“This is astounding,” Myranda said.
Myn lowered her head to drink from the cool clean brook. Myranda shut her eyes, trying to focus on what her mystic senses told her about the place. The tower had always been a particularly potent mystic focus. It straddled a meeting of several ley lines. Myranda had, to her minor embarrassment, never truly understood the nature of ley lines, but she knew that gathering mystic powers to a task was far simpler here. Beyond that faint warmth and clarity in the back of her mind, she couldn’t detect anything in the least supernatural at work in the clearing. It was as if the circular patch of forest with the tower at its center had changed its mind about its favored climate.
Her concentration shattered as the door to the cottage wrapped about the tower’s base pulled open. A portly and exceedingly irritable man in dingy white robes and a pointed hat stormed out along the gravel path leading to the door.
“Is this your doing?” he barked.
“Wolloff! What are you doing here?”
“We move the books out, we move the books in, a great big stir about soldiers coming this way and that. When the whole commotion is through, I decided to move back in. I only just get settled, and I wake up to find flowers and grass where snow should be. Now is it your doing or not?”
“Had I known you were here, I would have asked you the same question,” Myranda said.
“I’m a white wizard! Why would I go messing about with the seasons? Which this isn’t, as I’ve lived here off and on for years and it’s never looked this way that I can remember,” he snapped.
Myn thumped up and lowered her fearsome face to his. “Be nice,” she instructed.
Wolloff gave the dragon a hard look. “Don’t think I don’t remember the little whelp you used to be.”
The comment did not soften Myn’s expression. Wolloff pointed at Myranda.
“And don’t think I don’t remember the young rebel you used to be. All the respect in the world to you, Your Majesty, but if you’re tinkering with my little piece of the world, I’ll thank you to remember where the border is. This is Vulcrest.”
“Be nice,” Myn rumbled.
“Myn, it is fine. Why don’t you go have a meal?”
Myn sidled a fair distance along the clearing in order to keep Wolloff locked in her gaze for as long as possible. She lingered, took a whiff of the air, and dashed off. Myranda shifted her focus back to the wizard.
“Wolloff, this is not my doing. What could have caused this?”
“I don’t know what could have caused it, but I know what didn’t. This isn’t magic that did this. Not directly, anyway.” He stomped his foot, sending a blossom of dandelion seeds into the air. “This hasn’t got the shape or the will of magic to it.”
“I agree.”
“Of course you agree. I taught you well and you learned well. This is something deeper than magic. To every means of observation available to me, this is what this patch of forest thinks it ought to be doing.”
Myranda gazed at her surroundings. “Caya spoke of a curious event to the north. But it was brief and unconfirmed. This is unmistakable.”
“Unmistakable, yes. And nefarious.”
She took a breath of the fresh air. “It doesn’t seem worrisome to me.”
“It is unexplained and it is happening to my tower. That’s quite nefarious enough for me.”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday or the day before. I’m not certain. I may have lost a day studying it.”
“I am going to have to look into this.”
“Indeed you are.” Wolloff removed his hat and wiped sweat from his brow. Having vented his frustrations, he seemed a good deal more composed. “I… I suppose it would be proper to thank you for the invitations to the ceremonies of late. And to apologize for my absence.”
“No need to apologize. There are so many of them. And if you’d been present at the coin ceremony, you might have missed this change.” She paced to the edge of the clearing, where the snow patchily returned, along with the chill in the air. “I’m not certain if I should be sorry that Deacon isn’t here to tug at this riddle or happy he isn’t here to be distracted by it.”
Myn thundered back into the clearing. Her time in the lap of luxury hadn’t dulled her hunting skills in the slightest. Her satisfied grin was tinted with her recent meal, and she faithfully dropped a second elk, in its entirety, at Myranda’s feet.
“Staying for supper then, are you?” Wolloff asked.
All the freedom and ease of her flight began to erode. She’d seen enough of the dark and unexplainable in her life that even something so innocuous as a bit of lovely unexplained weather was enough to set off cascades of concern in her mind. Her instinct screamed at her to call Deacon back, to rally the troops and find what this was about. She stifled those feelings. It needed to be investigated, certainly. But Deacon would gladly give up his chance at recovery to tangle with this puzzle. And more to the point, if this was something threatening, she wanted to be with her son.
“Have you been given one of Deacon’s pads?”
“The ones where everyone can spy on what one another is writing?”
“That is one way to put it.”
“I haven’t.”
Myranda paced to Myn’s side and pulled one from her things.
“This is mine. I have others at home. Keep it, and if something happens that we need to know about, make a note of it. We will do the same for you. I have to get home.”
#
Deacon and Desmeres stepped from the carriage in front of the Cave of the Beast.
“If Myranda has done her diligence, and I have no reason to suppose that she hasn’t, then someone will be along to collect the horses tomorrow. Will they be well enough here?” Deacon asked.
“Better than we’ll be,” Desmeres said, staring down the mouth of the cave. “This is not a pleasant place.”
They shouldered their provisions.
