by D. H. Aire
Juels nodded to herself as the word “consort” echoed through the house. Cle’or asked, “Balfour, what’s going on?”
The healer groaned. “I hadn’t thought about that part.”
Me’oh, her daughter cradled close, said, “Bal…”
“Uh, hmm, how did I forget about that part? The Highmage, well, serves as the Empress’s consort.”
“Bloody interfering Alrex,” Cle’or muttered.
“Meaning what?” Me’oh demanded as everyone else in the room grew remarkably quiet.
“Meaning, he, uh, sires her heirs.”
Juels looked deep into Ri’ori’s face as the babe sensed the tension and opened her mouth to cry at the intruding sounds which now was waking the older infant Rachiel. “Shh, Ri’ori, it’ll be all right.”
Ri’ori abruptly settled back down as Cle’or said, “What?!”
“Je’orj!” Fri’il and Se’and chorused.
“Hey, don’t blame this one on me!” he shouted back.
“Consort?” Se’and exclaimed. “She’s not Cathartan! She may be Empress, but I’m not calling her Sister or… or sharing you outside the House!”
Fri’il was propped up in bed, clearly exhausted, “Je’orj, you will simply tell her no thank you.”
:And that worked so well last time,: Staff offered as George blinked, careful not to echo that sentiment.
“Apparently, uh, fulfilling the role of consort will, uh, allow me to access the Gate.”
Se’and glanced at Fri’il, who looked at her askance. Neither could retort that Je’orj not being able to return to his world was just fine with them.
“Perhaps, someone else can become Highmage then,” Se’and offered.
“I’m sure Grendel would be thrilled… and all sorts of unpleasantness would befall everyone. And, somehow I doubt he’s open the Gate for me to just go on my merry way, either.”
“Bloody interfering Alrex,” Se’and muttered.
“You’re not leaving us!” Fri’il cried. “Ri’ori needs her father! And, we…” Se’and nodded, “need our husband.”
George sighed and edged closer to her bedside, taking her hands in his. “Not anytime soon, my dear.”
For some reason that answer didn’t satisfy either woman, but George understood that. It was the only thing he had to offer.
Raven went out the back door and walked the grounds. Dwarves were arguing about the best way to extricate the coach imbedded in the path. Tett yelled back, “Don’t look at me, I left Tane never to have to swing a pickaxe again.”
Spiro glared at him as Raven paused to watch another group of dwarves rope the remnants of the gate back into place. She shook her head, knowing it was going to take a lot more than that to repair the damage.
She bounded over to the barn, hearing Verny mutter, “Oh, my aching back… You just had to…” He saw Raven and smiled uncertainly.
Raven looked at her foster-father’s mare. ‘Thank you.’
The mare whinnied in reply, nodding.
Verny looked from one to the other.
The priest said, “Lady Carwina, thank you for having come.”
“I’m a healer… and, I’m not exactly busy these days.”
“Lady, this temple is always open to you.”
She nodded, “It was good to… work again. Ofran’s been asking me to return to the Hall, but that… poses challenges that I’d rather not deal with right now.”
Frowning, the old priest climbed the stairs with her. “Is there any other treatment the child requires?”
“I healed the break. It will feel sprained for the next day or so. If it continues to hurt after that, send for me again… As to the others, they can’t remain as they are forever.”
“What solace, what sanctuary, the temple can offer… shall always be given to those who seek it.”
Carwina nodded and left the temple. She paused on the street, breathed in the air, felt the breeze and thought of those who were hidden by the once populous temple and its fallen priesthood. Unity wasn’t very popular this last thousand years or so… But she had a feeling either that was about to change or… the Empire was on the brink of civil war. She shook her head, tears welling, hoping her father had not killed them all.
