Highmage (Highmage's Plight Book 4)

by D. H. Aire

Clawd heard incredulous exclamations. "What's going on, Papa?" "He the thief?" "What happened to his clothes?" "Lucian must've magick them!" they all seemed to chorus.

  Geofrei groaned, "Shut up! Let the lady see to the boy and, no, the elf did not magick them away!"

  Blinking hard, Clawd wondered briefly what happened, then suddenly stiffened as he remembered. Demonlord's Stinking Breath!

  Irin glanced at her husband. At his insistent look, she softly asked, "Clawd, no one here means you any harm. Can you tell us what you're doing here?"

  He abruptly struggled to disentangle himself from the blanket, then pled, "You've just got to help them, Miss Irin!"

  "Them?"

  "Oh, Empress," Lucian mumbled, staring at Geofrei before both of them glanced at the cellar door, wondering just how much food had gone missing in the night, anyway?

  The assault was both physical and mental. Aaprin groaned as Gallen desperately concentrated. Her thoughts aimed at causing Aaprin to forget what she had failed to prevent him from seeing in her weakened condition and must have let slip.

  At the same time, she was shaking him, then dunking his head under the soapy water.

  All in all, Aaprin was reeling. FORGET, the mental impulse screamed as he struggled to break free.

  Desperately, Aaprin fought back. He raised his mental barriers as if they were the highest thickest walls ever built, then not knowing what else to do, pulled Gallen into a fierce hug, which only served to bring them both under the water. FORGET, she willed, now struggling in turn to break free of his grip.

  NO! He mentally wailed. KEEP THIS UP, GIRL, AND YOU WILL REGRET IT! TRUCE! LET'S TALK!

  Abruptly, he was not holding the girl, but a giant insect, staring at him hungrily.

  Through his battered senses he could see the girl behind the illusion. I'M AFRAID THAT WON'T WORK, he sent, then ignoring the hideous image of a ravenous maw moving toward him, he tightly shut his eyes, leaned close and kissed her.

  That stopped Gallen cold—and didn't do much for Aaprin's racing heart, either.

  Gallen found herself returning the kiss, momentarily forgetting her illusions were undone, her secret revealed. How had he done this? she wondered, pushing away from him, trembling in reaction to feelings she could barely name, weak and aghast.

  Swallowing, Aaprin stepped back, watching her leave the pool. He climbed out, wrapping a towel around himself. As Gallen stared, Aaprin threw her one, which she caught with an audible grunt. "I don't understand the pretense, Gallen. I was raised in the Seventh Tier – I do know what it can be like. This is none of my business, or anyone else's, unless you choose to tell them."

  Gallen swallowed hard and rose as Aaprin turned his face away. She wrapped the towel tightly around herself. "Where are those clothes you promised?" Gallen rasped exhaustedly, not knowing whether she could really trust him.

  With a sigh, he gestured outside, wondering how long the headache he now had was going to last. He had a nagging suspicion it might last a lifetime and shivered.

  “Uh, you'd best let me go down first," Irin hazarded. "Most of them know me."

  Lucian looked at her askance as Clawd called out down the stairs, "RATS IN THE HOLE! IT'S ALL RIGHT! MIZ IRIN AND HER HUSBAND, LUCIAN, LIVE HERE!"

  Geofrei shooed his children back as the four of them went down the steps led by Clawd, who left the blanket behind afraid that his fellows might be afraid of a trap.

  Luckily for him he had. Two of the less injured boys had gathered every weapon they had left between them and a few discarded items with potential. Clawd looked up, one boy was perched precariously to drop down on them, while the other rose up from one of the blanketed heaps feigning more serious injury. No matter that Clawd had called an "all's well." They trusted nothing, now.

  Irin ignored Clawd's hissed, "Down Rats!" which made the boy hesitate the slightest fraction.

  It was Irin who forestalled conflict, seeing past the clumped bundles of boys too injured to even try to escape at this point. "Ruke!" she hurried past Clawd and knelt by the older boy's side.

  His face fevered, he only vaguely noted the sound of her voice, "Irin? Hurt badly. Help us."

