Essence of Chaos

by Marie Andreas

  Ghortin didn’t need to look up to know of whom she spoke. “No, although he’d like to be. That’s why he’s here in fact; hoping to find things to add to his own glory.” He shook his head. “Can’t stand the man much myself. Why Daylin is involving him, I’ll never understand.”

  Jenna nodded and went back to her food. Conversation drifted toward the incidents; most importantly, their encounter with the sciretts. From the first word, Lord Ravenhearst tried to discredit the attack. He stated, in heavily cloaked words, that perhaps their judgment had been in error. A pack of local dogs was the likely source.

  Ghortin shot a disgusted glance at the nobleman. No one else acknowledged him, or his words, that much.

  Jenna listened closely to the rest of the conversation, she couldn’t help but notice that none of them seemed to be going deep into reasons or details. Obviously, Ghortin wasn’t the only one who didn’t trust the blond lord’s interest.

  A wave of exhaustion hit Jenna soon after she pushed her plate away. The men were deciding where to adjourn to as she practically fell out of her chair.

  Tor Ranshal caught her before she slid off. “Child? Are you well?” The concern turned his magnificent eyes to copper.

  “I’m sorry.” Jenna shook her head. “I guess the whole trip finally caught up with me. I’m exhausted.”

  He patted her hand. “No need to apologize, child.” He glanced toward Ghortin briefly. “I’m the sorry one.”

  She shook them both off with a yawn. “I’m tired. I think it was all that riding.” She was too tired to glare at Ghortin.

  “You need a good night’s rest.” The men spoke simultaneously. She grimaced, the last thing she needed right now was Ghortin in stereo. Even if she completely agreed.

  As if their words had been a summons, a young human page came into the room. He peered through his too-long blond bangs at the seneschal.

  “Jesop, good lad. Take the Lady Jenna to her suite.” He turned and gave Jenna an elegant bow. “Good night, my dear, rest well.”

  Jenna nodded sleepily, said good night to Sir Edgar, and gave a curt nod to Lord Ravenhearst. She was too tired to be diplomatic.

  “Don’t forget you’re meeting Storm at the market. And be back in your rooms by nightfall tomorrow for the masquerade.”

  Jenna nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her anymore. If she had more energy, she would have chastised him for being a mother hen.

  Not many people were using the passageway they were walking down at present, as the mage lights were quite dim. Jenna kept close tabs on the short boy ahead of her, but found she was a little too close as she almost stumbled into his back. He had come to a halt in front of a pair of ornate red oak doors.

  “Apprentice mage Lady Jenna a-Ghortin, the rooms belonging to your Master and yourself await. Do you have further need?”

  His voice squeaked in a few spots, but Jenna managed to cover her grin by yawning. As the boy spoke he nudged the right door open so Jenna could enter.

  “No, this is great. Thank you.” Looking down for the first time, she realized how grimy she was. “Wait. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get a bath?”

  “Of course, my lady. One has already been drawn and is waiting for you inside.”

  Jenna frowned. How had they known she would be coming up right now?

  The page misunderstood her frown. “My lady? Is something wrong? You did say you wished a bath, did you not?” The boy looked terrified.

  “Oh, yes. I did. I was wondering…” She paused as worry darkened his eyes. “Never mind. Everything is wonderful. Thank you.” She tried to remember what Tor Ranshal had called him. “Jesop.”

  She smiled as the boy’s face lit up. Obviously, pages weren’t used to being identified by nobles. And judging from the decoration on the door, Jenna was ranking right up there. More than likely a mere apprentice wouldn’t under normal circumstances, but she gathered that no apprentice of Ghortin’s was a mere anything.

  The boy ran off with a nod, and Jenna shut the door behind him. Leaning against the warm wood of the door, she surveyed their new quarters. The main sitting room was spacious and airy. Graceful forest scenes were richly displayed on the tapestries that covered most of the walls. Two bedrooms branches out on opposite sides of the front room, they looked the same, so she claimed the chamber closest to the door.

