At Theriole that week, the Lady Rey seemed to be functioning in high gear every moment, as the details of welcoming and housing so many visiting dignitaries, planning entertainment and menus for their comfort, and smoothing the feathers of those who had complaints about one thing and another fell upon her slight shoulders. After her brief, restorative escape, she felt better able to cope with it all, and handled herself with grace and easy diplomacy. During the few slower moments, she was thinking of the meeting itself, of what she might say and do and what might happen there. She was also keeping a weather eye out for her little sister, regretting that they had last parted on a sour note, and wanting to be sure all was forgiven. But they never seemed to cross paths, and, oddly, no one seemed to have seen her – or Mark either, for that matter. Since there was no time to go searching, Rel had to give up and trust that opportunity would be provided at the right time. Nights, which were starting later and later, she spent on the roof with Tashroth, in the clear, comfortable spring air, fragrant with early blooms. They sat up long into the quiet hours talking of what the day had brought, and what was to come. From this she took strength and courage for the next day’s demands. Even Tashroth, as solid and wise and unflappable as he usually was, seemed somewhat agitated with the overcrowding of the palace, and the anticipation of the big event. Sometimes, it was Jorelial who calmed him, bringing his thoughts back to the present moment, and keeping a sense of humor about every aspect of their situation.
On Thursday, as things were beginning to shape up at the house, and Tvrdik was contemplating whether he should move in that evening or wait another day, he had two surprises. Just after noon, as he and Stewart were clearing some underbrush from around the main entrance and gate, a strange little melody drifted through the air to his ear. He stood up where he was, very still, and listened. There it was again – someone whistling a tune, followed by what sounded like a splash. At the moment he remembered who might be responsible, a voice called out, “Lovely Man…Lovely Man! Are you here?” A grin spread across the young mage’s face from ear to ear as he dropped his tools and raced to the back of The Cottage, where the river flowed by. Ondine had found the place to come and visit him at home, and was turning cartwheels in the air as he rounded the corner.
“Welcome dearest. How good it is to see you! Found the place alright, I see?”
Tvrdik found a little break in the tall grasses that lined the riverbank, and half slid down to the lapping waters where Ondine was frolicking, Stewart bouncing along behind him. When his toes were nearly in the water, he squatted down to be closer to her level, took her tiny hand and drew it to his lips in a welcoming kiss. The little sprite giggled, blushed a deep purple, and finished with a back flip into the slow, somewhat murky waters. Tvrdik continued, “Ondine, I want you to meet a new friend: this is Stewart the dog. His grandsire knew my teacher, Xaarus, and he has been helping me with the repairs on this place.”
Stewart stood erect and cocked his head once politely, tail waving behind, “Pleased to make yer acquaintance, missy, though I can’t say as I’ve ever encountered such as ye before.” Stewart’s eyes were gleaming with delight. By now he had come to expect that anywhere Tvrdik was, exciting adventures were sure to follow.
“I do not know ‘dog’ either, but you are most courteous. Happy to meet new friend of Lovely Man.” She flashed a pretty smile, and twirled in the water, showering the dog as he stood there. Stewart responded with a full body shake that tossed the droplets right back at her, and at everything else in range, including poor Tvrdik. Ondine was delighted to find a kindred spirit in Stewart, and bobbed about in the river with laughter. Tvrdik was smiling so hard his face ached.
“I’ve missed you, girl. I’ve been so busy with this place that I never realized days were passing. Can you forgive me for leaving you on your own so long?”
“No worries, Lovely Man. Ondine busy too. Look, I also bring new friends.” She gestured with her head, and for the first time everyone’s attention went to the four timid little souls who floated just upstream of Ondine, their eyes bulging and their mouths open at the scene they had just witnessed. “Come, come!” Ondine beckoned sharply, “Come, cousins. This is my Lovely Man and his dogfriend, Stewart. Here are cousins I find after long searching…” The cousins hung back, clearly terrified. “They are shy. Lovely Man, say hello.”
