“Don’t worry about that at all. The trip across Jumelle isn’t exactly arduous, and I got to see this beautiful art and meet the artist. That is not wasted time in my opinion.” Corentin’s words were smooth, and there was a flash of his usual charm in his smile, though he was subdued after the news of the kidnapping.
“Thank you for saying so.”
Corentin shook his head and waved away Etan’s concern. “We’ll have lunch another time, when Master Tristan’s family is home safe. And please let me know that all is well when they’re found. I’ll be thinking of them until then.”
“Thank you,” Tristan said, speaking for the first time since they entered the room.
“May I ask… how did they go missing? Did they get lost somewhere?” Corentin asked.
A flash of pain rippled across Tristan’s face, there and then gone, but Etan saw it, and he put a hand on Tristan’s back in support. “They didn’t become lost. They were taken. My sister had my baby daughter with her, and they were kidnapped off the street.”
They were all silent for a few long moments. Corentin seemed to be struck speechless at Tristan’s blunt words, but he found his voice finally. “So you have no idea where they could be. How are you searching for them?”
“The captain of the royal guard is very experienced,” Etan said, answering for Tristan who seemed a little stunned by Corentin’s blunt words in return. “He’s leading the search and already has some indication of what happened to them. He has a sorcerer helping as well. Savarin is quite powerful and believes he has a spell that can help find them. He’s performing it now.”
Corentin nodded. “It sounds as if you’re in good hands. Perhaps I can help too, if you’ll permit me.”
Etan glanced at Tristan and Flavian, who watched the exchange quietly. Tristan said, “Thank you for your offer, but Captain Loriot is best qualified to find them, and we’re trusting him to do so.”
“I would never insult the capabilities of your Captain Loriot, but I thought I might be able to help point him the direction of where to look for her.”
“How would you do that?” How could Corentin do that? Etan couldn’t see how it was possible for Corentin to do so, unless Corentin knew something about where Bria had been taken. But that couldn’t be possible, could it?
“Magic,” Corentin said simply.
“Master Savarin is using magic already. He has a spell he says may be able to locate them,” Tristan said.
“Not all spells are the same. I may be able to do something else that would help. I can’t make promises, but I would like to help if I can. I don’t like the thought of a young woman and a baby in danger.”
Etan looked at Tristan, who was watching Corentin as if weighing his words and sincerity. Whatever confusion and nebulous suspicions swirled through Etan’s head, the decision belonged to Tristan.
“I won’t turn down anything that might help us find them,” Tristan said. “Thank you.”
“Don’t, not yet. Not until we’ve seen if my help amounts to anything,” Corentin said.
“Well, I’m grateful for your offer no matter what comes of it.”
Corentin nodded. “All right, let’s see if I can find anything for you.”
“What do you need? For the spell?” Etan prompted when Corentin looked at him.
“I need a map of Jumelle, and I need Master Tristan’s presence during.”
Etan didn’t ask questions despite his curiosity. “I have a map in my office. Where would you like to perform this spell?”
“Your office is fine, or wherever is most convenient for you. I don’t need any particular place.”
Etan led them out of the room and through the corridors to his office. Cathal wasn’t there, for which Etan was grateful. He didn’t feel the need to explain to Cathal what they were about to do. Cathal probably wouldn’t stop them, but certainly he would want them to wait, perhaps to send for Captain Loriot or Savarin before they allowed someone to perform a spell in the middle of the royal palace. He wondered himself if they should wait for Savarin or Captain Loriot, or at least inform Philip of what they were doing. Etan had no idea what this spell consisted of or could do.
He knew Corentin well enough—as a fellow scholar and a friendly acquaintance, perhaps with the potential to become a friend one day—but he hadn’t known him long, not long enough to trust him implicitly. But if Corentin could help them find Bria, and save Tristan more pain and fear, Etan had to let him. No matter what unease he might feel.
