
“Magi Montphish.” A voice spoke from behind me.
I turned around to see Damorin Ardaya standing there with you in his arms. This was no time for mourning. You were still unconscious, still surrounded by pale light. “Master, thank goodness!” I said, wiping tears. “I can't explain everything that just happened, but you’ve got to help Cordy immediately!”
“I assure you, she’s perfectly fine and in perfect hibernation. If I can get her back to my lab, waking her is a simple process.” I was so relieved! I noticed then how weary his eyes were, how haggard his appearance, his posture. What had he just gone through? Where had he been?
“You shouldn’t have any problem transporting back to the Realm, Master,” I said. “Magic is functioning once again in the Shazar Pass.” Thanks to Muse, I added in my head.
He looked around, testing, feeling. “Yes, I see. Will you excuse me then? Unless you’d like to come along. When she awakens, I don’t think there’s a face she would welcome more than yours.” If he only knew, dearest.
“I thank you, but no, there’s something I need to do before I come home. Tell her I’ll see her soon.”
“I will,” he replied, turning to go.
“Oh, and Damorin?”
“Yes?” He turned back to me, slightly impatient.
“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for everything.”
He smiled wryly. “You’re welcome.”
After the two of you disappeared, I looked back down at Muse’s face. He was peaceful in death, the weight of hundreds of years of guilt washed away. As I wept with sorrow and relief over his still body, he grew lighter in my arms until he disappeared entirely. I stared down in amazement.
I had set out to do something great and he had gone and done it for me. I couldn’t grudge him that, it was his burden to bear. Besides, I did feel some measure of accomplishment knowing that I had helped in my own small way.
Dearest, please forgive me, but I’m not quite ready to come home yet. I can’t believe I’m saying that, but so much has happened and I need time to come to terms with it. You do understand, don’t you? I will come back as soon as I’m ready. I just need a little time.
Bless you, dearest, in all that you do. And please, please, write me soon.
Love,
Foofri
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Letter XXV (C.D. to F.M.)
My Dear Foofri,
I write those words and feel like crying. I would give, quite literally, anything to be speaking to your face instead of writing a letter you will almost certainly never receive. But I have always believed that when one is about to slip over the brink of insanity, it is one’s duty to do all in one’s power to prevent the tragedy. So I here I sit, scribbling out recent events, by hand (a dictation spell being, due to location, out of the question, and my present hosts not having much use for pens, much less magical ones). Not that I should be complaining. Unpleasant as recent events have been, had everything gone as scheduled, I would be worse than dead. Instead I sit warm and fed, in the care of a troll whose nature can only be described as motherly, even if her pens do leak and the writing paper smells suspiciously of fish.
As I recall, my last missive left off as I was about to escape from my house and bolt for Fort Thunderhall. But my plan was utterly overturned right at the beginning, and not by Damorin, who was the only person I had bothered to specifically plan against. I’d just shipped off the muse with my letter and Sean’s, which arrived in the nick of time, when a very determined pounding sounded on the front door.
I considered sneaking out the back, but if the person knocking was in any way connected with my overanxious guardian, a non-response would just set of all the alarms, so I stomped downstairs. Happily (so I thought), I’d put on my pajamas (the ones you gave me) while waiting for the men to depart, just in case I had to put in another appearance. After all, who could possibly suspect me of escaping when I was wearing flannel decorated with talking sheep? The robe I’d thrown on top didn’t do much to stifle their persistent voices.
On my front doorstep stood a full escort of guards. Not Justicum guards. Royal guards.
“Captain, what is the meaning of this?” I demanded of their leader.
“Yeeees,” seconded one of the sheep. “You’re interrupting our beauty sleeeeep.”
The captain looked taken aback, but his training came to the forefront. “Magi Cordelimaera Demestheln?”
“Yes.”
“Aaaaand company,” said the sheep.
“It is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest—”
“Not again!” I interrupted. “Will nothing satisfy that man? Isn’t being locked up in my own house good enough protective custody?”
“Booossy,” agreed the sheep.
The captain was beginning to look a little shifty eyed from trying not to look around too obviously for the voices. “As I was saying, Magi, it is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest for high treason against the Imperial Realm, namely, conspiracy to the attempted assassination of his Majesty, the Emperor. It is also my duty to remove you without delay to the Royal Residence to be tried immediately before the Imperial Tribunal.”
As you can imagine, I was somewhat taken aback by his words. I dealt with the most intelligible of them first. “In the first place, as a member of the Imperial Council, I have the right to be tried before the Board of Masters. And in the second place, are you crazy?” Not, perhaps, the most tactful thing to say to one’s arresting officer, but he had just accused me of trying to kill the emperor.
“Noooot guilty,” chorused the sheep.
“You shut up,” I told them, no longer amused by their antics, and they subsided into sulky silence.
“All accused of high treason are answerable to the Tribunal,” the captain said woodenly, although I did not remember reading any such thing in my Council handbook. Admittedly, I’d skimmed through the boring parts. More to the point, there were a lot of guards on my front porch, and although, making the best use of my security system, I might have been able to escape them, I didn’t think I could outrun an entire army all the way to the Shazar Pass.
“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding,” I said as brightly as I could, allowing them to snap on iron restraining bracelets that blocked my magic.
It was after midnight when we arrived at the Residence, and I was still trying to convince myself that it was all an outrageous mistake. Once everything was straightened out, abject apologies would be made, and I would be able to go back home. Maybe I would even have the pleasure of watching Damorin roll a few heads first. He was not going to be happy when he learned that I had been hauled out of protective custody.
The guards hustled me in through a back door I’d never seen before, and the passages they took all seemed to lead down. At last we arrived at a small audience chamber with two guards posted outside the door. The décor was very somber, but I didn’t spend much time analyzing the interior decorating. As soon as I got a look at the witness bench, my heart seemed to turn to stone.
Winterfast was resplendent in his Sixth Skillhouse regalia, and next to him perched his dirty lying rat of a grandson. Winterfast shook his head and looked sad when he met my gaze.
I’d been trying very hard to remain calm and rational up to that point, but when he rubbed his hypocrisy in my face, I lost my temper. “How could you?” I shouted, running forward. “Grandfather trusted you! I thought you were my friend! And you,” I practically spat, turning on Jamin, “pretending that you were falling in love with me! And all the time—”
That was when the guards got hold of me again, and I had just enough sense not to struggle.
The Imperial Tribunal is very small, consisting of the emperor and whoever else he chooses to appoint. In this case, he had appointed no one, although his private chief of security stood at hand to advise him. The empress was not there, but Ameliorene was, sitting next to her father and clinging to his hand.
The guards led me in front of the throne and pushed me to my knees.
“Magi Cordelimaera,” the emperor began in a very serious voice, “you are charged with willfully attempting to harm our person.”
“Your majesty, there has been a terrible mistake,” I pleaded. “These men,” I pointed at the witness bench, “are lying to you. They want the power of the Suldan Stones for themselves. That one isn’t even really Jamin Winterfast. His name is Benjamin Valerian, and he’s from the Outskirts.”
The lying rat flinched, and Winterfast had to speak quickly to cover it up. “Obviously, her use of the Stones has unsettled her mind. Please, don’t be too hard on the poor child.” If I hadn’t known better, I would have believed he really was concerned about me.
It was the security chief who asked the questions. “Magi Cordelimaera, do you deny that four days ago you removed the Suldan Stones from your vault?”
And I suddenly remembered that a tiny velvet bag hung around my neck. (The guards didn’t bother searching me. I suppose the sheep discouraged them.) “That is true,” I replied, hoping my sudden (new) attack of nerves didn’t show on my face.
“You removed the Stones without the knowledge or permission of the Masters?”
“Yes, but…”
“Please, Magi, just answer the question. You were then in the unsupervised possession of the Stones until approximately twenty hours after you had first removed them?”
“That is correct,” I said stiffly.
“Did you use the Stones while they were in your possession?”
“Yes,” I replied curtly. “And I later reported everything to the Board of Masters.”
My interrogator didn’t seem impressed. “Isn’t it true that you used the Stones to steal secret information about the protections surrounding the emperor to try and kill him?”
“No!” I burst out. “Why in Jalwa’s name would I want to kill the emperor?”
