by A E M
“Yes, Maven.” She whispered.
He released her ear and watched her scurry out the door.
Vincent shut the door and locked it. If he was going to have to ride this rollercoaster, then he was at least going to control its direction. He sighed with relief and reached for his pack. He kept his jeans, but slipped on a white dress shirt that he kept unbuttoned at the top and a dark blue waistcoat. He rolled the bottom of his sleeves up so they ended where his gloves ended. Dress socks and shoes and a glance at his hair completed the ensemble. He laid his forehead against his door and took a deep breath.
He stilled his mind and found one of his favorite spots to relax: the tree house David built for him so he could have a place to run away to that would be safe. It had been years since he had last run away, but he would do it tonight if he could. The truth was that he was glad to know of the memory that had been taken from him. Now he knew why Charlotte had been so upset earlier now, but the truth was also that he would gladly let David take the memory back away. He could hardly look at her now, and the complications of training her were now greater on his side. He didn’t like the unbalance of weight between them. The bond was heavy. It pulled him down inside. There had to be something he could do other than what David suggested. David had encouraged him to let him wipe both of their memories of the event. But once he started down that path, wouldn’t it be easier to start erasing her memories every time something big came up between them? What David had done was wrong. It was illegal in the weaver community. He was stuck between David wanting him to break the rules one way, and Charlotte wanting to bend the rules another way. That family. He shook his head. His family. They were the only family he had, even though Charlotte didn’t completely trust him yet, and right now he was furious with David.
He opened the door and walked to Charlotte, offering the crook of his arm to her as he neared. She slipped her gloved hand in the offered spot, but kept her eyes forward. He patted her hand before leading them through the doors. He hoped his warning would carry through tonight and perhaps tomorrow. And hopefully longer than that, even. Why couldn’t he have landed an easy apprentice? David had told him a few weeks ago about several of his apprentices. It was then that he knew his time was coming close. He gathered from everything that David had said that it was a roll of the die each time. One apprentice, David had told him, had almost never needed to be disciplined. David had even joked that that apprentice had almost made up for the number of times he had to deal with Vincent. Almost, but not quite.
Charlotte was going to be a different matter completely. In fact, David had warned him that she might be his only apprentice. “You might not be able to adjust down to a child after so many years with an adult.” He had said. Vincent wasn’t sure yet, but he filed it away for later. David had confided to him that it was because Vincent was freshly ready for an apprentice that the Weaver Council had decided to set them up, so to speak. They wanted a weaver who wasn’t already used to a child in hopes that he would be able to quickly adjust to her needs. It was going to be awkward at best. A disaster at worst. He shook his head. No. It was going to be great. It might be an awkward disaster at first, but it would transform into something extraordinary as time went on. But the friendship part that she wanted? It wasn’t going to happen that way at first. Why couldn’t she understand that? Didn’t she see from him and David that it would turn to that eventually?
Music drifted through the staircases and hallways. Dwarves hurried through the hallways, laughing and talking and dancing.
“Wow, they let loose, don’t they?” Charlotte said. He turned to look at her, but her neck was angled away. Was she speaking to him or her self out loud? He gripped her arm a little more, but she didn’t respond. He turned his own face away. She was catching on to the bond. He wanted to go ahead and tell her and release it so they could start working freely, but he was supposed to wait. He shook his head. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should look at protocol and adjust it a little. But now was not the time. So she was right, but so was he. He could adjust things, but he would do it when he knew it was good for them instead of when she merely wanted it.
“They do when it’s time, yes.” He answered in case she had been talking to him. He stopped outside of the great hall. David stood nearby, his back to them. Vincent turned Charlotte’s face toward his and waited for her to stare back steadily. “I want you to pay attention to something tonight, Protégé.”
“Yes?”
“David and I are both hurting tonight. He did something that he thought was right in the moment, and now he has to face the consequences of that decision. I’m furious with him right now. But right now isn’t the time or the place. That’s why we took care of things upstairs and why we will talk again later when we have enough time to talk it all out and in a place where we won’t be acting as bad guests in case we need to get loud with each other. Do you understand?”
