Awaken

by Tanya Schofield

Garen motioned for Tomal to step forward. “Captain, show Master Casius to Lord Ving’s finest room, and see that he wants for nothing. I will require his knowledge in the near future.”

  With a low bow for Garen and Ving, and another lingering, appreciative look at the squirming Kallisti, Casius followed Tomal out of the room.

  “He can be grating, my Lord, but he is useful.” Ving’s nervousness had not dissipated.

  “Leave us, Sedrick. The lady and I have some things to discuss.” The Chancellor, unsmiling, had eyes only for the frightened, miserable blonde.

  Ving briefly considered defending her honor, but the image Corben had relayed to him of the spirited young thief who had been led from his keep almost drooling on herself stopped his tongue.

  A week, he reminded himself on his way out the door. This would all be over. Just a week.

  26

  “Lich’s minions! Jovan, calm down.” Kaeliph had never seen his brother this upset, but he didn’t appreciate being kicked awake.

  “I am calm. Get dressed, we’re going to find her.”

  Kaeliph reached for his boots, shaking his head to clear some of the sleep from it. “She’s probably at the food tent, it’s about time she got hungry.”

  Jovan pointed. The bread and cheese they had left for her remained on the small table, and her intricately carved staff stood silent watch beside the newly purchased boots beside the bed.

  “Only her cloak is gone. This place terrifies her. Why didn’t she wake us?”

  Kaeliph had no answers, but then, he was still half asleep. There had been a dream, he remembered, a blonde with soft, eager lips—

  Jovan bodily lifted him to his feet the instant his boots were laced, and thrust his pack into his hands. “She is not safe here alone, Kaeliph.” He opened the door.

  “Answer me this then, brother,” said Kaeliph, refusing to be dragged out into the hallway until he had brushed the wrinkles from his shirt and adjusted his pack under his cloak to his satisfaction. “What do you feel from her?”

  Jovan stopped in the doorway, and Kaeliph took the moment to run his fingers through his close-cropped hair. It was getting too long, he thought. He’d have to cut it soon.

  “She’s not here.”

  Kaeliph nodded his agreement up at his older brother, and the smile crept back to the corner of his mouth. He never thought he’d see his brother so undone by a girl.

  “And if she was in any danger, you’d know. You’d feel it, exactly as you’ve felt it every other time. Right?”

  Jovan’s fierce determination faded. “Well…”

  “Whatever happened back in that tunnel, she gave you a gift beyond saving your life. You’re connected somehow, and I know you know it even if you don’t want to admit it. Just take a minute. Concentrate. What do you feel from her?”

  Jovan took a deep breath, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the wall beside the door. He closed his eyes and wrinkled his brow. A long minute passed, and he imagined he could hear her reassuring words in his mind.

  “She is safe,” he said. “She’s in no danger.”

  Kaeliph smiled. “No fear? No hurt?”

  His older brother opened his eyes. “No, brother. Only curiosity. She is fine.”

  “Then perhaps leave her to her own pursuits this day? We have things to do. I have no doubt that you will know the instant her mood changes.”

  Jovan was less than pleased with the idea, but he did not disagree.

  Kaeliph lowered his voice. “She is smart enough not to use her talents here, I think. But they will protect her if she needs it, at least until you get there.”

  “If she is not back by nightfall, I am tearing this city apart.” Jovan’s voice was also quiet, but undeniably serious. He hated not knowing where she was, but he would bear it. For now.

  Kaeliph nodded. “You’ll have my help, I swear it. But for now, let’s eat. Who knows, maybe we’ll run into her. You should clean up before we go, though. You look terrible.”

  “And I care?”

  Kaeliph glared at his brother. Jovan heaved a great mock sigh and made a show of combing his long black hair with his fingers, tying it back in its strip of leather, and picking bits of dust off of his well-worn shirt. “Am I pretty enough to be seen with you now, brother?”

  “You’re not my type, but you’ll do.” Kaeliph dodged Jovan’s attempt to ruffle his hair, and darted down the stairs.

