Shareis grabbed her pack and the two followed him. He stopped. “I think this is far enough.”
She tilted her head in confusion. “You aren’t sure?”
With a wave of Dailen’s hand, a wooden hut with a skin roof faded into view.
“Home is where the heart is.”
Her mouth hung open in astonishment. “This was here all along?”
He shrugged. “More or less. It depends on how you see things.”
His carefree attitude on the location of his own house confused her, but she was not inclined to argue, especially after the soothing warmth of his home enveloped her. She expected a rustic interior, and yet was completely surprised by what she saw. Her eyes surveyed the cluttered space, noting a stone fireplace, bookcases, and plush furniture. A beautiful red rug covered most of the floor, and oversized oak desk and leather chair provided a workspace any writer would envy.
“This… this is incredible,” she said. “This isn’t the same… building, is it?”
“Yes, it is. Oh, what is on the exterior doesn’t matter. In this climate, we spend most of our time indoors. I want that time to be special.” He walked behind the desk and put his hands on the back of the chair. “I admit, my indulgence for creature comforts is a bit excessive, but it helps me think.”
“About the mystery?”
Dailen laughed. “You are delightful.”
He sat on a couch facing the flames and motioned to two mushroom-shaped stools near the hearth. “A taste of home for you, Niv’leana?”
“How did you know I lived in the Jeweled Woods?”
Dailen smiled. “Don’t they sit well? I like them, myself.” He pointed to two brown mugs of hot chocolate resting on a silver tray on the hearth. “And there is your chocolate.”
She handed Shareis a mug and took a sip from hers. “Not too hot, not too cold. Just right. And this chocolate…”
Dailen nodded. “The world is full of mysteries, Niv’leana. Dedicating your life to studying them is a noble cause. But no matter how spellbound we are to this cause, we should never neglect a good cup of hot chocolate. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I hadn’t given it much thought, but now that you mention it, yes.”
Dailen pointed to the tray. “Shareis, you may find those shortbread cakes to your liking.”
She handed Shareis a small plate with several pieces. A bite brought a warm smile to Shareis’s face. “My favorite dessert. How did you know?”
“Most Proctors like them, do they not?”
“Indeed. My mother used to make these.” Shareis handed one to her. “Do you want to try one?”
Layers of honey and shortbread delighted her pallet. “This is delicious.”
“I think so.” Dailen motioned around the room. “I also am a student of cultures all around the world, and thus collect objects from all different civilizations.”
“Impressive,” Shareis said.
“You are very kind,” she said. “But time is short, so I should tell you why I’m here.”
“You need no reason. We welcome your visit.”
“I appreciate that. But this is more than just a social call. We need your help.”
“Vorea, I presume?”
“Yes. Do you know what she has done?”
“She had been seduced by the most alluring mistress of state—power. Such is the way of the Ael’Shanar.”
“We need your help to stop her.”
Dailen set down his mug on a table beside the couch. “We will not fight the Ael’Shanar.”
“The situation is quite dire,” Shareis said.
“I’m sure it is.” He sighed. “This is the inevitable outcome of using magic to meddle in the affairs of others. This seed was planted long ago.”
“If she is not stopped, she’ll take over Lahara and possibly the whole continent,” Shareis said.
“We are protected here in the hills. She will not attack the Den’tari.”
“Her hunger for power knows no bounds,” she said.
Dailen leaned closer. “We fought the Ael’Shanar centuries ago. It was a costly engagement, on both sides. My people are not inclined to rekindle that conflict.”
“Are you bound by a treaty?” Shareis asked.
“No. We have a far more restrictive noose around our necks. Common sense.”
“I understand your concern—”
“No, Niv’leana, you do not,” Dailen interrupted. “I mean you no disrespect, but you are just beginning your studies. You haven’t the faintest idea why I do not wish to reignite the flames that almost consumed us.”
She looked down at her mug. “I am worried about you.”
Dailen smiled. “I know. And I respect that. You are very powerful, Niv’leana – I think even powerful enough to defeat Vorea. But you lack wisdom and experience.”
“She is not much older,” she replied.
“I know, but she also spent years studying the arcane. Your studies were of nature, of life, and imagination. It takes both, my dear.”
“Then I suppose I will have to learn.”
Dailen slapped the arm of the couch. “Indeed. And, with your permission, I will be your teacher.”
“That sounds fine, Dailen, but we don’t have long,” she said. “Vorea is seizing power by the day.”
“And so are you. We will hurry, but we will not rush. There is a difference.”
“I gladly accept any assistance you can provide me.”
“I have already prepared arrangements for you and your wife. When you are done with your hot chocolate, I will show you to your hut.”
“Shareis is not my wife,” she corrected.
Dailen looked confused. “Oh, my, I am sorry.” He rubbed his forehead. “Timelines tend to run together for me sometimes. Alright, I will make Shareis a separate hut.”
She took Shareis’s hand. A surge of self-assuredness washed over her. “We are more than friends.”
“Well, then perhaps I wasn’t too far off. Alright, the same hut it is.” He pointed to their cups. “Drink up, ladies. I think you’re going to enjoy your accommodations.”
