Wind Magic

by Nicolette Jinks

  We stood together without saying a word, watching moths fly across the sky.

  “Why did Caledon decide to stay on his Journey?”

  “In his words, he liked his freedom. The demands of his place here was laden with responsibilities. I believe, he was in pursuit of a female, however.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “He mentioned her in one of his final letters. Speaking of others was not a commonplace event.”

  “Huh. Think he was in love?”

  Aeron snorted in disgust, taking me by surprise. “It is not a generous thing for a father to say of his son, but Caledon's motivations were solely to obtain the unobtainable. The female in question, for unknown reasons, did not welcome Caledon's advances. She apparently mocked him for his interest, as well.”

  “What happened?”

  “He won, he lost, it was all a lie—I do not know, and I'm too concerned about the state of the colony to care about his conquests. What matters is what will happen to Mordon.” He rubbed his forehead. “And Caledon.”

  “I'm not excited about holding a public mating flight, and definitely not against Mordon's brother. It makes my skin crawl to think what would happen if Caledon caught me.”

  Aeron said without blinking, “You mate and cast away his product.” At my surprise, he said, “Just because you mate doesn't mean you have to use it. Or store it.”

  It took me a few long, confused minutes before I recalled that certain reptiles – snakes in particular or was it only snakes – could choose when and if to fertilize eggs. Very unlike anything I'd ever known in the human world.

  “Ohh.”

  The casual sex attitude made far more sense now I knew there was control over reproduction.

  Aeron was amused. “You did not know?”

  “Dragon form is a new thing to me. But with the mating flight, wouldn't that make Caledon the new leader?”

  “Supposing that he won the ring, yes. At least until Mordon trained enough to defeat him in a combat challenge.”

  So Aeron did not know of Caledon's reputation as a killer. I decided not to tell him. They were rumors, after all, and there was no need to give Aeron reason to worry.

  “About Mordon. When Caledon left, what did he do?”

  Aeron paused, a faraway glaze over his eyes. “He said he'd always known Caledon would pursue his own interest, suggested we give him six weeks after that letter to return, and move on if there was no word. We moved on. It was surprising how little changed. All these years, Mordon had been doing the true work and left Caledon to fill in the ceremonies. It seemed that the best possible thing had happened.”

  “Except for Caledon's return. Why do you think he decided to come back?”

  Aeron turned his head to the side, his inner concentration reflected in the way he rolled a pebble between thumb and forefinger. At last, he said, “I think he returned to us for the same reason that the journeymen do. It's home.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I was packing a cloth bag full of what I needed for a trip to study away from Caledon's snarling pollution when the smell of burning parchment reached me, cutting through the scent of bees wax and freshly laundered bedsheets. A scroll forming in the air caught my attention as it burned in reverse, leaving a coil of parchment behind the receding flames.

  I guided the letter closer with a touch of wind, then snatched the cool paper and hurried to read it. Too curly capitals ornamented the fake-bouquet perfumed paper. I squinted to make out the words as my eyes adjusted to the flourished handwriting.

  Fera,

  I wanted to let you know I’m being reassigned into another Market. Oberon is the one with a vacant seat, so I will likely go there. Leif says it’s for my protection, but it means Barnes won’t be able to go with me. I worry what will happen to him without me to brighten his day. You don’t know this, but he was very grim before us. I worry he’ll return to that depressed state if I go. It’s all in the future, though, for now it’s business as usual. Except it doesn’t feel that way.

  The market has security guards now. There are some contractors from dungeons, some fat old people who watch big events, and some serious private army types. Can you guess which ones watch the Council buildings and which ones watch the seamstresses and botanicals? Ha. Safety for the public, indeed. But so many people do like it. I don’t know how to feel.

  Leif. I’m worried about him. He’s rounded off his ears, left our Coven, and is with Cole’s cabinet. I thought it was all a mistake, but he won’t talk to me now. He blamed me for tying him down. Said he felt responsible for taking care of me, and he wants his own life. That the strain of dealing with you was too much, and yesterday’s inspection humiliated him so that he left. This was all in public. I threw a fit right back, said things I wish I hadn’t, and he just walked away.

  I’m meeting with Barnes for drinks. He’s here now.

  … at least, the one good thing about this is if I go to Oberon’s, I’ll be able to see my man. I’ve been keeping him secret. I didn’t know if we’d “work” or not, and I’m such a fool for falling too easily. That’s why I haven’t talked about him. We’ve taken it slow, but we need to pick up the pace or go separate ways. Maybe it’s meant to be, after all.

  Barnes is waiting. Have to go.

  Be careful what you write back.

  XOXO

  Lilly

  Well, well.

  That was a lot of news at once.

  I turned it over in my mind. Lilly had mentioned once that she may have found someone, but when she’d said nothing else about it, I had assumed that it was best to not ask. To spare her dignity. Was a man what she needed right now? Starting a new life and all...

  Who was I kidding? I was guilty of it, too, but it scared me to think I might be losing her.

  About Leif. I’d suspected some of this, but not what it had looked like. The commons lounge must be so empty now, without my brewing, without Mordon’s books everywhere. Granted, Leif was a quiet presence, but you always felt reassured when he was around.