  Impulsively, Kaeliph decided that he would sign up to fight the next day, but given his size and choice of weapons, he was directed to a different area than his larger, more straightforward brother. As he left the registration tent he spotted a man in a tattered gray cloak weaving through the crowds, obviously in a hurry to get somewhere. Could he be the same man from the alley? A bright giggle from one of the numerous ale tents spun his head, and Kaeliph put the thought of anything but the redheaded barmaid from his mind.

  Registration took Jovan little time, but he was in no hurry to get back to the Inn. He instead roamed the town, sizing up potential competition and keeping his eyes open for the Duke’s soldiers, and Melody. Especially Melody. What had she done to him? As much as he hated to admit it, Kaeliph was right – he would know if Melody were in any real trouble. She wasn’t.

  He let his feet wander while he strengthened his focus on Melody. He sensed only contentment from her. He also had a brief image of children, but that was probably due to him almost tripping over a few as he walked without paying attention.

  “Lovely for yer lady, lord?”

  Jovan found himself in the marketplace, and he blinked at the merchant who had spoken to him.

  “I’m sorry?”

  The man smiled, a huge grin showing all three of his teeth. “Lost in thoughts of her, I’d wager. I asked if ye’d like a lovely for yer ladyfriend. I’ve got the finest pieces anywhere, and that’s no lie.”

  Jovan looked. A selection of pendants and rings and bracelets were laid out on a board that had been covered with rough dark cloth.

  “Real silver that is, and a joy for any woman, make no mistake.”

  “I’m not—" He had been about to say he wasn’t interested. He had been about to walk away and leave the man and his teeth to entice the next gullible passerby, but it was as if some unseen hand had physically turned his head.

  There, on the end. It was not as delicate as most of the chains the man was offering, nor was it so thick as to be manly. A simple, sturdy silver chain, with an equally simple teardrop of silver – inset with polished amber so dark it was almost red. The stone was shot through with gold that caught the afternoon light and set the whole piece to glowing. Jovan thought immediately of Melody’s eyes, remembering the way they had shone that first morning in the Haven when she had her hair down…

  “You’re not sure which one she’d like, is that it, m’lord?” The merchant saw the huge man’s hesitation and took a deep breath to redouble his efforts. One sale this whole stinking week, if he didn’t get another he’d have wasted the trip.

  Jovan didn’t even let him start. “That one.” He pointed to the amber. “How much?”

  The merchant grinned again. This was his favorite part. Although… where had he gotten that piece? He didn’t remember, and he didn’t recognize it. Regardless, it was a sale. Who was he to question?

  “Ah, ye’ve a good eye, m’lord. That’s real amber, it is, and no easy task to find more like it…”

  Jovan picked up the pendant and held it before the merchant’s eyes. “How much?” he repeated, his tone quenching any thoughts the man might have of an extended haggling session.

  “Seventy-five silver and not a copper less, m’lord. I’m practically giving it away at that price.” Jovan produced the coins and handed them over, disliking how light his pouch felt afterward, but immensely satisfied as he put the chain with its silver and amber teardrop safely inside. “May it make yer lady happy, m’lord. Good day.”

  Jovan brought himself back to the ale tent, disregard
ing the redhead draped over his brother like a curvaceous blanket. There was gambling to be found if they were to replace what he had just spent, and Kaeliph was just the man to do it.

  “Sober up, brother. Come with me.”

  Kaeliph grinned up at him and wrapped his arms around the barmaid’s waist. She squirmed on his lap with a wide, lazy smile.

  “I’m not drunk on anything but beauty, brother. Can it wait?”

  Jovan looked at the redhead, whose grin slipped a little under his unsmiling gaze. She was suddenly quite certain there would be no extra profits made tonight, not from this one. “No.”

  Kaeliph frowned, but had seen that look in Jovan’s eyes enough to know that he should do as he was asked. “Sorry, my lovely, but duty calls.” Kaeliph’s lips lingered on the pale swell of her earlobe for a moment longer. “Don’t forget me, now.”