“I understand that that’s what’s expected of me. Of us.”
“Good. Now, all you have to do tonight is observe and enjoy yourself. Let me do the talking and I will guide you through everything.” He chuckled. “Just don’t distract me with fighting and you’ll be fine.”
David joined them. “You aren’t trying to pout and cry out of trouble, are you sister?”
Charlotte glared at both of them.
“David, how about we help our newbie get through a night without getting into trouble?”
He winked at her. “Well, I’d say she’s earned it, don’t you?”
Charlotte looked back and forth between them. She hoped they would help her. Today had been long enough. She dug her fingers into Vincent’s arm.
“We will get you through tonight.” Vincent said soothingly. “Now, shall the three of us go in together for our introduction?”
David smiled fondly. “No, this is your first official introduction as a Master Weaver. You go in with your apprentice. I’ll follow.”
“Are you ready to be announced?” An unfamiliar dwarf asked when they approached.
“Yes.” Vincent turned to face the room. Charlotte stepped behind his left shoulder.
“Presenting Master Weaver Vincent Montgomery and his Apprentice Weaver Charlotte Locklear.”
18
The Man-Boy and His World
“Are you sure?” Wynn asked her son. She clenched her husband’s hand under the table.
“Son, Charlotte would be welcomed among our people. You know this.”
Beau shook his head. “Her heart will wither under our society’s rules.”
He gripped the table. “The role is not for me.”
“Please tell me you’ve thought out the full consequences of this decision, son.” Wynn begged.
“Did you?” He asked them. “You made the same decision years ago.”
“But my brother is not your sister.” Wilder said slowly.
“She’s just young.” Beau shrugged. “She’s yet to get out from under your thumb. She’ll settle, you’ll see.”
The air was different here. It was thicker, more alive. A breeze, convinced that it had arms and fingers, reached across Beau’s back and ruffled his feathers. He shivered and adjusted his stance. The fingers of air apparently had not accosted his father, who was squatting next to him. Beau sighed inwardly and scanned the perimeter again. He listened to the roar of the water rushing over the rocks and watched the branches of the trees as they swayed to the beat of an invisible drum. The stars above blinked and shimmered and danced across the sky.
Beau shifted his weight slightly; his muscles were sore and stiff. Wilder placed his hand on Beau’s knee. They were spending a lot of time together lately, for both were aware that soon life would change. Wilder had finally given up trying to convince him to stay closer and maintain his responsibilities, for Bliss was already too far down the path for them to swap back roles. If Beau were to interfere at this point, she would likely kill or imprison him. Wilder and Wynn had progressed from their parental ro
les to their new roles as subjects.
Bliss was born for her role. Everyone saw it now. It was in the way she walked through the commons. It was in her eyes when she looked across the room. It was in her voice when she spoke. Beau was secretly thankful that he had chosen his new role. He would be living near his uncle on the south coast, and preparing to take over his work. His uncle was far past the age of retirement, but a replacement for his role was hard to find. Beau grimaced. It was a thankless, dangerous job, but at least his life would be preserved. He wasn’t so sure it would be if he stayed in the community near his sister full time.
And Charlotte had loved the beach. She would be close to her childhood home and he would build them a new home on his uncle’s land farther away and protected from his actual workplace. He sighed. The apprenticeship, while annoying, would be useful. It would keep her occupied for a few to several years while he learned the ropes of his new role and built her a secure home. He pushed away the guilt. There could be none of that. He would do the best he could with what he had. He thought instead of that day on the beach and the flight they had there and back. He couldn’t wait to fly again with her. He would give her some time to adjust and then push Vincent for weekends with her. And he would leave her with a ring to remind her on the days between his visits.
