Human Mage: Book Three of the Highmage's Plight

by D. H. Aire

  Sianhiel nodded, his gaze misting with tears as he laid a sympathetic hand on Aaprin’s shoulder. “It must have been terrible for you. You had no choice but to run, but you’re among friends… your own kind, now.”

  The lad winced.

  “You will both come with me,” Sianhiel averred, “and we shall see everything made right.”

  Lucian shook his head, “I go nowhere without the girl.”

  “Kinsman, did you learn nothing after once marrying a human?” Sianhiel rasped, then shook his head at Lucian’s forbidding look. “Fine, she comes with us.”

  “Actually,” a voice said behind them, “you’ll all be coming with us.”

  Sianhiel raised his hands, then gaped up to the upper tier and stared at the dozens of oddly dressed elves looking down at them. “Faeryn,” Sianhiel hissed. “We seek none of your interference.”

  “You stand within a Temple of Unity and expect us not to intervene?” Master Abernathy laughed.

  Revit and Terus half hidden behind his robes as they cautiously peered down at the pale and frightened looking Aaprin. “I seek justice!” Sianhiel demanded. “The Temple cannot bar us!”

  “Agreed,” Abernathy replied. “So it should be quite satisfactory for us to accompany you to the Empress. After all, we would like nothing untoward to happen to the lad and his family.”

  Sianhiel frowned musingly, then his eyes brightened, “Yes, perhaps, that would be best. Join us then, Cousins. But where you are dwarves never appear far away. Keep their ilk out of our way… and Lucian’s girlfriend comes as well, though, I need this complication not at all.”

  Abernathy nodded, “As you will. Fitzgerald, see that our escort does not disturb our, uh, allies. Gavin, your group is to remain. We wish to see that peace returns to the

  Temple.”

  “Aye, Master,” they chorused, while fully a dozen Faeryn mages dressed in no elvin finery or demonstrable wealth waited, tense and expectant, as Lord Sianhiel’s elvin kin ushered those now in their charge toward the main doors.

  As Sianhiel passed Gallen, he grabbed the urchin’s arm, “You will come with us as well. You know entirely too much for my comfort.”

  Gallen swallowed as he was half dragged from the temple with only a quick backward glance at the old priest. Sianhiel likely would not have felt comforted by the fact that Father Tem had a difficult time containing his delight by that addition to the party. Gallen’s resources were practically legendary across the Seventh Tier; although, few other than Tem and the city urchins truly credited it.

  The illusion of the multitude of Faeryn mages in the upper Tiers faded, leaving a single journeyman mage, who nodded respectively, as Father Tem looked out the window. He watched the strange procession commandeer every available horse and coach on the street and saw Lucian, Aaprin, the girl, and Gallen board.

  He shook his head as he watched them hasten up the Tier. “Well, there they go.”

  “I hope this means I’ve time for a proper wedding dress,” Irin said, coming up behind him.

  The silver haired priest grinned, “Lucian will be back, Irin. With a proper wedding ring, if I’m any judge.”

  “As long as he doesn’t put it on that strange girl’s finger.” The young woman frowned, hugging her ignominiously draped blanket more tightly around her. She wished the black haired changeling good luck impersonating her, better the itchy cassock on her, anyway.

  “I most sincerely doubt that, my dear.”

  “Majesty, I must protest!”

  “As you will, Lowell, but continue to make wait Grendel, Archmage Kolter, and whoever else of their irksome ilk seeks me out. I grow tired of listening to their ravings. The human mage is my chosen investigator— and had no part in any conspiracy that murdered Senason!”

  The gray haired herald nodded, “How can you still be so certain? He’s a mage, though, how a human could be is beyond imaging. He could have arranged the murder while being by your side— or left an illusion that he was with you.”

  “Enough,” she muttered half-heartedly.

  “And as yet what has he learned? Nothing of consequence, a tunnel and the claim that the murder was not mundane but wrought through elvin magery.”

  She turned from him as she heard the shouts outside the window. Looking out despairingly, she stared. “Perhaps, I shall soon learn the truth.”

