They reached the back of the hall, Aeris floating next to Simon and Kronk and his fellow earth elementals tapping along behind. Clara opened a door and waved them inside.
Her main living room was bright and airy. Windows framed with lace curtains let in the afternoon sunlight, and several vases filled with summer flowers gave the air a sweet scent.
Clara invited Simon to sit on an overstuffed leather chair, a holdover from the old days, and he collapsed into it gratefully. She left the room through another door and he took a moment to speak with his friends.
“How was the journey, guys?” he asked Kronk and the others. “Any problems getting here?”
“Oh no, master,” Kronk said as he hopped up on the arm of the chair. The other earthen stood scattered at Simon's feet and watched him brightly. “We travel through the ground the way a bird flies through the air.” He looked up at the hovering Aeris. “As the air elementals do.”
“Good. That's good,” Simon said. He motioned for Aeris to come closer and lowered his voice.
“Go and say hello to our four rescued Changlings, why don't you? See how they're doing.”
And he gave the floating figure a significant look.
Aeris nodded once.
“Of course. I know how much you worry about them.”
His tone was light but Simon knew he understood and the air elemental disappeared with a subdued pop.
Clara walked back into the room as Simon was examining several paintings that hung from her walls. They were mostly landscapes, but one was a portrait of the cleric. It was very good.
She was carrying a tray and set it down on a table between Simon's chair and a couch.
“Have some tea, Simon,” she said as she poured him a cup. “Your chamomile has been a blessing, let me tell you. It's a comfort on cold nights.”
“Thanks,” he said after accepting the cup. “I'm glad you like it. The stuff grows like weeds, thanks to Kronk's soil enrichment program.”
He grinned at the little guy who bowed slightly.
“I'll send more down in a few weeks,” he added.
Simon sipped the tea gratefully and nodded at the paintings.
“So who's the gifted artist? The work is quite good.”
Clara offered him a plate of biscuits and then followed his gaze.
“Brianna, believe it or not. The guard that you met at the gate. She claims that before the Change she couldn't even draw a straight line, but now? She's amazing.”
“I agree.”
He tried a biscuit and his eyes widened.
“These are awesome! Light, flaky. Whole wheat?”
Clara smiled.
“Correct. We make the best we can with what we have.” She bit into one and chewed appreciatively. “Yes, they are quite good.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the snack, each lost in their own thoughts and then Simon sat up and cleared his throat.
“If we want these guys to start your wall, Clara, we'd best get at it while the daylight remains. Did you map the layout for them?”
She stood up.
“Yes, of course.”
She walked across the room to a large bureau, opened a drawer and rummaged through it.
“Ah, here we are,” she said and walked over to Simon.
She handed him a square of paper and he looked it over. Kronk climbed up on the back of the chair and peered over Simon's shoulder.
The drawing was precise. It showed the town and all of its buildings, the old wooden wall and the proposed stone wall just outside of that. Kronk looked at the layout closely and then nodded.
“It will do, lady cleric,” he rumbled. “But you have neglected to put in a second gate.”
Clara walked to the side of Simon's chair and stared at the drawing.
“Do you really think we need one? Wouldn't a second gate weaken our defenses somewhat?”
Simon held the map and stayed quiet. This was Clara's project, not his and he let her work it out with Kronk.
“Perhaps, but a second, smaller gate will give you a chance of retreat should your main gate ever fall.” He jumped back to the arm of the chair and pointed at the rear of the wall. “And when your people come and go from the fields, it will be less tiring for them if they have a choice of entrances into the town, instead of just one.”
“Oh, of course. I should have thought of that. About here?” she asked and pointed at a spot behind the town.
“Yes, that will be fine. May I?” he asked Simon, who handed him the drawing.
The little guy jumped to the floor and spread out the paper for the other elementals. The six of them spoke together in their low, rumbling language.
Clara caught Simon's eye as she sat down on the couch again and indicated the little group.
“You know, it's like something out of a dream to watch this scene. A wizard sits in my drawing room and at his feet, six earth elementals map out a wall. It feels almost unreal.”
Simon picked up another biscuit and examined it.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he answered as he ate the pastry slowly. “I interact with them on a daily basis and sometimes I almost have to pinch myself to believe that this is all real.”
The elementals stopped speaking and Kronk held up the drawing for Simon to take.
“We are ready, master. Shall we begin?”
Simon looked at Clara.
“Are your people aware of what we're doing today? I'd rather Kronk and his crew aren't attacked by jumpy villagers.”
Clara smiled.
“They have been warned.” She stood up and looked down at Kronk. “But I'll take your friends through the village and remind folks of what is about to happen. They can pass the word.” She grinned at the group. “I warn you though, you'll probably have an audience during your construction.”
“We don't mind, lady,” Kronk rumbled. “We will spend most of the task underground. Please ask your people to stay clear of the wall while we raise it.”
“Good idea. Come along and I'll do that now. Make yourself at home, Simon. I'll be back shortly.”