Chapter 40
Frasie timidly knocked on Farius’s door.
“He won’t hear that,” Aiden said.
Farius’s deep voice carried through the doorway. “You may enter.”
Frasie promptly stuck out her tongue at him.
Sweet incense filled his lungs as she entered Farius’s dimly lit room. He sat on the floor with his legs crossed. “How may I help you two?”
“These candles are beautiful,” Frasie said.
“I have found no illumination more contemplative than light thrown from a candle.”
“That means you like them, right?” Frasie asked.
Farius nodded. “Indeed.”
“I understand you are busy, Farius, but Cadrin would like to meet with all of us in his study,” he said. “It’s quite urgent.”
“I know. Lahara is in danger.”
“It is,” Frasie said. “How did you know?”
“The drums of war have been beating ever since Niv’leana put on the Amulet of Balance. Vorea knows where she is and is getting worried.”
“I think we can give them a fair fight,” he said.
“Perhaps.” Farius stood. “Let’s see what Cadrin has in mind.”
Farius started to leave, then stopped to blow out the candles, one by one. There were dozens, so it took a while. After he finished, he flashed them both a thin smile.
“I must remember to thank Cadrin for letting me wax on with my affinity for candles.”
She rolled her eyes. “Back in the Jeweled Woods, we call that a dad joke.”
“Is that good?” Farius asked.
She grinned. “Not exactly. But I’m glad to see you feel well enough to attempt it.”
Farius sighed. “I can think of no better way to honor my departed wife than to indulge her longstanding wish that I improve my sense of humor.”
“W
e will rescue Maeva,” he said. “And your sense of humor.”
Farius bowed. “I am eternally grateful.”
They made their way to the study, where they found Cadrin smoking a pipe. He set it down at greeted them. “Hello Aiden and Frasie.” He extended his hand to Farius. “Glad to see you up and about.” He held a leather pouch. “Care for some tobacco?”
“No thank you,” Farius replied.
Cadrin took another puff on his pipe. “I need it. It calms my nerves. Our little sleuth Frasie has uncovered a plot to invade Lahara.”
“Surely you knew this would come,” Farius said.
Cadrin sighed. “I suppose I was living in denial.”
Frasie uncomfortably shifted.
“Do you know their strength?” Farius asked.
“No,” she replied. “I think they’re having recruitment problems. Drox is just waiting for Vorea to give the word. He has a way to communicate with her.”
“Ormond and I have been making explosive weapons,” he said. “But that won’t do much if they use magic against us.”
Cadrin looked at Farius. “Do you think it will be enough?”
Farius sat on the edge of Cadrin’s desk. “You know your people better than I.”
“I don’t doubt our resolve. But we won’t stand a chance against thousands of men, siege equipment, and battle mages. We need your help, Farius.”
“And you shall have it,” he replied. “But I am but one man.”
“One man with incredibly strong magic,” Cadrin added.
“Maybe the Den’tari could tip the scales in our favor,” he said.
Farius looked out the window. “Even if Niv’leana has convinced them to help, it will take her several days to return.”
Frasie wrung her hands. “I don’t think we have that long.”
“Can you make it there by nightfall?” Cadrin asked Farius.
Farius nodded. “Yes, in my owl form.”
Frasie bounced anxiously. “With her magic, Farius’s magic, Aiden’s expulsions—"
“Explosions,” he corrected.
“Yea, those, my new bow, and everyone pitching in, we’ll defeat them easily!”
Farius headed for the door. “I’ll leave immediately.”
Aiden made his excuses and followed Farius into the hallway. Farius looked at him with concern. “What troubles you?”
He paused to reply until there was more distance between them and the door to the study. “There is something you should know about Frasie’s information.”
“I trust it is reliable,” Farius said.
“Yes, but some of it comes from a conversation overheard between Narelle and Drox.” He stopped and lowered his voice. “She’s cheating on Cadrin.”
Farius sighed. “That is most unfortunate.”
“The conversation seemed to indicate that she was trying to protect Lahara. But I am concerned. How well do you know Narelle?”
Farius rubbed his beard. “Not well. I have always sensed something different about her. I know she has magic, but there’s something else. She doesn’t feel like a typical human.”
“Feel?” he asked.
“When you become attuned to the subtle energies around us, you notice everyone has a certain energetic signature. Most humans who possess magical talent are from the Ael’Shanar. Their discipline and training are evident.”
“But Narelle is not from the Ael’Shanar, is she?”
“No. I have always wondered if she cloaks herself behind a glamor.”
“I apologize – I do not know anything about magic. A glamor?”
“A magic spell to hide or transform your appearance.”
“Do you think she will betray us?”
“Have Frasie follow her again. It’s difficult to tell true intent from just one conversation.”
He nodded. “I’ll tell her, then head to Ormond’s and finish preparations.”
“Be safe, Aiden. I will be back as soon as I can.”
Chapter 41
Niv and Shareis followed Dailen. He stopped less than a hundred paces from his home and pointed directly ahead of them.
“This one will do nicely.”
Nothing but barren snow, illuminated by purple and orange hues from the setting sun, laid before them. The light was dim, and the shadows of dusk played tricks on her vision.