“We believe you are in the employ of certain factions in the Outskirts, who wish to regain power in the Realm by violent means.”
First I was an assassin. Now I was the leader of a rebellion? “Your majesty, please. This is insane!” I was begging now, really and truly frightened.
“We are sorry for you, child,” said the emperor. “But for the sake of our Realm, we must find you guilty.”
“Before you render the sentence, your majesty, I beg that you will remember her youth. She has made a mistake, and she may already be dying because of it.” I didn’t particularly want Winterfast begging on my behalf, but then, a part of me was glad anybody was asking for mercy.
“There is only one punishment for magical treason,” said the interrogator.
The emperor stood, still holding his daughter’s hand. “Magi Cordelimaera, you are hereby banished from the Realm and this world.”
People in sensational serials are forever getting banished, and it always seems to be accompanied by a clap of thunder. The words, as he spoke them, seemed overly familiar, and yet strange in their ordinariness. No clap of thunder for me.
They locked me in a windowless cell with thick walls, a thicker door and the warning that even the smallest attempt at magic would bring down a curse powerful enough to render banishment unnecessary. I sat and stared at the wall, not thinking or feeling, in a state of blessed numbness. It’s all a mistake, I kept thinking. Things will be all right in a moment. I knew I ought to be trying to figure out how to use the Stones as a bargaining chip, but all I could do was sit and stare. In retrospect, I’m rather ashamed of myself.
My reverie was interrupted by the sound of the locks being unfastened. Not already, I thought, starting to feel a flicker of panic. But it was Princess Ameliorene who entered the cell. “Leave us,” she demanded. “I wish to speak with she who would have murdered my father. She cannot hurt me know.” I guessed she carried a ward that would blow into the next world without help of banishment if I laid a little finger on her. The guards reluctantly retreated and shut the door.
Dramatic, I thought distantly, my gaze drifting back to the floor.
“Look at me.”
There was a tone in that command I had never heard before, coldly, emotionlessly imperious. My eyes swung up and I saw with an unpleasant shock that she was smiling. Not one of her practiced social smiles, or even one of gloating triumph, but an expression full of cruel calculation. At that moment I could hardly understand why I had ever thought her frivolous, and my mind broke loose from its numbed state and began to work furiously. I felt coolly detached but very alert, certain that the missing pieces of our mystery were at last about to fall into place.
“I have found,” Ameliorene said in the same even, frigid tone, “that my sense of vanity is not entirely assumed. The effort you have cost me will not be fully justified unless you know not only that you have lost, but who has defeated you.”
It was fascinating to discover that the criminal impulse to confession is not only a work of fiction. I examined her from beneath a raised eyebrow, then began to clap in deliberate mockery. “Bravo, Your Highness. May I congratulate you on this glorious conquest?”
Her nostrils flared but she maintained control of her voice. “Irritating to the last, in your own small way. Do you know, I almost wish you had presented more of a challenge. A formidable dragon to slay, rather than a pesky fly who survives by sheer luck.”
“Buzz, buzz,” I said, in the most bored tone I could muster. “Your assassination attempts really were very sloppy. A blind donkey could have escaped that chandelier.”
“Not mine,” she answered. “Winterfast’s. He was unexpectedly sentimental about you, and I had a hard time convincing him to do the job. His original plan was to adopt you, and thus control the Stones. Of course, I found that unacceptable.”
“Look,” I said, “is this about your tea gown that I ruined? Because frankly, it wasn’t that flattering.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what this is about.” She was definitely beginning to lose her temper. She wanted a broken prisoner. All she was getting was, in my own small way, a rude one.
“The Suldan Stones, yes, yes, I know.”
“No. Winterfast’s obsession with them was useful to draw him into my plan, but that is all.”
I gave a patient sigh, hiding my surprise. “What else could you possible gain by my removal?”
“An empire,” she told me.
I let the sarcasm ooze from my tone as I answered, “Oh of course, you want to take over the Realm. And it’s perfectly clear how getting rid of me means that you suddenly become empress. Although I suppose the next assassination on your father might not fail.”
She smiled, and I suddenly wondered whether she was quite sane. “You’re right. My father is a fool and easily dealt with, as easily as I dealt with Blivius.”
“That was you?” I asked, shocked out of my pretended indifference.
“Who else could have gotten close enough to that paranoid old fool to stick a knife in his back?” She sounded delighted with herself.
“I still don’t understand,” I said, regaining my psychological equilibrium. “You aren’t even in the succession. The emperor will choose an heir from among his male relatives.”
“Oh that’s right.” She looked at me in mock astonishment. “How could I not remember that I’ve been raised as a mere pawn, to be traded to some foreign king for the strongest treaty. How could the silly little princess be empress? Unless, of course, the emperor dies before he can choose an heir, and she had someone by her side that the Council trusted absolutely.”
“Damorin,” I breathed.
“Yes. They made him a Master before he was thirty. They will love making him emperor.” She laughed a little to herself.
“You’ll find you’re sadly mistaken, if you think you can manipulate the Master into being your puppet on the throne.”
“Puppet? Don’t be so naïve, child. Did you think this was only about power?” She leaned forward, as though sharing a great secret. “No woman who has ever been in his arms can view Damorin Ardaya as a puppet.”
And without warning my shield of emotional detachment disintegrated. I clenched my hands around the seat of my chair, trying to hold myself in place.
Ameliorene must have seen that she had at last gotten to me, and she continued talking in a soft, almost nostalgic tone of voice. “He understands, you see, that I’m not everything I appear to be. He was coming along so nicely until you came and made him feel sorry for you. Poor little orphaned magi. You’ve become quite the pet project. Your youthful corruption will be such a disappointment, but I will enjoy consoling him.”
“Get out!” I hissed, shaking with the effort of not diving for her mewling throat. “Get out before I bring the walls down around both of us.”
She was laughing again, triumphantly. “Goodbye, Cordelimaera. We won’t be meeting again.”
She exited and I somehow resisted the impulse to hurl the chair after her. Instead I paced furiously around the cell, feeling nastier by the second. So she was the one responsible for the theft, the lies, the brushes with death. She had taken it into her pretty head to run the empire, and I was the one who got to pick up the bill. All because pernicious fate had chosen assign me to Damorin Ardaya’s list of pet projects.
Where was he anyway? After all the fuss of the past few days, the guards, the warnings, the wards, the protective custody, he was conspicuously absent when the real trouble started. And Sean! Where was he when the Imperial guards were arresting me in my own home? Not to mention your father, the magnificent Underground spy, who decided that telling me nothing was the best way to keep me safe. Where had that landed me? Banished, that’s where!
“Curse and plague the Imperial Underground,” I growled, taking another furious turn, and stopping to glare at an inoffensive corner of the ceiling. “And let’s not forget the oh-so-solicitous Board of Masters who track your every move until you really need them.” I jabbed an accusing finger at the stone, “And then where are they?”
“Right here,” came the smooth reply.
I spun around so fast I lost my balance and fell against the wall. Less than five feet behind me stood Damorin. I had grown so used to identifying him by the shimmering blue robes that for a second I failed to recognize him, and then my anger dissolved into an illogical burst of happiness.
I started to speak his name but he stepped forward and placed a cautionary finger across my lips. “Not here,” he said quietly, and I nodded understanding. He dropped his hand only to pull me into the circle of his arms, and the whispered words of a transport spell immediately built around us.
My happiness evaporated as abruptly as it had come, superceded by icy terror. I thrust myself away, stumbling halfway across the cell. Tangled words spilled in a panic from my lips. “No, too dangerous, I won’t…”
One hand clapped hard over my mouth while the other secured my arms against my sides. The incantation built, more rapidly this time, to its peak and then the walls were dissolving around us. As the last of the stone faded it was illuminated by a dazzling blue flash and I felt the edges of explosion, but they disappeared almost before they registered as the world came back into view.
He released me and I backed away, taking no notice of the lush scenery. “Are you crazy?” I didn’t even attempt to control the fear in my voice. “I’m a condemned traitor! You’ll be one too if they discover you’ve done this!”
“Did you attempt to assassinate the emperor?”
“Of course not!”
“Then I’m not worried,” he said coolly.
“Don’t you understand? The emperor found me guilty so it doesn’t matter whether or not I really am! They won’t just expel you from the Board, she’ll try to kill you!”