Simon nodded and watched her lead the little group of builders back into the main hall. Then he say back, grimaced at a twinge of pain in his back and sipped more tea. It was shaping up to be a busy day.
Chapter 17
While Clara was gone, Simon decided that sitting too long would invite stiffness after his ride, so he stood up and wandered around the room. He admired the paintings up close and then browsed the many books in a large bookcase along the wall across from the couch.
Simon had never seen many of the tomes and several caught his eye.
“Terrors of the Night. Hauntings and Nightmares. Demons After Dark. What the hell?” he muttered as he read the titles aloud. Where had she come across these books? And why were there so many of them?
As he went through the small library, Simon began to feel a little uneasy. Hadn't Clara mentioned seeing creatures at night? And wasn't that why she was so anxious to have Kronk build a decent wall for her village? If that was the case, how convenient that she had so many books about scary monsters. Coincidence?
When Clara returned, Simon was sitting again, finishing a second cup of tea. She smiled at him and plunked herself down on the couch.
“Well, they've started,” she said as she poured herself some tea. “I've warned my people to give them plenty of room while they build the wall, but I'm afraid that there won't be any work done by the folks here for the rest of the day.” She laughed to herself. “They'll be too distracted watching the show to do their chores.”
Simon echoed her chuckle.
“Kronk doesn't mind an audience. He's very single-minded when he's working.”
He nodded at her bookshelf.
“You have some interesting books in your collection,” he told her casually.
Clara grimaced as she followed his gaze.
“There's a ruined town not too far from here. They had a local li
brary and when we started seeing strange things at night, I sent Richard and Michael down to search for any reference material that might help us identify them.” Then she shuddered. “I don't think they've helped me much, except to give me nightmares.”
The cleric got up and walked over to the bookshelf. She scanned the books for a long moment, then pulled one out. She walked back and handed it to Simon, then sat down again.
“Read that. I've marked the relevant page,” she told him and drank tea as he examined the book curiously.
“Ancient Evils: The Folklore and the Facts? Lovely title.”
“Yes, isn't it though? I don't know who the librarian was in the town, but their tastes seemed to run to the macabre.”
Simon opened the book and found the bookmark inside. He scanned the page, shivered and then read out loud.
“Haunting graveyards, demonic souls would often possess the bones of the dead to assume physical form. The wights, as they were called, had a taste for human flesh and suffering and would waylay travelers in the dark of night. Their victims would be cursed to join their ranks.”
He closed the book, handed it back and looked at Clara gravely.
“Lovely. Do you believe that something like these wights are in the area?”
She shook her head.
“Frankly I don't believe in any of that stuff. But I've been warned,” and she tapped her head, “that old evils are returning and I have a...feeling that these monsters are what we might be facing.”
She stood up and began pacing nervously.
“My people are all Changlings, Simon, but although they now have talents and gifts that their old selves did not, the only ones who can use magic are myself and...”
She stopped and looked at him directly.
“What did you think of the four young people that you saved from that human village?”
The question caught Simon by surprise and he stared at her.
“Why do you ask?”
She ran her fingers over the cover of the book in her hands and frowned at it.
“I don't know. There's something there. I get the feeling that they are hiding something. We know that Anna has a touch of power; her ability to disappear is evidence of that. But I think there's more to it. There is a...darkness in them that I've never sensed from anyone else. Not my own people, not you, no one. Except them. They have secrets, Simon.”
He began to object and she waved him back impatiently.
“Oh, I know, I know. We all have secrets. Secret desires, secret dreams and plans. I'm not speaking of them.”
She slipped the book back into the bookshelf and turned and looked at him soberly.
“These are dark secrets that may threaten my people. And I won't have it. I'll tell you honestly, my friend, because you've been nothing but honest with me: if I still have my doubts about them by the end of the summer, I will have no choice but to turn them out. I will not allow them to be locked in here with us come winter. It would be too great a risk.”
Simon was stunned by Clara's revelation.
“That's...a bit harsh, isn't it?” he asked faintly.
She walked to a small table near the bookshelf, pulled out one of the chairs next to it and sat down. She motioned for Simon to join her and he got up, walked over and sat down beside her.
The table was covered with a lovely cloth stitched with small designs. He saw stalks of wheats and small flowers cheerfully running around its border. The very homeyness of the scene jarred with the cleric's cold statement of intent. He looked at her closely.
“Would you actually send four people out into the wilderness to face whatever is out there? To die beneath the claws of some beast or worse? Or to freeze to death without shelter in the middle of winter?”
His tone was harsher than he had intended and Clara flinched, but maintained her gaze.
“It is a choice, my friend. A choice between people who I know and trust and love and others who may threaten them. It is a hard world that we find ourselves in.” She turned away. “Do you think I wanted to lead this village? That I ran for office or took over because I thought I was the best choice? I didn't. They asked me to lead, put me here because, I suppose, I'm seen as some sort of matronly figure. But for whatever reason, I'm stuck with the job. And I will do whatever I have to do to ensure my people's survival.”
She turned back to look at Simon who stared at her silently.