  The redhead slithered out of Kaeliph’s lap with a whispered invitation and a farewell kiss. She ducked around Jovan as if she was afraid he would bite her.

  Kaeliph stood, frowning at her back. “You know, brother, you have that effect on every female I know. Save one.”

  Jovan pretended he hadn’t heard. “How do you feel about gambling?”

  Kaeliph’s eyes lit up. Gambling was good. “I thought you’d never ask – although I don’t know where we’ll find anyone to take us up on it. Not after last night.”

  He needn’t have worried. One of the men Jovan had bested at arm strength the night before greeted them and introduced them to his companions – who refused to believe that their friend had been bested at anything. Before long they were back at the Inn, nursing deep mugs of ale and rowdily discussing the finer points of combat between tests of strength and skill and one very short – but lucrative – game of dice.

  Conversation turned to the tournament prize, which some of the men felt would not just be the gold listed on the posters. Duke Ving was old, past his prime of fighting anyway, and there were those who believed that the winner of this tournament was to be gifted his personal sword, a magical sword born in the days following the Lich King’s defeat. There were also plenty who believed that this rumor was a load of horse manure, and were more than willing to fight to settle the matter.

  When the dust had settled, Jovan and Kaeliph were a pouch or two richer, there were a few more broken chairs in the Inn, and full dark was upon the town. There was also no sign of Melody.

  Back in their room, Kaeliph wobbled a bit before sitting down heavily on the cot. It was no easy task to go ale for ale with men of Jovan’s size, though his older brother was showing no ill effects. “You’ve felt no fear from her, brother?”

  “None.” Jovan shook his head, more worried than he would let himself show. He was more than willing to tear the town apart to find her, but each time he turned his focus towards her, she’d been happy. Content. Pleased. “She’s happy, wherever she is.”

  Kaeliph puzzled over this. “Then should we really make trouble trying to find her, Jovan? The tournament begins at noon. Surely she will return by then. She may want to watch the fights.”

  “Doubtful,” Jovan replied. He sat and began to unlace his boots with a yawn.

  Kaeliph stretched out on the cot with a tremendous yawn of his own. “She will be fine, brother. Focus on the fighting to be done.”

  Jovan laid down by the door, wrapped up in his cloak. He could smell her on the fabric, like rain and flowers. He let his whole mind drift towards Melody, only partially comforted by her contentment. Where could she be? Why had she left? And why hadn’t she woken him? He fell asleep listening to her sing in his mind.

  27

  Melody woke alone in the darkened room. Soft murmurings and muffled laughter filtered down the hall to her ears, oddly comforting instead of terrifying. She stretched, down to her toes. She hadn’t felt this rested since the Haven. Slipping out of the warmth of the blankets, she padded up the hall, guiding herself with one hand on the wall. A glint of blue in the corner of her vision distracted her, and she turned to look more closely.

  There, near the bottom of the wall of the corridor – it was an opening. It was not large, but it was passable for a child or a crawling adult. The magic she detected must have been put in place to hide it, because there was no physical door, just the opening. Melody crouched and looked inside. It was too dark to really see anything, and the narrow passageway curved back on itself, but she got the impression of a rounded cave, and a feeling of safety. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like, having to hide all the time, needing places of safety underground. She left the magic alone, and continued on her way up to the main room.

  “Melody!” Rhodoban’s cheerful voice greeted her as she blinked in the sudden light, and a mug of something warm was pressed into her hand before she could fully see who had given it to her. When her sight cleared, she saw that the small, comfortable room was bursting at the seams with people, each with a blue haze around them. She recognized the three from the alley, looking much less intense, and there were others – lining the couches, sitting at the table, or down on the floor with the babies.

  Rhodoban? She took a step back and pressed herself against the door. She was overwhelmed, but not with fear, as such a crowd would normally awaken in her – she sensed no threat here, but the urge to run back to the bed was powerful.

  “You’re just in time, I was about to instruct young Pashu here in what I like to call Rhodoban’s Theory of Magical Balance.”

