A Mother's Secrets

by Tuppence Van de Vaarst

  Vinet thought hard. The coalition of the western city-states was the only reason Saemar had ever been prevented from expanding to the western sea. “So Venia is likely to ask for our aid,” she said slowly.

  Pellalindra shrugged. “I assume so,” she said. “If we can prove it was the Jyrians, I am certain they will.”

  Vinet nodded.

  “I do not want us involved in a war for no gain, though.” Pellalindra said.

  Vinet had to smile. “Rest assured, Lady Pellalindra, I try to avoid war whenever possible.”

  Pellalindra’s satisfied smile was cool. “I can believe that of you, Lady Vinet.”

  Vinet raised her teacup again. “I will take that as a compliment.”

  Pellalindra laughed. “As you should, Lady Vinet. As you should.”

  **********

  “So, are you going to tell Dannan that you visited his home city without telling him?”

  Vinet laughed at Gwyn’s question. “No,” she said. “Although if he’s any sort of councilor, I’m sure he already knows. Especially if that book of his is anything to go by. Who would have suspected Dannan to write a book about magic?”

  That had been the most miraculous find on the visit to Kreutzer. Discounting their wonderful ‘University’ which was almost purely a large collection of books and the suspiciously burnt empty plot next to it, the small selection of magic books had been a treasure trove. None of them had any spell work in them, but Dannan’s went extensively into the theory of magic.

  Gwyn shook her head. “Careful around him, Vinet,” she said. “A man with those kinds of talents, and that kind of temper, is not to be trifled with.”

  “I’m not trifling with him,” Vinet held her head high. “I’m investigating. And investigating for my own interest, too. Who’s to say I didn’t hear of the magic books in Kreutzer and decided to visit it because of that?”

  Gwyn shook her head in exasperation, but their approach to the palace made it impossible to continue the conversation.

  The two guards were at the doorway, as statue-like as ever. Vinet wondered if anyone ever mistook them for real statues.

  She was early, so she took her time getting to the council chamber. She paused in the hallway to examine one of the paintings on the wall. It was an old one, painted directly on the brown sandstone that the palace was constructed in. A dragon flew overhead, breathing fire down. Below stood a man in shining armor, deflecting the fire with a golden shield that spread out, covering an entire army.

  “Admiring our dear founder?”

  Vinet turned at the sound of Dannan’s voice. She raised an eyebrow. “Admiring the artistry, actually. Though there is much about King Enlil to be admired.”

  Dannan snorted. “We know almost nothing about him besides legend. What can be admired about that?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “The fact that he apparently did something that allowed him to be remembered as a hero throughout the generations,” she said.

  Dannan shrugged.

  Curiously, he didn’t seem inclined to move past her towards the council chamber. She decided to take a risk.

  “Speaking of things we know little about,” she said. “I found a copy of your book. May I ask where you learned so much about magical theory?” She smiled guilelessly. “I’m doing an academic study and I’m having trouble finding material.”

  Dannan stared at her, his gaze disconcerting. “Magic isn’t something to be trifled with. It’s dangerous, even for mages.”

  Vinet smiled tightly. “I am aware of the dangers, which is precisely why I wish to learn more. Ignorance is the most dangerous weapon of all.”

  Dannan raised an eyebrow at her. “But of what use could the knowledge be to you? You are no mage.”

  Oh, if only you knew. Actually, it was far better that he didn’t. Not until she knew more herself.

  She forced a casual shrug. “Mages occasionally travel through Ninaeva. It’s a center of learning for everyone, after all. I’d like to know who I’m dealing with.”

  “There are better ways about learning about mages than learning about magic,” Dannan’s voice was harsh. “Especially the books you’ve consulted. 'Poddingstonstan’s Guide to Incantation Magic?’ Please. That mage was an idiot.”

  Well, there was her proof he knew about her visit to Kreutzer, anyway. That had been one of the books in the University Library.

  She laughed. She had no reason to conceal her visit. “Then perhaps you’d have better suggestions?”