Tvrdik stretched out a hand toward the small sprites, but they sprang backward. He took a good look at them. Cousins of Ondine they might be, but distant at that, the years of hiding from men and swimming in less than pure waters having taken their toll. Where Ondine was bright blue and seemed to sparkle, these little creatures were an odd shade of greenish grey, dull, without light. Where she was slender, they seemed positively frail. And where she was playful and sociable, they seemed afraid of their own shadows. Still, it was a coup that Ondine had routed out evidence of a community of water sprites still living among men, and perhaps, with a little tender, loving care, even these could blossom, and regain something of their cousin’s spark. The young mage summoned his kindest smile and most non-threatening tone of voice, “Wonderful to meet all of you. I will be living here soon, and hope you will not be strangers.”
“This your house now?” Ondine interjected, glancing with curiosity at the house and the grounds.
“As soon as I can clean and fix it up, I can move in, and you can hang around here anytime you want. I can even put in a pond, or a fountain, if you like?” Ondine raised one eyebrow. “No, really. A little fountain for you to visit would not be so difficult…” Tvrdik sat down on the river bank, feeling weary, but content. Stewart was stretched along beside him, his sharp eyes fixed on Ondine. The local sprites seemed to calm down a bit as they found themselves no longer in the spotlight, but kept mostly to themselves. Still, they remained close by, and seemed to be listening to the conversation. Ondine floated in the slow, mossy water and related to her friends on shore how she had gone exploring up and down the river searching for her own kind. Two days ago, she thought she caught a glimpse of something: a familiar silhouette, a furtive movement. But it had taken the better part of a day to track the shy creatures, root them out of their hiding place, and convince them that she was only a country cousin come to visit, and meant them no harm. It took even more persuasion to get them to accompany her on her visit this noon. But in the end, curiosity had won over nerves, as none of them had ever had much contact with humans before. Ondine had made a persuasive case that a real wizard would be something worth seeing. Tvrdik heard the cue in that sentence that he ought to make good on that promise, and started his trick of levitating pebbles high in the air with one finger, and letting them splash into the river, careful of course not to hit anyone.
A small, delighted commotion erupted among the visitors, who seemed to be squealing and conversing among themselves in some otherworldly language. Tvrdik flashed them a charming smile, and made the next pebble do a loop-di-loop in the air before its descent. Ondine giggled and paused in her narrative, watching the reaction of her little charges. Stewart’s tail thumped the ground. Feeling encouraged by his audience, and in a somewhat creative mood, the wizard levitated some twigs and grasses over the river and formed them into the shape of a sailing ship, suspended in the air. Then he pulsed a finger and set the whole thing ablaze with green flame as it made its way across the sky, the ashes falling harmlessly into the water as the picture faded. A chorus of ooos greeted the feat, and Ondine clapped with enthusiasm. A few more such pyrotechnic displays in various shapes and colors, along with some rings and heart-shapes summoned from the smoke, and he had their rapt attention, enchanted expressions on upturned faces. It was all play and silliness, of course, but who doesn’t have a child within that loves such magical performances? And Tvrdik, for all he had spent twelve years in near solitude, had an innate knack for making friends. It might have had something to do with his openness and utter lack of guile, or perhaps his wizard’s intuition mad
e him sensitive to what was needed in each new encounter. But, at any rate, he knew how to listen and respond with a compassionate and generous heart. Whoever met him seemed to let down their guard and warm to him quickly.
So, when Ondine went on her way that afternoon with her charges, she was shepherding happy souls, who were absolutely besotted with the pale young wizard, and were promising to visit again soon, and to assist him in whatever he should need. Ondine had committed to staying with the little naiads awhile to teach them a few of her own ‘tricks’ from the land of the ancient forests, and to trade stories and ancestries. But she hung back a moment to tell Tvrdik that she had also been in conversation with the unicorns. Just an introduction so far – you had to go slow and easy with unicorns – but it was progress in the right direction. Then she winked at him and blew him a kiss, and was gone beneath the shining surface of the water.
