Niya grinned at Loren, and Chet forced a smile as well. “Well met, then,” he said.
“Indeed,” said Niya, and returned to her table. Gem stood there looking crestfallen, his hand still outstretched to clasp hers, but she acted as though he was not there.
The other Mystics told Loren something of themselves. Uzo was a spearman, though he was quick to explain his spear was likely not similar to the ones Loren was used to; it was short and flexible, and he used it half as a staff. Shiun was a scout, and skilled with a bow, but when she heard that Loren had been learning the Calentin style of shooting, her brows raised, and she extracted a promise that the two of them would trade advice the next time they were in the training yard. After a time, Xain put his hand on Loren’s shoulder and gave her a smile.
“I am glad to see you reunited,” he said, “but that is not the end of the news I have for you. I did not bring you to see your friends only so you could have a happy reunion. Ammon is in need of reinforcements, and these six will come with you on the journey there.”
Loren’s eyes shot wide, and she looked at the Mystics anew. Her expression must have shown her shock, for Weath and Gwenyth smiled, and Jormund loosed his huge, booming laugh. Shiun and Uzo gave her a polite smile—but Loren looked past them, to the table where Niya sat. The Mystic woman had not taken her eyes from Loren, and for a moment they locked gazes. Loren’s stomach did a pleasant turn, and she swallowed hard before turning away.
Her gaze met Xain’s, who still smiled at her in delight of his surprise. A grin stole across her face to match his—but then she realized that this was his parting gift. A replacement, though a shoddy one, for his own company upon the road. That thought seemed to throw a dark cloud over her joy, and her smile faltered.
Xain saw it, and his own smile grew sad in response. “There is time yet before that bitter parting,” he said quietly. “And I mean to fill it with happiness where I can. Tonight, you must let me take you out upon the Seat. We will eat and drink our fill, and pretend for a little while longer that no darkness waits beyond an ever-nearing dawn.”
six
LOREN RETURNED TO HER QUARTERS, along with Chet and Gem, and there Xain left them for the rest of the day. But he returned at dusk, bringing them fine clothes to wear. He handed the boys their outfits, but when he came to Loren he paused.
“I did not know which you would rather wear,” he said. “I have brought you fine trousers of dyed black leather, to wear with a blouse and a vest, if you wish it. That is the sort of clothing I have always seen you in. But I also have here a dress. I am not sure if it is quite your size, and I had the clothier choose the cut. I am no expert in these things you understand, and—”
“Oh, sky above, Xain,” she said, laughing at his sudden awkwardness. “Let me look at the thing.”
He had draped it over his arm, and now he held it out to her. Loren went still at the sight of it, her breath escaping in a soft sigh. Hesitantly she reached out and took it, marveling at the feeling of the cloth between her fingertips. It was as blue as the ocean, and worked through with thin threads of sea-green in delicate patterns like tree leaves. She had never seen a fabric that shimmered just so, reflecting the torchlight when she turned it over in her hands. Its sleeves ran all the way to the wrists, where they closed with small buttons of some cream-colored stone she had never seen before.
“It is a silly thing, I know,” he said at once, looking embarrassed as he pursed his lips at it. “Most likely you do not—”
“I do not often wear dresses,” said Loren. “The last one I owned was made by my mother, and she intended for me to wear it at a dance, the very night you and I met.” She pressed the dress to herself, smiling softly at him. “I ground dirt into that dress with my heel and spat on it, for I hated her. But this one I will keep. It is beautiful.” Then she frowned. “Though I hope you do not expect me to wear it often. I could not possibly mount a horse in this thing.”
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Of course not. And you will find little occasion for dresses in Ammon, I assure you. But I am glad you like it, regardless.”
When Chet saw her in the dress, he could not stop staring, and in the end she had to force him to continue getting dressed himself. Once they were ready, and Loren had donned her black cloak, Xain led them out of the palace and into the streets of the city, heading southwest.
Lamps burned from the corners of many buildings along the way, lending the city a cheery look despite the cut of the frigid air. The city was full of people about their business, and if there more soldiers among the crowds than there had been a few weeks ago, still the mood was cheerful and boisterous, with much laughter, and songs that poured from nearly every tavern they passed. The rebuilding of the Seat had raised the mood of all upon it, and there was a sense in those who dwelled there that the war, if indeed it ever came, would be a short and simple affair, and no source of great trouble or worry.
Xain stopped before a tavern, and over its door Loren saw a stag painted in silver. Inside, a bright fire burned in the wide hearth, and the lamps along the walls lit the place almost as brightly as the sun. Xain introduced them briefly to the matron, Canda, and she showed them to a table where they found well-cushioned chairs with intricate designs carved into the wood. When the food came, they found that it tasted nearly as delightful as the place looked. Seldom had Loren tasted any meat so finely spiced, even in the palace, and there were sweet roasted fruits the likes of which she had never seen before. The wine, too, was uncommonly good, and she wondered how much Xain had paid for it all. When she asked him, he shushed her with a wave of his hand.
“Tonight we are not concerned with such things,” he said. “Tonight we think only of having one last happy memory together, at least until the next time we meet.”