His asked sharply, “Ameliorene?”
“You knew?” I asked, stunned.
“I made some interesting discoveries last night.” He broke off and glanced around. “And we need to leave. Come on,” he commanded, extending his hand.
“No,” I said flatly. “I’m not going anywhere with you. If you transport back now, you have a chance of escaping detection.”
“I’m afraid not. There aren’t many people who can break a prisoner out of an imperial holding cell. In fact, I had to have Valerian’s help. The moment they see the damage, they’ll guess who did it. Which is why we need to go right now. Lastra will buy us what time he can, but it won’t be much.”
“Lastra?” I asked, momentarily distract, and then, “Where are we going?”
“Where all the Outlaws go.”
“The Shazar Pass,” I realized, and followed him down the path, taking in the vibrant landscape you had described in your letters. How ironic that the place I had planned to go to escape Damorin was the very location he took me to. Within a very few paces we began to climb, a slope that was gentle at first but which grew increasingly steep.
A few minutes later, as I was beginning to pant, a queer smoky scent came to my nostrils. “Master,” I gasped, “do you smell that?”
He glanced over at me, then halted mid stride. “Cora, how magic are your clothes?”
The smoke was coming from me. As I pulled open the front of my robe, the sheep, until now obediently silent, bleated frantically. “Fiiiiire! Waaaaater! Baaaaaarbecuuuuuue!”
Damorin shoved me toward a bolder that very luckily sat next to the path. “Go behind there and take them off.”
“But—” I tried to protest.
“Cora, you’re on fire!”
He had a point. I retreated behind the rock and scrambled out of the pajamas, and watched in fascination and a little horror as the sheep went up in sickly purple flames. Jalwa be thanked, my robe and my underwear showed no signs of combustibility. Neither did the Stones when I peeked into their pouch. Tying my sash firmly, I ventured back out around the rock. “You’re not going to go up in smoke, too, are you?” I asked, eyeing Damorin’s apparel. He looked positively rustic in denim pants and a rough cotton shirt, but I must admit the look suited him. A lot. Now that I had a moment to actually stop and look at him, I had to remind myself not to gawk. “You aren’t going to go up in flames too, are you?” I asked, to fill up the suddenly awkward silence.
“No,” he answered, beginning to hike again. “Thenzarian peasant clothing was in fashion this spring.”
“Ah yes, authentically woven by Thenzarian peasant children in sweat shops,” I said, a little self-righteously, since I had boycotted that particular trend.
“I only shop Fair Trade, of course.”
I rolled my eyes and kept walking. A few hours later it was more like limping, with a stagger or two thrown in for good measure. My light house shoes were not meant for hiking through the Shazar Pass. “How much farther?” I asked, trying not to sound whiny.
He took my hand to help me over a steep spot, and then kept it since, actually, everything at this point was a steep spot. “I’m not certain. Valerian gave me clear landmarks, but he was a bit vague about the actual distance.”
I wanted to ask what the landmarks led to, but I couldn’t spare the breath.
The final rim of the sun had just disappeared behind the mountains when Damorin announced us to be at our destination. We stood at the top of a rocky outcrop, rimmed with large boulders on three sides and a sheer drop into a valley on the fourth. Walking to a breadbox sized white stone near the cliff edge, Damorin dropped to one knee and traced a circle around it, muttering softly. Then he clapped three times and the stone erupted in blue flame.
“How did you do that?” I demanded.
“It’s not human magic. According to Valerian it will attract some friends of his.”
“Marvelous. How soon will they be here?”
“I have no idea.” He walked to the edge and stared down into the valley.
I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. The twilight brought a chill to the air that would only deepen with the darkness, and my robe was not exactly made to withstand mountain nights. I sank down beside the signal flare, sadly heatless, and hugged my knees against my chest.
As I stared at the flickering blue, I thought about how very close I had come to the end of life as I knew it. If Damorin hadn’t rescued me, I would be beginning my first night in exile, banished forever from the Realm and all I loved. It was still a possibility. I wondered bleakly if Ameliorene was crazy, and what height of revenge she would be driven to by what she would surely see as the ultimate betrayal on Damorin’s part.
A skittering pebble heralded his approach. Looking up at his tall shadow I said quietly, “I am so sorry.”
“For what?”
“Ruining your life. Ameliorene is going to kill us both.”
He actually laughed, but then, he hadn’t seen her crazy eyes when she’d told me she would make him emperor. “The truth is going to come out, and once it does, there won’t be any question over reinstating either of us to the council,” he said firmly. “If we’re ever officially removed in the first place.”
“And if we’re still alive.”
“We’re hard people to kill.” Despite his reassuring tone, I shivered and he reached over to touch my hand, frowning. “You’re freezing.” He stood, then reached down to pull me up too. “Let’s walk.”
I willingly traded the illusory warmth of the signal fire for that of his arm around my shoulders. The stars were out, but no moon, and it was nearly impossible to see anything beyond the cold glow of our own circle. Down below winked tiny flashes of light. Fireflies, I suppose, or whatever cousin of fireflies can survive in the Pass.
“Cora, how did you know the princess was responsible?” His voice drew my attention back from the winking lights.
“She came to my cell, fifteen minutes before you did. She said that she was the who had framed me.”
“What else?” he asked gently.
“She said Winterfast was the one who made the assassination attempts on me.” His arm tightened. “But she stabbed Blivius.”
“Jalwa’s ghost,” he breathed, as stunned as I had been. “Why?”
“She wants to be empress. She’s going to kill her father.”
He stood silent for a long time, and then he said in an odd tone, “And I thought I knew her.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered in a small voice, wondering just how upset he was.
But he sounded more puzzled than betrayed as he said, “It doesn’t make sense. Why does she have to banish you to assassinate her father? And why does she think they’ll give her the crown, anyway?”
“Because of you,” I told him.
He looked at me uncomprehendingly, and I felt myself flushing, no longer cold. “She thinks if she marries you, they’ll make you emperor. And she wanted to get rid of me because she thought that I was, well, distracting you.”
“She wanted you killed because of me,” he repeated, and then he put both arms around me and held me tightly. “I’ve been trying to protect you, and I’ve only been putting you in more danger.”
He might have said something else, but I had stopped listening. Waves of warmth washed over me, driving away thoughts of traitors and empires and freezing magicless wastelands, and everything but the realization that the top of my head fit perfectly beneath his chin. I closed my eyes and faced the fact that the reason I had been so shaken by Ameliorene, why I had been so frightened when he risked his life to transport me out of that cell, and why I was at this moment feeling so idiotically happy was that I was helplessly in love with Damorin Ardaya.
You no doubt saw this coming, dearest, but I was blindsided. And stuck in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, waiting for who-knew-what to come out of the darkness, was hardly ideal timing for this particular self revelation. Particularly since it rendered me incapable of thinking anything but how heavenly my present position was.
“If we’re not interrupting anything,” came a gruff voice, followed by a great deal of snickering.
I pulled back immediately, glad the night hid my blush, and squinted at the squat shapes, almost indistinguishable from the boulders in the blue light. Trolls. I should have guessed. Sean’s friends had arrived.
They may be rude, crude, and dead ugly, but I will say this for Trolls: they know how to live well. After Damorin explained our situation, the trio (I believe the same ones you ran into, Arturo, Vincenzo, and Pilukio by name) led us along a twisted path chipped out of the Cliffside, and which, if I am not mistaken, led exactly where it did not appear to. I have never studied troll magic, but it must be fascinating. At any rate, we eventually arrived at the concealed entrance of a cave. A series of caves, I should say. The trio’s lair was a large set of underground chambers, interconnected and sumptuously, if garrishly, furnished.
As we entered, yet another troll came bustling out to meet us. This was Lucenza, and a kinder creature I never hope to meet. She took one look at my exhausted self and took me under her wing. I was wrapped in blanket, and fed a most nourishing cup of tea while Damorin held conference with her brothers. I wanted to hear what was going on, but the warmth and the softness of the cushions were too much for my exhausted body, and I fell asleep before my cup was quite empty.
When I woke up this morning, Lucenza and I were alone in the caves, Damorin having departed on a scouting trip with our guides of last night. I’ve spent the morning trying to avoid both being fed to death and thinking about Damorin. Neither attempt has been very successful. Did you know that there are twenty-seven distinct forms of Munches? And the fact that someone isn’t present is absolutely no help in thinking sensibly about him.