  In the adjoining room was a sight she’d been looking forward to, even if its appearance was a mystery. A full bath with fragrant steam rising above it, and soft white towels beside it.

  She let herself relax completely for the first time in days, but her mind kept drifting back toward Lord Ravenhearst. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was more than opportunistic. But since she couldn’t explain it either, she let it get pushed aside for a while. Baths were meant to be enjoyed, not to worry in.

  She found her things in one of a pair of bedrooms off to the side. Full, happy, and clean, Jenna tumbled off to sleep.

  12

  The bright morning sunlight was starting its journey across the stone floor when Jenna finally decided to open her eyes. She had been awake for the past fifteen minutes, but had been much too warm and content to think of moving.

  However, from the scents she was smelling, some wonderful person had sent up breakfast. She quickly changed, then went out to the front room. Looking around vainly for her teacher, she realized he had not only snuck in without her knowing last night, he’d broken his fast and snuck back out again just as silently.

  She was finishing up with a cup of amber tea and a piece of thick bread slathered with honey, when bells began to chime outside. Taking her cup with her, she wandered over to the arched window and peered down.

  Somehow that page last night had navigated her up much higher than the three or four flights she thought they’d walked. At this height, Lithunane was spread out before her like a box of jewels. The graceful, multi-color pebbled roadways marked where one jewel ended and another began.

  Here and there tall spires, some so thin they looked to be no more than gossamer threads, stretched up to the morning sun. Still others hung low to the ground, stating with elegance that grace can also be found in strength. From the diversity of the buildings alone, it would be apparent to any observer that more than one species called this city home.

  The bell chimed again and Jenna shook herself free of the city’s spell. She’d almost forgotten her meeting with Storm.

  Hoping the housekeeper, or castle keeper, wouldn’t fault them for the state of their rooms, Jenna bolted out the massive doors.

  After a few false starts, she finally got pointed down the right stairwell. And after a few more, got herself out the gate and en route to the market.

  The city was as beautiful at ground level as it had been from the tower, if a little bit less mysterious. But the wide variety of smells—ginger, cinnamon, and jasmine—drifting from every direction more than compensated for that.

  The open-air market was perched atop a small rise a few streets over from the castle. It wasn’t a permanent fixture; clearly the small shops packed up each evening. She found her eye caught by a tiny stall with crystals perched on the tip of the market’s edge. She was allowing herself to be drawn to it when a low voice spoke softly next to her.

  “Alas, my lady has already forsaken me for the wares of another man. And so early in the day, too.”

  Jenna managed to refrain from jumping out of her skin and glared at the sneaky kelar.

  “Would you stop sneaking up on me?” Before he and Ghortin became so secretive back at the cottage, Storm had developed a fondness for sneaking up on her that bordered on the excessive. Out of habit she took her customary swing. She knew he’d keep out of reach.

  “You insufferable point-eared goblin. You’re always creeping up on people.”

  Storm laughed as he stepped back from another half-hearted swing. “No, just you.” He stepped back further as she swung again. “I’m trying to get you used to kelar ways.
We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re not…” He leaned forward, a few stray hairs pulling loose of his customary cloth headband and falling across his face. “Shall we say, of this world?” His voice was low and serious, but his dark blue eyes were twinkling.

  Jenna finally started laughing. It was damn hard to stay mad at someone this good looking. “Fine, you win again. But can we please call a truce while I’m here? I've got enough stuff to worry about, and I doubt that any of the local kelars are going to be sneaking up on me.”

  Storm relented. “Fair enough. Now how about a tour of the market?”

  “Lead away.” A thought hit her; she never had gotten a chance to ask Ghortin where Storm had gone, not that she’d be likely to get an answer. “Where did you go last night anyway?”

  Storm shrugged causally, but he stole a quick glance around them. “I thought we could talk after the market, say a picnic? It’s fairly close in here.”

  Jenna reddened a bit; he was right. Of course, if the people around her would just be more upfront about things, this wouldn’t be an issue.