  Elves dismounted from the coaches as the Imperial guards cordoned off the space around them. Sianhiel ungently jostled the urchin lad, Gallen, to keep him ascending, while his elvin cohorts, acting as wary escort, hastened the assorted group up the steps. The Imperial Guards were less than pleased by their being prevented approach to the nervous seeming Lucian and Aaprin. The black haired girl, Raven, looked about her curiously, yet never strayed from the pair.

  Pausing at the palace entryway, the Faeryn mages appeared at ease and unconcerned. Their manner the complete opposite of Lord Sianhiel’s minions, who Abernathy thought look quite comical in their efforts to keep the Imperial Guards away from the formerly missing apprentice— as if they would have in any way seen harm come to him.

  With a wry shake of his head, Abernathy glanced at his young charges. Revit and Terus, upon arriving at Court, had actually become quite polite. The majesty of the palace momentarily seemed to rob them of any thought of mischief.

  The Empress’s Herald strode through the archway. Lowell gazed at the ill assorted arrivals and his nose wrinkled at the smell of the urchin in their midst.

  Clearing his throat, the senior herald stated, “Lord Sianhiel, Archmage Abernathy, all of you,” fixing his gaze upon the trembling young elfblood, Aaprin, and gesturing at his father, “the Empress requires your attendance. Follow me.”

  Eyes wide with anxiety, Aaprin took his father’s good hand and proceeded through the entrance. Lucian ignored the splendor, concerned only with his son’s welfare.

  On the other hand, the urchin, Gallen, the black haired girl, and even Revit gazed about them wide-eyed at the paintings, tapestries, and sculptures adoring the corridors through which they trekked.

  Such opulence they had never seen.

  However, Terus was inexplicably unnerved. The very walls whispered to him, ‘Beware. Things were not as they seem.’

  Noticing Terus’s odd expression, Revit nudged him, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Terus muttered without certainty, which worried Revit no end. Explanations would have to wait. Their party had entered the Empress’s crowded antechamber.

  Abruptly, they faced Master Grendel and a small host of elfblooded mages. Those faces the younger mage apprentices did not recognize, but Aaprin certainly did. The Archmage Kolter of Heydan was here. The Lady Rowena and Herald Varian stood to the side. Aaprin lowered his gaze, not wanting to look at any of these others who had attended the Empress’s Ball.

  “Sianhiel?” Highmage Candidate Grendel murmured thoughtfully even as he noted Aaprin Summerfelt amid the strange troupe.

  The Archmage Kolter glared at the Faeryn master Abernathy, wondering at this turn of events. Abernathy actually smiled in response, irking the Haydenese mage.

  Lowell gestured with a nod to the guards, “This way.”

  Aaprin found himself nervously ushered into Empress’s presence. Trying to sound more reassuring, Lucian whispered to him, “Everything will be fine.”

  Part Nine:

  Mage on the Case

  1

  Grendel stared at the strange troupe even after the door shut, cutting off his view. At least Sianhiel had not looked happy about his sudden alliance with the Faeryn. Herald Lowell gestured to several of those in the antechamber to enter.

  The Empress frowned at the sight of the rag draped urchin bowing in her presence. The lad, at least, had the grace to edge back in embarrassment.

  With a cough, the Empress straightened and gestured at the frightened apprentice mage. “This is your errant apprentice?”

  George, standing at her side, replied, “This is Aaprin, Your M
ajesty… and I believe this belongs to you,” he added taking a scroll from his cloak and presenting it her. “It came into my possession through the Imperial Service.”

  The Empress unrolled it and blanched. She quickly glanced back him, “I thank you for its return.”

  Had it not been misplaced, events might have gone differently, he thought. “Your Majesty.”

  Everyone seemed to be staring at the interchange. For Sianhiel, the mere presence of the human mage and his black liveried Cathartan shadow was anathema. “Majesty, I must protest. He has no right to be here!”

  Aaprin swallowed nervously at the sight of his master, who studiously ignored the elflord’s rage. Se’and stood poised and patient, briefly meeting Aaprin’s gaze before glaring warily at the offensive elf.

  “Silence!” the Empress cried, rising from her seat. “My chief investigator has every right to be here. Only the grief we both share excuses your outburst.”

