by M. Gregg Roe
After placing the jar on the preparation table, she looked over at him. “Have you eaten lunch, Saxloc?”
“I ate with Grandfather.”
Almera pulled over a stool and sat down with a sigh of relief. “Cinda came over for lunch. They really did have an orgy at Desires at the end of last month. It sounded exhausting.”
Saxloc hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he first heard the rumor. He still fantasized about Lilina sometimes, and she had to have been part of it. “I hope you didn’t discuss that in front of Romee.”
“Of course not. We waited until she headed outside after eating. Has Tabitha spoken to you about Romee’s learning issues?”
“Yes, she has.” Even though she was older, Romee was well behind the twins as far as her education.
“It’s frustrating for all of us. I only have to tell her the name of a plant once, but she can still barely read.”
After finishing his apple juice, he said, “Tabitha says that she’s good at arithmetic.”
“Which makes no sense to me.” She waved at the jar. “Dinner will be a selection of cold foods. It is simply too hot to cook.”
“That’s fine with me.”
She glanced out the nearest window. “It’s nearly time to go pick up the twins. Can you do it, Saxloc? I need to rest for a while.”
She really did look tired. “I’ll take care of it.”
Mercifully, a cloud covered the sun during most of his walk to Tabitha’s house. Against all expectations, she was taking care of the house herself, only hiring someone for things she wasn’t physically capable of, such as removing a large bush. She cooked her own meals, did her own laundry, cleaned inside and out.
The door was answered not by Tabitha, but by a smiling Ilona. “Hi, Saxloc. Tabitha’s still working with Iris, but they should be done soon. Come on in.”
Saxloc seated himself on the small sofa as Ilona perched on the chair to his right. “What are you two studying at the moment?” he asked.
“Andoran. He lived a really long time.”
Her use of the past tense implied that Tabitha had told them that Andoran was dead, which he wasn’t sure was a good idea. “What part of his history are you studying?”
“The early part. He did a lot of good things, but I know he did bad stuff later.”
That was an understatement. He heard a door open, and Tabitha soon walked in with Iris close behind. “They are all done for the day,” she announced. When teaching, she always wore a nice dress, and he gazed at her appreciatively.
After Iris walked over to join her sister, Tabitha addressed him. “Could you come back over this evening, Saxloc? I need help with something.” Then she made a face at the two girls, who were now smiling mischievously at them. “It’s helping me to move some furniture, and it’s cooler in the evening,” she declared.
He thought about Tabitha as he walked the girls back, one to either side as always. She kept hinting that he was welcome to move in with her. That might happen eventually, but for now his parents really needed his help to manage the three girls.
Jessia adored the tablecloth he had brought back for her. It was unbleached linen, but embroidered with a variety of colorful flowers. He had bought it from an old woman in Hamsa, not even trying to haggle because the price was so reasonable.
Their relationship had smoothed out markedly. Finally realizing that it bothered him, she now made a real effort to clean up after herself. Even her small bedroom, which had always been dusty and strewn with dirty clothes, was now neat and clean.
Against all expectation he was developing an interest in plants and landscaping. He had always prided himself on his observational talents, and now he could readily identify different types of flowers, bushes, and trees. During a recent walk he had even advised an older man about how to deal with an aphid infestation, making use of something that Jessia had recently mentioned.
“I really want my own garden,” she said, while they gathered up the dirty dishes after finishing their dinner. “And not just for flowers. I want to grow vegetables. It’ll save us money.”
It was beginning to feel like they were married. “You want to look for a house?” he asked. Then he noticed her expression. “You’ve already found a house.”
She put the dishes she was holding in the washbasin, and he did the same. After pouring water over them from a pitcher, she turned to face him. “It’s near one of the places I’ve been working,” she explained. “It’s old, and kind of small, but it’s in good condition. There are two small bedrooms, which is all we need. The—”
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll take a look at it.”
“When?”
“Let’s walk over there after we’ve cleaned up.” That would keep her happy and get him some exercise.
From a distance it looked appealing, but up close was another story. There were cracks in the foundation, no glass windows, and the roof was clearly in need of repair. And it had an outhouse. That was intolerable.
“It has some minor issues,” he said diplomatically. “I think we should look at other houses to see what’s available.”
“Okay.” Jessia took his left arm and pressed against him. “As long as it has room for a big garden, I’m happy.”
It took nine days to find something that satisfied both of them. And they wouldn’t be able to move in until the current residents moved out at the end of the month. But it was new and modern, complete with running water and a flush toilet fed by collected rainwater. It was also expensive, but it wasn’t like he was poor. And it turned out that he already knew one of their soon-to-be neighbors. Once the deal was struck, he stopped by to tell her.
“You and Jessia are going to be moving in next door?” said Kora, managing to sound excited and yet somehow still look shy. “Does she know how to play Sparrow?”
He had known that question was coming. “I barely know how to play, but Jessia is crazy about flowers.” That was what was depicted on most of the tiles. “I’ll buy a Sparrow set and start teaching her.”