  Pashu was a tall young man of about Jovan’s age, clearly the youngest of the assembled - with the exception of Melody herself, who felt practically childlike in comparison.

  Aellielle appeared at Rhodoban’s side and sat down in his lap, playfully elbowing him in the stomach. “Rhodoban’s Theory indeed – husband, that would only work if the Elves hadn’t known of this truth long before you were a dream in your mother’s heart.”

  Rhodoban wrapped his arms comfortably around his wife’s waist and pulled her back against his chest. “Theory, truth, me, them … the fact remains, there must always be a balance. Pashu, like many of us, was raised amongst those who hate and fear what they don’t understand. He wonders perhaps if the stories he hears are true. Does the magic make him evil? Should he strive not to use the talents he has been given?”

  Melody found herself again entranced by Rhodoban’s lilting voice. She took a seat on the floor beside the fireplace to be warm, and to listen.

  “So first we address the issue of evil. Is a knife evil? A knife is a thing, neither good nor bad. The same knife that cuts the bread can be used to take the life of another, but the evil is not in the tool.”

  “Magic, then, is the same. Magic is simply the tool; it exists without the attachments of morality or politics. In answer to your question, young Pashu, I say no. The magic does not make you evil. That can only be determined by your actions. But as for whether or not you should use the talents you are given? That is the question that brings us to the heart of the issue facing this land.”

  Kedra crawled over to Melody and curled in her lap, once again wrapping her hand around Melody’s braid and yawning sleepily. Melody laid her cheek on the baby’s head, enthralled by Rhodoban’s words, no longer uncomfortable in the crowd.

  “Magic exists to be used, it is a gift that has been available to us since before time. Just as the knife does not disappear when we are not cutting bread, so too does the magic remain when we do not use it. But unlike that knife, the magic needs to be used. Like a river that will burst through the dam that blocks it if the water is not given outlets, unused magic pools, and swells, and waits. And this is dangerous enough, because when it has been so altered, and so blocked, the magic becomes unpredictable when it is finally tapped.”

  Aellielle slipped out of Rhodoban’s lap and gathered Kendon into her arms, moving to sit beside Melody.

  “But I offer you one more danger, and I will go back to my image of the knife. When we set the knife down and refuse to slice any more bread, when we
turn our back to the knife and tell ourselves that the knife is evil … what is to stop someone else from picking it up? And what if that someone else has no interest in bread, but is looking instead for a way to kill? The knife does not care what it is used for, so long as it is used.”

  Heads around the room were nodding in the fading firelight, and Melody found herself nodding right along with them. This was the idea she had sensed in the Haven, but could not put words to.

  “By eliminating anyone capable of channeling the magic, the powers that be are giving more and more power to the few who can, and not all of those few are interested in bread, if you understand my meaning.” Rhodoban frowned, disturbed by his own line of thought.

  “You have heard the rumors – undead are being seen in outlying areas, strange creatures are slaughtering herds at night. We are told the rumors are not true, the Lich King is dead and defeated and no longer a threat … but are we certain? Did the Five so long ago merely weaken him? Could the buildup of magic created by those who sought to ensure his reign was never repeated actually be the means by which he returns?”

  Silence filled the room, and it was not broken for a long moment.

  “Use your gifts, Pashu. All of you.” His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper. “Use them, and practice well, for the day may be coming when we alone will be able to resist what is coming.” It was a sobering thought, and no one had much to say.

  Aellielle nudged Melody, and the two of them carried the twins down to the big bed, tucking them under the blanket. Things had picked up when they returned, people were once again talking, and Aellielle produced her small harp from a wrapped bundle beneath a chair.

  “Shall we lighten the mood, sister?” She sat, smiling encouragement at Melody. When her fingers stroked the strings, the noise in the room faded away, until there was nothing but the music.

  Melody sang. She hadn’t meant to, at least she didn’t think so, but the instant she set her voice on top of the notes from Aellielle’s harp it was perfect. Another user, a man, joined in with his deeper voice, and the three sounds braided together – wordless and powerful. Others added their own magic, one after another.