  Sianhiel flushed and bristled, but obeyed her will.

  Fearing no further interruption, she sat back down. “Know that Lord Je’orj has asked that I preside over questioning the lad… that no ill magery can be raised in this room. It has been most carefully warded against it. There shall be no tricks played here that might seek to obscure the truth still further. I will have answers to my questions.” Noting the rebellious look on Sianhiel’s face, she immediately added, “Or do you think I have no desire to find the murderer?”

  Grinding his teeth, Sianhiel bowed, “My pardon, Majesty.”

  “That is better. So, you found the missing apprentice, Sianhiel. What I would like, however, is an explanation of why I am presented with these others?”

  “Empress,” Sianhiel began, “Aaprin Summerfelt sought his father, Lucian…”

  Abernathy laughed, “Oh, don’t dawdle. Simply, Majesty, the Summerfelts had, inconveniently, for Sianhiel, taken sanctuary in the Temple of Unity. The rest of us came along to see that the shelter right was not broken further. Think of us as concerned observers.”

  “Shut up, Faeryn!” Sianhiel bitterly exclaimed. “You will not twist the truth! I brought the witness here to speak… your accompanying us simply prevented any further hindrance.”

  “Enough,” muttered the Empress, demanding decorum. “Come here, boy, be not afraid.”

  All eyes upon them, Aaprin and his father came forward, then knelt before the Empress of the Aqwaine Empire. Raven remained beside Abernathy and Sianhiel, her gaze taking in the whole room, wary and, though only a few knew it, dangerous.

  “Rise,” the Empress commanded. As Aaprin looked up at her, frightened, she asked, “Do you know who killed Lord Senason?”

  Uncertainly, the elfblood lad shook his head, “Your Majesty?”

  “Wait,” Lucian suddenly implored. “Majesty, I do not believe my son should speak here before so many.”

  “I will be present!” Sianhiel yelled.

  The Empress sat back and sighed, “I would have all of you witness... But, perhaps, such caution may be best. Sianhiel, Abernathy, Lord Je’orj and Lady Se’and, you remain. You others will leave us.” Revit was about to argue as the Faeryn archmage gestured for the two boys and the others to leave.

  Terus standing there, inexplicably fought back tears, then hastily grabbed Revit’s arm and pulled him from the room.

  Although, Sianhiel was less than pleased by the Empress’s order he shooed his elvin comrades out. However, he was quick to trap Gallen’s arm to forestall the urchin’s attempt at an exit. “You, treacherous one, will stay right here.”

  The aged herald bowed to the Empress. “I shall go with them to see they cause no trouble.”

  The Empress nodded. The guards waited the archmage’s passage, then began closing the doors firmly on the crowd without, which included Archmage Kolter, as Grendel fought his way through the throng and through the doorway just before they finished closing it. “Majesty, I respectfully demand audience.”

  “Who let him in? Very well, Grendel, but you shall merely observe or I shall expel you from the palace grounds!” Looking unhappy about it, he nodded. The Empress gestured to her Bane Sword wielding guards.

  The Empress turned and smiled wanly at Aaprin, “Fear not. I merely seek the truth.”

  The boy gulped, his father’s good hand squeezing his shoulder. “Truth, Majesty?”

  “Yes,” she answered gently, seeing how anxious he was.

  “Then, truth be told, I know nothing of Lord Senason’s death.”

  Sianhiel hissed, “That’s a lie!”

  “Summerfelt,” Grendel averred as the Empress glared at him for interrupting, “no harm shall befall you if you tell us the truth.”

  “You would call my son a liar?” Lucian rasped, turning to face Sianhiel. He swung out his crooked hand. “Hear him out! Let him explain!”

  The Empress sighed and proclaimed, “Enough! No further interruption of this sort will be permitted!” More gently to Aaprin, she said to the hesitant lad, “You were seen entering the passageway ahead of Lord Senason. What happened?”

  “I, uh, did, Majesty.”

  “And,” she softly urged.

  “I… I… thought I saw my master and followed, seeing him alone when he’s never to be unaccompanied.”

  At the Empress’s puzzled look, Se’and smiled and explained, “Cathartan custom, Empress. No Cathartan lord may ever be without a bodyguard.”

