by Tara Grayce
After spending over an hour riding, they needed to return. The shadows lengthened across the hills. The breeze swept cool from the west.
At the edge of town, they split their group in two. Edmund and Jalissa took half the guards to return straight to Winstead Palace. Essie and Farrendel, surrounded by the rest of the guards, headed for Lance Marion’s workshop.
Lance’s workshop was a large, brick building near the outskirts of town, at the edge of the manufacturing district. The rolling door was thrown wide open.
Essie dismounted and handed Ashenifela’s reins to a guard. “Wait out here for us, please.”
The guard nodded as Farrendel dismounted and entrusted the reins of his horse to another guard.
Essie took Farrendel’s hand and strode toward the open door. “You’ll like this place. There is always so much to look at. Lance is part master magician, part inventor. He’s a bit eccentric, to be honest. But nice.”
Farrendel eyed her but followed.
As they stepped into the building, they had to dodge around tables with various metal devices laid out in different states of completion. Essie could only guess at what all the items were. Along the wall, tools hung from a peg board.
As they took another step into the building, a piercing shriek split the air. Farrendel flinched, a blue light flickering along his palms. A crackle of magic tingled against Essie’s skin.
The shriek just wailed louder. Deeper in the building, falling metal clattered, followed by a man’s voice muttering.
Footsteps pounded a moment before a young man with goggles pushed into his light brown hair raced around a stack of metal barrels. He clutched some kind of device in his hands. The wailing buzz came from the device while a needle set in some kind of dial was pressed all the way into the red zone.
“I have never seen readings like this.” The young man circled the two of them, the device pointed in their direction. “Do you have a magical device in your pocket? But I can’t think of any device that could contain this much power.”
“Lance. It’s me. Princess Essie.”
Lance flapped his hand vaguely in her direction as he narrowed his circle around Farrendel. “No, it’s not in your pocket. The magic is radiating from you. How is that even possible? I’ve never seen a person with this much magic.”
Farrendel stayed stock still, hands pressed over his ears. He glanced at Essie, as if begging for help.
“Lance.” Essie snapped her fingers in front of his face. “He’s an elf. He has magic.”
Lance started and glanced up. He blinked at Farrendel, cocking his head. “Oh, right. I should have noticed the ears. I guess that explains it. I have never used my magic sensor on elves before. Tell me. Do you have an average amount of magic for an elf or more than the average amount? Stand still while I perform a few tests.”
“Lance, you can study my husband’s magic later. Can you please turn off that device? You’re hurting our ears.” Essie reached over and tugged on the device.
“Oh, of course.” Lance flipped a switch. The shrieking mercifully cut off. “It wasn’t doing any good anyway. I will need to build a sensor with a larger range to properly study your magic. Do you know its extent? Some direction would help me know how large a range to build into the detector.”
“Lance.” Essie clenched her fingers to keep from shaking him. He was usually absent-minded, but this was more than normal. She should have guessed Farrendel’s magic would distract him.
Lance blinked at her. “Princess Essie! When did you get here?”
“Several minutes ago. This is Prince Farrendel, my husband. And, no, he’s not going to be turned into one of your lab subjects.” Essie wrapped her arm around Farrendel’s, tugging him closer to her. He didn’t resist, as if this young scientist with his shrieking device scared him far more than a pack of trolls.
“Oh, sorry about that. I can get a little carried away at times.” Lance set the device on a nearby table, then gave a bow to Farrendel. “Though, if you ever wish to study your magic more in depth, please consider me an option. I would be greatly interested to learn more about how elven magic works. We humans have some theories, but without studying elven magic directly, all we can do is hypothesize.”
“You are not scared of my magic?” Farrendel eyed Lance.
“Why would I be scared?” Lance glanced at the magical sensor again, his fingers twitching as if itching to pick it back up.
“I am Laesornysh.” Farrendel said it slowly. Not a proud statement, but almost a question.
Lance just stared back for several seconds. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“For someone inventing for the army, you really don’t pay enough attention to the news.” Essie clasped Farrendel’s hand. How much would he want her to tell? She trusted Lance. Well, as much as Lance could be trusted. He wasn’t malicious. He just might accidentally say something without thinking. “Farrendel is the elves’ foremost warrior because of his magic. It is rather destructive.”
“Really?” Lance clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels. “How so? I was under the impression elven magic tended toward healing and growing. I suppose growing things can be destructive in their own way, but your magic sounds like it is something unusual, even for an elf. Fascinating. Are you sure you don’t have time for me to run a few tests?”
Essie opened her mouth to protest but stopped. For all his distraction over magic, Lance was the first person all day who had talked to Farrendel rather than simply talking to Essie about Farrendel while Farrendel stood right there. She glanced up at Farrendel and spoke in elvish. “It’s up to you. We have time, if you wish to put up with him.”
“Will he be able to tell me more about my magic?” Farrendel also spoke in elvish, and in his tone was a depth of longing and hurt.
His magic had been both a blessing and a curse to him. It made him Laesornysh, earning him the respect of his fellow elves when his illegitimate birth would’ve kept him an outcast. Yet it was also the reason the trolls had captured and tortured him. It was yet another thing that made him different from other elves, wielding this wild, destructive magic that killed instead of healed.