Lucenza is out of the room, and Muse has just appeared. He has your letter, but refuses to stop long enough to let me read it. He seems very nervous, and I wonder if he has some sort of unpleasant history with trolls.
He insists on leaving now, so with all my love,
Cordy
I write those words and feel like crying. I would give, quite literally, anything to be speaking to your face instead of writing a letter you will almost certainly never receive. But I have always believed that when one is about to slip over the brink of insanity, it is one’s duty to do all in one’s power to prevent the tragedy. So I here I sit, scribbling out recent events, by hand (a dictation spell being, due to location, out of the question, and my present hosts not having much use for pens, much less magical ones). Not that I should be complaining. Unpleasant as recent events have been, had everything gone as scheduled, I would be worse than dead. Instead I sit warm and fed, in the care of a troll whose nature can only be described as motherly, even if her pens do leak and the writing paper smells suspiciously of fish.
As I recall, my last missive left off as I was about to escape from my house and bolt for Fort Thunderhall. But my plan was utterly overturned right at the beginning, and not by Damorin, who was the only person I had bothered to specifically plan against. I’d just shipped off the muse with my letter and Sean’s, which arrived in the nick of time, when a very determined pounding sounded on the front door.
I considered sneaking out the back, but if the person knocking was in any way connected with my overanxious guardian, a non-response would just set of all the alarms, so I stomped downstairs. Happily (so I thought), I’d put on my pajamas (the ones you gave me) while waiting for the men to depart, just in case I had to put in another appearance. After all, who could possibly suspect me of escaping when I was wearing flannel decorated with talking sheep? The robe I’d thrown on top didn’t do much to stifle their persistent voices.
On my front doorstep stood a full escort of guards. Not Justicum guards. Royal guards.
“Captain, what is the meaning of this?” I demanded of their leader.
“Yeeees,” seconded one of the sheep. “You’re interrupting our beauty sleeeeep.”
The captain looked taken aback, but his training came to the forefront. “Magi Cordelimaera Demestheln?”
“Yes.”
“Aaaaand company,” said the sheep.
“It is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest—”
“Not again!” I interrupted. “Will nothing satisfy that man? Isn’t being locked up in my own house good enough protective custody?”
“Booossy,” agreed the sheep.
The captain was beginning to look a little shifty eyed from trying not to look around too obviously for the voices. “As I was saying, Magi, it is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest for high treason against the Imperial Realm, namely, conspiracy to the attempted assassination of his Majesty, the Emperor. It is also my duty to remove you without delay to the Royal Residence to be tried immediately before the Imperial Tribunal.”
As you can imagine, I was somewhat taken aback by his words. I dealt with the most intelligible of them first. “In the first place, as a member of the Imperial Council, I have the right to be tried before the Board of Masters. And in the second place, are you crazy?” Not, perhaps, the most tactful thing to say to one’s arresting officer, but he had just accused me of trying to kill the emperor.
“Noooot guilty,” chorused the sheep.
“You shut up,” I told them, no longer amused by their antics, and they subsided into sulky silence.
“All accused of high treason are answerable to the Tribunal,” the captain said woodenly, although I did not remember reading any such thing in my Council handbook. Admittedly, I’d skimmed through the boring parts. More to the point, there were a lot of guards on my front porch, and although, making the best use of my security system, I might have been able to escape them, I didn’t think I could outrun an entire army all the way to the Shazar Pass.
“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding,” I said as brightly as I could, allowing them to snap on iron restraining bracelets that blocked my magic.
It was after midnight when we arrived at the Residence, and I was still trying to convince myself that it was all an outrageous mistake. Once everything was straightened out, abject apologies would be made, and I would be able to go back home. Maybe I would even have the pleasure of watching Damorin roll a few heads first. He was not going to be happy when he learned that I had been hauled out of protective custody.
The guards hustled me in through a back door I’d never seen before, and the passages they took all seemed to lead down. At last we arrived at a small audience chamber with two guards posted outside the door. The décor was very somber, but I didn’t spend much time analyzing the interior decorating. As soon as I got a look at the witness bench, my heart seemed to turn to stone.
Winterfast was resplendent in his Sixth Skillhouse regalia, and next to him perched his dirty lying rat of a grandson. Winterfast shook his head and looked sad when he met my gaze.
I’d been trying very hard to remain calm and rational up to that point, but when he rubbed his hypocrisy in my face, I lost my temper. “How could you?” I shouted, running forward. “Grandfather trusted you! I thought you were my friend! And you,” I practically spat, turning on Jamin, “pretending that you were falling in love with me! And all the time—”
That was when the guards got hold of me again, and I had just enough sense not to struggle.
The Imperial Tribunal is very small, consisting of the emperor and whoever else he chooses to appoint. In this case, he had appointed no one, although his private chief of security stood at hand to advise him. The empress was not there, but Ameliorene was, sitting next to her father and clinging to his hand.
The guards led me in front of the throne and pushed me to my knees.
“Magi Cordelimaera,” the emperor began in a very serious voice, “you are charged with willfully attempting to harm our person.”
“Your majesty, there has been a terrible mistake,” I pleaded. “These men,” I pointed at the witness bench, “are lying to you. They want the power of the Suldan Stones for themselves. That one isn’t even really Jamin Winterfast. His name is Benjamin Valerian, and he’s from the Outskirts.”
The lying rat flinched, and Winterfast had to speak quickly to cover it up. “Obviously, her use of the Stones has unsettled her mind. Please, don’t be too hard on the poor child.” If I hadn’t known better, I would have believed he really was concerned about me.
It was the security chief who asked the questions. “Magi Cordelimaera, do you deny that four days ago you removed the Suldan Stones from your vault?”
And I suddenly remembered that a tiny velvet bag hung around my neck. (The guards didn’t bother searching me. I suppose the sheep discouraged them.) “That is true,” I replied, hoping my sudden (new) attack of nerves didn’t show on my face.
“You removed the Stones without the knowledge or permission of the Masters?”
“Yes, but…”
“Please, Magi, just answer the question. You were then in the unsupervised possession of the Stones until approximately twenty hours after you had first removed them?”
“That is correct,” I said stiffly.
“Did you use the Stones while they were in your possession?”
“Yes,” I replied curtly. “And I later reported everything to the Board of Masters.”
My interrogator didn’t seem impressed. “Isn’t it true that you used the Stones to steal secret information about the protections surrounding the emperor to try and kill him?”
“No!” I burst out. “Why in Jalwa’s name would I want to kill the emperor?”
“We believe you are in the employ of certain factions in the Outskirts, who wish to regain power in the Realm by violent means.”
First I was an assassin. Now I was the leader of a rebellion? “Your majesty, please. This is insane!” I was begging now, really and truly frightened.
“We are sorry for you, child,” said the emperor. “But for the sake of our Realm, we must find you guilty.”
“Before you render the sentence, your majesty, I beg that you will remember her youth. She has made a mistake, and she may already be dying because of it.” I didn’t particularly want Winterfast begging on my behalf, but then, a part of me was glad anybody was asking for mercy.
“There is only one punishment for magical treason,” said the interrogator.
The emperor stood, still holding his daughter’s hand. “Magi Cordelimaera, you are hereby banished from the Realm and this world.”
People in sensational serials are forever getting banished, and it always seems to be accompanied by a clap of thunder. The words, as he spoke them, seemed overly familiar, and yet strange in their ordinariness. No clap of thunder for me.
They locked me in a windowless cell with thick walls, a thicker door and the warning that even the smallest attempt at magic would bring down a curse powerful enough to render banishment unnecessary. I sat and stared at the wall, not thinking or feeling, in a state of blessed numbness. It’s all a mistake, I kept thinking. Things will be all right in a moment. I knew I ought to be trying to figure out how to use the Stones as a bargaining chip, but all I could do was sit and stare. In retrospect, I’m rather ashamed of myself.
My reverie was interrupted by the sound of the locks being unfastened. Not already, I thought, starting to feel a flicker of panic. But it was Princess Ameliorene who entered the cell. “Leave us,” she demanded. “I wish to speak with she who would have murdered my father. She cannot hurt me know.” I guessed she carried a ward that would blow into the next world without help of banishment if I laid a little finger on her. The guards reluctantly retreated and shut the door.