  Continuing, Aaprin nodded. “When I entered I thought I saw him. He turned to glance back at me at my entrance, seemed to go pale, then vanished. Perhaps I saw the space ripple where he had been, I’m not certain. I have never seen anything like it. I still don’t understand it. But one thing I know, that man was not Lord Je’orj!”

  “How can you be so certain?” the Empress asked as Grendel and Sianhiel bristled.

  “I don’t know. There was something about him that wasn’t right… I just know it wasn’t him.”

  George frowned as Se’and glanced to judge his reaction to this. He seemed to be listening intently to Aaprin’s every word. The staff in his hand shimmered ever so faintly through their fey bond.

  “I went over to the spot where I thought he had been standing,” Aaprin explained. “I was trying to figure out where he had gone to when Lord Senason abruptly arrived.”

  Abernathy glanced at the human mage— poised, listening, almost mesmerized, then noticed the sparkle in his half closed eyes and the matching gleam his staff now gave off.

  Aaprin stiffened and recounted in a stilted voice, “‘Milord Senason.’”

  “‘I know you... Aaprin Summerfelt, the apprentice to the human. What do you here?’”

  “‘I, uh… I appear to be lost, M’lord. Pardon my intrusion.’ I hastened past the elvin Highmage Candidate back toward the tapestry and the ballroom. As my hand brushed back the curtain I sensed a faint crackle in the air and glanced back at Lord Senason, then I saw no more as the tapestry swoshed back behind me, concealing the passageway entrance.”

  George blinked, returning to the here and now free of Aaprin’s memory, looking thoughtful.

  Grendel and Sianhiel glanced at each other, uncertain at the human mage’s trick as the Empress said, “You say he recognized you; spoke with you…” the Empress mused aloud, while Grendel placed a restraining hand on Sianhiel’s arm before the other could interrupt.”He asked you why you were there, then you left?”

  “That was all, Majesty. He was alive and well when I saw him, I swear to you.”

  The Empress shook her head, then quickly forestalled Sianhiel and the others with a look. “If that is so, why did you run away?”

  Ashamed, Aaprin glanced at the floor.

  His father prodded him, “Go on, lad. Everything will be all right.”

  He swallowed anxiously. “When I heard he had been found murdered in the passageway, I knew I was in terrible trouble. I had seen Lord Senason and someone I had thought to be my master. Who would believe Lord Je’orj innocent on only my word, knowing this?”<
br />
  The Empress nodded, “Who, indeed.”

  Flushed with anger, Sianhiel glared at the lad. “Quite a story.”

  Grendel frowned. “Aaprin, you say you saw this man, who you are somehow certain was, in fact, not your master. He inexplicably vanished. Majesty, I suggest that is a simple illusion to mask his presence, a cunning spell. The boy searches, sees nothing, yet there the man stands awaiting his victim.”

  Abernathy smiled, “That is a two-edged argument, Grendel. Who is to say that an imperfect illusion of Lord Je’orj here could not have been seen to cross the ballroom, enter the passage, then its spell expire?”

  “Bah!” shouted Sianhiel. “Such magery would demand a living pattern to bind its appearance. The magic would have set off the ballroom wards! But regardless, who is to say that the invisibility alone was the intent. Allowing you to kill Senason at your leisure, then to use that hidden passage you so conveniently found to make your escape!”

  The Empress glanced at her chosen investigator. “You remain most carefully silent. Have you nothing to say to this?”

  “I do, your Majesty. I must agree with Lord Sianhiel, though, I did not commit the murder as he seens intent on attributing to me… In regard to an illusion would it not have sent a warning through your wards?” Sianhiel stared suspiciously at George as he continued. “I can only judge events by the known facts. Science, that which you call Human Lore, works by careful experiment and observation.

  “I have learned that magic leaves some trace that it was affected— a residue in the ambient, sometimes strong, other times faint. That clearly indicated it is dependent on factors of how powerful the working and how long it has been since the magery was worked.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Grendel laughed. “I grant magery leaves a feel in the air. But to be able to claim that you might be able to judge the calibre of the working after it has faded? That is ludicrous.”