Digging for Information
Chapter Seventeen
Welcome to The Children of Una series. Here’s a handy index of the published chapters.
In the last chapter, the High Mage and his acolytes approached the Elven city. But to the boy’s dismay, a fog cloaked the magnificent view. With permission from their Elven companions, Lewison used a wind spell to disperse it, exercising his newly-regained power, much to his nephew’s delight.
Lewison stood with Dimavure at his elbow, watching the boy. He saw his sister in that face. Specifically, in the delight into which Danen threw himself completely. Maudline had been that way at politics, at cards, at love. She had once possessed a thirst to be drunk with life. Lewison scowled at his mind’s use of the past tense. She’s always as free as she wants to be.
He knew a frown wrinkled up his face, but he couldn’t help it. He turned aside from the bright light that was Danen’s joy. He studied his farm-hand lad instead. Here was someone dependable. Someone whose magic remained appropriately subdued. It had been a good instinct that had made Lewison snatch the boy away from that obscure little farm and bring him along. Aster met his eye and didn’t waver. He knew what was expected of him for now, and he wouldn’t worry about the things he didn’t know.
Lewison’s gaze shifted to the distant figure of Wellenon. The Elf was approaching the shore, his wave gathering height as it prepared to lift him onto a rocky outcropping that overhung the sand. The water crashed down and seeped away over the rock face, leaving Wellenon dry and unencumbered as he entered the city.
Lewison’s eyes narrowed.
He’d thought Dimavure was the one he had to keep close; now he realized, too late, the Council might have sent both Elves to spy on him. Smart, he conceded. That way if one got tied up here with me, the other would still be free to take messages.
Still, he didn’t think either Elf possessed the type of affinity capable of uncovering all the secrets Lewison wanted to keep to himself for the present. He’d have to hope that whatever Wellenon was going to report was information he could capitalize on later.
Their ship drew alongside the dock and the crew was occupied with the bustling business of making her fast. The process would take a good half-hour. Lewison herded the boys back to the cabin to gather their things in the meantime. Danen was like a wound-up mechanical toy.
He slung his leather satchel of books and personal possessions over his shoulder and bounded from corner to corner of the small cabin, talking about the impressive Elven city. He almost left his tall boots in the box when they were ready to go, and then Lewison had to send him back for his cloak because he’d been using it as a second blanket and it was still in his bunk.
Aster and Lewison stood next to the gangplank, watching a party of Elves approach their ship from the far end of the dock. One of them was a Lady, wearing multiple layers of gauzy silk to protect her fair skin from the sun. She was escorted by a Lord Lewison did not recognize, which was rather unusual since he’d had dealings with every Council member during his tenure as High Mage.
A lordling, then, not yet initiated into the Elven court? He mused. The Council are trying their best to remove my advantages, it would seem.
Danen barreled across the deck and arrived at the gangplank breathless with excitement. His cloak was tucked under one arm with the toe of a boot sticking out at the same elbow, his other boot and the strap of his satchel in his other hand, apparently having had some difficulty carrying it all at once. Aster’s gape would’ve been a wordless reproof, had Danen noticed it.
He beamed up at his uncle and declared, “I’m ready now.”
“I hope so,” Lewison said sardonically. “Because we’re about to present ourselves to a family of high birth. Dimavure mentioned the Perronet family. A family I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting before today.”
It irked Lewison that he could say no more, with Dimavure politely hovering near them. He wanted to impress on the boy that they needed to move with caution. It was doubtful Danen would pick up on such subtlety.
“How should we introduce ourselves?” Aster followed Lewison’s gaze with appropriate sobriety.
“Allow me to do the talking,” Lewison said, fixing Danen with a reproachful eye.
Danen smothered his grin. “Yes, Uncle Lew.”
Lewison gathered his things and stepped onto the gangplank to lead the way. “That’s High Mage to you, young man.”
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Lady Amadeah Perronet gazed at the Human child. He was as an infant in her eyes.
But unlike most Humans, he was pulsing with magic energy unlike anything she’d ever felt. His emotions emanated greed, passion, and inquisitiveness. She felt a pity for how his lack of any barrier between himself and his surroundings left him vulnerably open to suggestion. It would be terribly simple to reach inside that mind and twist it into any shape of her choosing; it was squirming with activity, completely bared. She withdrew her mental touch with disgust.
“May I present my mother, Lady Amadeah,” Igneous was saying.
Her son angled his shoulders to include her in the small circle of Humans and Elves gathered on the dock. Lady Amadeah watched the High Mage bow respectfully, the children mimicking his gesture. He extended a hand and gripped her fingertips warmly, in the Human manner. His robes were appropriately demure; they clearly denoted his station as High Mage while remaining bereft of ornamentation that might attempt to insinuate his station was equal to the Elves’. She dipped her chin approvingly and graced him with one of her rare smiles.
“Welcome to Castlease,” she said, her eyes sweeping to include all three Humans in her greeting. “We are honored to serve as your hosts. I was told you had to make a swift departure from the south and have brought almost no possessions. Have no fear; you have only to ask and all shall be provided by our household.”
“You have our deepest gratitude,” Lewison replied.
With the formalities behind them, Lady Amadeah and her son led the party to the shore where a carriage was waiting for them. She herself was carried separately in a silk-curtained litter. Bidding her guests make themselves comfortable, she lingered outside the carriage with her son.
He looked a question, and she acquiesced wordlessly, accepting Igneous’ offer of his hearing. Reclining within the litter, Lady Amadeah listened to the others’ conversation through her son’s ears as their vehicles moved slowly through the city.