“Let’s not waste time,” he said. “We won’t know if the cave is fully passable until we have made it a fair distance inside. In the best case, we can make it through in two or three days. It won’t be the best case, because I’m working from seventy-five-year-old memories, and the cave is seldom obliging. But we should move quickly. On the off chance the cave is clear or soon will be, it will save us several months of waiting if we’re able to take advantage.”
He sparked a small, dim lantern to life. The light was a curious one, with a comically large reservoir of oil and scarcely a candle’s worth of light. It was clearly the sort of thing meant to last for ages.
“As I am the one with the expertise, such as it is, I am going to lay down the law right now,” he said, pacing into the darkened interior.
“Of course.”
Desmeres pointed to the trickle of water running from the mouth of the cave. “The water is flowing. That is not a good sign. It means there is at least some flooding in the cave.”
“That stands to reason.”
“There will be no exploring. This mountain is a honeycomb of passages. Thousands of them, branching and looping upon themselves in confounding ways. As far as I know, the safe routes through the cave can be counted on one hand. Trust me when I tell you, we will not be finding a new route through. So do not question my instructions.”
“I bow to your expertise.”
“Especially now, with the walls and floor slick with water, death waits at every corner. Your magic won’t save you. If we keep walking, within the hour it will take everything you have to conjure even the simplest effect.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Do not deviate from the path I lay out.” He turned to face Deacon. “Because we are going to get turned around, even with my guidance. I will lay out a plan. This water flows from the heart of the cave. For the first half of this trip, only two directions matter. Forward, and upward. Forward is against the flow of the water, and upward is
self-explanatory. If you head with the flow, you are heading in the wrong direction. If you head downward, eventually you will find a flooded chamber and have to turn back.”
“Understood.”
“And this is the most important. If we are heading forward, we do not head left. I don’t care if we are running from a cave-in. Left is death.”
“You are certain?” Deacon said.
“What did I say about questioning me?” Desmeres held up his false hand. “The last time I ventured in that direction, I lost my hand. A great many things have been lost there, and as far as I am concerned, they can stay lost. Now let’s go. Slow, steady pace. Forward. Upward.”
In just the space of the briefing, they had moved beyond the light from the mouth of the cave. The meager flame and the smolder of Deacon’s crystal were their only illumination. In the flickering glow, Desmeres caught glimpses of the wizard’s face.
“You are smiling.”
“This is a fascinating place,” Deacon said.
“The next few days will disabuse you of that opinion, I can assure you of that.”
#
Leo toddled through the palace. The little boy had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. Ivy stalked low behind him. The pair looked like they were on the hunt.
“What do you think? Any guesses?” Ivy whispered, angling her ears this way and that.
“Nuh. Guh, guh, guh,” Leo opined.
He teetered forward. The little boy turned a corner, heading for the long hallway with the doors to his room and that of the king and queen. Ivy caught him and righted him as he attempted to take the turn far more quickly than his posture would allow. The boy moved as though his legs and his head were only vaguely aware of each other’s intentions.
It had taken a fair amount of persuading, but Ivy had talked the rest of the staff into leaving them be during the evening. They tended to distract Leo from the very important business at hand.
He tottered to his doorway and stopped.
“Is she in there?” Ivy said suspiciously. “She could be anywhere, you know.”
Leo entered his bedroom and peered about. A single candle lit the room. He surveyed the many toys, some made of cloth, others of wood. After deep consideration, he pointed to a specific toy soldier in a set of six on the top shelf.
“Feep,” he accused.
Ivy stood and plucked the soldier from the shelf. “You’re sure?”
“Feep.”
The malthrope eyed the toy. “Well?”
All watched the carved and painted piece of wood. After time enough to sow doubt in Ivy’s mind, the figurine shuddered and then burst into a rush of wind.
“Ha, ha! That’s three out of five,” Ivy taunted as the disguised shapeshifter returned to her human form.
“I do not understand how the boy can identify me…” Ether said, crouching to inspect him. “You are more focused than you appear.”
“Feep,” Leo said with a poke to her chin.
Ivy picked him up. “Three out of five. You know what that means. You watch him tonight.”
“I never should have made the wager.”
“But you did and I won, so you watch him tonight.”
“Why would you have me watch the boy? You like watching him.”
“You should have some time with him. After all. I’m Ivy, you’re Feep. You should at least spend time enough for him to learn your real name.”
“If he can identify a perfectly disguised elemental, he should certainly be able to master something as simple as a name. I suspect the boy is doing it on purpose.”
“Then you should be friendly enough for him to not want to pull your strings anymore.”
Ether shook her head. “If I am to watch the boy, I should select one of his stories. He seems to like them better than my own.”
“Don’t be long. It’s past bedtime and Myranda is going to be back soon. I don’t want us to look like bad aunties. Even if an auntie is supposed to let the nephew break the rules.”
Ether whisked away.
“Just a few more minutes and then stories and bed. What do you want to do until then?”
“Go!” Leo said.
He toddled out into the hall again. Ivy followed.
“Where are you going? There’s nothing over there,” she said.