He retrieved a map of the city, one with the districts and streets marked clearly, from a cabinet against the wall, unrolled it, and laid it out on the table. Flavian held two of the corners until Etan could place candlesticks to hold them down and keep the map from rolling up again. Corentin had only required Tristan’s presence but neither Etan nor Flavian made any move to leave them alone. Etan wasn’t planning on going anywhere; he would be here for Tristan and to see what this spell entailed, and he had a feeling Flavian planned to do the same.
Corentin stepped up to the table and studied the map. “That will do perfectly. Thank you.”
“Now what?” Tristan asked.
“Now, give me your hand.” Corentin held out a hand for Tristan’s, smiling and nodding when Tristan slowly placed his hand in Corentin’s. “If you could all be quiet while I try to use the magic.”
They all nodded, and Corentin thanked them before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, then another. Etan watched him closely, aware that Flavian was doing the same. Across the table, next to Corentin, Tristan stood wide-eyed, his gaze darting between Corentin, the map, and Etan and Flavian. Corentin’s lips moved, but Etan didn’t hear him speaking and he couldn’t read lips. He glanced at Flavian, wanting to ask if he could because for some reason it seemed like a skill Flavian should have, but Flavian was watching Corentin with unwavering attention, his brow furrowed. Etan left him to whatever he was thinking.
For a while, nothing happened, but then Etan noticed the hum of magic building in the air. He had no idea what Corentin was doing, what was about to happen, but something obviously was. The intensity of the power built until all the hair on Etan’s body was standing on end, and Flavian was shifting uncomfortably beside him. Tristan had gone white as a sheet next to Corentin, and Etan’s heart kicked in his chest. He moved, intending to pull Tristan away or make Corentin stop whatever he was doing, but Tristan shook his head. Tristan’s eyes held reassurance but no pain or real fear, so Etan subsided. For the moment.
But a moment, maybe two, was all he had to wait. Corentin’s eyes flew open, the violet burning bright. Were his eyes glowing? No, it had to be a trick of the light and Etan’s imagination. Corentin looked down at the map in front of him and lifted a hand. A slender line of fire leaped from his fingertips and streamed toward the map. The fire circled an area of the city. Etan winced as his ears popped, but he didn’t take his eyes off the fire, burning brightly for a moment and then dying away, leaving a stark line of burnt black surrounding the location.
At the same time, the magic died away to nothing, as if it had never been. Corentin dropped Tristan’s hand and sagged against the table. Etan spared him a glance but focused on Tristan. To his relief, some color was coming back into Tristan’s face.
“Are you all right?” Flavian asked Corentin.
“Fine, fine,” Corentin said as he straightened, though he sounded somewhat winded. “I’m just tired. It’s not easy magic. Your sister and daughter are somewhere within that area.”
Etan looked down at the map on the table. He reached out and traced the line on the map. He’d expected it to feel hot to the touch, but it was cool, its temperature no different from that of the rest of the paper. The black line was burnt into the map, though, outlining part of the city close to the port. The line followed the streets on the map, making for an oddly shaped area.
“They’re there?” Tristan asked.
“How do you know?” Etan asked almost at the same time
. “What kind of spell did you just do?”
Corentin looked at each of them in turn as if weighing what he should say next, or if he should speak, but Etan wouldn’t let him get away with staying silent. Before Etan could prod him to answer their questions, he began. “Yes, they’re in that area. Master Tristan has a Talent for fire—”
“How did you know that?” Tristan demanded. Etan wanted to touch him, but he was too far to reach.
“I could sense it. I’m of fire too.” Corentin seemed to sense their skepticism, and he lifted a hand palm up. His brow furrowed, and flames burning orange tinged with blue and purple appeared in the air above his palm. Etan couldn’t bite back a gasp. He’d never seen anything like it, not from anyone else with a Talent for fire and light. He glanced at Tristan and found him staring wide-eyed at Corentin as well.
“What does that mean? And how are you doing that? I have a fire Talent and I can’t do that,” Tristan finally said.
Corentin let the fire wink out and lowered his hand. “All Talents are different. Mine allows me to do this, and also to sense others with fire Talents. That’s how I knew you had one, and that’s how I looked for your daughter.”