  Dannan narrowed his eyes. “Yes. Stop reading about magic. You’ll only get yourself and others hurt. Or worse.” He turned and stalked away.

  Vinet stared after him. No one had wanted to talk about the burnt down house next to the University, nor answer any questions about Lord Dannan. But he had lived there, she was certain of it. As had his family.

  A family that no longer existed.

  She shook her head. Dannan might mean well, but her pursuit of magic was not going to stop because he advised it. If anything, magic was pursuing her.

  Sighing, she followed him into the council chambers. Today was going to be an interesting session.

  Sure enough, she had barely opened the door when she heard Kamian, Pellalindra, and Conn already involved in a heated discussion.

  “This situation with Venia gives us an opportunity,” Kamian was insisting. “If we intervene, they’ve indicated that they are willing to cede their independence and join the kingdom. Do you have any idea the kind of trade goods Venia produces? We’d have a port on the sea, a stepping stone to the trade routes of the wider world! Do you really want to deny the kingdom that kind of revenue?”

  “We need to deal with the threat from the south-east first!” Conn’s voice rose. “Let the city-states bicker among themselves, we have a problem of our own to deal with!”

  “A problem which could very well be minor,” Pellalindra sounded like she felt obliged to point that out.

  Conn rounded on her. “Mazda’s sake, Lady Pellalindra, she’s your scout!”

  “And it would cost the treasury a great deal to heal her, if she was healed at all,” Pellalindra refused to back down. “I am not inclined to take risks with the kingdom’s welfare like that.”

  “You were more than willing to take a risk for Lady Vinet’s expedition,” Dannan’s voice broke through the arguing.

  Vinet shot him a sharp look. It was hardly her expedition.

  The look Pellalindra bestowed upon Dannan was cool. “That, as Lady Vinet pointed out, has the promise of reward,” she said.

  “And healing your scout doesn’t?”

  “We know nothing about the marks she bears,” Pellalindra said firmly. “For all we know, it could mean nothing.”

  Vinet sat in silence, listening to the various arguments. Pellalindra seemed firmly inclined not to ask anyone else to fund the healing of her scout. Perhaps she was scared she would be accused of putting Duskryn interests before the kingdom’s.

  Kamian was, of course, intensely interested in securing Venia. They had offered a tempting deal. Break the trade blockade, and they would join Saemar unconditionally. It would give Saemar a port along the coast, and access to all the trade goods that passed through the city. Of course, it would also anger the Jyrians, who wanted Venia as well.

  Conn seemed, on an interesting note, far more concerned about the wounded scout than she would have given him credit for. Maybe part of his reputation was right, and he cared intensely for the lives of his men. Maybe it was just sympathy for a fellow soldier.

  Ellil sat silently, watching the argument. Dannan made cutting remarks about the wisdom of every decision.

  Finally, Vinet couldn’t take it anymore. “It seems we’re hampered by a lack of information,” she broke in. “Someone needs to talk to this healer and see if there is actually a chance that he would be able to heal her. Someone also needs to find out about the Venian ambassador’s murder, maybe speak to a representative to find out exactly how much reso
urces it would cost us to help them. And someone needs to follow up on the scout’s tattoos and find out if they mean anything or not.”

  Pellalindra raised an eyebrow. “Are you volunteering for one of those?”

  Unbidden, the image of the old crone hunched over her book stand entered Vinet’s mind. Perhaps she would have answers.

  “I am,” Vinet said. “I may have a lead on investigating the tattoos.”

  The rest of the councilors looked at each other.

  “I will speak to the healer,” Ellil spoke for the first time. He flushed a little as all eyes turned towards him. “As a priest, I am aware of some matters of healing.”

  “I will talk to those in charge of the inquiry into the Venian ambassador’s death,” Pellalindra said. “Perhaps they will know more about the strength of the Jyrians.”

  “And I will speak to his secretary,” Kamian nodded.

  Vinet couldn’t help but glance at Dannan, who had sat silent during the allocation of tasks.

  “Don’t look at me,” he said, raising his hands. “You seem to have everything handled.”