  “Agreed.” She managed to make it sound like that had been her intention all along. Taking Storm’s arm, she led him toward the crystal cart she’d been aiming for before their encounter. “Are you going to show me this market or what?”

  They made fairly good time, although Jenna was certain she could never have found her way through such meandering pathways. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the layout of the market area, although Storm acted like there was.

  At one point Jenna could have sworn that Lord Ravenhearst stood a few stalls away. She tried to get Storm to follow when he darted away, but he refused, saying he wanted nothing to do with that particular noble. If it was him; the lord had people to do his bidding down here, he would probably never cheapen himself by appearing in person.

  The noon bell began its chimes when Storm led them out of the market and down a small, dusty side road.

  Jenna looked at him questioningly, but he just flashed one of his secretive smiles.

  Finally he stopped in front of a small wooden cottage that was nondescript in appearance, but had the most amazing fresh baked bread smells wafting from it. Jenna’s mouth began to water immediately.

  “And for the final leg on your tour, I have arranged a picnic by the esteemed Madam Rachael, and a carriage ride to Sorrow’s Sea.”

  Jenna looked closer at the small building, but she didn’t see any sign marking it as an eatery. Deciding that she wasn’t going to argue with those wonderful smells, she let Storm lead her inside.

  The whitewashed interior was pristine, with small white porcelain ware along the top rafters. A tiny kelar woman bustled around, putting the finishing touches on a picnic basket. Jenna noticed with a start that the white haired woman was actually old. The first signs of age she’d seen in a kelar. A part of her was dying of curiosity to know how old an old kelar was. However, she refrained from blurting out her question.

  “My boy.” The sprightly little woman beamed at Storm as she wrapped her thin arms around his waist.

  Storm returned the hug fondly. “How have you been, tiny mother?”

  Jenna started for a second, and then realized his term must be one of endearment, not reality. The only thing they had in common was their species.

  The smile faded from her lined face. She brushed a white hair back with a flour-dusted hand. “Something is going wrong, my boy. I’m not sure what it is, or where it’s coming from, but mark my words, something has changed the pattern.” She shook her head wearily. “I feel it in my marrow. Ghortin has come.”

  It was more of a statement than a question, but Storm nodded anyway. He was about to add something, when she spied Jenna.

  Her diminutive face lit up immediately and she scurried over, enveloping Jenna with as much force as she had used on Storm moments before. Then she pulled back a bit, staring intently into Jenna’s eyes.

  “Ah, child, fate has taken you far from hearth and home. And given you a great task, one that has, and will, cost you much. Yet, you may be the answer.” She nodded as if her nonsense was the most sensible thing in the world. “Yes, your coming, although not foretold, should not be unexpected.” Sympathy touched her deep brown eyes. “But you may have to give up what you desire most, such as a return home.”

  Jenna froze in shock. “You know who I am?”

  She looked up at Storm and saw the same look of surprise that must be on her own face. The woman’s last words hit her a moment later.

  “You mean I can go home?” She didn’t dare believe it. Even thinking of home had been a pastime she’d outgrown in the past few months. The sight of her mangled former body still lingered in the back of her nightmares.

  The small woman’s face grew sadder. “Tsk. There I go again. I speak of things out of time. No, my child, I can’t get you back, not yet.” She glanced over to Storm with a smile. “And your secret was not betrayed by anyone. I have gifts. I see things others don’t.” Her eyes came back to Jenna as she sighed with a sad smile. “Don’t fret; I’m old Rachael, the hearth mistress.” Her eyes grew distant as she focused on something far beyond the little cottage. She snapped back, her eyes bright and inquisitive once more.

  “Now is not the time for such dire talk and gloom.” Her smile lit the room again. “Now is the time for young ones to picnic on the shore. Later things are for later times.”

  Storm came to Jenna’s side and Rachael peered at the pair intently for a second. She grinned. “It’s not spring by any chance, is it?”

