by Unknown
She took note of the skull-shaped brass knocker on the front door as they approached the residence. Ice pounded the door three times with the knocker and then stepped back, as if to allow the skull to have a good view of him.
She and Zeal shared a glance when they saw the eyes in the skull begin to glow red and its mouth move as it spoke.
“Who is there and what do you want?”
“Master Feneas, you have visitors. It’s me, Ice, and I am accompanied by two young guides. Now please open the door and let us in.”
“Ice? Ice you say? Turn around and let me look at you. You still go by that silly name?”
He turned slowly in a circle. “The name is not silly, and yes, I still use it. I don’t know how Essmee puts up with you. Have her give me a look, if you don’t believe I am who I say.”
“I can see you myself, and Essmee is busy. Come in, and don’t forget to wipe your feet on the mat.”
The glow in the skull’s eyes faded, and the door opened with a loud click. She and Zeal followed closely behind Master Ice. The door closed quietly behind them.
Ice cleaned his shoes on a large, woven-grass mat on the floor then pointed at it and the two of them. “Well, you heard Master Feneas. He meant for you to use this as well.”
Tulip and Zeal performed the required task. The comfortably furnished cottage had stairs that led up from the entry, a kitchen off to the left, and a living area on the right. As she was about to ask where their host was, a section of the stairs lifted into the air. A man with thinning, white, shoulder-length hair dressed in a black robe stepped out of the revealed passage holding an oak staff topped with a crystalline skull. Although he was stooped with age, his still-bright eyes sharply looked them over.
He looked over his shoulder and yelled, “Yes, it really is him! Don’t bother yourself now, Essmee.” He leaned on his staff and shuffled up to Ice. “Well, don’t just stand there. Give me a hug. It has been seven seasons, mind you.”
Tulip saw raw emotion grace Ice’s face for the first time as he gently gathered Master Feneas in his arms and held him close.
Master Feneas was the one who finally broke away. “Who are these two? Don’t tell me you have finally decided to pass on all that you have learned from me and Essmee.”
Master Ice was grinning broadly and seemed to Tulip to look much nicer.
“This is Tulip and Zeal. They are acting as my guides while I am here in Arlanda and can be trusted not to give away any of your secrets.”
“I’ll let Essmee be the judge of that. You all might as well come on down. Be forewarned, she is in a mood. The old girl disappeared on me for about a moon last season, and when she returned, she was expecting. I didn’t think she had it in her to go out and get pregnant.” Huffing, he crossed his arms across his chest. “And she won’t tell me anything about the babe’s father for some reason. Then, after she delivered, she wouldn’t let me touch the young one; like I would harm a hair on the babe, mind you.”
Tulip made eye contact with Zeal as they followed the two men into the passage and down the steps. Zeal winked and gave her a brief smile. Master Ice positioned himself to be able to lend a hand to Master Feneas, if one was needed. Paying Master Feneas a visit was proving to be much more enlightening than conducting Lady Mirada to the Temple.
“Are you talking about the Essmee I know? How long ago did she give birth, and what did she have?”
“Oh, let me think for a moment. It has been almost three moons now since she delivered. I don’t know if she had a male or female. Essmee takes care of the babe, and I take care of Essmee. The worst part is I haven’t had my sleeper heated since the arrival. At my age, having warm feet is a luxury, and my feet have been cold all winter. Essmee stays down stairs and grumbles if I get too close. There are spice cakes and cider for you and our guests. You did wipe your feet, didn’t you?”
Ice chuckled. “Yes, sir, we all did.”
Tulip gazed around the large chamber at the bottom of the stairs. The right side was cloaked in darkness, sharp as the edge of a fog bank on the bay. How strange that nothing could be seen within its confines. Although curious, she sensed it was best to stay away from the area and walked as far from that part of the room as she could without making it appear she was purposefully avoiding contact. She’d hoped that Zeal would be his typical self and make an inappropriate enquiry regarding the spot, but he was being unusually quiet. The rest of the chamber was used as a work, living, and cooking space.