  The lad confronting Clawd dropped his weapons, his companion going lax, wan and exhausted, relieved that he could not have to put up a fight. Lucian, a terrible look of concern on his face, helped the boy down, then took a good long look at the wounded children.

  Geofrei noted the ashes. "They could have burned the whole house down around the lot of us!"

  Encouraging the boy to lie back down on his makeshift bedding, Lucian replied, "They did just right. No magery can trace them now.

  You're safe, child. All of you are safe!"

  Small faces peered at him in astonished relief at their unexpected good fortune. Irin told Clawd, "You've a lot of explaining to do, young man... But first, Geofrei, take the back way to the Dwarven Quarter. Bring a healer and I'll need some medicines to bring down Ruke's fever."

  The dwarf hurriedly nodded, "Yes, Lady," before scurrying back up the stairs, shooing his children out of the way before they could pester him with hundreds of questions he could not answer, while wondering if his business dealing with the Dwarf Friends was worth this.

  Lucian, on the other hand, looked at the trade goods Clawd had amassed in the night sprawling across the floor and shook his head in wonder. How would he account for all this in Se'and's ledger?

  The elfblooded mage Meltran's coach passed back into the city through the Northern most gate of the Seventh Tier.

  All their plans were in motion. Now he was officially returning from a visit outside of the Capitol after several days leave. Nothing could connect him to events over the past few days. He smiled grimly, knowing the Human and his allies had been dealt a serious blow to their information-gathering network, the most worrisome aspect of the man's burgeoning candidacy.

  The coach moved noisily through the too quiet streets. Imperial guardsmen were keeping a rather large presence in the Seventh, Meltron realized as he glanced out.

  Abruptly, someone he passed caught his gaze. For the briefest instant, he saw an old man leaning on his cane staring back at him. In that moment, the eyes flashed in barely concealed anger, seeming to look deep into his elvin soul.

  Hastily, Meltran leaned away from the window, and then shaking off the strange feeling abruptly looked back. But the old man was out of sight, left behind them. Just thinking about him, made the mage shiver for no discernible reason.

  Why suddenly did he feel such contempt for himself? Who cared about how a mere human looked at him, anyway?

  Chapter

  8

  "Balfour."

  The elfblood healer jerked awake with a start as a gentle hand dropped to his shoulder. "See how hard my nephew works, Carwina? He forgets his shift ended hours ago."

  Balfour turned his head in surprise and quickly rose as the Lady Carwina, daughter of the late Highmage Alrex, moved to turn away exasperatedly, "Master Ofran, I thought you wanted me to work here again, not to renew acquaintances."

  "Car," Balfour rasped as he straightened and hurriedly followed her into the ward.

  His uncle frowned, wishing now that Balfour might have been long gone. "Lad, heard you had some bad business last night."

  "Hmm, yes, Uncle," he practically stammered as Carwina walked down the ward and looked upon the urchin child.

  Juels watched her both warily and blearily, seated protectively beside the sleeping Andre, whose wound Balfour had healed immediately. The other children had been conscious and fearful. Tending them had taken hours; although, without the little girl's help Balfour was certain it would have taken much longer.

  Juels rose as Balfour and Ofran approached. "Andre will be all right, won't he?"

  Balfour hesitated a moment at the "he" the girl always used to refer to both herself and Gallen’s lieutenant. Kneeling, he responded, "She just needs rest." Reassured, the little girl tiredly nodded. "You, on the other hand, need to
get some sleep… or I'll soon be treating you!"

  "I'm fine. I just want to stay right here." She planted herself firmly in her chair.

  "I can have a cot brought over,” Balfour offered. “Placed right at the foot of Andre's bed, if you'd like."

  Juels shook her head, adamant. "Staying right here. My duty, Milord."

  Carwina watched the display with an uncertain frown, wondering why Balfour just didn't put the poor child to sleep with a spell. He obviously had skill enough. "I'll have food brought… which I expect you to eat, at the very least."

  With a sigh, Juels answered, "Yes, Milord."

  Balfour rose. Carwina heard Ofran whisper, "Do you think that best? The child is clearly in distress."