Dramatic, I thought distantly, my gaze drifting back to the floor.
“Look at me.”
There was a tone in that command I had never heard before, coldly, emotionlessly imperious. My eyes swung up and I saw with an unpleasant shock that she was smiling. Not one of her practiced social smiles, or even one of gloating triumph, but an expression full of cruel calculation. At that moment I could hardly understand why I had ever thought her frivolous, and my mind broke loose from its numbed state and began to work furiously. I felt coolly detached but very alert, certain that the missing pieces of our mystery were at last about to fall into place.
“I have found,” Ameliorene said in the same even, frigid tone, “that my sense of vanity is not entirely assumed. The effort you have cost me will not be fully justified unless you know not only that you have lost, but who has defeated you.”
It was fascinating to discover that the criminal impulse to confession is not only a work of fiction. I examined her from beneath a raised eyebrow, then began to clap in deliberate mockery. “Bravo, Your Highness. May I congratulate you on this glorious conquest?”
Her nostrils flared but she maintained control of her voice. “Irritating to the last, in your own small way. Do you know, I almost wish you had presented more of a challenge. A formidable dragon to slay, rather than a pesky fly who survives by sheer luck.”
“Buzz, buzz,” I said, in the most bored tone I could muster. “Your assassination attempts really were very sloppy. A blind donkey could have escaped that chandelier.”
“Not mine,” she answered. “Winterfast’s. He was unexpectedly sentimental about you, and I had a hard time convincing him to do the job. His original plan was to adopt you, and thus control the Stones. Of course, I found that unacceptable.”
“Look,” I said, “is this about your tea gown that I ruined? Because frankly, it wasn’t that flattering.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what this is about.” She was definitely beginning to lose her temper. She wanted a broken prisoner. All she was getting was, in my own small way, a rude one.
“The Suldan Stones, yes, yes, I know.”
“No. Winterfast’s obsession with them was useful to draw him into my plan, but that is all.”
I gave a patient sigh, hiding my surprise. “What else could you possible gain by my removal?”
“An empire,” she told me.
I let the sarcasm ooze from my tone as I answered, “Oh of course, you want to take over the Realm. And it’s perfectly clear how getting rid of me means that you suddenly become empress. Although I suppose the next assassination on your father might not fail.”
She smiled, and I suddenly wondered whether she was quite sane. “You’re right. My father is a fool and easily dealt with, as easily as I dealt with Blivius.”
“That was you?” I asked, shocked out of my pretended indifference.
“Who else could have gotten close enough to that paranoid old fool to stick a knife in his back?” She sounded delighted with herself.
“I still don’t understand,” I said, regaining my psychological equilibrium. “You aren’t even in the succession. The emperor will choose an heir from among his male relatives.”
“Oh that’s right.” She looked at me in mock astonishment. “How could I not remember that I’ve been raised as a mere pawn, to be traded to some foreign king for the strongest treaty. How could the silly little princess be empress? Unless, of course, the emperor dies before he can choose an heir, and she had someone by her side that the Council trusted absolutely.”
“Damorin,” I breathed.
“Yes. They made him a Master before he was thirty. They will love making him emperor.” She laughed a little to herself.
“You’ll find you’re sadly mistaken, if you think you can manipulate the Master into being your puppet on the throne.”
“Puppet? Don’t be so naïve, child. Did you think this was only about power?” She leaned forward, as though sharing a great secret. “No woman who has ever been in his arms can view Damorin Ardaya as a puppet.”
And without warning my shield of emotional detachment disintegrated. I clenched my hands around the seat of my chair, trying to hold myself in place.
Ameliorene must have seen that she had at last gotten to me, and she continued talking in a soft, almost nostalgic tone of voice. “He understands, you see, that I’m not everything I appear to be. He was coming along so nicely until you came and made him feel sorry for you. Poor little orphaned magi. You’ve become quite the pet project. Your youthful corruption will be such a disappointment, but I will enjoy consoling him.”
“Get out!” I hissed, shaking with the effort of not diving for her mewling throat. “Get out before I bring the walls down around both of us.”
She was laughing again, triumphantly. “Goodbye, Cordelimaera. We won’t be meeting again.”
She exited and I somehow resisted the impulse to hurl the chair after her. Instead I paced furiously around the cell, feeling nastier by the second. So she was the one responsible for the theft, the lies, the brushes with death. She had taken it into her pretty head to run the empire, and I was the one who got to pick up the bill. All because pernicious fate had chosen assign me to Damorin Ardaya’s list of pet projects.
Where was he anyway? After all the fuss of the past few days, the guards, the warnings, the wards, the protective custody, he was conspicuously absent when the real trouble started. And Sean! Where was he when the Imperial guards were arresting me in my own home? Not to mention your father, the magnificent Underground spy, who decided that telling me nothing was the best way to keep me safe. Where had that landed me? Banished, that’s where!
“Curse and plague the Imperial Underground,” I growled, taking another furious turn, and stopping to glare at an inoffensive corner of the ceiling. “And let’s not forget the oh-so-solicitous Board of Masters who track your every move until you really need them.” I jabbed an accusing finger at the stone, “And then where are they?”
“Right here,” came the smooth reply.
I spun around so fast I lost my balance and fell against the wall. Less than five feet behind me stood Damorin. I had grown so used to identifying him by the shimmering blue robes that for a second I failed to recognize him, and then my anger dissolved into an illogical burst of happiness.
I started to speak his name but he stepped forward and placed a cautionary finger across my lips. “Not here,” he said quietly, and I nodded understanding. He dropped his hand only to pull me into the circle of his arms, and the whispered words of a transport spell immediately built around us.
My happiness evaporated as abruptly as it had come, superceded by icy terror. I thrust myself away, stumbling halfway across the cell. Tangled words spilled in a panic from my lips. “No, too dangerous, I won’t…”
One hand clapped hard over my mouth while the other secured my arms against my sides. The incantation built, more rapidly this time, to its peak and then the walls were dissolving around us. As the last of the stone faded it was illuminated by a dazzling blue flash and I felt the edges of explosion, but they disappeared almost before they registered as the world came back into view.
He released me and I backed away, taking no notice of the lush scenery. “Are you crazy?” I didn’t even attempt to control the fear in my voice. “I’m a condemned traitor! You’ll be one too if they discover you’ve done this!”
“Did you attempt to assassinate the emperor?”
“Of course not!”
“Then I’m not worried,” he said coolly.
“Don’t you understand? The emperor found me guilty so it doesn’t matter whether or not I really am! They won’t just expel you from the Board, she’ll try to kill you!”
His asked sharply, “Ameliorene?”
“You knew?” I asked, stunned.
“I made some interesting discoveries last night.” He broke off and glanced around. “And we need to leave. Come on,” he commanded, extending his hand.
“No,” I said flatly. “I’m not going anywhere with you. If you transport back now, you have a chance of escaping detection.”
“I’m afraid not. There aren’t many people who can break a prisoner out of an imperial holding cell. In fact, I had to have Valerian’s help. The moment they see the damage, they’ll guess who did it. Which is why we need to go right now. Lastra will buy us what time he can, but it won’t be much.”
“Lastra?” I asked, momentarily distract, and then, “Where are we going?”
“Where all the Outlaws go.”
“The Shazar Pass,” I realized, and followed him down the path, taking in the vibrant landscape you had described in your letters. How ironic that the place I had planned to go to escape Damorin was the very location he took me to. Within a very few paces we began to climb, a slope that was gentle at first but which grew increasingly steep.
A few minutes later, as I was beginning to pant, a queer smoky scent came to my nostrils. “Master,” I gasped, “do you smell that?”
He glanced over at me, then halted mid stride. “Cora, how magic are your clothes?”
The smoke was coming from me. As I pulled open the front of my robe, the sheep, until now obediently silent, bleated frantically. “Fiiiiire! Waaaaater! Baaaaaarbecuuuuuue!”
Damorin shoved me toward a bolder that very luckily sat next to the path. “Go behind there and take them off.”
“But—” I tried to protest.
“Cora, you’re on fire!”