Her sudden absence echoed in the warm spring air, leaving a void that made him feel lonelier than before she had arrived. But then, a voice beside him broke the heavy silence, “Well, sir, that was most extraordinary.” Stewart said.
“Indeed it was,” replied Tvrdik, with gratitude for the stalwart wolfhound’s company. He reached out and put a hand on Stewart’s shoulder, and after a brief pause in companionable silence, both staring off downriver, lost in their respective thoughts, they rose at the selfsame moment and went back to work.
Hours later, when the sun was edging toward the horizon, casting long shadows in the yard, and Tvrdik was considering at least one more night at the palace, while he swept out the sitting room of twelve years of dust and debris, the second surprise arrived. An even longer shadow seemed to fall across the world, nearly blotting out the sun, and a sudden whoosh of wind over the freshly thatched roof startled the dog and the mage, causing them to run to the doorway to see what the commotion was. It was the roar of a dragon’s wings whipping up the air – a great green dragon who circled low and skidded to a landing on the riverbank just behind the house. Tashroth and his rider had waited for this quiet time of day to approach from the side opposite the road to avoid rousing any suspicion at their presence. Since they were giving it out that the Lady Regent was contracting repairs on Xaarus’ old cottage anyway, it would be natural for her to drop in and monitor the project’s progress. But she was in no mood to field questions or requests from the curious or the needy tonight, and so some precautions seemed wise. No one was out and about walking the river road at this hour, so Jorelial Rey threw a cursory glance about, and judged it safe to dismount. Tvrdik and Stewart had raced around to the river side of The Cottage for the second time that day, and greeted their guests’ arrival with proper low bows.
“Jorelial Rey,” Tvrdik intoned, as she dropped down on the riverbank, “and my lord Tashroth. Be welcome here.” Tashroth gave an acknowledging nod as he rearranged himself into a more comfortable, and, he hoped, less conspicuous position on a strip of riverbank barely able to contain him. Jorelial Rey made a curt little bow in answer to their formal courtesies, and then strode over and grasped Tvrdik’s hand in both of hers in a warm greeting. He could feel, nevertheless, her agitation, just beneath the veneer of cultivated grace.
“Tvrdik, it is good to see you again. I hope you don’t mind this unheralded and unorthodox visit. We wanted to see how the house was coming, but didn’t want to attract any attention. I hope we haven’t startled you, or arrived at a bad time?”
“Not at all, my lady. You know you are always most welcome. Come, let me show you around. Things are still a bit rough, but coming along…”
“But who is this?” she stopped in her tracks, noticing Stewart.
Tvrdik backtracked, “Oh, pardon me – this is my good friend Stewart, who has been a great help to me over the past several days.”
Stewart took his cue, “My Lady Regent, ‘tis an honor to make yer acquaintance. Call on me if I may ever be of service.”
Jorelial lifted an eyebrow to hear the dog speak. Apparently, she had encountered few talking beasts besides dragons in her short years, but she continued without hesitation, “I thank you with all my heart, and am happy to meet you as well. I am always grateful for faithful friends I may count on.”
“Health and long life to the infant king; so say I,” Stewart averred with enthusiasm.
“Amen to that!” Rel countered, and then, almost under her breath, “Indeed, amen to that.”
Tvrdik ventured to put a hand on her shoulder, happy for the additional company, and excited about showing off what they had thus far accomplished, “Come along. I hope you will be pleased at our progress…” There was still light enough to take a turn around the exterior of the building, pointing out the new roofing, the brightly whitewashed walls, the uncovered windows with new panes installed, the orderly, weeded gardens and the neat flowerbeds up against the foundation, the repaired front gate, swept walk, and solid front door. Rel was impressed, if not amazed.
“This is remarkable, for only a few days work. However did you get so much done?”
