The Sleeping Life (Eferum Book 2)

by Andrea K Höst

  "I can't guarantee you that what Samarin suggested isn't true," she said. "But I consider it extremely unlikely. And I don't have a method for measuring feelings and deciding whether they are real. You can only choose how to react to them."

  Leaving the girl to chew that over, Rennyn walked back to her bedroom, where Illidian sat cross-legged on the floor, finishing up some maintenance stitching on the leather-reinforced clothing he wore when expecting combat.

  Settling in a chair next to him, Rennyn had no qualms re-establishing her minor silence and repeating Samarin's words, finishing up with: "I recognised that the Dezart's purpose in trailing us about was primarily to evaluate the Kellian as a potential asset for the Empire. I didn't realise he might consider such a small group of people a threat."

  Illidian, who had set aside his mending, said: "A small group of people commanded by one of the most powerful mages in existence? Or, if he actually credits that theory, a group of people who have bewitched such a mage."

  "I'm not sure such a thing could even work on me. Not as current head of the Surclere family. It would go against everything Solace intended of that casting to have her heirs in thrall to her bodyguards. I wish I could have heard Samarin directly, to have a better idea of how seriously he took this theory."

  "The idea of breeding for magic resistance is new, but it's far from the first time we have been accused of unnatural influence. It's the primary theme of Earl Harkness' campaign."

  Illidian's thin voice was entirely calm, but Rennyn had been learning the man she had so hastily married, and could read the slight shifts in his posture. He disliked this suggestion of the Kolan Dezart's extremely.

  "Would you prefer to not allow Samarin near Aurai's Rest?"

  Since their purpose in visiting the forest settlement was both a point of great sensitivity to the Kellian, and the only thing that had so far caused significant strain between Rennyn and Illidian, she was not at all surprised when he raised an equivocal hand, and said: "I have yet to form a suitable plan to keep him—or a replacement—away. And the Rest itself is no secret."

  Rennyn reached out and brushed her fingertips along the side of the hand he had raised. "Perhaps he could sleep through the visit?" she said, with a smile.

  "That is tempting." He sat looking up at her, grave. To enspell someone out of convenience walked the near edge of what could be considered justified.

  "We will see what happens, then," she said, putting off the problem of Rhael Samarin, just as they had postponed the question of whether she should end the lingering life of the original Kellian.

  But the answer—and the consequences—would have to be faced. All too soon.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Illidian turned his head, listening. Then he rose, and held his hands down to her. "Sarana's group has arrived."

  They emerged into the hall at the same time as Sukata, who had clearly heard as well—a neat demonstration of why a silence casting was necessary for a truly private conversation in a Kellian household. The girl's habitual lack of expression did not hide her excitement, for she was near to bouncing as she headed for the stair.

  Sukata had come from Kendall's room, and the shorter girl followed along behind, wearing a consciously blank face. Having now a better understanding of what had so disturbed Kendall, Rennyn was fairly certain that whatever overtures Sukata had made had been received with a determination to pretend that nothing whatsoever was wrong—and that Sukata was probably convinced that her own display of temperament was at fault.

  Illidian checked as they reached the head of the stair, then leaned down to murmur to Rennyn: "A deputation from Aurai's Rest has come to meet us, and joined them on the road."

  There was relief, and just a note of amusement to his words, and Rennyn blinked up at him, then looked down at the crowd. From this angle, a single stranger came to her eye, but it took only a moment to trace a strong resemblance and translate Illidian's observation into: 'My mother is here.'

  Darian Faille. Rennyn knew her to be highly respected among the Kellian, and also strongly of the opinion that it was a mistake to live among humans. But since the Kellian were extremely disinclined to force personal opinion on others, she could not be regarded as a leader of a faction against serving as Sentene in Tyrland, but rather simply someone who chose not to do so herself.

  Since Kellian were by nature unsmiling, Rennyn was unsurprised when Illidian's introduction produced only a handshake and a moment of direct study. Sukata provided contrast, first hugging her mother and then a second newcomer, a slender girl not quite her own height.

