by Gavin Green
14
Enochia was exhausted. She still hadn't allowed any time to replenish her low reserves of glamour, but had finally decided to do just that. No more lingering, waiting for the next vision to come. No more efforts of clairvoyance to form conclusions and foresee events - at least not for a short while.
Her servant Harkin was told to gather any books that interested him for their temporary return to her Lore holdings. Once at her comforting cliff-side sanctuary that overlooked a roiling sea, she planned to steadily regain her power. It was a necessity if she was to be of any further use in the troubles to come.
Out in the hall of Enochia's dilapidated Verden haven, her faithful harpy servant was heard shuffling and stacking old tomes, filling a satchel for the journey. Meanwhile, the seer was in her parlor, pulling a thick black sheet over her engraved alabaster table.
A whim struck her then, to draw one of her long blue fingers through the curved and spiral inlaid runes once more out of habit. Before her digit even touched the cool white stone, the grooves just below her touch flared with a momentary but intense orange light. "Curse the elements," she muttered to herself.
By the signs that the Drommen seer could discern, the brilliance of the table's light was unmistakable even in her present condition. She would place no further reliance on reading her visions beyond the simple signs. Danger and violence was coming; not to her, but to someone she knew - someone worthy of assistance. Who that was could not be discerned with any clarity, although the danger was in the very immediate future.
There were other glimpses of markers and locations that she was reasonably sure of. But as for who and why, she had no idea.
"Are you in distress, Mistress?" Harkin's excellent hearing caught her exasperated mumble. He stood at the doorway to the dim parlor, alert and ready to serve.
Enochia remained standing, although the desire to fall back into her thickly padded chair was tempting. She finished pulling the table cloth into place and placed one trembling hand on the table for support. "That may be one way to describe my present state, Harkin. Come, step forward." While he walked slowly into the room, she said, "A situation that requires urgent attention has come to me. I have a messenger's chore for you."
"Of course, Mistress," he replied in his soft, velvety voice. "Is our return to your holdings postponed?"
"Only for you, good servant; I am all but useless and will take my permanent bridge back there shortly. Once you have done my bidding, you may join me."
"Yes, Mistress, thank you."
"Now then," Enochia began, obviously fatigued, "you have probably had few dealings with undines, the undersized low-caste that keep to water. While many of them do not wish to serve a master, almost all that linger in this Verden area do. And they serve but one: the merrow Lochlan."
Harkin understood that his task was made simpler by that fact, although he had no idea how to properly initiate contact with them. "How should I carry out your wishes, Mistress?"
"Any shore of Lough Gaell would serve your needs best. Simply place a talon or wingtip in the water and whisper that there is a message for their master. Continue to do so until one of them greets you; they will convey your words." Enochia paused to stand straight and pull her shawl snugly around her. "As a word of caution, undines are proud and petulant faelings. They are also disproportionately strong, so choose your words carefully."
"Thank you for the warning, Mistress." Harkin then waited patiently for her to gather her words. He was eager to see to her task and be done with it quickly; his Mistress was weak and needed protection.
"My message for their master is thus," Enochia said with labored breath. "Not far to the east of Lough Gaell is a body of water large enough but too shallow to be named. Lochlan and his minions will know of where I speak. I ask that he take himself there with haste, and to keep watch. A struggle of some sort will take place in that vicinity. Should he decide to intercede in my favor, I will recognize a debt."
"Yes, Mistress, I shall deliver your message now." Harkin moved to leave but hesitated. "Mistress, I mean no disrespect to this master Lochlan, but will he know what to watch for?"
"I would hope so," she sighed. "There will be blood in the water."