“I’m not sure he will be able to give you many answers, especially today. He probably won’t be able to tell you exactly why you have your type of magic, but he may, eventually, be able to figure out its limits and all of its potential uses. Testing takes time and lots of experimentation. A few tests today will help Lance figure out where to start, and he will probably want you to do more tests to determine more specifics later. That’s how the scientific process works.” Essie shrugged. “I can’t say for certain what answers Lance may find, given enough time and experimentation. In the end, you will probably have a better idea of how your magic works, even if you don’t know why.”
Farrendel faced Lance, his fingers tightening on Essie’s. “What would I have to do?”
“Excellent! Don’t worry. This shouldn’t hurt. Follow me to the back.” Lance snatched his magical sensor, spun on his heel, and waved over his shoulder. “Oh, and Princess Essie, you might as well come too.”
He scurried through the piles of metal scrap and half-finished devices so quickly Essie had to trot to keep up, though Farrendel had no trouble with his longer strides.
In the back, a large space had been cleared of junk. In the center, a magical power cell, nothing more than an empty canister with wires attached, rested within a mechanical device with more wires and dials. Essie had seen it before on trips to Lance’s workshop.
Here, Escarlish magicians worked with Lance to channel their magic to power the device. It was a melding of magic and machine that Essie didn’t fully understand and wasn’t about to ask Lance for an explanation. She’d made that mistake only once.
The device was surrounded by a shield of tempered glass and a waist-high wall of brick. Just in case something went wrong and the magician lost control or the magical device exploded, as often happened when
working with finnicky magic and touchy mechanics. A smaller shield of tempered glass stood between the magical device and the place where the magician would stand, marginal protection for him in case of an explosion.
Essie claimed a seat at an iron workbench behind the outer wall of glass and brick while Lance directed Farrendel to stand behind the smaller wall.
Lance retreated behind the large wall to a bank of dials and switches near Essie. Adjusting his goggles over his eyes, he flipped a few on, creating a low hum of noise. “All right, Prince Farrendel. Please produce a small amount of your magic. Don’t do anything with it yet. I would just like to observe how your magic manifests.”
The blue glow surrounded Farrendel’s hands, a crackle filling the air as the hum from the machinery grew louder. The magic grew into bolts of lightning curling around Farrendel, his hair rising from his shoulders.
The humming built into a shriek. Lance slapped a few more switches and pounded a few buttons. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! I said a small amount!”
The magic around Farrendel’s hands died until it was just a whisper of sparks that he’d used around her nephews.
“That’s good. Thanks. You can stop now for a minute.” Lance leaned against his machinery for a moment before he turned to Essie, his eyes wide even inside the goggles. “Just how powerful is he?”
“I’m pretty sure he could level this building if he wanted to.” Essie rolled one of Lance’s pencils across the desktop. She had seen Farrendel kill with his magic. That’s how powerful it was. “He doesn’t even know his own limits. He’s never let it get that uncontrolled.”
“A good thing for all of us.” Lance faced Farrendel again. “Let’s try that again, but this time touch your magic to that wire there over your head. Just a little bit, as gently as you can manage.”
Farrendel nodded. The blue sparks filled the space around him again.
“Just in case, close your eyes for a moment.” Lance’s voice was low, only for Essie to hear.
She squeezed her eyes shut. A moment later, a brilliant flash lit the space, bright even with her eyes closed. A zapping sound puffed out in a mini explosion.
When she dared crack her eyes open, white smoke puffed from the magical device. The wire that had once run to it was now completely gone.
Behind his protective barrier, Farrendel was blinking and rubbing at his ears, but he seemed unharmed.
“I was afraid of that.” Lance flipped off his switches, the humming sound dying. He strode around the wall toward his ruined machine. “Your magic is too powerful for this device. It might even be a problem with the compatibility of a device made for human magic and your elven magic. Let’s swap out the wire and a few of the mechanics and try again.”
Essie shook her head and searched the desk for a piece of paper. Lance would be at this for a while. She might as well sketch out what she’d had in mind for a heating device while she waited.
She drew a horrible sketch, then worked to refine it into something recognizable while Lance replaced parts and Farrendel blew up a few more magical devices. As he worked, Lance explained to Farrendel what he was doing, and Farrendel leaned close for a better look, occasionally asking questions. Somewhere along the way, Farrendel’s questions turned into full sentences.
Interesting. Lance wasn’t the person she would’ve expected Farrendel to bond with, but his excitement over Farrendel’s magic had won him over.
As Essie added the finishing touches to her sketch, Lance let out a whoop. She glanced up. The magical device whirred, blue light swirling inside it.
Farrendel strolled around the protective shield, and Lance clapped him on the shoulder and gave him an exuberant shake.
Footsteps drew Essie’s gaze. One of the guards marched into the workshop. “Princess? A crowd is gathering outside, and it doesn’t look like they will remain peaceful. We should go.”
“Of course. Thank you for staying alert.” Essie pushed up from the worktable. “Farrendel. Lance. The guards think it’s best if we head back to the palace.”