“Well, Stewart has been invaluable, but to tell the truth, I did cheat a bit.”
“Cheat?” She wrinkled her brow. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Magic.”
“Oh.” she raised her eyebrows in surprise, and then, without warning, he winked, which made her smile for the first time in days.
“It’s beautiful,” she told him sincerely, “Almost as I remember it.”
“I’m afraid the inside still has a way to go, but I’ve been concentrating on the kitchen and private apartments.” Jorelial nodded as they stepped inside. Just within the arched doorway, Tvrdik paused for just a moment of indecision, and then reached out toward the foyer wall and retrieved his magical staff. Rel stepped back, startled. Tvrdik set it between them, “What do you think? Xaarus had it put away all finished with my name on it. You can’t imagine how good it feels in my hand.”
“Does it work?”
For answer, Tvrdik gripped the staff, closed his eyes and concentrated. In a twinkling, big, cold snowflakes fell on Jorelial’s hair, nose, and eyelids; fell in quantity, fell from out of nowhere. She swatted at her clothes, at the air around her, dancing in place on the floor where white flakes were accumulating.
“OK, OK, make it stop! Make it stop,” she shouted. And as fast as it had begun, the snow disappeared at once, leaving them both breathless and giggling. “Impressive,” she remarked, between bursts of laughter, and, staff at his side, Tvrdik ushered her into the house.
“Weather is the easiest,” he confessed, “I’m still experimenting on lots of other things…”
Rel jumped back, smiling, “”Well, promise me you won’t do any more experimenting on me today, alright?”
“If you insist,” he pouted in mock disappointment, and she gave him a cuff across the shoulder in mock annoyance. Suddenly they both stopped midstep, and their eyes met, both realizing that they had been ‘playing’ – a thing neither of them had any experience in at all. Something unspoken passed between them, the silent sharing of how good it felt to let go of the burdens of past and future, and just enjoy the moment, to be young and lighthearted and feeling immortal. It was only a second’s connection, but unmistakably real. And then, the young mage turned away and muttered, “This way…” and it was over.
The sitting room they entered looked almost inviting – still in need of paint and decoration, and perhaps new chairs – but it was swept and clean, cobwebs long gone, the hearth already emptied and stacked with new wood and kindling. Tvrdik explained how he had closed off the teaching annex and left it for another time. It was such a large area, not essential for his current needs, and besides, it was, for him, so filled with memories. Rel nodded, understanding.
The kitchen was beginning to shape up. A small stock of new or refurbished pots of gleaming copper, along with a few utensils and basic provisions had been laid in against the mage’s eventu
al move into the place. “You can see how liberal I have been in spending your money,” Tvrdik ventured, with a sheepish grin.
The lady smiled, “I can see it is going to be a wise investment.”
As they continued on through doorways, Rel gasped with wonder at the amazing library, and the workshop/laboratory, which Tvrdik had cleaned and tidied, but left for the most part unchanged.
“I don’t remember ever being invited in here,” she remarked, her eyes travelling over the shelves and shelves of books and scrolls and equipment. “The breadth and depth of his knowledge was astounding.”
“Is astounding,” Tvrdik corrected. “I am still counting on seeing him back among these tomes and projects in the near future. Xaarus appeared to me and told me to help myself to anything here that might be useful, but I’m afraid these rooms will always feel like his personal property, which I am privileged to borrow. I daren’t move or reorganize anything he was working on for fear of spoiling some long-awaited and deeply significant result.”
Rel looked him square in the face, “I feel his presence here too, but soon you will be doing your own important work, and you will need to put aside your reverence and use everything at your disposal. In that way, you also honor him as teacher and master.”
Tvrdik peered at her over his glasses; how and where had that insight come from, as well as the surprising level of confidence in him? He dropped his gaze, whispering, “It is too soon.”
She touched his arm. “Time is a luxury we do not have.” There was a long silence. Tvrdik turned and ducked through the last door.
The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare Page 17