  His smug smile made anger flare. Vinet narrowed her eyes. “Are these plans made by a northern idiot satisfactory to you?” she asked pointedly. To her surprise and satisfaction, Dannan paled.

  “That,” he said quietly. “I am sorry for that, for what I said. I was… not myself.”

  Vinet stared at him for a moment, curious. The man was the prince’s tutor. The king placed an inordinate amount of trust in him. He couldn’t be untrustworthy, and yet… he didn’t seem entirely stable.

  Finally, she nodded. “Shall we reconvene in say, four candlemarks?” she asked.

  There was a chorus of agreement. Vinet sighed in relief. At least something had been agreed on.

  **********

  The marketplace population was sparse, usual for late Manyu’s Time. No Jyrian merchants, however, and only one Venian, who looked rather worse for wear. Vinet’s lips tightened. Saemar could not remain insular, ignore its neighbors, and expect to be unaffected.

  The book stand was nowhere in sight. Vinet stifled a curse. The spot where it had last stood was empty. However, something, perhaps nothing more than curiosity, drew her to its location. Although the weather was dark and cloudy, or perhaps because of it, a glint of light on the ground caught her attention. A gem. Dark red, it seemed to pulse slightly. Vinet stared at it for a long moment. Against every instinct, against her better judgment, she crouched down next to the gem and hesitantly reached out to touch it. In the instant her fingers made contact, the faint pulsing ceased. She felt a slight tingle on her backbone, right between her shoulder blades. Hastily, she removed her hand.

  The tingle vanished, but the gem started pulsing again. Vinet stared at it. This was unlike anything she’d ever read about. She reached out again, slightly more confident this time. Instead of simply touching, she reached out to grab it. As she did, the gem sank into the pavement.

  Vinet stared at the gem in astonishment. What on earth had caused that to happen?

  She bent forward to examine the ground more closely. There were scratch marks around the gem, as if someone had taken a dagger and attempted to pry it out of the stone.

  She glanced down at her satchel. Slowly, she pulled out the black book that the bookseller had given her last time. She had meant to ask about it.

  A thought occurred to her. She glanced around. No one was watching. “Gwyn, would you keep watch, please?”

  Gwyn gave her a look full of apprehension, but she nodded and started scanning the marketplace.

  Vinet took a deep breath and situated herself cross-legged on the ground next to the gem. She flipped the book of truths open on her lap. “AeresThonEsia, may I speak with you?”

  A laugh, low and pleasant, emanated from the book. Vinet nearly dropped it in astonishment. Gwyn gasped and turned towards her as the laugh changed to a chortling cacophony. It nearly deafened her as the page changed in front of her eyes. A face, vaguely reminiscent of Niara’s, though more elven in nature, appeared on the page, set in the middle of a vast and intricate labyrinth.

  Vinet felt a hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?” Gwyn demanded.

  Vinet stared at the labyrinth, mesmerized. “It’s all right,” she said. Carefully, she reached out to touch the page and began tracing the labyrinthine pattern.

  She needed answers. And the skull tattoo was the most pressing question. She set the image of the tattoo in her mind. “I have some questions, if you do not mind.”

  As she reached the center of the labyrinth, her vision went black and blue. The laughter grew louder and louder, filling her ears. She couldn’t hear Gwyn, though she could see her friend’s panicked face in front of her. She tried to reach out, but there was a flash of light, and then darkness.

  Laughter filled her senses. It changed, growing from a chuckle, to a malicious cackle that sent shivers down her spine. Then it changed again. Screams split her skull, and she opened her mouth, trying to cry out in fear. There was no sound. Nothing. Her eyes flew open.

  Silence. There was silence. Vinet stood, gasping, staring straight. There was a mirror there. But instead of her own reflection, it was a full-grown Niara. Her features were elven, though, sending a pang through Vinet’s heart.

  Then she blinked. It wasn’t Niara. It was her. But as a full-blood elf.

  She looked around. Somewhere, deep inside her, was buried the remainder of the panic, but it seemed to be separated from her somehow.

