Niva, who had been curled in the corner, took that moment to yawn and stretch. “They are coming,” he said, his massive body weaving nimbly around the furniture to meet the newcomers at the door.
The heavy door swung open to reveal first Firan then Rian, Vaughn, Sylvan and Reks followed by the dragon. Serra saw the tiny glowing body of Thistle hiding amongst the long strands of Sylvan’s hair.
Mistress Vaneza moved to stand next to Niva and placed a hand on his large head. Whether to restrain the beast or to indicate her sway over him, Serra did not know
“Welcome, Your Highness.” She tilted her head down a quarter inch, hardly a sign of respect. “Natesa Sylvandra der Harfina.” She bowed her chin to her chest, before glancing at the others. “Vaughn. Thief Lord.”
Serra stood up from her chair, anxious to see if any of them had been hurt during the altercation that had surely occurred between her companions and the gargoyles. She breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing no immediate injuries on their person. Her movement caught their attention and they too seemed to relax upon seeing her.
“Please, do join us. We were just having a snack.” She motioned and immediately the table expanded to accommodate the larger number of people. Two more chairs appeared as well.
Reks strode across the room to take a seat next to Serra. “Are you hurt?” he asked under his breath. Serra shook her head.
The others followed a bit more sedately, especially Vaughn whose distrust was plain on his face. As he passed her, Firan snapped at his heels, no doubt intending to hurry him across the room. Instead, he kicked backwards catching the chimera on her nose. She roared in pain and anger and no doubt would have mauled him then and there if Mistress Vaneza had not shouted.
“Firan! I told you they are our guests. I will not tolerate such behavior.” She pointed an imperious finger toward the door. “Out!” The stone chimera slunk out of the room, her lizard tail tucked between her legs. “You two might as well join her,” the mage said to her other guardians. They left and Mistress Vaneza closed the door behind them.
“I apologize for Firan, Vaughn. She has never liked you much.”
“As the bitch does so the pup will follow.” He murmured, before taking his place at the table.
A tight smile crossed the mage’s face. “Yes, well. That is all in the past. I must say I’m quite amazed to find you in such exalted company, though these days the princess of the dryads is a questionable companion. You do know the king has declared war on the Dryads, don’t you? He has started imprisoning those who oppose his position.”
“You’re joking, surely!” Rian exclaimed.
“Indeed, I’m quite serious. He is saying it is treason to think his word is nothing but the truth.” Rian’s face turned red with shame for his father’s actions. Never in her seventeen years had Serra considered the king to be a tyrant. But then they had never been in a situation of crisis before, as they were now.
“My father is, at the present time, an idiot.” Rian stated to no one in particular.
“Yes, well, I am glad to hear you admit it,” said Mistress Vaneza. “But it does not solve the problem that is facing us. I have already told Serra that I am not the mage you are looking for.” she held up a hand to silence Vaughn who had started to speak. “I have also told her that you are more than welcome to search my grounds and buildings. I will remove my protective spells from all of my doors, with the exception of my work room, which has many sensitive experiments at present in it to allow you to blunder through it. I will however open a protected window for you to see into the room. I am sure that Sylvan will be able to sense any magic that is still in place.” Sylvan nodded. “Good. That takes care of one problem. The next is to figure out who exactly is doing the kidnapping. While I hate to think that one of my own is the culprit the facts are the facts. However, more mages are born every day, soon there will be an equal number of mages to mortals, or at least there should be.”
She stood from the table and moved to a bookshelf where she picked up a thick leather bound journal and returned to the table with it.
“These are the names of all the children I have given Caste Marks to in the last ten years. We mages tend to break them up according to area, but recently Master Verteri has been unable to travel and I accepted his area along with my own.” She opened the book to a marked page and placed it in the middle of the table before pointing to a name. Serra bent forward.
“Hunter Strop.” She was confused. “The boy from County Plysa?”
“Yes.” The mage moved her finger to a small mark next to his name. “Do you see this here? This mark indicates that when I gave him his Mark I felt the footprints of magic on his being.” Serra looked down the list, as did her companions. Just under half the names on the list had the mark next to their names. Serra began to realize just how many of the names she recognized. Sylvan pulled out her sheaf of parchment and flipped through the pages.
“Most of the names with the mark next to them are on this list.”
Mistress Vaneza nodded. “Yes, I had noticed that.”
“So, someone is not just kidnapping children they are taking potential mages?” Vaughn asked.
“You always were a quick one, Vaughn.” Her tone indicated that it was not meant to be a compliment. “There is the possibility that although Masters Verteri and Piran, Mistresses Wylda and Alida and myself are the supposed most powerful Mages in Iperia, there might be one out there that is more powerful than all of us put together.”
Serra closed her eyes. This was not what she wanted to hear. Their only hope of discovering who was really behind this was the five strongest mages in Iperia. If there was a mage out there who was stronger than the ones they knew about, there was very little chance of them discovering who it was in time to stop them. If Master Verteri was correct they only had a couple months to figure it out.
But that Mistress Vaneza had even hinted at the idea that someone out there had more power than her was enough to make Serra believe it a possibility.