Beau gasped and coughed quietly. A putrid smell drifted through the air. He heard the slosh of a boat on the river. They watched the old, rowboat as it drifted slowly through the waters that slapped the sides higher and higher each time. Wilder’s feathers bristled and his muscles bulged. He laid two fingers on Beau’s shoulder. Stay put. Then the same two fingers on his wing. Leave if there is trouble. Then he did something he had never done on a mission. He reached over and ran his fingers down his upper back between his wings. I love you, son. Wilder stood. Beau tensed. He wanted to reach out, but Wilder had already stepped forward. He watched as his father cut a branch off of a tree with his sword and cautiously stepped closer to the creek. It was unwise to get too close to fairy water. The water, like the wind, sometimes had a mind of its own. Wilder pulled the boat to the shore with the branch and gasped, his hand rushed to his mouth and covered it as he shoved the boat back out to the middle of the river with the branch. Wilder turned and ran along the riverbank away from Beau. A cloud of dust rose out of the boat and followed him.
Beau pulled into a deeper crouch and then leapt up and released his wings, pumping them hard and fast. He flew up and out, away from the fairy border and his father. His stomach was in knots, and he struggled to empty his mind of emotions. He wanted to go back, but his father had led whatever it was away from him to allow the chance that one of them could make it back. They had received a message that they would be able to meet with Leander and Laila and hear word of Isaac and Audrey tonight. Had it been a trap? He flew higher and farther, forcing his mind quiet and still as he kept flying as fast as he could until he reached his homeland. He looked back over and over, hoping to see his father’s form, but it was too dark.
Once he was through the barrier, the lights on the tops of the spirals on the top towers of the palace blinked their locations first. Then came other lights, both on buildings and strategic places on the mountainside. Beau flew through it easily as he had done countless times before. He slowed his flight and dropped down to the massive steps outside the palace. The guards stepped back immediately to allow him room when he touched down.
“Find my sister and mother immediately.” He said to one of the guards, and then turned his face to the sky, searching for his father’s form. He shivered. He had been sweating as he flew, but he hadn’t realized how much or how cold it was tonight until he stopped and both hit him. He felt the soft, warm fabric of a blanket as one of the guards dropped it around his shoulders and adjusted it around his wings.
Finally he saw another figure fly through the barrier. He held his breath. Wilder landed with a thud and a roll. His legs were bloody and torn, and his feet had shifted back to talons. Many of their people wore glamours on their feet to look like human feet. It was a fashion trend for his people to wear them occasionally, but it was those who had frequent contact with the dane world who the glamours most often. Since his parents were ambassadors, they rarely shifted back to talons. Beau had lived most of his life with the glamour on his own feet, though his time as an apprentice was the exception. He had not been allowed to wear them without permission during those years.
“Father!” He rushed forward. “Get the medics, quickly!” He yelled, but the guards were already in motion. He put his arm under his father’s neck and lifted his head. Beau laid his hand on his heart. “Father, I—”
“I do, too, son.” Wilder grunted and sat up to rest in his son’s arms. His head slumped into Beau’s chest. His chest rose slowly.
“What did you see? What happened?” Beau pulled the blanket off his own shoulders and covered his father.
Wilder shuddered. “There were heads in the bottom of the boat. They are dead.”
“Leander and Laila?”
“And Isaac and Audrey.” Wilder said with a sob.
Beau gripped his father’s arms. Four medics hurried over with a stretcher and carefully lifted Wilder onto it.
“We should take him immediately, sir.” The tallest one said. “We will notify you immediately once he’s stable.”
“We might need blood.” Another added.
Beau nodded at the men. “Have somebody attend to me for that as soon as you are ready.”
The medics left with his father, and a cleaner stepped forward to wash the steps clean of Wilder’s blood. Like clockwork, this place was. Beau stood and scanned the sky. The stars were brighter this high. Beau wished that he had told Charlotte more about his homelands. He wished that he had brought her up here before. His father and her father had discussed it before, but Isaac had kept her away from magic more and more as she grew older. He had understood why then. If she had chosen to be a dane, then it might be best not to tempt her with too much of the magic world. But what purpose could Isaac have had when he knew very well that Charlotte did have magic? Beau frowned. Something didn’t add up. He would ask David what he thought as soon as he had some time to talk to him.