The woman looked like she might explode from sheer joy. “This is perfect. I don’t know anyone nearby who plays, but now they’ll be four of us right together. We can play all the time.”
“We do all have jobs,” he reminded her. “And Gabriel doesn’t actually live here.”
The change was startling. Suddenly Kora was poised and radiating confidence. She even seemed taller to him.
“For now,” she said, sounding completely different as she made an elegant gesture of dismissal. “But he will by the end of the year.”
Hankin didn’t doubt it. Kora was a vixen in disguise. Gabriel had no chance whatsoever.
He and Jessia went to dinner at Lucien’s that evening to celebrate. But instead of having sex afterward, they stayed up late discussing their landscaping plans.
Siljan yawned as she waited for the workers to finish pulling the wagon onto the ferry. It was both early and depressingly gloomy. And then there was the fact that Barton wasn’t one of the four caravan guards. While she had been gone, he had requested and received reassignment to the Novox office in Zardis. That was where he was from, so maybe it was some kind of family issue. But she was miffed that he hadn’t at least left her a note.
As Albert had requested, she had made an effort to find about the succubus that had been in the Witch’s City last year. From Hankin, she knew that the demon had been destroyed rather than being banished, but that Mardan denied responsibility. When Siljan finally tracked her down, Aliva refused to say anything. But she had promised to speak to her father about it. That should resolve the issue.
“Good morning, Siljan.” It was Grasapa, and she had a large canvas bag slung over her shoulder as well as carrying her quarterstaff.
Siljan smiled. “I don’t have to ask why you’re here.” Ariel’s baby was due in less than a month.
“I understand that you will be performing the delivery,” said Grasapa in a calm voice.
; “Yes, I will.” She dreaded it, but it was part of her training. Some things you just couldn’t teach. “If you’re worried, we’ve now got an experienced midwife working at the winery. She’ll be there too.” And probably either Alessandra or Isadora. But she was still nervous about it.
Grasapa nodded ever-so-slightly. “I am certain that you will do fine.”
They rode over along with the wagon. (The giant lizard had already been ferried over earlier.) By the time they climbed into the enclosed area at the back, it had begun to drizzle. They passed the time by talking about Lancia, both as it was now and how it had been in the days when Grasapa lived there. Siljan had known the woman all of her life, and regarded her almost like an aunt, albeit one with rather hellacious unarmed combat skills.
It was raining even harder when they arrived at Merryton in the early evening. They two of them made their way to the meeting hall, which is where they would be staying. After eating the food the villagers brought for them, Siljan spent nearly an hour healing an assortment of injuries and minor illnesses. It was both her duty and something that she had come to enjoy.
“Is this typical?” asked Grasapa, gesturing at where several items sat on a nearby table.
Siljan shrugged. “In this area, it really is. Most people think they should offer something in exchange, and it’s usually some type of food.” Her haul included two ceramic crocks of fruit preserves and a package full of beef jerky that smelled wonderful.
Grasapa picked up one item and fingered the fabric. It was a small wool blanket that had been dyed a pale blue. “This is lovely.”
“Why don’t you give it to Ariel for the baby?” suggested Siljan. “You can donate to the temple if it makes you feel guilty.”
“Then that is what I will do.” She folded the blanket neatly and placed it back on the table.
The weather was much better the next day, so the two of them walked along with the caravan part of the way. Siljan felt a pang as they passed by where Farmerton had been. Even now, she still had the occasional bad dream about what had befallen that village.
When the rapidly growing temple complex finally came into view that evening, Siljan couldn’t suppress her happy smile. She was home.
31
‡ Spirits ‡
Those who lacked the talent often asked those who possessed it what it was like to be able to sense magic. The answer most often given was that it was like a glow they could see, but not with their eyes. Questioned further, they might explain that the intensity of the glow correlated with the strength of the magic. That was generally enough to satisfy most people. Only spell-casters knew just how woefully inaccurate and incomplete an explanation that was. Words were simply inadequate.
The ability generally manifested between the ages of eight and eleven. A child might suddenly notice that certain objects or people seemed different somehow. Lacking the words to describe this new sensation, they might well describe it as a glow. But that was just the beginning of their journey. With experience and training, they could learn to detect even slight traces of magic, and the distance from which magic could be detected would steadily increase. As their skill grew, not just the strength but the type of magic and even specific spells could be discerned.
Sometimes the ability was wasted. A talented child raised by untalented parents might have no understanding of what they were sensing and refrain from mentioning it for fear of appearing different. They could go their entire life without ever achieving their true potential. It was sad, but that kind of thing happened all too often in small villages where magic was completely unknown.
Other children were fortunate. One of their parents might be a spell-caster. Or the parents of another child that they played with. The appearance of the talent was a cause for celebration, a sign that the child was meant for greater things. They would eventually be apprenticed to an experienced spell-caster, receiving instruction in exchange for money or performing chores. Their future was assured.