  This last prompted Rennyn to look about for Kendall, spotting her sitting almost out of view at the top of the stair. The new arrivals had come at a bad moment, but not seeing anything to be done about it, Rennyn returned her attention to the crowd, and was introduced to the Kellian girl, Tesin Asaka, pretending not to notice the girl's patent wariness whenever she spoke. At least these two removed the lingering concern that her Wicked Uncle was off attacking Aurai's Rest.

  Five Sentene pairs had formed Sarana's party, and Rennyn's hired Kolan servants, though told days ago to prepare for the main arrival, took a flustered and overwhelmed attitude toward the task of adding an extra two to this number. Rennyn sorted mentally through the room arrangements, made a quiet suggestion, and then went to sit in her capacious parlour, knowing that Illidian would effortlessly ensure confusion became order.

  The arrival of the rest of the expedition brought forward the item on the journey's itinerary that Rennyn particularly didn't want to face, and she wished they'd caught some nearer trace of her Wicked Uncle, so they could put off the visit to Aurai's Rest. Giving the survivors of the original Ten Kellian a choice about their future might be both right and necessary, but her own discomfort at her role was compounded by the impact it would have on Illidian.

  All of the Kellian struggled not to shrink from what she represented. Killing the Ten, no matter how kindly, was not going to improve Rennyn's relationship with the Kellian descendants. Nor Illidian, even though he had raised the possibility in the first place. How could it not place another pressure, another strain on their marriage?

  That wasn't each broaching the question of the impact of the death of the original golems on Solace's casting was something she could not approach with any measure of pragmatism. Would it be easier for the Kellian if the enchantment was broken, and they became a more ordinary sort of people? Would their personalities change?

  Who would she be married to?

  This vexed thought was interrupted by movement at the half-open door, and the arrival of a determinedly-brisk Kendall with a tray.

  "Hope you're not planning to keep these numb-suck servants on," the girl said. "They're as useless as a shed-full of hens after you've said 'boo'."

  "It is unfortunate that we arrested a person who seems to have been the mainstay of the household," Rennyn agreed, looking over the tray with interest. "But these are only a temporary engagement. Whoever makes these nut cakes can stay—I don't care about the rest of them. It's a bit complicated, since I don't know how long we'll be away."

  "You're not going to pay them to kick their heels here while we go north?"

  "Perhaps a partial staff. Leaving it unoccupied strikes me as unwise."

  "Leave the Pest behind to lord it over them. He can finish cataloguing your library." Kendall's eyes narrowed, and Rennyn realised her own expression must have changed. "Finally sorry you brought him along?"

  "I don't think it would be very safe to leave any of our group alone," Rennyn said. "We haven't managed to be very quiet on this trip."

  "You think That Monster might have heard?"

  "All too likely," Rennyn said, looking up as Illidian came into the room, escorting his mother and Sarana Illuma. "Though I admit to a tendency to see my Wicked Uncle in every shadow, to blame him for encounters with Eferum-Get, and suspect him of taking to kidnapping mages."

  "Kidnapping?" Sarana said, nodding
acceptance when Rennyn held up an empty cup.

  While Rennyn poured tea, Illidian gave Kendall a glance that sent the girl reluctantly from the room, then briefly recounted the Emperor's warning.

  "You believe this Helecho Montjuste-Surclere to be responsible for the disappearances?" Darian Faille asked.

  "I believe that…it is not wise to underestimate my Wicked Uncle," Rennyn said. "A mage born in the Eferum, a blood-drinker, and inventive. He is capable of posing an enormous threat, and it seems to me that these disappearances constitute the loss of Kole's strongest defenders."

  "A prelude to an Eferum-Get invasion?" Sarana said, and almost visibly began to plan defences and counter-attacks.

  "Would you know Prince Helecho if he changed his appearance?" Illidian asked, accepting a cup of tea.