Master Feneas led them to a table surrounded by five chairs and set with a pitcher beaded with condensation, napkins, and a platter of sliced cake. “Sit. Have something to eat and drink.”
Tulip sat and took a piece of cake when Zeal passed her the platter. He had the intent look on his face he acquired when he was focused on solving a dilemma. She placed the cake on a napkin, filled a cup with cider. Two of the room’s walls were lined with shelves containing books, scrolls, small bottles, figurines, and other objects. Glowing globes cast bright light throughout the chamber, except for the area cloaked in shadow. The contents and subtle odors of vinegar, wax, and wet ashes reminded her of Qwen’s work space.
Ice rose from his seat and approached the darkness. He stopped short of its border and hesitated for a period of heartbeats before turning back to Master Feneas. “Essmee is happy to see me but doesn’t want me near them.”
Tulip was puzzled. How had Essmee communicated with Master Ice when she hadn’t heard anything?
Ice returned to his seat. “Essmee said she will let us know of her needs.”
Feneas took a sip from his cup. “Tell us, Ice, what has brought you to our door?”
Ice leaned forward. “I currently am residing in Havensharth.”
“I have heard of Havensharth but have never journeyed there. If my memory serves me right, is that not the place the Bards chose to build a library to collect their lore close to a hundred and fifty seasons ago?”
“You’re correct. Since the library’s inception, many people from all paths of life have journeyed there to study the Bards’ knowledge. Some have even stayed and started their own enclaves.”
“Who is currently in charge of the library?”
“A man called Greyhook carries the mantel of Senior Bard. An enclave has been established by Practitioners of the Arts. They have built a Repository of the Arts, to function similarly to the Bards’ library, to serve as a place for Practitioners to train and prevent conjures from being lost when the creator of the conjure dies.”
Feneas nodded. “I’ve known of the existence of the Repository but have never had a reason to pay it a visit.”
“A companion and I were chosen by the enclaves to purchase supplies and raw materials that cannot be obtained in and around Havensharth and return with the cargo. Since the ship we hired was making a stop at Arlanda, I was provided an opportunity to pay a visit to you and Essmee.”
Feneas smiled with pleasure. “How fortunate. You are welcome to stay with us, of course.”
Ice pointed over his shoulder. “As grumpy as Essmee seems, I think it best that I reside elsewhere. Lodging has been arranged at the Slumbering Giant. Didn’t you once write a treatise on the Arts as they related to death and dying? I would love to take a copy back to the Repository, if you wouldn’t mind. As far as I am concerned, you are the leader in knowledge as it applies to the Necromantic Arts, and I have yet to meet anyone with more expertise.”
Tulip raised her hand. “Excuse me, sirs. Am I to understand that you are both Practitioners of the Arts?” She also wondered what Necromantic Arts were but chose to wait on asking for clarification.
Feneas chuckled. “Yes, we are. Ice didn’t tell you?”
“No, he didn’t. We both thought you were the mentor who taught him the lessons of the Trade. Isn’t that so, Zeal?” Tulip turned toward Zeal, only to find he was no longer sitting next to her. She looked behind her and spotted him across the chamber on the floor, lying prone. The darkness that had occ
upied that area was gone. A chill ran through her. His head was in his hands, supported by his elbows, and he was staring eye to eye at what looked to be a large house cat. The huge feline stood beside the little one, staring intently at Zeal, long, sharp claws extended in and out of the forepaw closest to him. She began to tremble at the sight. Zeal was going to be eaten, she knew it. She forced herself not to reach for her Fang and turned to Master Feneas with hope that he would help Zeal.
Tulip pointed. “That is Essmee?”
Feneas spoke softly. “Oh dear, we do have a situation, don’t we.” He interrupted Ice when Ice rose from his chair. “Stop. You have to let this play out. Now is not the time to interfere. I don’t think Essmee intends to hurt the boy, and this is the first chance I’ve had to view her cub.”
Ice turned his chair around and sat. “It’s as you say, Master Feneas, if she doesn’t feel Zeal is a threat to her babe, he should be safe.”