  "I learned a while ago never to questions someone else's feelings of loyalty when they say they've a duty involved... It's makes things a tad less frustrating for all parties concerned. There's also a matter of trust. The child has to believe in someone's word or never heal emotionally—and emotional distress is what Juels suffers the most from at the moment."

  Ofran nodded, noting Carwina again moving down the ward as they began discussing individual cases. Carefully they avoided discussing what had brought the urchins here in the first place. The Healers Hall had enough gossip brandied about as it was.

  There was abruptly a disturbance at the entry. The Warders shouted for medics. Balfour halted, gaping as the Elflord, Sianhiel, strode forth carrying an unconscious urchin in his arms. "Demon's Blood! Get out of my way! Ofran! I've three lads in need of immediate attention!"

  Carwina gaped as the elflord settled his charge on the nearest available pallet, while two of his elvin companions hastened to bar their charging into the ward.

  Ofran and Balfour nudged Sianhiel aside. "He's the worst of the lot. None are even Gallen's from what we could gather."

  Balfour closed his eyes, concentrated and mentally felt the lad. ‘Scanned,’ as Staff put it, the broken bones, a knife wound in the shoulder. He concentrated, willing the torn muscle to knit the flesh to close. That accomplished, he willed the bones back to their proper places, then to fuse.

  When he opened his eyes, he found a small hand lying upon his arm. Juels chuckled, "Crisp is a pretty good liar."

  Carwina hardly heard the child's comment as she sang the healing of the second child. Bruises faded. The broken leg straightened. There was a soft cry of relief as the pain dulled.

  The third lad coughed and muttered insistently, "Not Gallen's."

  "You're safe, lad," Master Ofran assured, between verses of his healing spell.

  Sianhiel looked at Juels ruefully, "All three, Gallen's?"

  Juels nodded, "Where did you find them?"

  "An abandoned house in the Seventh— couldn't tell you exactly where. We've checked so many."

  The little girl smiled, then yawned, "Thank you, Sir Elf... Master Balfour, I think I'd like that cot now."

  Smugly, Balfour called his medics to set out the cot by Andre's bed. He squeezed Juels’ hand as she walked away.

  Sianhiel frowned at Balfour, "I believe the two of us may have something to discuss."

  Seated in the Lady Karolynia's parlor, or glade as it appeared, George commented, "No one mentioned to me that the Houses had voting rights in the Conclave."

  “Imagine that…”

  Chapter

  9

  "Gallen." George muttered looking at his newest household acquisition.

  The urchin swallowed. Dressed in Aaprin's finest clothes, the lad looked presentable enough. The looks the members of his Cathartan clan were giving him made him wonder.

  "Now, just what are we going to do with you?" he asked.

  Se'and cleared her throat. "Cle'or has seen to his training. But I am hesitant to add him to our guard contingent until we are certain the other matter is resolved.”

  "Do you want to be a guard, Gallen?" George asked leaning forward. Staff held enrapport ever so lightly in his hand.

  Gallen replied. "I want only to see that my friends are safe. Once that's done, I will do whatever you need of me.”

  :Not quite an answer to your question, George,: Staff said as George frowned, glancing toward the stairs. Aaprin, Revit and Terus watched from the banister. Raven watched him from the foot of the stairs and a most curious look from the beast it was. Her eyes conveyed a most hooded meaning.

  "Come with me, Gallen," he announced rising. The urchin followed him to the area he had come to consider the workroom. He shut the door firmly behind Gallen, blocking Cle'or and Se'and before either one could consider interfering. Gallen warily watched him as a voice spoke in her head. 'You can hear me, can't you?'

  Fearfully, Gallen carefully schooled her expression and reacted not at all. If she couldn't fool Aaprin, who was only an apprentice, what would the human mage be like? That worry nagged at her.

  For the first time, George actually smiled, the staff in his hand beginning to glow. :He's is nicely shielded. Scanning Elvin bloodlines mixed with human. Both prevalent, no sign of elvin ability, however… reviewing incidents of previous contact. No elvin qualities manifested; however, am concerned that the elvin blood heritage was not previously suspected. It should be more clear, even now, but without this superficial scan it would not be evidenced.:

  George sat down. "Gallen. You have elvin blood, though, you do not look it. So, my question is just how many years have you run your Pack of rchins?"