  Rennyn, turning this over, abruptly remembered Kendall, in an exaggerated imitation of Rhael Samarin's amused confidence, saying: "I expect I'm even younger than you think." Rennyn had repeated that to Illidian and he must be thinking of it in connection to her Wicked Uncle, whose age was a somewhat uncertain matter thanks to the time-distorting nature of the Eferum. She met his eyes, startled, then said:

  "No, not necessarily. An illusion I would spot, but features can be altered in the same way a wound is healed, and there would be no trace of that once the initial casting was done. But I'd certainly notice an inability to go outside during the day. I suppose it's possible that my Wicked Uncle will eventually adapt to this world and become more tolerant of sunlight, but I'd be astonished if he had already reached the point where it was not fatal to him."

  Still, making himself part of their expedition was the sort of thing Rennyn suspected her uncle would find highly entertaining. Nor should she dismiss the chance that he had found a way to tolerate sunlight, just because she did not think it possible.

  "I will ask Lieutenant Meniar to cast the divination more frequently. And think on a shorter-range casting looking specifically for my Wicked Uncle, in case he has abandoned my focus." She could not suppress a faint grimace, since she would not at all like to use the one tangible symbol of him she had at hand. But she refused to shy away from any of the unpleasant necessities in store from her, so let out her breath slowly, then said to Sarana: "When do you want to leave?"

  oOo

  "I value my life too much to suggest it in the hearing of the Imperial Guard, but this is by far the most well-defended household in Koletor."

  Blinking her way out of a light doze, Rennyn frowned at Rhael Samarin, framed in the parlour doorway by two of the recently arrived Sentene: Mede Lankor and her mage partner, Rundl Hynes, clearly entertaining doubts about letting Samarin near her.

  "Would you like us to stay, Your Grace?" Rundl asked.

  "No, but thank you," Rennyn said, adding a reassuring smile and hiding her annoyance that two tiny silence castings had made her miss the conclusion of the discussion about the proposed journey north. Illidian must have taken his mother and Sarana upstairs.

  "I think this is the first time I've seen you alone," Samarin said, sitting down and studying her with all his usual self-possession.

  Rennyn rubbed her eyes before looking him over in turn. She had been half-expecting a private conversation with Illidian's mother—had had a strong impression that there was something Darian wanted to say to her—but she should perhaps be less surprised that Darian Faille, with typical Kellian reticence, had let her be.

  "It provides a good opportunity to have words on the subject of teasing my students," she said to Samarin, and was surprised when his faint near-constant smile faded, and he responded gravely.

  "Yes, I misjudged there. Instead of minor mischief, a heart's blow. I am sorry for that, though it does not make the question any less valid."

  "You take the idea seriously?"

  "I take a great many things seriously. You don't feel the possibility is worth consideration?"

  "I don't see anything in the spell construction, and if there's any active enchantment of that sort, it's one beyond my ability to detect."

  Mindful of Mede Lankor posted just outside the room, Rennyn did not go into the subject further, and asked Samarin, instead, if he had any further information on the disappearances.

  "Verisia has missed a mage as well," Samarin said, promptly. "You know of Thyla Hettan?"

  "Specialised in mage-wrought bridges?"

  "Gone a little under a fortnight ago. The report did not detail whether she was wearing her focus at the time, but I've confirmed that the Kolan mages all were. It is not necessarily an important factor, since it's rare to find a powerful mage not wearing a focus, but a point worth noting."

  "Does your Emperor wear a focus?"

  A tiny pause, and then Samarin nodded.

  Rennyn thought about all the things her inventive Wicked Uncle might do, then said: "Would you be able to tell if Corusar had been replaced? I don't mean the old stories about how he died long ago, and his voice is simply mimicked by hidden Court officials. I mean replaced."

  Samarin's wide mouth twitched, but then he went still, and a frown grew on his youthful face.

  "I am quite certain he has not been," he said, at last. "As are you, I think, because your sensitivity to worked magic is said to be acute, so it must have been apparent to you that the throne room enchantments have been in place for a very long time. If something occurred while I made an interesting trip into the northern forests, I suspect my discovery of any substitution would be shortly followed by my swift removal from play."