  Jenna was startled, the weather was pleasant outside, but it was obvious that winter was on its way.

  Storm however, took the question in stride. “No, tiny mother, it’s near autumn’s end. As well you know.”

  A mischievous sparkle lit the woman’s eyes. “Pity.” She winked at Jenna. “Well, off with the two of you. And tell that old scoundrel Ghortin…” She paused as if listening to something. Finally, she waved her tiny hands at them. “Oh, never mind. He’s with Tor Ranshal. I’ll get two for one today.” She cackled to herself, then shoved the fragrant basket into Storm’s waiting hands and bustled the two out the door. Jenna tried to say thank you, but they found themselves outside before she could get the words out.

  “I didn’t get a chance to thank her.”

  A chime rang in the air above her. “You’re welcome, my dear, now go play.” The voice was definitely Rachael’s, even if it came from nowhere. She clearly was more than just a hearth mistress, that term referring to dabblers in small magic.

  Storm shrugged and led her around the corner to a small, open carriage. The gray horse hooked up to it greeted them as they approached.

  “We might as well take her words to heart; I’ve found that arguing with Rachael is similar to arguing with Ghortin. You stand a better chance of winning an argument against the sea.”

  Storm helped her into the carriage, then took the reins and led them away.

  “So she’s a mage, right? Just how old is she? And, pardon my asking, but don’t you have any friends without gray hair?”

  Storm shook the reins, letting the horse have more freedom as they cleared the busy city streets. “Sort of. I have no idea. And, yes, but I find it easier to relax around elders sometimes. Happy?”

  “How can someone sort of be a mage? That’s like being sort of pregnant—you are or you aren’t.”

  Storm shrugged. “You should ask Ghortin, he’d be able to give you a better answer. But I’m afraid he’s not sure how she does what she does. She doesn’t register as a mage on any known scale. I’m sure you didn’t sense anything?”

  Jenna shook her head; she wasn’t ready to admit she couldn’t sense anything magically right now. Although Ghortin assured her she’d be better soon, she’d believe it when she saw it.

  Storm nodded. “See, no one can pick her up that way. And sometimes she sees the future as if it were the past.” He flicked the horse’s reins and they picked up speed.
“But don’t be too concerned about what she said to you back there. She’s often wrong. Or way off, in terms of time. You could end up saving a small child when you’re eighty, and that would fulfill her prediction. She’s a sweet old thing, and once the mage council in Khelaran decided she was harmless, no one listens to her much.”

  Jenna looked out over the passing farm fields. They had left the city and were now in the agricultural portion of the land. Long rows of green neatly marked off the different crops.

  The scenery was all nice, but she was still fascinated with Rachael. “How long has she been in Traanafaeren? She wasn’t with Ghortin when they first came here, was she?” He hadn’t mentioned her as being part of his band, but the fact that such a fascinating person hadn’t been mentioned at all made her wonder.

  “Ghortin’s right, you’ve more questions than there are grains of sand in the Markare.” Storm nodded to a passing farmer. “No, she wasn’t one of Ghortin’s band. She was actually here before them. She helped the adventurers that first year. Ghortin claimed even Carabella treated Rachael with respect.” He looked off into the distance. “You’ve not met her, have you?”

  Jenna took her eyes off the greenery and looked at him sharply. “Carabella? Considering she wandered off almost a thousand years ago; no, I can’t say that I have.”

  Storm’s laugh startled a nearby cow. “Is he still trying to say no one has seen her? Honestly, one of these days she’s going to come up and cuff his ears. You shouldn’t lie about a cuari, even if she is your mother.”

  Jenna glared at Storm, but it was Ghortin she was mad at. “You mean he’s withheld information again? He keeps lying to me.”

  “I don’t know about again. But it’s not really a lie. Ghortin hasn’t seen or spoken to her since she stormed off all those years ago. But Carabella comes and goes, like all cuari. She doesn’t visit when Ghortin is around. It annoys him to no end.” His smirk showed her whose side he was on in this endless game of hide and seek.