He teetered and wheeled with purpose toward a small dead end of a hallway. There were a few of them scattered along the wall. For the life of her, Ivy couldn’t work out what they’d initially been designed to do. They didn’t lead to any rooms. The only distinctive feature at the end of each was a large wall with a smooth surface. Rather than a showcase for some manner of art or history as she would have expected, which would at least give some reason for the alcove, it was precisely the opposite. The wall was kept clear and clean, making the absence of decoration almost glaring. Leo stopped in front of it.
“Go,” he said, pointing at the wall.
“There’s nothing there, Leo. It’s a wall. Why do you always come here? That last door we passed was to your room. Let’s head back.”
“Dada. Go.”
“Dada won’t be back for a while. Let’s go see if Auntie Ether picked a book yet.”
“Go!” Leo snapped.
Ivy grumbled. “This is the only time you’re not any fun. And that includes when you make a mess.” She leaned heavily on the wall. “Look? See? Not a door. There’s nowhere to go.” She placed her sensitive ear to the wall. “I can hear the wind on the other side. Even if there were a door, it would just lead outside.”
“Go,” Leo said.
He stepped up to the wall and pressed his little hand to it. Compared to the shove Ivy had given, it was nothing at all. Nevertheless, the moment his palm touched the wall, the smooth section hinged open. Ivy snatched him from the floor in a panic, fully expecting the section of wall to swing out over the courtyard below. It didn’t. Instead, it revealed a large, comfortable room. Initially dark, crystals flared to life to reveal what appeared to be a small workshop. A simple counter, something of a desk meant to be used standing rather than sitting, was covered with pages and half-written books. That was all Ivy could see from the doorway, and given the impossible location of the room, she wasn’t going to venture any farther with the toddler in her arms.
“Auntie Ether!” she called.
“I am looking for a short tale. Myranda seems to have stocked this place with tales that will take hours to read,” Ether called.
“Auntie Ether, we need your help right now!”
To Ether’s credit, the tone in Ivy’s voice was enough to summon her to their side in the time it took for a gust of wind to rush down the hallway. She hung in the air beside them, swirling in place with a piercing glow for eyes. The eyes narrowed as she observed the impossible room before them.
“What is this…” Ether said.
“I don’t know, probably just a Deacon thing, but I’m not taking chances there’s anything awful and magical going on. The D’Karon had things under this palace for a while, and even though they rebuilt it, there’s no telling—”
Ether raised her hand to silence Ivy. The wind tightened and intensified until she shifted to stone. Her heavy, thumping footsteps took her through the doorway. The shapeshifter surveyed the contents of the room while Ivy struggled to keep a very squirmy Leo from slipping free.
“It is nothing. The only spells in place are those that allow the room to exist and for the gems to glow.”
“So it’s safe?”
“As safe as any other library.”
Ivy gingerly stepped inside. Ether’s assessment seemed sound. Ignoring its location and well-hidden entrance, the room looked to be nothing more than a small study.
“I guess Deacon made a little cozy place for him to be alone with his work sometimes,” Ivy said.
“Stick!” Leo shouted.
Ivy looked to the ground. The boy was holding his hands out
for a stout painted stick.
“Not alone,” Ether said.
She snatched up the stick and presented it to Leo. He grabbed it and proceeded to bat playfully at Ether. Still in her stone form, the stick clacked harmlessly against her.
“Easy there. You don’t want to hurt Auntie Ether. When she’s human, that’d hurt her.”
“Book!” Leo said, now waving his stick in an ostensibly less violent way. He still managed to thump Ivy squarely on the head.
She pushed the stick aside and set him down. The books he was reaching for were like any of the others that utterly surrounded Deacon in his daily life. Ether selected one. Leo immediately settled down. He clutched his stick in both hands and waited patiently.
“It would appear he wants to hear from these books,” Ether said.
“Deacon doesn’t read him bedtime stories from spell books, does he?” Ivy nuzzled Leo’s cheek with her nose. “That seems like something your daddy would do.”
“This is a memoir. A transcription from the book he was forever scratching away at,” Ether observed.
“Book!” Leo encouraged.
“I don’t know if you should read it. That’s probably pretty private.”
“Deacon has seldom indicated anything resembling personal boundaries or shame regarding his life. And the boy has plainly been read to from these books.”
“I suppose…” She hugged Leo a little tighter and flopped onto the floor. “Even so, I should listen for a while, just to make sure it’s the right sort of story for him to be hearing.”
Ether opened the book to a page marked by a blue ribbon. “‘Myranda did not so much as stir until midday, when I reluctantly woke her and informed her that the ceremony would be starting soon. When she left her hut, there was a feeling of anticipation permeating the village. People rushed to and fro. I led her to the courtyard where the elder’s hut had been. It was now entirely missing, and in its place, there was a rectangular marble altar…’”
#
Desmeres grazed his false hand along the wall as they crested a slope in the cave. “The feeling is almost gone in my replacement fingers. I’m surprised the hand still works,” he said.
The Coin of Kenvard Page 9