“Speaking of meetings,” said Gem, who had snuck himself a cup of wine when Loren was not looking, “I have had a thought recently. How in all the skeins of time did the two of you meet each other? I have never heard the tale.”
Loren blinked. She had told Chet the story, of course, but then they had spent far more time together since their reunion in Northwood. But she had never thought to tell Gem, for their journey together had consisted of one flight from danger after another.
So she settled back in her chair and told the story now, of how she had caught Xain running through the Birchwood and had begged him to take her with him. She skipped briefly over the description of her father and the reasons she wished to flee, and Gem did not press her for more details. But when she reached the part of the tale where they slept that first night on the riverbank, she scowled at Xain in mock fury and brandished her wine cup at him.
“And then this buffoon, darkness take him, abandoned me on the riverbank.”
Xain’s cheeks burned red, and he had to force a smile. “I did. Though in my defense, I thought it would be safer for you.”
“Oh, yes, very safe,” said Loren, leaning over to Gem and muttering conspiratorially. “It only landed the constables hot on my heels, and then dropped me in the lap of Damaris of the family Yerrin, who, you will remember, has tried to kill me more than once.”
The wizard barked a laugh. “And do you think I planned for that?”
They argued over that for a bit, and then Loren went on with the story, and by the time she had come to the part where Gem entered into it, the boy was so tired that he had nearly fallen asleep in his food. He perked up at the mention of his own name, but almost immediately his head began to sag again.
Loren looked toward the door, wondering how what time it was. The common room was not so full as it had been when they entered, but there were more than enough patrons to keep it open for some hours more. Her heart sank at the thought of ending their night so soon, and she looked reluctantly at Xain. He gave her a sad smile.
Then Chet stood from his chair. “It grows late, and our urchin is almost asleep where he sits. I will see him safely to the palace and leave you two be.
”
Loren blinked at him. “You need not do that. I can come with you.”
“Stay,” said Chet, smiling and putting a hand on her shoulder. “You and I have all the coming journey together, and many days after that as well. But your time with Xain is nowhere near so plentiful, and should be savored. And besides, it would be a crime if you did not spend as much time in that dress as you possibly can, for I do not know when you shall get to wear it again.”
Her sight grew misty, and she wondered if she had had too much wine. “Thank you,” she murmured. Chet smiled and forced a grumbling Gem to his feet, and then walked the boy out into the night.
“He is worth more than his weight in gold, that one,” said Xain quietly. “Do not forget it.”
“I will not,” said Loren. “All our lives he has cared for me, and some time ago that care grew into a love unlike any I have seen before. I only worry that it is too much, for if his feelings for me ever caused him harm, I could not bear it.”
Xain cocked his head. “You speak as though love blooms in his heart only.”
Loren shook her head quickly. “No, of course not. I love him as well. Only … only I do not know that it is the same. Sometimes I think Chet sees me as more than I am.”
“Mayhap,” said Xain. “Or mayhap you see yourself as less than you are.”
She did not know what to say to that, and so they sat for a while in comfortable silence. Loren finished her cup of wine, and Xain refilled it with the rest of the bottle. They sipped gingerly, and Loren could sense the same hesitance in the wizard that she herself felt—a reluctance to move on, to see this night end and the next step in their journey begin.
It was Xain who broke the silence. “Loren, I must ask you something. Do you still carry your dagger?”
She tensed. “Yes.”
“You mean to bring it with you?” he said, studying her.
“I do. What else would I do with it?”
His eyes grew far away, staring over her shoulder. “I do not know. Once you asked me if you should throw it into the Great Bay. Mayhap you should do that now. I fear what might happen if Kal should learn that you have it. Jordel was worried enough about it, and he was a much more forgiving man. I wish I were going with you.”
Loren frowned. “Kal was Jordel’s master, and Jordel was the one who told me the truth of the blade in the first place. I had hoped to tell Kal of it, and seek his council.”
Xain leaned forwards and shook his head, speaking in a low voice. “I do not think that would be wise. He seemed a man more prone to pragmatism than to kindness. Jordel did not press you to rid yourself of the dagger, because he trusted you. Though we met him only briefly, I do not know that Kal trusts anyone. If indeed you keep the dagger in your possession, you should not tell him of it.”
She pursed her lips. “Very well. I shall keep it a secret.”
“Promise me.”
Loren rolled her eyes. “I promise you.”
He smiled. “You are too confident in yourself by half. But it is one of your endearing qualities. I hope you will send my regards to Annis, by the by, as well as my apologies. That girl will never have much affection for me, I fear.”
“Who would?” said Loren, raising her brows and drinking deep of her wine.
“Careful now,” said Xain, scowling with mock severity. “Have you not heard I am a mighty firemage? I might catch you in my flame.”
Loren chuckled. “It is good to see you happy, Xain. You have not had much occasion for joy since I have known you. And when Jordel …” She paused for a moment, swallowing past a lump in her throat. “When Jordel told me how you used to be—before you fled the Seat, I mean—I could scarcely believe it. Now I see that he did not tell me even half of the truth.”
Xain’s eyes sparked with interest. “I never knew that. What did he tell you?”