“Good timing. With this magical device, I will be able to perform tests.” Lance glanced back to the device, as if he itched to return to his experiments.
“Before you get wrapped up in studying Farrendel’s magic, could you look at this sketch?” Essie waved the sketch at him. “It’s the reason we came here today.”
“Right. Of course.” Lance took the paper from her.
She quickly explained what she wanted the machine to do. Lance nodded along, somewhat absently. She wasn’t sure if that was because his brain was spinning with ideas for the heating machine or if he was still distracted by Farrendel’s magic.
She didn’t care. If learning more about his magic could help Farrendel feel more in control, then she would support him all the way.
FOR THE FIRST TIME all day, Farrendel did not want to leave. Lance was a unique individual. He seemed to find Farrendel’s magic fascinating rather than dangerous or unnatural. No wonder he was a friend of Essie’s. Essie was one of the few other people who did not fear Farrendel because of his magic, even with everything she had seen of it.
When he had come with Essie to Escarland, all he had hoped was that her family would tolerate him. He had not expected to enjoy his time here once they had moved to Buckmore Cottage. He had especially not expected to discover that his magic worked better with human machines than it did with elven growing forests.
Elven magic and technology worked by growing and healing. By encouraging the forest to grow in the way they wished it to grow. His magic was such that his fellow elves could not envision a way to harness it in any manner other than death and destruction.
But if this Lance Marion could figure out a way to direct Farrendel’s magic to power something good and useful and nondestructive...
He could hardly imagine such an outcome. It meant his magic was meant for more than killing. That he was meant for more.
Essie slipped her hand into his as they strode through the heaps of metal and human machinery that filled the workshop, headed for the door.
As they stepped outside following the guard, Farrendel swept a gaze around the restless crowd growing around the entrance, only barely kept back by a small cordon of guards. A few shouts came from the back of the crowd. Something in a harsh tone about pointy-eared elves and a few other worse slurs that Farrendel wished he did not know even in Escarlish.
It was past time to leave. The crowd could turn ugly in a moment.
He had seen crowds like this before. His cheek throbbed with the memory of the results of one such mob. He had been the center of that one as well, for all that the insults had been in elvish as his own people turned on him.
He tensed, every muscle poised to react. His magic crackled beneath his skin, and he barely tamed it from exploding from his fingers. He could not use his magic on an Escarlish crowd. Essie’s friend Lance might find it fascinating, but the Escarlish citizens would not take it kindly if some of their own were attacked by an elf.
As Essie reached for Ashenifela’s bridle, a louder shout came from the crowd. A tomato whipped out of the mass of people, and it took all his discipline to do nothing but ease out of its path so that it sailed past his shoulder and splattered against the brick wall behind him. Bright red drooled like blood on the brick.
“Your Highnesses, please mount up.” The guard shoved Farrendel toward his horse, hands hard against the small of Farrendel’s back.
Farrendel dug his heels in, a hint of a crackle filling the air. He fought his instincts that wanted to lash out at the Escarlish guard shoving him.
“Farrendel, we need to go.” Essie touched his arm.
He suppressed his magic. With a nod, he took his horse’s reins from the guard.
They swung onto their horses. Two of the guards led the way, forcing their horses into the crowd. The other guards clustered tightly around Essie and Farrendel, so tightly he would not be able to use his magic even if he wanted to for fear of taking
out those nearest him.
The shouting. The jostling. It prickled against Farrendel’s skin, and he scanned the crowd. Too much danger here.
The guards led the way through the parting mob, turning the corner from the small side street where Lance’s workshop was located to one of the broader streets. Some human women with young ones bustled between the shops selling various small magical devices and mechanical devices, but human men outnumbered the women.
Behind them, some of the crowd from the alley spilled into this street. In minutes, the crowd grew dense and seething. Shouts filled the air.
Not good. Not good at all. Farrendel kept his horse tucked close to Essie on Ashenifela. If something bad were about to happen, it would happen soon.
Several rotten vegetables flew in their direction. The women tried to hurry their children from the boardwalk. With the street so crowded, many of the women and children had nowhere to go, trapped in corners without shops to duck into for safety.
A prickle across his scalp. He whirled, flaring his magic around them so abruptly all the horses snorted and shied, except for the two elven horses. A rock bounced from the shield of his magic.
But his instincts still screamed. Movement caught the corner of his eye.
Down. He needed to get Essie down and safe.
He launched himself from his horse and tackled Essie, cradling her against his chest. She gave a tiny squeak as they fell. He twisted and landed in a crouch, Essie pressed to his chest to keep her from slamming into the cobblestones.
A man stepped from the crowd, lifting a gun even as the crowd jostled him. A gunshot cracked, but the muzzle was not pointed at Farrendel or Essie.
Dropping Essie, Farrendel spun on his heel and flung himself forward, putting himself between the bullet and the unintentional targets. His magic flared and crackled around him, and something sparked into the smell of sulfur and heated metal.
He gritted his teeth at the screams behind him. A human woman hunched over her daughter. Did she understand that he was protecting her? Or did she think that Farrendel was the one attacking?