“Are all the trees alive in your city?” the child was asking.
She heard the High Mage laugh nervously before deftly turning the conversation. “My nephew has had a rather limited education among the farmers of the south. I’ve not had much time to remedy that shortcoming. Which reminds me that I need to ask, Lord Igneous, whether the Council has received any missives for me from King Mervin?”
“All communications will be sent to our home, my Lord. You will have them, if there are any, as soon as we arrive.” Igneous’ reply was polite but the rather distant phrasing was chosen to convey that he was not designated as a personal go-between for the High Mage and the Elven Council.
Let the man muse on that for awhile, she thought and smirked. Let him wonder what our connection to the Council may be.
“I must confess I was surprised to meet your august mother on the docks, Lord Igneous. She does us a great honor, coming in person.”
Lady Amadeah’s eyes narrowed. Have I met him before?
The High Mage continued. “Is Lady Amadeah not the famed dream mage who foretold the coming of the Daemonkind?”
Igneous’ tone did not betray that he was impressed. But even Lady Amadeah wondered how the man knew her story. Her son chose his response with the care that had earned him his place.
“My mother was that child, as has been told in poetry and song by our people for so many centuries that it is difficult for me to recognize the heroine of legend when I behold my mother’s face. Yet it is an honor to have the remembrance of her courage still named among Humans.”
“It was not among Humans that I heard the tale, unfortunately.” She heard the High Mage’s theatrical sigh. “My race are still prejudiced enough to treat your people’s history and art with equal negligence. It was among the scrolls of your majestic library that I first encountered the poems of Lord Egrit.”
“Will you tell me how you discovered the true name of Egrit’s ‘lovely Dreamer’?”
Lady Amadeah winced. Her son was too eager.
Lord Lewison Coblaine dissembled. He praised the artistry of the poet. He told an amusing anecdote about the occasion he’d had the privilege of meeting Lord Egrit, prior to his death. But whether he was told Amadeah’s name by the poet or discovered it for himself through some other means, the High Mage would not say.
Ask him about the other boy, she told her son. The quiet one.
Igneous wove and laced his words with the grace of a master orator until the topic was the arrival of the Sukeena’s Breath. Danen exclaimed that he was going to learn the water-riding spell Wellenon had used to assist the ship and disembark. Lewison reminded him he was supposed to listen and learn, not tell fantastical stories. Amadeah sensed the anxiety behind the man’s rebuke. He didn’t have control of the boy; he wasn’t used to not being able to control people. She smiled to herself.
“There is much to learn, indeed,” Igneous agreed. “But you should not miss the opportunity to ask questions, while you are here. Magic is the gift of the Elves, after all.”
There was a pause. Lady Amadeah did not doubt the High Mage was scrambling to think of a way to politely dismiss Igneous’ suggestion that the child talk directly to the Elves. Igneous’ next comment successfully shifted the focus to the other acolyte.
“You don’t say much,” He addressed the other boy. “There is wisdom in that. But we Perronets value every guest equally, no matter their station. I hope you will be comfortable among us, as well, young man.”
“This is Aster Anderson,” Lewison said pointedly.
Lady Amadeah refrained from gasping aloud by covering her mouth. An Anderson! The man has no restraint! The gall —”
“Well, and welcome,” Igneous extended the hospitable greeting without a moment’s hesitation. “Aster, tell me something of yourself.”
It was not a request, and the High Mage allowed it.
“Thank you, my lord. Very gracious of you,” the child said, fumbling through his bashfulness. “I’m just a farmer; was a farmer, that is.”
“Among the Elves, those who tend plants nurture the whole community. We do not count those with the gift of growing things as just farmers. You have as honorable a place among us as your young friend here.”
“Thank you, sir,” the boy said with true humility.
“Having said that, I recognize you have chosen a different occupation than farming the land. You wish to become a mage?” Igneous pressed.
Lady Amadeah could not see the expression the boy was making, but she heard how the High Mage’s interruption was meant to tuck his secrets away just as they were about to be exposed.
“His father was glad to give the boy the opportunity to live at a higher station, and I didn’t blame the lad for not having a strong opinion either way. I’ll confess I pressured him to come along; he’ll most likely thank me for it some day.”
He laughed, but the brittle sound only intensified the tension instead of relieving it. It was at that moment the other child inserted himself into the conversation. Lady Amadeah didn’t doubt he’d begun to feel left out and was impulsively drawing attention to himself.
“I didn’t get to choose whether I wanted to come along, either. My father thinks I’m a half-Elvish bastard.”
The High Mage cleared his throat at an abrasive volume.
Fortunately for him, their carriages slowed to a halt before the conversation could be picked up by the foolish child. Lady Amadeah emerged from her litter and paused to tidy her draping clothing while she observed the carriage passengers disembarking. Igneous released his auditory connection with her now that she could hear for herself.
The Andersen boy stepped down first, followed by the High Mage. He practically dragged his nephew out of the carriage by the collar, masking the gesture by draping the boy’s cloak around his shoulders and patting his unruly hair down. Igneous climbed out last, and motioned toward the open door of their mansion, inviting everyone to enter together.
Lady Amadeah nodded to her son.
It was time to stop digging and let their guests grow comfortable again. It would be easy enough to breach their guard when they were once more feeling sedate.
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Dear Reader,
Now we've met some real conniving Elves (hehe). But seriously, what would be the fun of having extremely powerful magic-using characters if you can't make them a little scary too? These are not Tolkienesque, altruistic seekers of goodness and light. Will they turn out to be the antagonists of the story, do you think?
Cheers~
LL