  He’d be weird without his pointy ears. He’d look like a slight framed human, which must be the point, to downplay the Creature heritage. A pity, though, Elven men were considered a standard of unachievable beauty by many people in the Market.

  The guards weren’t as bad as I’d anticipated after reading Leif’s message. This took their threat down a bit. Some guards were good ones, some were excuses. That played into the public’s favor, as it meant both that some guards would be on their side and that others would be easily overcome by the civil defense. If push came to shove. I hoped it wouldn’t.

  Lilly’s reassignment was unexpected. Though, now that I thought about it, Leif really did care for her so she was his weak spot, the way Cole could ensure that he was kept loyal. Was her move orchestrated by Leif to keep her safe, or by Cole to keep Leif on his toes? As she said, she would remain at Merlyn’s for a time, so that was good. Perhaps it would be for the best if she got a fresh start on her own. She’d never wanted to be stuck in the same place as Leif, but what a way to get started in a new direction.

  ...thinks the woman who started a new life under far stranger circumstances.

  I sighed.

  Mordon found me, rubbed my shoulders which had gone tense after the arrival of this letter. His lips brushed my ear as he asked, “Who is it from?”

  “Lilly,” I said and held the letter up for him.

  He let go of my shoulders to read it. In the end, he asked, “Why did she burn you a letter when you both have bottles?”

  “The bottle only works for small messages. And Lilly has a lot to say.”

  The furrow disappeared from between his brows. “Things are changing,” he said.

  “Things will always change. It’s people who try to stay the same, and they get left behind.”

  Mordon was quiet, stroking the bare skin of his chin.

  I wondered what he was thinking as he walked with me, but when I asked, he sh
rugged and said, “Nothing, love.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A black envelope from Death was waiting for me when I visited my barn partly to see if Death was here, partly with the intent of scoping this out as a good practice location for the flights. Barbeque chicken cooking in the crock pot made my mouth water.

  The envelope rested on my work counter, a pot drying on a tea towel and fresh groceries on top of the minifridge the only indication that someone was living here. Things were clearly disturbed, with some areas sparkling clean, others cluttered with projects I hadn’t started.

  My barn was undergoing a conversion to a house, the process stalled with the recent rediscovery of my magic and all activity associated with a new life. Death had stained the concrete floor a slate gray before placing symbols beneath every door and window in white chalk. One spell I knew was a ward called Claire's Refuge, an intelligent spell of Merlynian origin which prevented unfriendly people from entering a house. The others I didn't know yet, but I suspected they'd take a similar tack as Claire's Refuge. But I didn’t feel intruded upon. The house now felt cared-for and friendly. As if Death had always been my roommate.

  The note left for me was short and folded around a pin shaped like a thimble.

  The remote location suits. Do not wait for me. I am busy. Seek audience with the First Order immediately, all other traces of Broken Feather are eliminated. Enclosed is my insignia. --Death

  I crunched the letter to prompt its transformation into feathers. “I guess I should be glad you've exhausted other sources for me.”

  On a whim, I tried sticking the tips of the feather into the open end of the pin. The feathers melded, turned into a heavy obsidian. It must have been the correct thing to do.

  “I wonder what this does?”

  Minutes later found me without an obvious clue. Should this pin be a trinket, I hadn't a clue what it would do. However, Julius Septimus may tell me. I might as well ask him if I was going to have him introduce me to the First Order.

  I glanced at the time. Druidan and Nest had scheduled for an evening flight with me, and it was not even noon yet. Mordon was occupied at Kragdomen, and I wanted to keep out from under Caledon's boots at all costs. Once he was awake, there would be trouble. The best time to go on Death's goose chase was now.

  Another check of my house revealed something. The salty sting of the seaside tempered by the stink of thick mud; with the twist of the wind, a whiff of butter and baked peaches; another writhe of the air delivered the taint of hot metal in a shop; I tried to pick out another destination but a dizzying eddy of complex layers swamped me. Each wind curled a finger at me, beckoning a siren’s call to see where they came from.

  I cleared my throat, tried to clear my head. Then returned the dusty air from the wheat fields outside, grounding me once again as I tried to recall what I’d been looking for in the first place. One thing was very obvious:

  Death had been busy making portals.

  One of them I could use now.

  Selestiani's guest-receiving gardens had burst into a riot of color since my last visit. A round slab of granite served as both portal and landing pad, its smooth surface marred by three claw gouges. Drifting clouds obscured both the settlement and the forest below, momentarily making me dizzy. The teasing scent of rain lingered in the air, upsetting my peace of mind. While it was welcoming here, I couldn’t help but feel forbidden for the way I’d left it last time.

  Carefully, I crossed over the dewy granite. At the crunch of gravel under my shoes, I paused to decide on a direction. A flash of movement made me jump.

  “Milady! To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  I recognized Valerin's voice before I got a view of his body outlined in the mists surrounding the waterways. Like Mordon, he was lean and strong, but not as powerful. Valerin swept his dark hair back out of his face, blue eyes shining. Before I could answer, he stretched out a hand.

  “Let's have something hot to drink. The skies are a little cold today. You can tell me what brings you.”