He had a point. I retreated behind the rock and scrambled out of the pajamas, and watched in fascination and a little horror as the sheep went up in sickly purple flames. Jalwa be thanked, my robe and my underwear showed no signs of combustibility. Neither did the Stones when I peeked into their pouch. Tying my sash firmly, I ventured back out around the rock. “You’re not going to go up in smoke, too, are you?” I asked, eyeing Damorin’s apparel. He looked positively rustic in denim pants and a rough cotton shirt, but I must admit the look suited him. A lot. Now that I had a moment to actually stop and look at him, I had to remind myself not to gawk. “You aren’t going to go up in flames too, are you?” I asked, to fill up the suddenly awkward silence.
“No,” he answered, beginning to hike again. “Thenzarian peasant clothing was in fashion this spring.”
“Ah yes, authentically woven by Thenzarian peasant children in sweat shops,” I said, a little self-righteously, since I had boycotted that particular trend.
“I only shop Fair Trade, of course.”
I rolled my eyes and kept walking. A few hours later it was more like limping, with a stagger or two thrown in for good measure. My light house shoes were not meant for hiking through the Shazar Pass. “How much farther?” I asked, trying not to sound whiny.
He took my hand to help me over a steep spot, and then kept it since, actually, everything at this point was a steep spot. “I’m not certain. Valerian gave me clear landmarks, but he was a bit vague about the actual distance.”
I wanted to ask what the landmarks led to, but I couldn’t spare the breath.
The final rim of the sun had just disappeared behind the mountains when Damorin announced us to be at our destination. We stood at the top of a rocky outcrop, rimmed with large boulders on three sides and a sheer drop into a valley on the fourth. Walking to a breadbox sized white stone near the cliff edge, Damorin dropped to one knee and traced a circle around it, muttering softly. Then he clapped three times and the stone erupted in blue flame.
“How did you do that?” I demanded.
“It’s not human magic. According to Valerian it will attract some friends of his.”
“Marvelous. How soon will they be here?”
“I have no idea.” He walked to the edge and stared down into the valley.
I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. The twilight brought a chill to the air that would only deepen with the darkness, and my robe was not exactly made to withstand mountain nights. I sank down beside the signal flare, sadly heatless, and hugged my knees against my chest.
As I stared at the flickering blue, I thought about how very close I had come to the end of life as I knew it. If Damorin hadn’t rescued me, I would be beginning my first night in exile, banished forever from the Realm and all I loved. It was still a possibility. I wondered bleakly if Ameliorene was crazy, and what height of revenge she would be driven to by what she would surely see as the ultimate betrayal on Damorin’s part.
A skittering pebble heralded his approach. Looking up at his tall shadow I said quietly, “I am so sorry.”
“For what?”
“Ruining your life. Ameliorene is going to kill us both.”
He actually laughed, but then, he hadn’t seen her crazy eyes when she’d told me she would make him emperor. “The truth is going to come out, and once it does, there won’t be any question over reinstating either of us to the council,” he said firmly. “If we’re ever officially removed in the first place.”
“And if we’re still alive.”
“We’re hard people to kill.” Despite his reassuring tone, I shivered and he reached over to touch my hand, frowning. “You’re freezing.” He stood, then reached down to pull me up too. “Let’s walk.”
I willingly traded the illusory warmth of the signal fire for that of his arm around my shoulders. The stars were out, but no moon, and it was nearly impossible to see anything beyond the cold glow of our own circle. Down below winked tiny flashes of light. Fireflies, I suppose, or whatever cousin of fireflies can survive in the Pass.
“Cora, how did you know the princess was responsible?” His voice drew my attention back from the winking lights.
“She came to my cell, fifteen minutes before you did. She said that she was the who had framed me.”
“What else?” he asked gently.
“She said Winterfast was the one who made the assassination attempts on me.” His arm tightened. “But she stabbed Blivius.”
“Jalwa’s ghost,” he breathed, as stunned as I had been. “Why?”
“She wants to be empress. She’s going to kill her father.”
He stood silent for a long time, and then he said in an odd tone, “And I thought I knew her.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered in a small voice, wondering just how upset he was.
But he sounded more puzzled than betrayed as he said, “It doesn’t make sense. Why does she have to banish you to assassinate her father? And why does she think they’ll give her the crown, anyway?”
“Because of you,” I told him.
He looked at me uncomprehendingly, and I felt myself flushing, no longer cold. “She thinks if she marries you, they’ll make you emperor. And she wanted to get rid of me because she thought that I was, well, distracting you.”
“She wanted you killed because of me,” he repeated, and then he put both arms around me and held me tightly. “I’ve been trying to protect you, and I’ve only been putting you in more danger.”
He might have said something else, but I had stopped listening. Waves of warmth washed over me, driving away thoughts of traitors and empires and freezing magicless wastelands, and everything but the realization that the top of my head fit perfectly beneath his chin. I closed my eyes and faced the fact that the reason I had been so shaken by Ameliorene, why I had been so frightened when he risked his life to transport me out of that cell, and why I was at this moment feeling so idiotically happy was that I was helplessly in love with Damorin Ardaya.
You no doubt saw this coming, dearest, but I was blindsided. And stuck in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, waiting for who-knew-what to come out of the darkness, was hardly ideal timing for this particular self revelation. Particularly since it rendered me incapable of thinking anything but how heavenly my present position was.
“If we’re not interrupting anything,” came a gruff voice, followed by a great deal of snickering.
I pulled back immediately, glad the night hid my blush, and squinted at the squat shapes, almost indistinguishable from the boulders in the blue light. Trolls. I should have guessed. Sean’s friends had arrived.
They may be rude, crude, and dead ugly, but I will say this for Trolls: they know how to live well. After Damorin explained our situation, the trio (I believe the same ones you ran into, Arturo, Vincenzo, and Pilukio by name) led us along a twisted path chipped out of the Cliffside, and which, if I am not mistaken, led exactly where it did not appear to. I have never studied troll magic, but it must be fascinating. At any rate, we eventually arrived at the concealed entrance of a cave. A series of caves, I should say. The trio’s lair was a large set of underground chambers, interconnected and sumptuously, if garrishly, furnished.
As we entered, yet another troll came bustling out to meet us. This was Lucenza, and a kinder creature I never hope to meet. She took one look at my exhausted self and took me under her wing. I was wrapped in blanket, and fed a most nourishing cup of tea while Damorin held conference with her brothers. I wanted to hear what was going on, but the warmth and the softness of the cushions were too much for my exhausted body, and I fell asleep before my cup was quite empty.
When I woke up this morning, Lucenza and I were alone in the caves, Damorin having departed on a scouting trip with our guides of last night. I’ve spent the morning trying to avoid both being fed to death and thinking about Damorin. Neither attempt has been very successful. Did you know that there are twenty-seven distinct forms of Munches? And the fact that someone isn’t present is absolutely no help in thinking sensibly about him.
Lucenza is out of the room, and Muse has just appeared. He has your letter, but refuses to stop long enough to let me read it. He seems very nervous, and I wonder if he has some sort of unpleasant history with trolls.
He insists on leaving now, so with all my love,
Cordy
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Letter XXIV (Foofri to Cordy)
Dear Cordy,
I have very mixed feelings about the thought of you traveling through the Pass, dearest! I want you here, the very idea thrills me beyond belief, but I couldn't bear it if anything happed to you! Of course I'll meet you if you're still set on coming, I know I can't stop you, but please understand you must travel very carefully.
It's ironic that Muse teased you about being useless in the Pass. He never liked spending time in the Pass and, like you said, acts very reluctant about going back there. It's doubtful he would be at all helpful!
I'm sorry you quarreled with Damorin. Men can be so odd sometimes, sidestepping questions about masks and then turning around and being ridiculously overprotective! I don't envy the person who's with Damorin when he finds out you're gone. He'll be positively livid, you know. Sean will be upset as well, now that I think about it.
He'd be livid, too, if he knew what I was working on. No, I haven't been experimenting with my freckles, but I have spent my whole day in his laboratory, doing all kinds of interesting things. I went back to the bookshelves and found the old leather-bound volume which caught my eye when Sean gave me a tour. Just as I suspected, it was the same spell book he used to conjure the wraiths back when we were children. I'm working on an idea of mine regarding wraiths. Don't worry, I have a wonderful experiment chamber to practice with so there is no need for alarm!