  Two paths led from the mirror, one to the left, and one to the right. There was no difference between them. They both looked like tunnels, stretching off into infinity.

  She took a deep breath. She couldn’t just stand here. Determined, she turned to the right and set off. Something made her glance over her shoulder as she did. Swallowing, she noticed the passage closing behind her.

  Well, there’s no turning back now.

  It seemed like an eternity. There was no way for her to tell time. Finally, suddenly, another mirror appeared before her. It was her reflection again. But this time, she was fully human.

  Vinet stared at the mirror for a long moment. It was her mother. Or, almost her mother. The features were still definitely her own, if slightly different. She smiled, feeling the familiar warmth of affection. She had lost her mother too early.

  There was something else, though. An admiration, unfamiliar to her. It seemed to be centered on a man she had never met.

  My father. Vinet turned her thoughts away from the mirror. She looked around. As before, two paths stretched before her, one right and one left.

  Well, it had served her well so far. She turned to the right, not bothering to look back this time. If the passageway was going to disappear behind her, it would.

  It seemed like no time at all had passed when a third mirror appeared before her. Vinet stared at it blankly. This time it was her.

  There were no changes in her features. The same mix of elven and human that was in her own blood reflected before her. Try as she might, Vinet could not muster any feelings.

  She looked around again and swallowed as she realized that this was a dead end. No other passages appeared for her to choose from. The passage behind her, however, was still wide open. She stared back, vaguely aware of a niggling voice that warned against retracing her steps. But what else could she do?

  Hesitantly, she turned and started walking back the way she came. Maybe it would lead to the second mirror, and she could take the turning left. She only made it a few steps before the path seemed to narrow. She turned sideways, trying to push down the fear rising inside her.

  Suddenly a cry sounded behind her, and she nearly turned back. It sounded like her own.

  She stopped.

  All around her, she could feel blood rushing, a low thumping, like the sounds of a heart. Her own heart quickened, keeping pace with the rhythm around her.

  Then she saw it.

  A skull, floating and grinn
ing, ringed by eyes, eyes that looked everywhere and nowhere. It was moving towards her.

  She swallowed and stared at the skull, terror rising. “What are you? Where do you come from?” she tried to sound authoritative but her voice cracked. Her mouth felt dry. Her demand made no impression on it. It kept approaching, floating in the air, its jaw opening and closing. Three tongues simply floated in the darkness of its maw.

  She couldn’t hear anything. She couldn’t think. All she could do was watch in mounting terror.

  Then, behind her, a voice, male, soft and melodic. “Vinet Elfsdaughter…”

  A scream from the skull made her jerk around again. It was moving faster towards her now.

  She glanced behind her again. There was nowhere to run from the skull. It was a dead end!

  The voice sounded behind her again, saying nothing but her name. Another scream made her jerk back towards the skull. It was almost upon her.

  It was too much. She turned and bolted back down the passageway. Screams followed her, and she could hear the licking of the tongues reaching out to her.

  The mirror rose up in front of her, a stark barrier. She nearly wept. All that was left of her reflection was her eyes.

  “Elfsdaughter. Daughter! Come here.”

  Vinet stared at the mirror, from where the voice seemed to be coming. She reached out desperately, her hands braced on the mirror. “Father! What do I do?”

  The screaming was almost upon her. She closed her eyes.

  A sharp pain burned between her shoulder blades. She heard a low rushing, and then silence. The mirror disappeared, and she fell forward onto her knees.

  She scrambled to her feet, gasping. She was no longer in the labyrinth. Around her there was a lush garden. Clear paths were laid out in front of her. The garden was still, with no sound of birds, animals, or wind, but nevertheless a sense of peace settled on her.

  Ahead of her, on a low, wooden bench, sat AeresThonEsia. The woman, no longer really a crone, regarded Vinet with a tilted head and a smile.

  Vinet stared at her. Somewhere, in memory of her panicked run, she was still breathing heavily. “How… where…” she stopped herself. This was no ordinary woman. And considering what she had just been through… politeness was most definitely in order. She took another deep breath and bowed. “Greetings, lady,” she said.