Feneas sat next to Tulip and placed his arm across her shoulders. “Essmee is a Shadow Cat. She is the most beautiful and perfect representative of her kind. Look at her. She weighs nineteen stone, is almost eleven hands to the shoulder when standing, her head and body length is close to fourteen hands, and her magnificent tail is nine hands long.”
“I’m sorry, Master Feneas, but your description of Essmee is not reassuring me.” She heard the pride in Master Feneas’s voice when he spoke of Essmee but was still fearful for Zeal. Maybe this was why Zeal had seemed distracted. Trouble had found him, like always.
Feneas pointed. “Essmee is not of our terrene but from the terrene of Shadow. In Shadow, her distinctive, dusky gray color and mottling enables her to blend into her surroundings. Shadow Cats are a hunter bar none and Essmee is exceptional.”
“Ice, look closely. From its appearance, I think Essmee’s babe is only half Shadow Cat. The tan coloring, faint striping and clouding of the coat belong to no species I recognize. Whatever terrene the father originates from is neither ours nor of Shadow. I can’t see if the cub is male or female, but from the size it is already, it will be bigger than its mother when grown.”
Zeal and the Shadow Cats were so still. What was happening to him? Tulip wondered, wanting to help him but not knowing how.
Ice leaned forward. “Tulip, how long has Zeal been over there?”
She startled. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. I was concentrating on your discussion. Master Feneas, how did you get Essmee?”
Feneas’s eyes widened and he burst forth in a bout of mirth. “My, I haven’t laughed like that in ages. You see, young lady, I didn’t get Essmee. She obtained me. Many seasons ago, while studying about terrenes, I was given a scroll to try to translate. In an attempt to discern the pronunciation of some of the words, I carelessly started reading them out loud to myself. After reading one long passage, I was suddenly encased in a gray fog. When it fog dissipated, I was no longer in my workroom. You see, unknowingly, I had been translating a scroll to transport one to the terrene of Shadow.”
Tulip found herself drawn into the tale but kept her eyes on Zeal. “What did you do? How did you get home?”
“It took a moment for me to get over the disorienting effects of the travel. Looking up, I realized I was not alone. Twenty paces in front of me was a creature I recognized from my recent studies as a Shadow Boar. It was the size of a bull, had a spiked tail that twitched side to side, tusks that protruded from its lower jaws, and eyes that glowed green in the dim light. I could hear its teeth gnashing together.”
Ice winked at her. “I think that boar becomes larger with every telling.”
Feneas ignored Ice’s remark. “The animal took a cautious stride toward me. From the way it was appraising me, I knew it planned on me becoming its next meal. It suddenly stopped its approach and started backing away, eyes locked in my direction the whole time. What I didn’t realize was the boar was no longer looking at me but, instead, was staring at something behind me. I heard a voice in my head—not with my ears, mind you—yell, “Mine!”
Caught in the telling, Tulip reached for Master Feneas’s hand and continued to listen intently. His hand was rougher then she expected, a working man’s hand, and she drew strength from his touch.
“That Shadow Boar turned and ran off while I stayed frozen in place, wondering what was going to feast on me in its stead. Gathering courage from who knows where, I slowly turned and saw Essmee. To my surprise, she proceeded to scold me and informed me that I was worse than a new cub who had wandered out of the den with no idea of the dangers in the world. She brought me back home and has stayed with me ever since.”
Tulip glanced over to Zeal. His position was unchanged. He and the babe continued to stare at each other while both were watched over closely by the cat’s mother. “How long have you and Essmee been together?”
“Well, Tulip, she has been with me for sixty-four seasons. I was nineteen seasons when she took me on. Outside of brief periods when she is hunting, Essmee has left me for an extended period only eight times in the past. On three of those occasions, she came back a newly expectant mother, once with a set of twins, and her cubs all had Shadow Cats as fathers. The babes stayed until they were adults and eventually returned to the Shadow terrene. Growing up, they never had much to do with me. I was just tolerated by them. But Essmee never kept me away from them, as she has with this babe.”
