Mentioning State Secrets in Passing
Chapter Fourteen
Welcome to The Children of Una series. Here’s a handy index of the published chapters.
In the last chapter, Danen accidentally healed himself and caused a stir. The captain summoned two Elves to assist. Dimavure and Wellenon helped Lewison discover the source of his strange sickness. But Lewison was unsettled by their unfortunate discovery of Danen’s odd magic, as well.
As Lewison’s body was cleansed from the curse’s effects, his awareness of the magical activity around him was no longer dimmed. His nephew and acolyte were like twin embers burning low on a hearth. Dimavure’s companion was discreetly examining them with a spell Lewison doubted the boys were even aware of. That is, he had hoped they’d remain unaware. But Danen’s magic answered the Elf’s spell like dry kindling, and Lewison realized he’d been foolish to think he could hide the boy’s strange power from the Elves. Not when Danen persisted in feeding his unrestrained curiosity.
Dimavure immediately dampened Danen’s erratic power, but the nature of it had been revealed to both Elves already. Lewison gritted his teeth. Much diplomatic leverage had just slipped out of his hands.
“The boys are clean of contamination,” Dimavure’s Elven friend assured him. “How are you feeling, my Lord Coblaine?”
“I am fine,” Lewison growled, pushing Dimavure’s hands aside. It was time to take control. Eyes flashing, he surveyed the room for the first time in many days. “It was a curse, you say?”
It was unnecessary to press for information. He knew he’d be recovering swiftly now, thanks to these Elven healers. But Lewison was unwilling to relinquish his authority to them. From their robes, he could tell they did not belong to noble households. As expected, they responded to the ring of command in his voice. Dimavure inclined his head and began with a formal introduction.
“Lord Coblaine, forgive the intrusion. I am one Dimavure, a healer of the moon temple; and my companion is an acolyte of the rain, Wellenon. Your captain sent an urgent message to the Council this afternoon. We were dispatched at once — myself, because the report said you were sick, and Wellenon, because he is a swift water-rider.”
Dimavure paused, his gaze shifting ever-so-slightly toward the corner of the room where the boys stood, anxiously looking on.
Lewison’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
“There was not time for the Council to compose a proper request. However,” Dimavure glanced at the boys again, swallowing hard. “I do not doubt that you are able to anticipate the Council’s concerns. They did not wish to jump to conclusions without hearing your explanation in person, but they did ask me to impress upon you the potentially devastating results of dissimulation.”
“Very well,” Lewison said. He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Thank you for healing me, Dimavure. We will speak further in the morning after I’ve rested. Please commend to the captain my thanks for his quick thinking; I was in dire need of your assistance.”
With that, the Elves were dismissed and Lewison left alone with his acolytes. The boys drifted nearer, walking on tip toe. Frustration and amusement warred in Lewison.
“I’m not that frail.” Lewison chuckled. He fixed Danen with a wry smirk. “What did you do this time?”
Danen grinned back, completely unperturbed.
But it was Aster who answered. And his expression was grave. “Danen was doing Elven magic again. A healing spell. The whole crew knows.”
Lewison groaned. It was worse than he’d imagined. His frustration flamed hotter. “What am I to do with you, boy? Do you have any clue? Because I know I don’t.”
Danen shrugged, turning petulant. “Don’t blame me. It’s not like I was trying to heal my blisters! It happened by accident.”
“While he was manipulating water . . .” Aster added. He knew, as Danen apparently did not, that water channeling was one of the primary methods of physical healing among Elven mages. No wonder the captain himself had been alarmed enough to get involved.
Lewison’s mouth fell open, showing his crooked, yellow teeth. His brows knit themselves in a fit over his beaked nose. “Healing magic? And ‘on accident’! How am I supposed to explain that, eh?”
Tossing aside the blankets, Lewison swung his legs over the side of the bed. Aster helped pull him up by his elbow, and Danen belatedly moved to offer assistance as well. Lewison shrugged them off, straightening as he hobbled across the floorboards to snatch a thick robe off a hook near the door. Shrugging his arms into it, Lewison gathered himself. He would have to be patient with his nephew. It was obvious he needed to inspire the boy with a sense of responsibility. But that didn’t mean he’d go easy on his sister’s son. Whirling to face the boys, he fixed on Danen a withering look.
Lewison extended one bony finger to point at the dining table. “Sit.”
Danen sulked, but obeyed. Aster wavered like a wind-blown reed, but dared not act on his own initiative. Lewison ignored him for the moment. He had found he could depend upon Aster to read the subtext of an interaction and keep his thoughts to himself.