“Do you wish to hear tales of your praise?” she teased. “He said that you were perhaps too quick to anger, but you were quick to laugh as well. He said that was how you earned yourself favor among the great, especially the Lord Prince. When I met Eamin, I could not understand why he would befriend such a dour man as yourself. But I have since seen a new part of you, and I am glad. If this is how you were before you left the Seat, then I would not take you away from it for all the gold in the nine kingdoms.”
The wizard’s eyes shone with tears for a moment. He cleared his throat, and then slapped his hand on the table abruptly. “Come. I wish to show you something.”
Loren straightened. “What? Where? It is the middle of the night.”
“All the better,” said Xain. “Come.”
She hesitated a moment more, but Xain had already stood and was making for the bar. There he spoke briefly to Canda and, after he placed a pair of coins in her palm, she handed him two more bottles of wine. One of these he placed in Loren’s hand before drawing her through the room and out into the street.
seven
THE NIGHT WAS NO LONGER young, and the first snow had begun to fall that day—not enough to cause drifts in the streets, but enough that Loren drew her cloak tighter and blew into the side of her hood to warm her face. Xain led her west in the moonslight, and before long they approached a huge black building surrounded by a wall ten paces high, all in black granite with silver trim. Loren stopped short.
“The Academy?” she said, a shiver running up her back. “Xain, where are we going?”
“Inside, of course,” he said. “Did you not know that I am the Dean?”
He threw open the front door and strode in. Loren hastened to follow, looking nervously around. The front hall was wide, with two staircases leading up from it in different directions, as well as halls leading to endless rows of doors in all directions. Moonslight poured through the windows high above, though it weakened considerably before it reached the floor, and most of the illumination came from lamps on the walls.
She jumped as the door slammed shut behind her, and turned to find that an old woman had closed them. The woman was short and wizened and had a mad look in her eye, but she ignored Loren entirely as she returned to her post by the door.
“Come,” said Xain, making for a hallway off to the left. Loren followed, not daring to trail too far behind. She knew that anyone they met would likely be a wizard. It was a curious thought, for everywhere else in the nine kingdoms, wizards were a rare thing.
She need not have worried, for they did not see anyone until Xain stopped before another thick door, this one made of black wood. Next to the door was a chair, and in the chair was a shriveled crone who could have been the sister of the woman at the front door. This woman’s back was not so hunched, and her fingers not so gnarled, but her eyes held a mean and cruel sneer.
“What do you want?” she grated.
“I believe you meant to ask, ‘How may I help you, Dean Forredar?’” said Xain. “And my answer, Carog, is that you may stand aside.”
“Certainly,” said Carog, giving him a nasty smile.
She hobbled out of the way. Xain stepped forward and put his hand on the latch—but it did not budge. Loren saw his shoulders heave with a sigh. He turned.
“Open the door, Carog.”
Carog’s eyes shot wide with mock innocence. “Oh, dearie me, is it locked? Now, where would I have placed the key? It gets so hard to remember these things at my age.” She made a great show of fumbling at the pockets of her robes.
Xain glared at her. “If you have lost the key, then I have no choice but to declare you derelict in your duties and replace you. I am certain Mellie will recommend a suitable steward in your stead.”
In an instant, Carog’s face turned to a bitter grimace. Angrily she thrust a hand into her robes and withdrew a key, which she hastened to turn in the lock.
“Thank you, Carog,” said Xain graciously, as he led Loren within. After the door slammed shut behind them, he smirked. “She has hated me ever since I was a student. I would sneak in here often without her knowing. She only caugh
t me twice, but she never forgave me.”
“She is horrid,” said Loren.
“And age has not improved her. But I am the Dean, and no longer need to care about such things. Come, and let me show you one of my favorite places.”
Looking up, Loren saw that they were in a great circular tower—and then she realized that it was the Academy’s bell tower. A wide circular staircase ran along the wall, built into the stone itself, and there high above them was the bell, massive even from this far down. Xain started up the steps, and she followed behind. His pace soon slowed, and she heard him pant heavily. But Loren had lost none of her hardiness from a lifetime in the forest, and she chuckled as she outpaced him.
“You are as slow as the day we met, wizard,” she said. “Now that you are a man of books and learning, do not forget to leave your desk every once in a while, or I shall find you fat and lazy when I return to the Seat.”
“Some would be glad to grow fat and happy in their later years,” gasped Xain. But he quickened his pace to keep up with her.
They reached the top, and Loren marveled at the sight of it. The bell was surrounded by a wide platform, and at the edge of it was a rail. Beyond that was only open air, so that in all directions she could look out and see the city laid before her like a blanket, but shining with the light of torches and hearths. The wind was stronger here than it had been on the street, but Loren hardly noticed it, so taken aback was she at the sight before her.
“Xain,” she breathed. “This … this is …”
“It is, is it not?” he said, his smile widening.
He guided her to the edge, and there he sat, draping his arms over the railing. Loren did the same beside him, laying her cloak beneath her so she did not dirty her dress. From within his coat Xain pulled the bottles of wine, and then removed the rag that sealed one of them. The other bottle he handed to Loren, and she withdrew its rag in turn.
Weremage: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 5) Page 4