“You mean to say you are eighty-three seasons and Essmee is more than sixty-three, herself?”
“Yes, my dear, you have the right of it.” Feneas turned toward Ice. “This man, I adopted him when he was just a boy. He left us after becoming a Master of the Arts twenty seasons ago. Essmee and I have followed his travels. Periodically, she would look in on him for me and let me know how he was doing. We came to Arlanda two seasons after I last saw him.”
Ice glanced toward Feneas. “I never knew Essmee was looking in on me, but then she can be nearly impossible to detect, if one doesn’t know she is around.”
Feneas smiled toward him. “It took a while for the neighborhood to get used to the idea of staying off the property and leaving it and me be.”
Tulip nodded and said, “I was surprised by your property’s lack of protection. The estate is not walled, nor are there bars on the windows.”
Ice laughed. “Not very many people have talking skulls for door knockers. I am sure that many have learned the hard way to leave the residence alone. Master Feneas and Essmee can be very persuasive, and Essmee tolerates no fools.”
Tulip squeezed Feneas’s hand. “Excuse me, but how much longer do you think we have to wait? Are you sure Zeal isn’t in any danger?”
Feneas gently tightened his grip. “Zeal should not have gone near the babe. Hopefully, he’ll have a good reason for his behavior and Essmee will allow him the opportunity to explain. We have to be patient, and when they are done over there, we’ll know the outcome of his visit.”
He released her hand and shuffled over to the bookcase next to the fireplace, where he removed a book that looked identical to three others beside it and handed the volume to Ice. “I had a few copies made of the treatise you asked about and had planned to present one to you the next time I saw you. This is yours to keep. I’ll give you another to place in the Repository at Havensharth.”
Ice opened the tome. Tulip was able to view the neat writing scribbled inside on the first page.
To Ice, the son I never had. May you always find your light in the darkness.
—T. A. Feneas
The two men embraced, again demonstrating the love and respect they had for each other. Tulip realized that she was not only concerned for Zeal, but was developing a fondness for Master Feneas.
Feneas removed a pocket square, dabbed his eyes, and loudly blew his nose. “Ice, you should be aware that, when I pass away, all I have will belong to you. You know how Essmee and I feel about you. All the legal documents have been signed and recorded with the Magistrate. This residence will not open to anyone but you, when the time come
s, unless Essmee allows them inside.”
“You have a lot of seasons left to you, Master Feneas. You and Essmee both. I won’t have to worry about my inheritance for a long time yet.” Ice’s voice was husky with emotion.
Tulip heard Zeal’s loud yelp. She looked his way and saw blood running from his mouth and dripping off his chin to the floor.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
MIRADA WAS HAPPY to allow her two guides to act as porters and carry her purchases. She’d even bought a few extra items that would return with her to Havensharth. Mehrle and Fronc had proven to be knowledgeable, confident, and alert to their surroundings, yet casual and unassuming. They did not attempt to stand out or draw attention to themselves. Although willing to share what they knew of Arlanda, they were closed-mouthed about themselves.
“Since we are headed there, tell me what you know about the Temple of the Ladies of Life.”
The children looked at each other. It appeared they were trying to decide what to reveal. She waited patiently until Mehrle finally spoke.
“We live at the Temple. Lady Izlan is the Matriarch. The Temple cares for children who have no one else to look out for them.”
Mirada thought back on the day more than twelve seasons ago when then-Commander Casteel walked out of her tent with an iris bloom in hand. It was a shock to everyone when she announced she was disbanding the company and pursuing a new calling. Then a junior officer, she’d attended the meeting the Commander convened.
Upon entering the command tent, she’d seen black iris blossoms covering the Commander’s cot, her travel desk, map table, chairs, and even the chamber pot. The air had been pleasantly scented, not overpowering, as one might expect a tent full of blooms to be. Izlan had not been forthcoming on how or why all the flowers came to be in her tent. It had been the middle of the winter season; any bulbs should have been dormant and the irises impossible to obtain. Since none of the senior staff asked her about them, she had chosen not to, as well.