Few had been as fortunate as Saxloc. He had grown up not only with great wealth, but with parents and a grandfather that were spell-casters. When his ability had shown itself at the age of nine, his father had promptly begun to teach him. By the time he began to go on adventures at a younger age than most, his magical skills were already well-honed. And now, at the age of eighteen, they were even more advanced.
Saxloc staggered backward with his body on fire. Not literally on fire, but that was certainly what it felt like. His magic sense was overloaded, and it was affecting his other senses. Barely able to see or hear, he managed to find his way to the vicinity of the fireplace. Feeling weak and unsteady, he grabbed the wooden shelf above it, knocking off something in the process.
All he had done was to finally give Audrey the strange item that had been found buried in what remained of Farmerton. It was a metal brooch, a rounded rectangle inscribed with an odd symbol that was apparently Andoran’s family crest. There was an enchantment on the brooch, but it was weak, the remnant of a general-purpose protective charm that had faded with time. But when Audrey had taken the brooch from his hand, it had exploded not literally, but with magic—immensely strong, impossibly complex, overwhelming.
“I’m alive!” It was Audrey’s voice, but it sounded odd.
Saxloc sagged in relief as the magic began to fade. His magic sense was still numb, but at least he could finally see. Only then did he become aware of the strident warning from the mansion’s magical system filling his head, no doubt in response to the strong magic it had detected in the cottage. He ordered the warning to stop, then did a location scan. His mother was already on the way, quickly from the look of it. The three girls were presumably still at Tabitha’s house, and his father wasn’t home at the moment. But the real surprise was what showed in the cottage. He was there, of course, but Audrey was now labeled as an unknown, resulting in another warning. Even with his vision still blurry, he could see something off about her as she stood near the entrance to her bedroom.
“Excuse me,” she said, clearly addressing him. “Is this the afterlife? Have I been reborn? Is this my new body? It’s so young and strong.”
He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. Nothing about Audrey looked right. Her posture was poor, her head tilted slightly to the right, and her expression was odd—one that he had never seen before. The cadence of the words was not how Audrey spoke. It was like she had been possessed.
Saxloc forced himself to smile as he took a step toward her, still feeling wobbly. “Audrey, can you give me back the brooch for a minute?”
“No!” She clasped it to her chest with both hands. “It’s mine. My mother gave it to me. And my name’s not Audrey. But I do have a grandchild by that name.”
He simply stared in response, not understanding what was happening. She really did sound like an entirely different person. He was relieved when the front door suddenly flew open and his mother rushed in, dressed for gardening and still holding a pair of pruning shears in her right hand. In response to her sudden entrance, Audrey drew back with a look of fear.
“Audrey’s not herself,” he said weakly as his mother pocketed the shears.
“That’s not my name,” insisted Audrey, looking back and forth between the two of them. “My name is Karin. Are you elves?”
Almera’s eyes narrowed, and her jaw tensed. “Karin av Helena?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes. That’s my full name.”
“You have two daughters? Marilee and Berna?”
“Yes, and Marilee has a daughter named Audrey. She’s four-years-old. Berna’s not married yet.”
Saxloc was trying to wrap his head around the possibility that they were somehow speaking to the spirit of Audrey’s dead maternal grandmother. The brooch was obviously responsible.
With a strained smile, his mother said, “Karin, you have been dead for some time. The body you are using is your granddaughter’s.”
“It was the brooch,” said Saxloc.
Looking uncertain, Karin held out the brooch with her right hand and stared at it. “I was supposed to pass this to Marilee, but I waited too long. I died. It was stupid. I tripped over my own feet and hit my head on the stove. I was always clumsy. And I’d hid it outside under the chimney so no one would find it. That was stupid too.”
“Where did it come from, Karin?” asked Almera gently.
Karin glanced around before answering. “When I was fifteen, my mother told me that I’d been fathered by a stranger. He gave it to her. And he told her to give it to her oldest daughter and tell them to do the same. Just keep passing it down. But I didn’t.”
“Did she tell you the stranger’s name?”
Karin looked up at Almera. “Krell. She said he was handsome. And tall.”
Saxloc recognized the name, but it was either a coincidence or not the man’s real name. Krell was a famous historical figure, a charismatic warrior whose armies had united much of the continent by conquest. The calendar used in much of Andoran’s Realm was actually numbered from the foundation of what was now known as the Krellian Empire.
Returning her gaze to the brooch, Karin said, “I think I went in here after I died. It was dark, and I was all alone. But it wasn’t for long at all. And there was something else … No. It was someone else.” Karin’s face went blank briefly, and the confused look that followed was somehow familiar. “Almera?” she asked, blinking in surprise. “This is Audrey’s place. How’d I get here?”
Saxloc looked into his mother’s eyes and she nodded. There was no doubt. They were now speaking to Audrey’s dead mother.
Standing behind Audrey’s cottage, Almera listened quietly as her son explained. He had given the brooch to his grandfather, but the old elf hadn’t detected anything beyond what she and Saxloc had. Then Saxloc had simply forgotten about it after putting it in one of his desk drawers.