He looked back at the palace, pristine and shining. He would have to bring Charlotte here, at least once. But what would she say to him when she found out what he had given up? He expected a fight, but fighting alone didn’t frighten him. He had chosen to wait to tell her until after it was too late for her to try to convince him to change his mind. He hadn’t given her a choice, and right now she already angry because her choices were taken from her during the apprenticeship. He frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Cornered wild animals were unpredictable, and he did fear that.
A flame erupted from the mouth of a cat sized red dragon as it landed on the stairs. Beau reached over and scratched Ebby’s long throat. She curled around his legs and purred. He stroked her back and chuckled. Her purrs sounded like a wind chime on a breezy day. It was calming and a tiny bit unsettling all at once. Beau reached over to her front leg and unwrapped the leather string that held a small leather bag. A vial and a note lay inside. Lodestar had been sending them messages from time to time, and she knew they were to meet Leander and Laila tonight. Beau unwrapped the note.
Vial is for Wilder. Drink all. Stay away from borderlands. Next visit will bring death. Charlotte must not wear fairy clothes. Find Uniweaver named Kael with help of David. Destroy clothes with his aid. Price on Charlotte and Ebby’s heads. Attack will come at council meeting. Seek help from dwarves.
“Thanks, Ebby.” Beau stroked her tail. “Tell Lodestar thank you, as well.” Ebby purred louder and curled around his legs one more time before leaping back into the sky.
Wynn ran out on the steps in a many layered sheer nightgown with a robe made of lace flowers wrapped tight around her middle. “Son! Are you harmed? Where is Wilder?”
“Mother.” Beau kissed her cheeks. “I am well. F
ather is being cared for in the medical wing.”
Wynn paled. “What happened?”
Beau gently put his arm around his mother’s waist and filled her in on everything he knew as they walked into the palace. He handed her the vial once he was done.
“I’ll see that he drinks it immediately.” Wynn kissed his cheek. “I must be with him. Relate the news to your uncle and sister, and then hurry to Charlotte.”
Beau paused. “I left him mother. I’ve never had to leave him like that before.”
Wynn cupped his face in her hands. “You did what you were supposed to do. That is the way of our people. We do what we are asked to do.” Her lips straightened and her eyes bore through him. “Remember that, son. I’m afraid you may forget that once you leave us, and you know what happened to the others when they forgot.”
“How will I be able to forget when I will be surrounded by them in my new role?” He asked quietly and gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I will return as soon as I can.”
Wynn smiled. “Use the portals, son. Time is of the essence and you have already extended yourself this evening.”
He nodded and then headed in the opposite direction. The palace was quiet at this time of night, but not still. Cleaners scrubbed the floors and walls. He hurried past them. Raven had been one of the cleaners. He shook the memories away and stepped into the waiting room outside of his uncle’s office. It was a simple room. There was nothing to sit on or bide time with. It was merely a cold, calculating room to wait in.
Tonight the door was slightly open. An attender opened the door wider as Beau approached. “Your uncle is waiting for you, sir.”
Beau nodded at the man and stepped into the larger room. The room was crisp and sparse of furniture. The walls spiraled up until the ceiling met at a large stained glass window at the top. In the middle of the room Charles reclined on his lounge. Six attenders sat around him. Beau fell to one knee in front of his uncle and dipped his head down. Charles was a wiry, older man. His wings were yellowing; his eyes were soft with vision loss. He was dying. Charles nodded at him stiffly, still cross with him over his choice. A woman had never taken the throne before, but Charles’ hand was forced. He had never married, never had children. His head of dark hair was one of the few among their people. He had invested in both Beau and Bliss while they were growing up, but his first choice was for the male sibling to take the throne. Beau’s father should have taken the throne next, but he chose to remain an ambassador. Beau had chosen to take over his other uncle’s job as prison warden. He didn’t want the throne for the same reason his father didn’t want the throne, and as long as there was one family member to accept, he could bow out.