Rolf frowned. The taproom was never busy this time of day and here he was serving two dark robed figures, who couldn’t quite hide the bounty of daggers they wore. When Gabriol entered his establishment, his heart skipped a beat. The last thing he wanted was the Prince of Thieves in the Seventh Tier to ever “darken his door.” That he sat across from the pair, made Rolf consider closing up shop.
Gabriol turned, “Rolf, I’ll have a pint of the real stuff – not the usual watered down swill you serve.”
He didn’t even argue, glad to momentarily get out of the room and find a new unadulterated cask.
Gabriol chuckled, “That will likely take him a while.”
“This is an odd choice of meeting place,” one of them said.
“Believe it or not, I trust Rolf… He’s not going to mention my coming here and meeting you here.”
“You came alone, as we asked.”
“I’m never alone… and no one else will be coming here until after we’ve gone our separate ways.”
The pair nodded. “Have you found what we seek?”
“It’s an odd request… But the place you seek is the Temple of Unity in this very Tier.”
“A temple…” one muttered, surprised.
“It offers everything you’re seeking, and the priest has been known to help those in need.”
“If you betray us…”
Gabriol shook his head, “You needn’t worry. My word is my bond… I’ve a feeling that those who cross you will find themselves in worse trouble than anything you might unleash.”
That night, George slept fitfully. When Ri’ori woke crying he told Fri’il to stay in bed. Se’and stirred, then turned back over beside Fri’il. Staff glowed softly free standing in the center of the room as George reached out enrapport and got a sense of his daughter’s discomfort. She needed changing. He took one of the small cloth diapers they now kept readily on hand, picked up the baby and brought her over to the desk, which had been converted into a changing table.
“It’s all right, little one, Daddy’s got you.”
Se’and opened her eyes slightly, watching them together. Fri’il lay facing her, feigning sleep as well. At Se’and’s satisfied smile, she went back to sleep. Whatever Alrex’s plans, Je’orj was firmly theirs. Even an Empress would be no challenge to what their House offered the maddening man in their lives.
Yet, for all Fri’il’s faith, Se’and was still not certain. Consort to the Empress boded ill.
Aaprin didn’t sleep well. Gallen was in the next pallet. I really should tell Lord Je’orj… Highmage Je’orj, he reminded himself. I should tell him that Gallen’s power of illusion is rather, hmm, extensive. He’d just tell him that Gallen was a girl… a girl with rather lovely eyes. He rolled over. He didn’t need to ask her why she wielded illusion to disguise herself, he understood. Life on the streets was tough.
Good thing I’ve learned how to barrier my thoughts.
:Yeah, so why are you in my dreams?:
He sat bolt upright.
Gallen was sitting up, looking at him.
Revit stirred. Blearily, he saw everyone was asleep, nothing happening, so rolled over and soon dreamed undisturbed.
Aaprin turned to stare. “Gallen?”
She sighed. “Aaprin, can’t you leave it be?”
“Gallen… would it be so wrong for you to just leave the disguise behind.”
“Aaprin, believe me. It’s much safer this way.”
“Gallen, keep the disguise, but tell Je’orj the truth… because,” he said looking her deep in the eyes, “I think we need to deal with the fact I can see through your illusion and… you can hear me mentally, barriered or not.”
She suddenly crossed her arms, “You’re still s
eeing me?”
“Uh, yeah… didn’t I mention that?”
“No, you did not.”
Even in the dark she could see his face go flush as he hesitated before saying, “Uh, fancy that.”
“You’ve barriers good enough for that?”
“Apparently, mine are better than yours.”
“Then stop thinking about me and let me get some sleep!” she said.
“You’ll tell the Highmage then?”
“Yes, but no one else… understood?”
He nodded and laid back down. She really does have the most lovely eyes.
‘Stop that!’
Aaprin groaned.
Chapter
20
Abernathy, the archmage of the Faeryn mages, sat behind his desk in the Hall’s study and shook his head. “Are you sure?”