I did venture into the other parts of the house and found them cozy, but dull. Aside from his laboratory, Sean keeps house entirely without the aid of magic just like he said! He must have spent the few days we were apart scouring and cleaning. Indeed, there is not one dirty corner nor cluttered closet. Even the water closet is spotless.
Thank you for including Sean's letter with yours. I've copied some excerpts from it so you know what the men are doing about Winterfast and so forth. I can't imagine how an assassination against the Emperor could be related to the Stones, but Sean is right, the timing is too coincidental. I hope they solve this mystery quickly.
Muse gave me an idea of when you might arrive if things go as planned. I will be ready, but please, dearest, remember to be careful!
Love,
Foofri
P.S. I can't wait to see if my memoirs are published in the Dorthwany Daily! You're such a dear for delivering them on my behalf.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Letter XXIII (Sean Valerian to Foofri Montphish)
Dear Foofribelle,
I'm back in the Realm--not my favorite place in the world, and without you here to make it interesting, I'm feeling a little claustrophobic—but we are making some progress on this business with Ben and the Stones so that makes it easier to be so far away from where I want to be.
My trip through the Pass was largely uneventful. At the beginning of the cliffs we encountered wraiths sniffing around and the larat and I had to take a fairly treacherous shortcut to evade them, but after that, there was no stopping until we reached Fort Thunderhall this morning. Unfortunately, Gavin was there and probably passed the information on to Ben. He looked surprised to see me, which made me wonder what he knows about the wraiths. I had to resist throttling him on the spot, but I exercised patience. Better to let things play out a little bit more before acting rashly.
When I reached Cordy's estate, Damorin Ardaya greeted me at the door. He said he and Cordy were in the middle of a discussion and that he would meet me later. I would have trusted his suggestion except since I had just discovered that she was my cousin, I was anxious to meet her again.
She looked me over thoroughly and promptly said, “So you're the one who dragged my cousin to the Outskirts on a larat.”
Obviously, I should have listened to Ardaya.
After some fairly unpleasant shouting between the two of them, Cordy ran upstairs leaving Ardaya glaring after her. Schooling his features, he turned and glanced at me. “You look like you could use a bath and a hot meal,” he said, abruptly. “Then we'll find Montphish and apprise him of the current situation.”
Clapping me on the shoulder, he transported us to the suite of rooms at his home and ordered me a bath. When I finished, I found my clothes gone and a set of dinner wear hanging on the door to the adjoining dressing room. Cursing under my breath, I put the items on and emerged into Ardaya's sitting room.
“Where in Jalwa's name are my clothes?” I demanded.
Amused, Ardaya glanced up from his plate. He hadn't waited dinner on me. “I'm sure you're as loathe to part with those...things...as I would be were I in your shoes,” he said, smirking, “but where we're going, they won't pass muster.”
“What, you're embarrassed to be seen with me in such attire?” I joked, sitting down to my own meal.
He took a sip of wine, his lips twitching. “Even if they were clean, which they weren't, they made you look like a reject from a low-budget 'The Woodsman's Adventure play.”
“A badly dressed lot, those woodsmen. I don't suppose you'd ever catch one fortunate enough to wear sparkling robes on an adventure.”
He glared and raised a brow. “These robes aren't a matter of choice, they're an indication of title.”
“Well, I think they're just beautiful. I hope you wear them proudly everywhere you go." I ignored his dour expression and kept going. "And I'll bet the Princess finds them simply dazzling. I'll lay money she can't keep her hands off.”
He glared at me a few seconds longer before giving an amused laugh. “Jalwa, you're such an idiot,” he said. “If the rest of the Board of Masters heard you disparaging our status that way...”
“I know, I know, they'd set me back a few skillhouse ranks—if I had one, that is—and then banish me to the Outskirts. Wouldn't that be horrible,” I added, grinning.
He shook his head. “You always have to make things difficult, don't you?”
“It's Realm protocol that makes things difficult.”
“You're sick of it?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied sharply, gesturing to my change of clothes as an example. “I've been here less than a day and already I find it stifling.”
He toyed with his wineglass and continued. “You'd like to make some changes?”
“Changes,” I scoffed. “The Realm doesn't make changes, especially ones instigated by an idiot woodsman reject like myself.”
He glanced up. “I just thought that if you're passionate about it, maybe you'd reconsider my original offer.”
“And teach at the Academy?” I stabbed at the meat on my plate. “Ha. The Board would never go for it and you know it.”
“I do have some influence,” he said drily.
“Even if they agreed, it would never work out. Besides, I haven't stayed in one place that long in years.”
“Now you're just making up excuses.”
“Well I can't even think about it right now,” I said, pushing away from the table. “Where are we meeting Montphish that I have to get so dressed up for, anyway?”
He stood up and straightened his tie and robes. “Ever been to a Bun-snigger outing?”
“No.”
“Prepare yourself,” he said, his smirk returning. “You're going to hate it.”
We transported to the entrance of the Bun-snigger arena where a tournament sponsored by Lady Lucinda was well under way. Apparently, Lady Lucinda’s Bun-snigger outings are the best place for gathering Imperial gossip, but I’m sure you already knew that. When we entered the arena, your father was indeed there and had collected enough points to be sitting on the second tier, busily catching eggs.
Lady Lucinda sat at the pinnacle of the third tier, playing referee in a hat which actually appeared to be adorned with cheese rounds, egg cartons, and little pink starfish. The whole ordeal was ridiculous at best and I found myself mentally retracting a certain statement I once made about sparkly robes not being good for anything. Ardaya was able to get us through the main level and straight to where your father was, allowing us to by-pass initiation.
As a result of some well aimed egg tosses and pure luck, we were able to attain third tier status and access to the Ardaya family's private box.
I explained about the wraiths in the Pass, about Winterfast and his grandson, and about the Suldan Stones (Damorin already knew since he had apparently read a letter of yours explaining the situation! You might have told me you were corresponding by muse, even through the Pass; that would have been very valuable information.) After digesting all of this information and putting all the pieces together, your father agreed that we needed more substantial evidence before taking action against Winterfast.
He also gave us a bit of shocking news which may be related somehow. Two assassination attempts have been made on the emperor's life in the past week, both within the warding restrictions of the Royal Residence. Someone who lives at the palace is trying to kill him.
The two attempts were foiled by members of the underground, thank goodness, but the timing was just too coincidental to dismiss without investigating. That's why your father went at a Bun-snigger event in the first place--without any other leads, he hoped to glean a snatch or two from the very hotbed of societal gossip. With the information I provided, we were able to leave the arena and make our plans.
Your father suggested that Ardaya tail Ben to see where he's going and who he's seeing. I itched to catch up with him myself, but knew that I wouldn't be able to keep myself concealed once I found him. Instead, your father assigned me to take a post in a little observation shack outside the Winterfast and Demestheln estates to keep an eye on things. We all agreed on a meeting time for the following morning to discuss our findings, then Ardaya and I left together.
To my surprise, he was more eager for his task than I was to mine. “Why the sudden zeal?” I asked, “I’d have thought you’d much rather go back to Cordy's estate and watch over her. I know how worried you are about her.”
“Of course I'm worried,” he replied, “She’s my ward. Not to mention the granddaughter of my late friend and mentor.”
“Yes, of course. But,” I said, after a pause, “she means more to you than that.”
He glanced at me, his face unreadable. We had spoken many times before, but never about something so private and I found his answer surprisingly unequivocal. “Am I that obvious?” he asked quietly.
“No, probably not. I just happen to be similarly afflicted so I know the signs.”
“Montphish’s daughter,” he stated.
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Interesting girl.”
“She is that…look, I’m sorry for imposing on your personal life.”
He waved away my apology. “We’ve always spoken freely since becoming acquainted and this is something I'm weary of keeping to myself anyway.” He looked around as if deciding which way to go. With a gleam in his eye that can best be described as feral, he mumbled a farewell before he clapped me on the back and disappeared. I think his dislike for Ben rivals even mine.
I briefly wrestled with the idea of knocking on Cordy's door again, but decided that might not be the most prudent course of action. Instead, I'm going to finish this letter, seal it, and have it sent to her with a plea to include it in her next delivery. I hope I've disclosed enough information to help you feel connected to what's happening here in the Realm. So far, all is peaceful and calm at Cordy's house (not surprising considering the security wards in place, which, by the way, remind me of a certain spell I saw you do near the magi tree at Seven Oaks where I first encountered your muse). I will write more tomorrow, after meeting with Ardaya and your father.