Mistress Vaneza broke the silence. “If I were you, Serra, I would be particularly careful in guarding your ability. If whoever is taking children discovers that you are a shifter, I am certain that you would not be safe. For all intents and purposes, you are now the most powerful mage in Iperia. To be able to shift your entire body takes more magic then you can even imagine, but you do not know how to govern your power. It would be of little use to you in any situation you might face.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, her green eyes intense. “They will try to take you.”
“I would love to see them try.” Reks said. It was the first time he had spoken since asking after Serra’s health.
Blood rushed into her cheeks as her companions nodded in agreement with his comment. Serra smiled tremulously at them, touched that they cared for her so much. She had never thought to inspire that sort of loyalty in anyone other than Eva and that had taken years for them to establish.
“How very gallant of you, but I should think you would be hard pressed to stop the death muxins, Thief Lord, but you are more than welcome to try should they discover Serra’s secret.” She stood from the table and moved to the door. “Now, as a sign of my good will I will allow you to return to your camp and gather your things and your horses. The gate will be opened to you when you come back to search my property.” She smiled. “I do hope you will stay here during your search.”
Mistress Vaneza established them in a set of rooms that overlooked the Audrys Plains. Serra stood at the window in her bedroom and looked out. She could see for miles with nothing to break the landscape, not one tree or hill, just flat grassland. Far in the distance, she could see what looked like the outline of buildings and she assumed that it was the town nearest to the citadel.
All through their inspection of the Citadel, Serra remained silent of what had transpired between herself and Mistress Vaneza. She was not quite certain of what to make of it herself and felt pressing the confusion that
plagued her onto her companions would be unkind.
Until she knew more of her past she would keep the possibility of being the daughter of a god to herself.
Rian pressed her about what she and the mage had talked about, but Serra refused to speak on the matter. She did however approach Vaughn when she found him alone in one of the rooms in the basement and told him what Mistress Vaneza had told her about her feelings on Vaughn’s relationship with Aloisa.
Serra had been unsure of whether telling him was the right choice, but as she related their conversation, his face seemed to almost clear of the gloom that had permeated it since their arrival at the citadel. Serra knew the thoughts that were going through his head, as she’d had the same thoughts herself. It was possible that there was still hope for Vaughn and Aloisa, at least as far as Mistress Vaneza was concerned. Vaughn had only to prove that he truly did love Aloisa to have the mage’s consent. Serra did not want to point out to her friend that he would also have to prove to Aloisa that he was indeed the man that she belonged with.
Serra left Vaughn feeling better than she had expected and continued with her search. She had been given the task of making her way through the first floor. There was not much to do as the first floor held the great hall and the staircases. Though she did discover a set of doors carved into the stone, one of which led to the basement where Vaughn was searching and the other led to the kitchens in the back of the house.
Serra poked through the cupboards and pantry in the kitchen, keeping her eye out for the indications of magic that Sylvan had warned her about. She saw no distortion of shape, no shimmer of light, nothing, only enough food stored in the pantry to feed an army for a year. Though this did not seem particularly sane, it in no way indicated that there was anything foul going on in the citadel. Perhaps Mistress Vaneza merely liked to be prepared for any eventuality.
Having finished her search of the first floor Serra began to look about the grounds. She started in the stables, paused over each of their mounts to stroke their manes and give them each an apple from the barrel by the door. She searched the corners of the building, making certain to move the hay from the ground, lest it be concealing a trap door. Moving the large bales was hard work, but Serra welcomed it. She felt more at home in a stable then in the grand rooms of the house. She was used to pitching hay and mucking out stalls.
When Sylvan came upon her, Serra was sweating, her face red from exertion. The Dryad wrinkled her nose. “Have you found anything?”
Serra shook her head, hauling a bale of hay back to its original spot.
“I haven’t either. Neither has anyone else. I think Mistress Vaneza might indeed be telling us the truth about her innocence.”
“Did she show you her work room?”
Sylvan sat on a bale of hay that Serra had just dropped back to its place. “Yes, she did. But there was nothing in it to indicate guilt, merely some experiments that even I don’t understand.” She watched as Serra moved another bale of hay. “Do you want me to help you?”
Serra stopped moving and ran a hand across her forehead, breathing hard. “I certainly wouldn’t refuse it. But I understand if you don’t want to. Mistress Vaneza was nice enough to let us check her home for signs of her guilt. The least I can do is put things back where I found them.”
Sylvan held up her hand and crooked her finger in the direction of the bales of hay that Serra had yet to put back. As one they rose about a foot in the air and moved to where the pile had been before Serra had moved them all. With a thud, they dropped back to their places and Serra sighed.
“Why didn’t I have you come and help me sooner?” She placed her hands on the small of her back and stretched, wincing. “I always choose to do things the hard way.”
Sylvan laughed. “Come on, I’ll give you a salve to help your muscles feel better.” She led the way out of the stables and Serra hobbled after her.
They spent two days at Mistress Vaneza’s citadel. Most of their time was spent checking and rechecking the rooms that they had been over before. Rian was the one who suggested it to the group though Serra suspected that Vaughn was behind the request, as he spent a good portion of his time with Mistress Vaneza trying to convince her of his worth.