“The Academy has gone dark,” the younger Faeryn mage explained. “They’ve definitely retreated Underhill. Half their students left… and it’s not just those associated with even cadet branches of the Forty Families.”
The old mage leaned back in his chair. “I know the School Mistress has detested the fact that she’s had to accept so many elfblooded students of dubious lineage over the years, but to cast them out?”
“Ahem, I don’t think that’s what she’s done…” the other Faeryn mage replied.
“What then?”
“My young cousins have left the Mage Academy at the behest of their parents and their master has left as well.”
“I’ve heard the rumors. The Mage Academy is almost as popular as we are now.”
“The Academy is losing a great deal of prestige. With the loss of so many students and masters, how can they continue?”
“So you think the Mistress is breaking tradition and sent scores of the students she had longed to get rid of to a school for elvin and elfblooded boys?” Abernathy replied with a wry laugh.
“He’ll need faculty.”
“You think he’d shatter tradition and call upon even a single Faeryn mage? That would end their reputation for good.”
The younger mage nodded, “He clearly can’t ask us for help.”
“I suppose Stenh will have no choice then… He’ll seek the aid of the Highmage.”
“What help can he be? He’s not going to be able to teach.”
“How much do you know about the Academy?”
“What anyone does, Master.”
Abernathy shook his head, “My father wasn’t always a Faeryn mage… In his youth he trained at the Academy and served as a Master. He was part of the Inner Circle. It was only when he… began to, let us say, question tradition that he turned Faeryn. He told me a great deal about the Academy that wasn’t covered by his Oath. There are aspects of the Academy, what you were called the Old Hall, where if Stenh dared move the students to, time is said to run in on itself. The Old Hall was apparently where warder mages were trained, but something went wrong and… well, no one attains that rank anymore. So, if Stenh can gain access to the Old Hall having lots of masters to train his new students may not matter. From the students perspective those masters were likely there from the moment they arrived.”
“You can’t mean…”
“When Je’orj feels he’s journeymen mages, Stenh will have some fascinating new masters to challenge his students in ways that have nothing to do with what anyone might consider the ‘Faeryn Heresy.’’’
“But his apprentices won’t be that skilled for years.”
“Perhaps… perhaps, but who knows with human magery? Or do you credit the new Highmage’s skills took decades to learn?”
“I don’t know. But that’s really not what worries me. The Old Hall was where warder mages were trained. It was said, people could go into the Old Hall, but, well, getting out without warder mages was another thing entirely. My worry is whether the current Inner City even knows that about the Old Hall.”
“And there haven’t been warder mages for, what, a thousand years?”
“I believe longer than that. But I also believe Alrex had a plan that was more than just making a human guardian of the Gate.”
“A plan that included warder mages?”
“Let’s hope so because otherwise, if Stenh doesn’t know what my father told me was a legend about the Old Hall, then he and those masters and students with him could be trapped forever.”
George thought it odd to be sitting at the kitchen table. Rachiel was fussing in her father’s arms. Tett was making stacks of pancakes. The ones George had been served when he came down, tasted wonderful smothered with this world’s equivalent of golden maple syrup. He paused to cut up Fri’il’s as she cradled their, once more, sleeping daughter as Se’and sat discussing with Cle’or security concerns.
Raven was curled up at his feet as Me’oh came down the stairs ahead of the bustling noise of the kids being woken for the morning. “So, Milord, what exactly do you intend for the children’s schedule today?”
“The children’s schedule? You mean my apprentices?”
:George, this doesn’t sound good,: Staff said as Raven glanced up.
“We’ve more children here than your apprentices.”
Cle’or turned and said, “My foster-daughter could certainly use some education.”
“I’m not a school.”
:Really? Don’t you mean I’m not a school…:
Clearing his throat, George said, “I thought Gallen made sure the urchins knew how to read and write.”
“There must be more you and Staff can teach them,” Cle’or said as Se’and sat back, which made George rather suspicious.
“Archaeology 101?”