  "Could a replacement be achieved without the Court's notice?"

  Samarin raised an equivocal hand. "It would take someone of your calibre, but with rather more knowledge of Kole, and extended access. The problem would be that the next powerful mage who sought audience would surely notice the re-set enchantments, especially if they had visited before. And it would be noticed if all the greater mages were suddenly refused audience."

  "Unless they had all vanished."

  He nodded, but then made a dismissive gesture. "If someone were to try to take Kole's throne, I would be astonished if they did so by assuming the Emperor's Preservation. Few have a taste for such a…rigid definition of immortality."

  "No. I am surprised…" she began, and stopped.

  Her Imperial audience had been conducted both without notice, and with disconcerting efficiency. Tired and headachy, Rennyn had not given the enchantments surrounding Corusar the attention she would in more propitious circumstances. Glancing back at the Dezart, she found him relaxed but watching her steadily. She knew little about this young man, but the one thing his title made clear was the Emperor's trust. The confidence of a barely-human Emperor whose rule had long been sustained by a casting that surely must be wearing thin.

  Was it missing mages, the Kellian, or something else that had seen Samarin joined to her entourage?

  "I loathe politics," she said, with a sigh. "But I have a great interest in magic. I hope I can assist the Emperor with the problem you are investigating without becoming too entangled in matters that don't concern me."

  Rennyn stood up, and Samarin rose politely as well, and paused as she dealt with the dizziness that standing often chose to inflict on her.

  "Some problems have a way of tangling even the most disinterested," he said, and offered her his arm.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Four days in coaches had taken them far into northern Kole, among the small settlements on the edge of the great forest of Semarrak. Smooth Imperial roads gave way to narrow lanes, and Duchess Surclere and her escort were finally obliged to switch to horses to approach the forest itself. Fallon enjoyed the riding well enough, but found himself firmly wishing they were still in the coaches, where Kendall had been safely sectioned off from Dezart Samarin.

  Kendall Stockton was undoubtedly the most cross-grained girl he had ever met, but Fallon had felt sorry she had been so hurt or frightened or whatever had made her spend the past week barely talking. Most of the morni
ng she had continued to hold her tongue, contenting herself with glaring at the Dezart whenever he strayed too close. But after they had set out again following midday break, she waited until the Dezart's horse came alongside hers, then said:

  "Why is this Emperor of yours so convinced that only he can look after Kole?"

  They were not travelling with the full group—the majority of the Sentene had gone ahead at a faster pace—but Fallon was singularly aware of almost everyone around him suppressing a reaction to the clear intention to attack in Kendall's tone. Not that Dezart Samarin seemed bothered by the question. Fallon, riding behind Kendall's roan, could only glimpse the man's profile, but thought he looked pleased.

  "Does the Emperor strike you as conceited?" the Dezart asked. "The Empire was in turmoil at the time of his ascension, you know, and assassination attempts almost inevitable. After the legitimate heirs of the Tashant line fell in the Tysian War, there were many near-equal claimants to the Lion Throne, and the order of inheritance much disputed. Kole proclaimed nearly a dozen Emperors and Empresses in as many years—every precaution failing to protect them. After so much uncertainty, the Preservation was considered a triumph."

  "But why be Emperor at all? He can't have wanted to make himself into a statue. To not ever eat or sleep or have any fun. Rennyn said he can't even take it off, without dying."

  Duchess Surclere, riding double with Captain Faille, glanced back, then nodded.

  "Very unlikely to survive the removal, at any rate," she said, without any hint in her tone that Kendall shouldn't be asking such things of the Emperor's personal representative. Duchess Surclere really was extraordinarily tolerant of Kendall's cheek.

  But Dezart Samarin didn't seem to mind either. "I think you'd find the Lion Throne is difficult to run away from."

  "If he's so fancy a mage as to think up that lobster shell thing, that means he's a deviser, right? You're not going to tell me that he couldn't find some way to make it look like he died, so someone else was stuck with being Emperor?"