He got on tolerably well, as far as Serra could see and it appeared that although Mistress Vaneza in no way liked Vaughn, she no longer loathed him as she had before their visit to her home.
Perhaps the fact that he was no longer with her niece had something to do with it.
Vaneza’s warning of Serra’s safety ringing in their ears. Serra was inclined to shake off the dire declarations of discovery, but her companions warned her against using her ability for the remainder of their journey. They wished to take no risks with her safety.
As they left the gates of the citadel, a drizzling rain began to fall from the sky. With no hope of shelter from the cold drops, thanks to their path through the plains, the companions pulled their hoods over their heads and hunkered down to ride through the light rain.
By midmorning the rain had turned from a drizzle to a downpour. Serra felt the moisture soak through her heavy coat to wet her clothes underneath. That alone was bad enough but with the downpour came the wind, harsh and cold, that whipped her coat and pulled at her hood. The cold began to permeate her flesh and bones.
Thistle tinkled miserable from her place inside Serra’s hood, where she cowered against Serra’s neck.
Serra did not blame the pixie. It was nasty weather to be out in. She did not even want to think about what the mountains would be like when they traveled through them.
The flat land of the plains afforded them a quick pace and within four days they had reached the outskirts of Carpius despite the rain that was now their constant companion. From here they would travel North until they reached the Lynse River, which they would follow in the Anile Mountains to Hawksong Peak and Brencis.
Chapter 19
SERRA
Carpius was the biggest city Serra had ever been in. A year ago, Lady Hadrienne had brought Eva to the capital city to meet with the best seamstresses to design Eva’s Maiden’s day dress. She had demanded that Serra stay home due to her lack of Caste Mark. Eva had been too excited about her trip to put up much of a fight on Serra’s behalf and so Serra had stayed in Malvern’s Ward and Eva had gone to Carpius. She had come back with stories of the grandeur of the capital city, the pleasant gardens and the wonderful people, the towering stone buildings and the delicious food.
Serra could not say that was her experience. They stayed in an inn on the outskirts of the city, one of the nicer ones that they could find, but still run down nonetheless. She would have liked to stay in one closer to the market district, but there was a fear that Rian would be recognized.
Serra had never seen so many people in one place. The noise alone was enough to drive her crazy, but the smell was worse. Rian assured her that the rain had washed away most of the stench, but during the summer months the lower city was nearly unbearable.
Vaughn was chief in keeping Rian from rushing through the streets of Carpius to the palace. He was anxious to see his father, to convince him of the hazardous choices he was making for the country. And to show him that the Dryads had not kidnapped him, but rather that he had left of his own accord and the Dryads had taken him in and cared for him. Having known the King and Rian for six years Vaughn was better able to judge the state of the King’s mind then the rest.
“Rian, you know how your father can be when he sets his mind to something. And no doubt Edwin is there egging him on, positive that they are doing the right thing. Even if you did go up there, the only thing it would accomplish is your father holding you against your will and keeping you from doing some actual good. You are the fifth son. In your father’s eyes, you can do very little to help, other than to be out of the way.”
To this the others added their own arguments and eventually Rian was persuaded to pass the night at the inn with the rest of them and to leave first t
hing in the morning.
Sylvan, Serra and Reks ventured into the city to stock up on food and other items they would need for travel through the mountains in harsh weather. As far as camping went they needed very little. Sylvan’s spells would keep them warm and dry for the night, but during the day they would be faced with cold winds, snow and sleet. They needed warmer clothes and sturdier boots.
Even Thistle received clothes that they purchased for her in a toy shop. The pixie, having lived in the wood her entire life, would be unused to such cold as they were sure to encounter in the mountains. The fabric made it difficult for Thistle to fly, but it would keep her warm, and after practice she was able to move with competence.
Although there were a few small towns between Carpius and the mountains there were no others once they entered the mountains until Hawksong Peak.
They would need enough food for themselves and their horses to last the weeklong trip through the mountains.
Reks suggested buying a pack mule to carry most of their food. And Serra and Sylvan agreed. They were on their way to a stable, when Serra noted that Sylvan had grown uncommonly quiet. She peered into the folds of her friends hood and was worried by what she saw. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead and it appeared that she was shaking.
“Reks, wait,” She called before making Sylvan stop. The Thief Lord returned to their side. “Are you okay, Sylvan?” She asked.
Sylvan shook her. “No. I think I’ve been in disguise too long. I feel... drained.”
Serra’s blue-green eyes met Reks' silver ones over the dryad’s bowed head.
“Take Sylvan back to the inn,” Reks said. “I’ll go and get the pack mule and meet you back there. You know the way?”
Serra nodded, and wrapped her arm around Sylvan’s shoulders to guide her back. “I won’t be long.” He called after them as they hurried away.
As they passed by, Serra caught sight of Vaughn and Rian at the bar in the tavern next to the inn. Rian seemed to be well into his cups, slouching over the bar. Vaughn sat next to him, back straight and hyper vigilant.
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