I hope you are well and that you're being responsible with both your freckles and my experiment chamber. I like knowing that you're in my home, safe and sound. I only wish I could be there, too.
Sincerely,
Sean Valerian
I'm back in the Realm--not my favorite place in the world, and without you here to make it interesting, I'm feeling a little claustrophobic—but we are making some progress on this business with Ben and the Stones so that makes it easier to be so far away from where I want to be.
My trip through the Pass was largely uneventful. At the beginning of the cliffs we encountered wraiths sniffing around and the larat and I had to take a fairly treacherous shortcut to evade them, but after that, there was no stopping until we reached Fort Thunderhall this morning. Unfortunately, Gavin was there and probably passed the information on to Ben. He looked surprised to see me, which made me wonder what he knows about the wraiths. I had to resist throttling him on the spot, but I exercised patience. Better to let things play out a little bit more before acting rashly.
When I reached Cordy's estate, Damorin Ardaya greeted me at the door. He said he and Cordy were in the middle of a discussion and that he would meet me later. I would have trusted his suggestion except since I had just discovered that she was my cousin, I was anxious to meet her again.
She looked me over thoroughly and promptly said, “So you're the one who dragged my cousin to the Outskirts on a larat.”
Obviously, I should have listened to Ardaya.
After some fairly unpleasant shouting between the two of them, Cordy ran upstairs leaving Ardaya glaring after her. Schooling his features, he turned and glanced at me. “You look like you could use a bath and a hot meal,” he said, abruptly. “Then we'll find Montphish and apprise him of the current situation.”
Clapping me on the shoulder, he transported us to the suite of rooms at his home and ordered me a bath. When I finished, I found my clothes gone and a set of dinner wear hanging on the door to the adjoining dressing room. Cursing under my breath, I put the items on and emerged into Ardaya's sitting room.
“Where in Jalwa's name are my clothes?” I demanded.
Amused, Ardaya glanced up from his plate. He hadn't waited dinner on me. “I'm sure you're as loathe to part with those...things...as I would be were I in your shoes,” he said, smirking, “but where we're going, they won't pass muster.”
“What, you're embarrassed to be seen with me in such attire?” I joked, sitting down to my own meal.
He took a sip of wine, his lips twitching. “Even if they were clean, which they weren't, they made you look like a reject from a low-budget 'The Woodsman's Adventure play.”
“A badly dressed lot, those woodsmen. I don't suppose you'd ever catch one fortunate enough to wear sparkling robes on an adventure.”
He glared and raised a brow. “These robes aren't a matter of choice, they're an indication of title.”
“Well, I think they're just beautiful. I hope you wear them proudly everywhere you go." I ignored his dour expression and kept going. "And I'll bet the Princess finds them simply dazzling. I'll lay money she can't keep her hands off.”
He glared at me a few seconds longer before giving an amused laugh. “Jalwa, you're such an idiot,” he said. “If the rest of the Board of Masters heard you disparaging our status that way...”
“I know, I know, they'd set me back a few skillhouse ranks—if I had one, that is—and then banish me to the Outskirts. Wouldn't that be horrible,” I added, grinning.
He shook his head. “You always have to make things difficult, don't you?”
“It's Realm protocol that makes things difficult.”
“You're sick of it?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied sharply, gesturing to my change of clothes as an example. “I've been here less than a day and already I find it stifling.”
He toyed with his wineglass and continued. “You'd like to make some changes?”
“Changes,” I scoffed. “The Realm doesn't make changes, especially ones instigated by an idiot woodsman reject like myself.”
He glanced up. “I just thought that if you're passionate about it, maybe you'd reconsider my original offer.”
“And teach at the Academy?” I stabbed at the meat on my plate. “Ha. The Board would never go for it and you know it.”
“I do have some influence,” he said drily.
“Even if they agreed, it would never work out. Besides, I haven't stayed in one place that long in years.”
“Now you're just making up excuses.”
“Well I can't even think about it right now,” I said, pushing away from the table. “Where are we meeting Montphish that I have to get so dressed up for, anyway?”
He stood up and straightened his tie and robes. “Ever been to a Bun-snigger outing?”
“No.”
“Prepare yourself,” he said, his smirk returning. “You're going to hate it.”
We transported to the entrance of the Bun-snigger arena where a tournament sponsored by Lady Lucinda was well under way. Apparently, Lady Lucinda’s Bun-snigger outings are the best place for gathering Imperial gossip, but I’m sure you already knew that. When we entered the arena, your father was indeed there and had collected enough points to be sitting on the second tier, busily catching eggs.
Lady Lucinda sat at the pinnacle of the third tier, playing referee in a hat which actually appeared to be adorned with cheese rounds, egg cartons, and little pink starfish. The whole ordeal was ridiculous at best and I found myself mentally retracting a certain statement I once made about sparkly robes not being good for anything. Ardaya was able to get us through the main level and straight to where your father was, allowing us to by-pass initiation.
As a result of some well aimed egg tosses and pure luck, we were able to attain third tier status and access to the Ardaya family's private box.
I explained about the wraiths in the Pass, about Winterfast and his grandson, and about the Suldan Stones (Damorin already knew since he had apparently read a letter of yours explaining the situation! You might have told me you were corresponding by muse, even through the Pass; that would have been very valuable information.) After digesting all of this information and putting all the pieces together, your father agreed that we needed more substantial evidence before taking action against Winterfast.
He also gave us a bit of shocking news which may be related somehow. Two assassination attempts have been made on the emperor's life in the past week, both within the warding restrictions of the Royal Residence. Someone who lives at the palace is trying to kill him.
The two attempts were foiled by members of the underground, thank goodness, but the timing was just too coincidental to dismiss without investigating. That's why your father went at a Bun-snigger event in the first place--without any other leads, he hoped to glean a snatch or two from the very hotbed of societal gossip. With the information I provided, we were able to leave the arena and make our plans.
Your father suggested that Ardaya tail Ben to see where he's going and who he's seeing. I itched to catch up with him myself, but knew that I wouldn't be able to keep myself concealed once I found him. Instead, your father assigned me to take a post in a little observation shack outside the Winterfast and Demestheln estates to keep an eye on things. We all agreed on a meeting time for the following morning to discuss our findings, then Ardaya and I left together.
To my surprise, he was more eager for his task than I was to mine. “Why the sudden zeal?” I asked, “I’d have thought you’d much rather go back to Cordy's estate and watch over her. I know how worried you are about her.”
“Of course I'm worried,” he replied, “She’s my ward. Not to mention the granddaughter of my late friend and mentor.”
“Yes, of course. But,” I said, after a pause, “she means more to you than that.”
He glanced at me, his face unreadable. We had spoken many times before, but never about something so private and I found his answer surprisingly unequivocal. “Am I that obvious?” he asked quietly.
“No, probably not. I just happen to be similarly afflicted so I know the signs.”
“Montphish’s daughter,” he stated.
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Interesting girl.”
“She is that…look, I’m sorry for imposing on your personal life.”
He waved away my apology. “We’ve always spoken freely since becoming acquainted and this is something I'm weary of keeping to myself anyway.” He looked around as if deciding which way to go. With a gleam in his eye that can best be described as feral, he mumbled a farewell before he clapped me on the back and disappeared. I think his dislike for Ben rivals even mine.
I briefly wrestled with the idea of knocking on Cordy's door again, but decided that might not be the most prudent course of action. Instead, I'm going to finish this letter, seal it, and have it sent to her with a plea to include it in her next delivery. I hope I've disclosed enough information to help you feel connected to what's happening here in the Realm. So far, all is peaceful and calm at Cordy's house (not surprising considering the security wards in place, which, by the way, remind me of a certain spell I saw you do near the magi tree at Seven Oaks where I first encountered your muse). I will write more tomorrow, after meeting with Ardaya and your father.
I hope you are well and that you're being responsible with both your freckles and my experiment chamber. I like knowing that you're in my home, safe and sound. I only wish I could be there, too.
Sincerely,
Sean Valerian
Friday, July 30, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
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!
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!
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