“I still don’t understand,” Flavian said, and Etan was glad he did because he was confused himself.
Corentin spared Flavian a glance but seemed to be directing his attention to Tristan more than any of them. “You have a fire Talent, and your daughter came from you. She’ll have at least the potential for that Talent in her. I used magic and the connection to you to look for her. If she had a full-fledged Talent or if I knew her personally, I might have been able to find her location more precisely, but even then I can’t be certain. Jumelle is a large city, and there are many with fire Talents in it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more precise, but I hope this helps you.”
“Is this the same thing Master Savarin is doing?” Tristan asked, taking his eyes from Corentin and looking over at Etan and Flavian.
Corentin shrugged. “I can’t tell you that, but I would guess not, if he doesn’t have the same Talent I do. All Talents are different, and his spells for locating people are most likely quite different from mine.”
Etan watched Corentin. He had no idea why his suspicions were raised by everything Corentin said today. His curiosity was surging to the forefront as well—he wanted to know what made Corentin’s Talent so different—but that was a scholarly response, that thirst for knowledge and information. The suspicion told him Corentin wasn’t telling them everything.
“Captain Loriot and Savarin should know about this.” Flavian gestured at the map.
“Yes. Didn’t Savarin say that having the area narrowed down could help him find them?” Tristan asked.
“He did.” Etan kept watching Corentin, trying to weigh his trustworthiness. He would have said they were on their way to a friendship; he didn’t want to distrust Corentin. His offer of help, his ability to so easily narrow the area of the search, just seemed too good to be true.
“Then we need to tell him. Now. In case this could help him,” Tristan said.
Etan put his misgivings aside for the moment and nodded. “Yes, we need to pass this information on.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Corentin said.
“Thank you for your help, Master Corentin. I appreciate it more than you know,” Tristan said, clasping Corentin’s hand.
“Think nothing of it. I only did what anyone would if they were able. I hope the information helps. Please let me know when they’re found.”
“Of course,” Etan said, softening at the obvious concern in Corentin’s voice. Corentin had said he had a sister. Perhaps he was just trying to help. Etan shouldn’t think ill of him for that. “I’ll send word once they’re home.”
He summoned a servant who escorted Corentin from the room and would lead him back out of the palace. When the door closed behind Corentin, he looked at Tristan and Flavian. Tristan was alive with impatience, but Flavian’s expression was more cautious.
“We need to get this information to Captain Loriot and Master Savarin,” Tristan said. “As quickly as possible.”
“We should inform Philip and Amory as well. And Cathal,” Flavian added.
Etan nodded, acknowledging both suggestions. “Yes, they need to know. Let me write notes to Captain Loriot and Savarin, and we’ll have guards carry them and the map into the city. Savarin will be performing the spell in his workroom at his home most likely. It’s where he prefers to work.”
“I’ll write one for you,” Flavian said, taking a seat at Cathal’s desk and pulling out paper and ink. “Faster that way, and then the map will be on its way to Savarin, and we can go talk to Philip, Amory, and Cathal.”
“Thank you.” They wrote the notes quickly and exchanged them for a brief read to make sure they’d each included everything necessary. Then Etan entrusted the notes and the map to two guardsmen to be delivered to Captain Loriot and Savarin immediately. He’d considered sending the map to Captain Loriot as well and letting him pass it on to Savarin, but ultimately he knew the information could help Savarin find Bria, and he couldn’t delay sending it because of his nebulous worries.
They left the office as soon as the guardsmen departed, walking toward Philip and Amory’s suite. Flavian was absolutely right that Philip, Amory, and Cathal needed to know what had happened with Corentin, both to keep them informed and because Etan wondered if anyone else would share his suspicions. He wondered if Flavian already did. But then Flavian wasn’t always the most trusting person. With good reason, but nevertheless.
A servant intercepted them to tell them lunch was waiting in the princes’ suite. Etan thanked him, and they continued on their way, hurrying their steps now that they knew Philip, Amory, and Cathal were waiting for them. Donatien let them into the suite, telling them lunch had been served in the dining room before he left.