“You taught Balfour healing.”
“He had the gift,” George answered.
“How do you know Andre and Juels don’t?”
:Now we’re supposed to test the children for their potential?: Staff said.
Se’and coughed catching that remark, “Do you have anything better to do this morning?”
George blinked. “Perhaps, I should be testing you.”
Fri’il chuckled, gesturing, “Oh, I’m hearing Staff, too.”
Balfour and George both stared at her.
“Ahem,” Cle’or said, “me, too.”
:George, it’s catching…:
“This is crazy. You shouldn’t be able to hear him.”
“Perhaps you need to test us,” Se’and said.
Tett swallowed hard as the silence lengthened as the sound of running feet grew loud as the apprentices and fosterlings came down the stairs. “Uh, pancakes, anyone?”
“School?” Andre said as they stood in the study. All the furniture had been removed, the glowing staff was planted in the center of the room and cast a privacy shield of orange light all around them.
Juels frowned. “Test us?”
Aaprin muttered, “Uh, Master, them?”
Glancing at Se’and and Cle’or, “Yes, we’re all going to school today, save Fri’il who we can test at another time… all at different levels. And don’t worry about Fri’il, Raven’s staying by her and the baby’s side. Aaprin, you’ll help me with the testing, while, Revit and Terus, you’ll monitor.”
Balfour added, “I’m glad you don’t seem to be including Me’oh or me, either.”
“You, my friend, don’t need the education we’ll be providing and unless I miss my guess, Me’oh still isn’t overhearing Staff.”
“I’m not,” she replied. “And quite happy not to.”
George nodded.
:We will also take the opportunity to test the extent of Gallen’s abilities,: Staff stated.
Eyes going wide, Gallen glanced at Aaprin, who stiffened. “You needn’t.”
George frowned, “It won’t harm you. It’s just a test of your potential.”
Swallowing hard, Gallen replied, gesturing, “See, I know the limits of my abilities.” Where the urchin boy stood, now stood a blonde haired girl with elvin ears who looked a little older than Aaprin. “I can ma
intain the illusion even in my sleep.”
Andre muttered, “Gallen generally slept with the Pack Rats. She sometimes sort of fluttered, when she was most exhausted.”
“I’ve limits… I made sure to sleep near Andre and the seniors in the Pack Rats, when I knew I couldn’t maintain it then.”
George nodded, “We wondered when you would feel comfortable enough to tell us.”
“What?!” she rasped.
:We sensed it, Gallen,: Staff replied.
“You’ve nothing to fear with us, young lady,” Se’and added.
“But you’ve allowed me to sleep in the same room with Aaprin and the boys.”
Cle’or chuckled. “Where we come from sisters often do… but we’ll move you if you aren’t comfortable.”
Juels chuckled, “Comfortable… Gallen’s been taking care of the boys in the pack.”
George nodded, “I’ve a suspicion that you’ve been disguising yourself for a reason… for a while.”
“I’ve sworn to obey you, student to master, Milord,” Gallen said. “But please do not ask that.”
Looking to the Cathartans, George nodded, “We’re all allowed our privacy, Gallen. But if it becomes an issue, please let me know, at least.”
The former urchin replied, “I promise.”
“Good, now with that out of the way,” George said, “Welcome to the… uh, Terran University Annex.”
Each stiffened as they found themselves standing in a field under a sun that was not their own. The sky was tinged blue and the clouds were frozen above them.
“Aaprin.”
“Milord?” he replied.
“Time to learn how to test for telepathic ability and other human psionic gifts,” George said, gesturing as Revit and Terus appeared beside them. “You two will monitor as you’ve been taught. Nothing more, understood?”
They nodded.
:Extending rapport,: Staff announced as the boys held hands and suddenly looked frozen.
Aaprin blinked, “That looks weird.”
“Weirder than what you saw at the Mage Academy?” George asked.
“That was magery. It made sense… this?”