Seating himself at the head of the table, Lewison placed his elbows on it’s rough surface and rested his chin atop laced fingers. Danen shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny; Lewison let him. After several long minutes of silence, the High Mage drew breath. Simple was best.
“I haven’t been as forthright as I could’ve about your ability. Like the arrogant, self-possessed old fool I am, I thought I could manage everyone’s expectations and pull the right strings to make things play out as I saw fit. Yet there I was, afflicted with a soul curse and none the wiser. I truly thought I was suffering the worst case of sea-sickness known to man!”
Lewison stopped to shake his head at his own foolishness. It was all so obvious now.
Danen opened his mouth, but the High Mage lifted a hand to forestall his questions.
“Even I don’t know how such a curse came to be placed upon me, so don’t ask. For the present, I wish only to speak of what concerns you, Danen. Let me paint a picture for you.”
Lewison leaned back in his chair and pointed at the empty space above the tabletop. A shimmer of magic emanated from his fingertip and wafted over to float in front of Danen’s wide eyes. It shifted and melded to depict what Lewison was describing.
“Imagine a world where every Human person is like a clay pot. Some pots are filled with good, common dirt. Excellent for gardening; not suited to storing magic power.” Lewison glanced at Aster in amusement. “You should’ve been quite ordinary, but you have an Elf for an ancestor and that tends to upend expectations.”
Lewison returned to the image on the table. “Other pots are hollow; the perfect vessels for magic. The deeper the pot, the greater its capacity. Each pot is different, but all empty pots hold magic to some extent. Then along comes you, boy.” Lewison’s deep-set eyes rested on Danen. “You are an empty pot, for sure. But instead of holding a limited, reasonable amount of magic power, you manage to be more like a water spigot. Whereas most clay pots get tipped over and spill out a predetermined amount, you tip over and out flows an ocean. It never stops, and where it comes from is anyone’s guess.”
“I’m more like an Elf than a human?” Danen asked, studying the image of water gushing endlessly from the small clay vase.
Lewison nodded. “In many ways your magic is like an Elf’s — intuitive, flowing unhindered, possessing vast potential — but you are quite human. For those trained to perceive it, a human mage’s root is easy to pick out and even measure. When I look closely at yours, Danen, it looks no different from Aster’s. You both appear to have an average source of magic power pooling within you over time, no different than almost every other mage out there.”
Lewison’s heavy sigh prevented Danen from taking that last as a challenge. “But then you do things like transmute water molecules into a mist of oxygen, heal yourself with water, shoot from here to there with a thought . . . it just doesn’t add up.” Lewison shook his head, then broke off the magic imagery.
“That’s why Kalaran thinks I have an Elven father.” Danen’s expression darkened. “But, Uncle Lew, if that was true I wouldn’t be the first half-elf. Is my magic typical for one?”
“With half-bloods it’s always a toss up. But those with Human roots tend to function like Human mages. The difficulty with you is you appear to have a Human root, but there’s obviously more to it than that, because of the types of spells you can do.”
Danen slumped. “Elven spells.”
Lewison frowned. “I wanted to keep your abilities a secret, for the time being. It would’ve been nice to have figured out what is going on before having a bunch of Elven Council members looking over my shoulder. But thanks to your impetuosity and that damned soul curse, the secret’s out.”
Danen jut out his chin. “Are you in trouble because of me? I thought the High Mage didn’t answer to anyone!”
“I don’t answer to anyone. The High Mage must remain as neutral as possible in order to serve the needs of everyone. But that’s just a fancy way of saying it’s my job to keep everybody happy.”
Danen winced.
“The Elves won’t be very pleased when I tell them I’m making you my successor. But leave that to me, boy. I’ve got more in my beard than they’ll ever comb out. Politics are just a matter of knowing when to share your secrets, and when to reveal your opponent’s.”
“In your beard?” Danen grinned, watching Lewison absentmindedly raking his fingers through his long, greying beard.
“Not literally.” Lewison coughed. “It’s a figure speech. Now! To bed with the both of you. We’ll be busy on the morrow, if I know Elves.”
Lewison slapped his hands down onto the table and stood, fixing a raised eyebrow on the boys until they scurried to their bunks. Then he strode to the door and threw it wide. “I’m starving!”
Once the door had closed behind him, Danen sat up in bed. “Ow!” he said, striking his head on the upper bunk again. He leaned out to call up to the other boy.
“Aster, did he say ‘successor’?”
Dear Reader,
Finally! Somebody tells Danen something straight for once!
Have you ever hidden anything in your beard? I’d like to see a good example of that, sometime. It’s a very under-appreciated solution to the fairly common problem of needing an unexpected place to keep a secret. Like an extra house key. Or a love note.
Cheers~
LL