  Considering a lie, Gallen stated instead, "Fourteen years."

  "You sure don't look it."

  "Elvin children age at a slower pace than their human counterparts, or so I've heard," Gallen replied.

  "With elfblooded children usually markedly less so, Gallen. Apparently, you can expect a very long life span... The fact you have that gift and used it to help those street waifs makes you a remarkable person, in my view.”

  "Um, is that a compliment? Those kids don't seem to have done so well by my leadership lately,” Gallen replied.

  "You take your responsibility for them very seriously, don't you?"

  "I'm the closest thing to a father or mother they've got... We don't really need to chat like this. I've already told you that I'll deal. I just want to know if the kids are alright. Once satisfied, I'll do whatever you'd like. Serve as a guard... Whatever.”

  George shook his head. "No deal. It's too dangerous for you to go hunting answers. Cle'or can report to you their status. I'll not risk you. Human mages are in too short a supply. Though, at this rate we should be able to open our own Academy soon."

  "Excuse me. What are you talking about?"

  "Human mage apprenticeships seem to be rare – apparently. I'm the only human mage on the whole planet."

  "Apprentice? But I don't do magic.”

  "Perfect. Neither do I. Staff, nix the simulation field."

  The staff’s light faded.

  Gallen had never left the main room.

  Cle'or frowned. Aaprin at the stairs was covering his face with his hands. Revit and Terus were groaning, "Sharing a room with Aaprin's been bad enough!"

  Staff’s glow winked as it stated, :You are tightly shielded, yet surface thoughts can still be manipulated. Forgive us for the illusion, but it was necessary to test your potentials... and you tested very high.:

  "An illusion?" Gallen muttered. She felt very small. What was her skill to that? Then the Cathartans were hugging her and congratulated him on becoming an apprentice. Apprentice am I? she thought, glaring at Aaprin, who looked chagrined.

  There seemed to be dwarves all over the Seventh Tier. If mage Meltron, or one of his cohorts, had been scrying they might have noticed that the human mage's spy network was back in business.

  The representatives from the Northern Border had serendipitously arrived and were apprising themselves as to the latest circumstances. Then again, the Provincial Elflords were arriving as well.

  The provincial lords, Hayden of Hayden, and Tane of Tane eyed each other’s procession through the concours
e barely civilly, having raced with their escort toward the Southern Gates. Neither wishes to arrive second to the other this day. The Llewlyn arrived at the riverfront. Each group headed toward the first Tier, to pay their respects upon the Empress.

  If any of the guests to the city noticed the sudden lack of common street urchins, none so remarked to their Empress, who was less than delighted by the mayhem of the previous day. The Imperial Guard sought to keep matters that way.

  Se'and left George in a training session with his apprentices. Word had come from the Guild that the Conclave would begin in two days. Se'and now had things to oversee as Cle'or double-checked every aspect of their House's security.

  Lucian saw the cloaked woman enter the shop and smiled. There were three elfbloods looking at the dwarf-made wares, the youngest laughed seeing her. Lucian's crooked hand spasmed, suddenly alert for trouble.

  "Lady," Lucian began.

  Se'and threw back her cowl and grinned. "Don't be concerned. This is a friend.”

  A few minutes passed as her guests browsed. Lucian’s eyes widened as he realized that the youth was an elflord. "I must admit surprise seeing the quality of your merchandise. I don't suppose you would care to arrange an exclusive within my Province.”

  "For the right price, Lord Lyai, a good business woman might consider it. After all, our last visit was quite, uh, profitable," she replied.

  The Lyai of Lyai, or simply Lee to his friends, nodded, "The right price we shall discuss after we discuss this most amazing coincidence."

  "Coincidence?"

  "I was absolutely delighted to learn of Je'orj's candidacy for Highmage. That is one position that should keep him here.”

  Se'and hesitated. "I hope so, Milord. We have much to discuss. Lucian, we shall be using the back room."

  "Of course… my lords and lady. Right this way.”

  Fri'il watched the training session from the doorway. The children, even Raven, seemed motionless as Staff glowed in a soft welcoming light, which seemed to embrace them all.