  We moved through flowers as tall as my shoulders. I shivered. He was right, it was a bit cold today. By the time we were wrapped in the warm humidity of a retro inspired diner, I was positively chilled in my summer-weight clothes.

  We entered a small shop with frescoes on the walls and rustic tables. I sat by a fire bowl which burned a green flame.

  “Thought the next time I would see you would be at a public gathering,” Valerin said after ordering a pot of coffee.

  “I wasn't expecting it to be so soon, either.”

  He smiled, his blue eyes bright. “Is it too much to hope you will be joining us? Anna has missed you.”

  “Calling her Anna now?”

  “The nickname has stuck.”

  I wanted to see her again. “That's not why I came. I'm afraid I am hunting for answers.”

  He didn't look disappointed, rather it was as if he had expected it. The coffee came, arriving in an elegant copper pot with long legs and a spout like a swan's neck, scented with green cardamon and anise. A fine, pale foam lined the ridge of my porcelain cup when Valerin poured the espresso-strength coffee.

  “It's amazing,” I said after an appreciative sip.

  “It is a favorite of mine,” Valerin said. He savored a long, slow drink.

  I wondered for a fleeting moment how my life would be different if I'd opted to live here instead. This coffee I could definitely get used to making a habit of. Not to mention, the phoenixes were far more tolerant of diversity.

  Valerin put his cup down. “Anything I can do for you?”

  “Hmm.” I reviewed the list in my head. “I would like to meet with the First Order, which means I need Julius.”

  “He is in a town hall meeting, you can talk to him after. Unless it is an emergency?”

  “No, but it is a priority.”

  “Understood. Is that all?”

  “Can I hold you to confidentiality?”

  Valerin's posture stiffened slightly. He placed a hand over my own. “Always. What service may I provide?”

  “I would like advice on drake politics.”

  He smiled. “I could keep you all week if you want them explained.”

  “That won't be necessary.” I considered how to best sum-up the situation. “Mordon's older brother has returned to Kragdomen to lay claim to the rulership—and to me, if I don't fly well.”

  Valerin went still, his eyebrows pinched together as he took in the news.

  I continued, “I would prefer to pick one, fly him, and consider it over, but the others say it can't be that simple.”

  Valerin withdrew, a quiet drumming of his fingers against the table as he thought. “This brother. What is his name?”

  “Caledon.”

  “Caledon.” Valerin shook his head. “What were the Elders thinking, naming one brother Caledon and the other Mordon?”

  “They believe rather firmly in reading the stars.” I shrugged. “If my mythology serves, Mordon's name sees people through wars.”

  “And Caledon is the one who starts them.”

  “Alright, but is his namesake all you have against Caledon?”

  Valerin shook his head in a way that suggested he would rather be proven wrong. “Caledon is a name known throughout the outcasts and brideknappers. Ruthless. He's killed five men in mating flights and rejected the women once they bored him.”

  I frowned. “He doesn't seem the type to be abusive outright?”

  Valerin hesitated. “No one has ever proven that is, outside of a challenge or flight. He does have a temper, but it is largely dismissed. He does know the limits to the rules of engagement and he stays well enough on the right side of them. In many ways, he is a terrible opponent—controlled enough to not be swayed by passion, practiced enough to do exactly as he wants, and arrogant enough to think that gives him the right to be as he is. Stay out of the air when he is around.”

  A lump of frustration formed in my throat. I ran my thum
b over the ornamented end of the tea spoon. “I have to practice being in the wind, Valerin.”

  He dipped his head, acknowledging my comment. “I spoke too strongly. Caledon will not pose a threat to you outside of mating flights or sanctioned challenges. He may interfere with Mordon, however, and he will seize any weakness in your guard.”

  “If I shouldn't start a mating flight, then what? It's a matter of time before Mordon challenges him.”

  “Take practice flights with Mordon. Learn to coordinate your patterns. A strong mating pair will always out-fly others, but you need to practice. Once you're ready, hold the mating flight before a third party as witness. Selestiani may serve as an impartial host, or even the First Order. Where this determines the rulership of Kragdomen, it is important that there is no doubts as to the victor.”

  I scowled. “I ought to have a say in who 'flies' me.”

  Valerin blinked rapidly in surprise. “You do—on a private level. But the mating flight for the ruler of Kragdomen is open to eligible heirs. Was this not explained?”

  “I might not have been too receptive of the concept.” I remembered Mordon's attitude on casual sex. “So I could choose exclusivity as a paramour, but to have a position at the Elder's table, I need to accept whoever wins the flight.”

  “Not necessarily. I've told you, strong pairs working together always out-fly the others.”

  “Right. And Selestiani is a guaranteed host?”

  He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “It would be an exciting event.”

  I nodded slowly. “Guess that's what we will do.”

  “Do not make the mistake of rushing. And keep your fire drake in line. A battle challenge will not go in his favor. That much I do know about Caledon.”

  The town hall was a stunning example of classical architecture. Giant, smoothly sloping pillars, vaulted ceilings, floors that sang out echoes with every footstep. Incense sticks jutted out of stands, fermenting the air with a sweet, lemony smell.