“Well, don't just sit there. Say something! Argue with me, convince me that I'm crazy, tell me what a bad person I am. I'll listen to whatever you have to say.”
It was Simon's turn to look away from her obvious distress.
She isn't cold or heartless, he thought. She's tortured by this. And what can I say to her?
He cleared his throat and clasped his hands together on the table.
“I don't know what I can say to you. But I think it's time to share a theory that Aeris and I have about what really happened when their village was destroyed.”
“What really happened? What do you mean? Did they lie to us?”
“Maybe it was only a sin of omission. Maybe we are totally off-track on this. But I wanted to wait until we spoke face to face before telling you about it, The Magic Mouth spell is too impersonal for something like this.”
He took a deep breath and explained what he thought happened on the night of the attack. He told it simply and clearly and then sat back and waited for Clara's reaction.
“They lured the dragon's minions into their village? To kill the true humans?” she repeated with disbelief.
“Maybe, Clara. Maybe. But before you rush to judgment, remember what they had probably suffered for three years. Enslavement. Torture. Assault and worse. As Aeris asked me, so will I ask you: wouldn't you have done the same in their circumstances?”
Clara made a gesture of denial but then caught herself and sagged a bit in her chair.
“I can't honestly say no. I wish I could, but I can't.”
She looked across the room at one of Brianna's paintings. It was a sweet scene of two children running through high grass, the very picture of innocence. Simon found himself smiling at memories of his own youth.
“Well, there's only one thing to do,” the cleric said abruptly and she stood up.
Simon looked at her enquiringly.
“I think I need to speak with all of them, together. I want the truth and one thing I can do as a cleric is tell when someone is lying to my face. Today, while your elementals are building our wall, seems an appropriate time to clear the air.”
She reached out and gave Simon's shoulder a shake.
“I'd like you to join me, if you would. These four people have some sort of power that I cannot define and your presence would be reassuring to me.” She smiled crookedly. “And it might convince them to be more forthcoming if a wizard sat in on our conversation.”
Simon stood up as well but he shook his head.
“I doubt that. If they are lying, they lied to my face on the day we rescued them. But I'll stay with you. It's my theory that started this and, honestly, I'm curious about what really happened. I don't think they're evil, Clara. But we'll see.”
“Very well. Thank you. It will take a little time to round them all up. Would you like to wait here or...?”
“I'll just go and unsaddle Chief. If I could get a bucket of water for him, it would be appreciated.”
“Of course. Follow me and I'll show you where to go.”
They left the hall and Clara showed him where the community pump was located. She found a wooden bucket and then told him she'd be back soon.
Simon filled the bucket, greeted a few villagers and complimented them on their little town and then returned to Chief.
He stripped the saddle and blanket off the big horse as the stallion sucked up the water noisily. He pulled a rag out of one of his saddlebags and wiped down the horse's sweaty back. Then he set the saddle and blanket against the side of the hall, patted Chief a few times and got
slobbered on in return.
“Gee thanks,” he spluttered and wiped off his face. Chief whickered in response and Simon shook his finger at him.
Then he picked up his saddlebags and entered the hall again.
In the center of the main room, several skylights let in the late afternoon sun and Simon sat on a bench and pulled out his spell-book. He wasn't really sure why he'd brought it, but had absently tossed it into the bags along with a water bottle and some dried fruit.
Now he read through it, found some spells that might come in handy and memorized them quickly. He was able to remember four spells now, and had several utility spells permanently memorized, including the Magic Mouth spell.
Getting better, he thought. Getting better. Let's just hope I don't have to use any of these.
Then he slipped the book back into his bags and sat in the hall thinking about the meeting to come.
It wasn't long afterward that Clara returned. She spotted Simon as she entered the hall and nodded once in approval.
Behind her, Eric, Gerard, Virginia and Anna filed in, followed by Michael and, surprisingly, Susan.
Trailing behind them, apparently unnoticed, was Aeris. He flitted across the room to hover next to Simon. His expression was one of careful neutrality.
Michael was wearing his usual armor and greeted Simon with a smile. Susan had her bow and greeted him as well, but her face was grave.
“Why don't we all take a seat?” Clara said and pointed to a bench across from where Simon was sitting.
The four Changlings exchanged glances and then sat down slowly, looking, Simon thought, like twitchy rabbits.
Anna's eyes were huge and Eric, the tallest of them, patted her back gently. Then he looked at Simon with some confusion.
“Hi Simon,” he said calmly. “We heard you'd arrived with your elementals to build a wall around the village. Nice to see you again.”
“Thanks, Eric. It's good to see all of you doing so well. Aeris has told me that you're fitting in nicely here and I'm glad to hear it.”
“Thank you, Simon,” Virginia said. Her voice was a bit shaky. “And now that the amenities are out of the way, what exactly is going on here? Clara,” she glanced at the cleric who was now sitting near Simon, “told us that she wanted to talk about something important. But with you here, not to mention a guard and the ranger, it feels more like the beginnings of an interrogation.”
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