When the three of them walked into the suite’s small dining room, Philip, Amory, and Cathal were already there, sitting at the round table in the center of the room with full plates in front of them and talking quietly. Philip gestured for them to make up plates for themselves from the food laid out on the sideboard and sit.
Flavian quickly did so and claimed a chair next to Cathal, who poured him a glass of wine. Tristan lingered longer at the sideboard, finally taking small portions of everything. Such small portions Etan doubted a child could survive on them let alone a grown man. He took Tristan’s arm, holding his plate steady, and added more food to it.
Tristan glared at him, but Etan just shook his head and kept serving Tristan. “I know you’re not hungry but you need to eat.”
When he released Tristan’s arm, Tristan stalked to the table and took the seat next to Amory. For a moment, Etan wondered if Tristan would have taken a seat without an empty chair next to it if one were available to avoid sitting next to Etan. He didn’t know how angry Tristan was with him. He supposed he’d find out.
He wasn’t hungry himself, but after forcing food on Tristan, he wasn’t going to be able to get away with eating nothing himself. He filled his plate and took it to the table, seating himself between Tristan and Flavian. Someone had filled his wine glass, and he took a long sip as Tristan asked, “Is there any word yet?”
Amory shook his head. “Nothing new. We would’ve told you immediately if there was.”
“We actually have something to report,” Flavian said.
“Oh? What happened?” Cathal asked.
“I thought you were leaving this to Loriot and Savarin,” Philip said, frowning.
“We were. We are. Something fell into our laps, you could say, without our looking for it.” Etan explained everything that happened with Corentin, answering questions that Cathal, Philip, and Amory asked throughout his recitation. Flavian added his observations, but Tristan remained silent, pushing the food around on his plate more than eating it.
“You’ve mentioned Corentin before,” Philip said after Etan finished his story. Out of th
e corner of his eye, Etan saw Tristan glance at him sharply. “Do you trust him?”
“I respect him as a scholar. I find his work interesting. I find him interesting and charming. I don’t know him well, but I have no reason not to trust him.”
“But you had some suspicions—something struck you as not right,” Cathal said. “I can tell, just from the way you told us what happened.”
“Did you?” Tristan asked. “You didn’t say anything.”
And he didn’t want to say anything now, not if what he said would upset Tristan more or take away the hope he had gained from Corentin. “Because there wasn’t anything solid to make me suspicious. Perhaps it was more that what happened, that Corentin was there, that he could help and offered to do so, seemed too good to be true.” Etan shook his head. “Don’t listen to me. It’s possible I’m just afraid to hope right now.”
He wasn’t sure Philip accepted his explanation, but Tristan subsided, even rested a hand on Etan’s leg. The warm weight of it comforted Etan.
Philip nodded. “All right. We’ll leave it in Loriot and Savarin’s hands. They’ll know best what to do with the information Corentin gave you.”
“They’ll use it, though? They will use what Corentin found? They won’t just ignore it because they don’t know him?” Tristan asked. Etan covered the hand Tristan had on his thigh with one of his own at the raw emotion he heard in Tristan’s words.
“Of course they’ll use it,” Amory said.
“I’m sure they will. Not to the exclusion of all other paths of investigation they’ve been following,” Philip said, elaborating on Amory’s assurance. “I would be surprised if Captain Loriot didn’t explore every possibility. He and Savarin will take this new information into account, and we can hope it will lead them to Bria.”
“I hope so,” Tristan said.
Tristan’s words, how lost they sounded, hit Etan like a punch in the gut. He twined his fingers with Tristan’s and squeezed his hand, trying to anchor him here with Etan, trying to keep him from getting lost in fear.
“Hold on to hope, Tris,” Amory said from Tristan’s other side as he put a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “We know more now than we did before. Loriot and Savarin will use Corentin’s information too. They’re not going to stop looking for Bria.”
The Scholar's Heart (Chronicles of Tournai Book 3) Page 28