“There’s nothing here,” Niv said.
“Our magic shrouds it,” Dailen replied. “However, you may still feel its presence.”
She took a step forward and scanned the area again. “Feel?”
“Magic can fool the eyes, but not the mind. Do you sense anything?”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Something was off, but she couldn’t identify it. “I would have to meditate.”
“That is not necessary,” Dailen said.
She stood next to Shareis and gazed ahead of them. “Nothing. Shareis, do you see it?”
Shareis drew her dagger and held it at arm’s length, pointing it away from her right hand and perpendicular to the ground.
Dailen smiled. “You feel it, don’t you?”
“I do,” Shareis replied. “Your glamor magic is strong.”
Dailen nodded. “Glamors are a specialty of ours.”
“Am I the only one?” she asked. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You simply haven’t encountered this kind of magic yet. Do not be discouraged. I doubt there is any magical task outside your reach. You are, after all, the most powerful sorceress. You already have the gift of second sight.” He pointed to her backpack. “Take out your journal and write.”
“How did you know about my journal?” she asked.
“After years of practice, one who studies the mystery becomes quite adept at sensing the magical fingerprint of others. The power of logomancy stirs within you.” Dailen extended his right hand and waved his other hand above it. A swirl of magical energy coalesced into a fountain pen. “I indulge in the art myself from time to time.” He handed her the pen. “Try it.”
She took his pen, sat down on the ground, then found a blank page in her journal and began to write whatever came to mind.
She waved her hand, dispelling any magic before her. The lesser spells melted away, bearing the true fabric of reality. A small hut stood just a few paces away from her. Rocks circled its entrance, nestling the warm glow of a hearth. It was far from imposing, yet something about the structure told her enemies that she, and her allies, were safe within its protective walls.
She saw nothing before her. She stood and showed Dailen her journal.
“What a beautiful spell, Niv’leana. It will work nicely.”
“I wrote a spell?” she asked.
“Any form of clairvoyance is merely the art of illuminating the path before us. Our magic is cast as we follow the footsteps of fate. You have seen what you need to do.”
Dailen’s words stirred whispers of arcane knowledge deep within her soul. Each glimpse he offered into the philosophy of magic taught her more about herself and her abilities. The question was no longer should she wave her hand. Regardless of her gesture, the mind would do the work.
She suppressed her doubt and motioned over the empty snowfield, envisioning Dailen’s glamor magic being washed away by her hand. The hut, precisely as she had envisioned it while writing, faded into view.
Dailen clapped. “Excellent!” He motioned toward the door. “After you, ladies.”
They proceeded inside and were greeted by a warm, yet completely empty room. She was grateful for the hidden source of heat and illumination.
“It’s empty,” Shareis observed.
“Our homes are our sanctuaries,” Dailen replied. “We are quite particular about our surroundings when we are not out and about in the world. This is your home while you stay with us, and thus its contents are entirely up to you.”
“We only need bedrolls,” Shareis said. “Since we have those, all we require is a warm, dry, empty space. This will do ni
cely.”
Dailen chuckled. “Leave it to the Proctor to give such a utilitarian answer.” He walked around the room. “The possibilities of what you can do with this space are limitless. You can not only decorate your home however you wish, but you can create an environment that seems larger than this building. You can even alter the flow of time.”
“As you can see, the possibilities are limited only by your imaginations. Our homes are spelled to be responsive to the intentions of its owner.”
She could wrap her mind around altering perceptions but changing the flow of time was tinkering with the cogs of reality at a cosmic scale. She tilted her head in bewilderment as she processed this information.
She decided to focus on a more tangible activity. “How do we shape this environment?”
“Since you are already adept in the use of magic, you should have no difficulty shaping it to suit you. Use your imagination and manifest your thoughts.”
Dozens of possibilities flooded her mind. She closed her eyes and visualized the bed from her home in the Jeweled Woods. She focused on it with great intent, then opened her eyes. Before her was her bed in every detail that she remembered. She ran her hand along the quilt that Mae had sewn for her.
“Impressive,” Dailen said. “I knew you would catch on quickly.”
“Is it really the bed from my childhood home?”
“Your original bed is still there. This is a replica.”
She cradled a pillow in her arms. “It even smells like home.”
“Surely you desire something more than your bed,” he said.
“It has been a tiresome journey,” Shareis said. “A warm bed is most welcome.”
“The Jeweled Woods are a beautiful location,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be lovely to recreate that atmosphere in your room?”
“You can do that?” she asked.
“You can. You could sleep outdoors if you like. Close your eyes and imagine a tranquil scene in the woods.”
She pictured her favorite spot in late summer twilight. Fireflies flittered while mushrooms offered their subtle glow against the multicolored overhead canopy. Light from the brightest stars pierced through the spaces in the trees above, adding to the delicate mix of natural illumination.
She opened her eyes. The walls and ceiling had completely vanished, giving way to a astonishingly accurate representation of the imagery in her mind. Crickets sang their last song of the summer while pleasing smells of vegetation, wood bark, and moss filled her lungs.
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