by Unknown
Mordecai broke in then. “You told us it was bitterly cold a minute ago.”
“Yeah, but thankfuly, being a wizard cold isn’t such a big problem.”
His father wasn’t having it. “But you said you had to conserve your power, since there was almost no ambient aythar.”
Thanks, Dad, he thought to himself, trying not to visibly grind his teeth. “I did, but staying warm was a priority.”
The mischievous look on his father’s face spoke volumes. “Oh, I agree! It’s how you…”
“Mort,” said Penny quietly, warning him with her eyes. “Let it go.”
Mordecai saw the look, and then remembered his wife’s past trials. She had once been stuck in the cold for weeks, captured by the shiggreth, with only one companion to help her stay warm. It had been one of the most terrifying and dehumanizing periods in her life, and he had once told her he would never press her for the details, unless she felt like talking about it.
She never had, though he knew the horror and shame of those days stil haunted her occasionaly. The conversation now was probably stirring
up unwelcome memories for her.
“So, what happened next?” asked Mordecai, letting the moment pass.
Matthew continued, though when he got to the part about Karen’s aunt, he told them they had stayed in separate rooms. His parents shared a quick glance but didn’t press him on that detail if they had any doubts.
The hardest part, though, was explaining the attack on Roberta’s home, and her violent demise. Penny blanched at his description, and his
father looked sympathetic, but it was the last part that brought shock and disbelief.
“They kiled him?” exclaimed his father, leaning forward.
“I lost consciousness,” said Matthew. “Karen told me he died, and since I had lost any of the benefits of the dragon-bond, I’m sure she wasn’t wrong. Also, Gary told me later that he discovered that their military had recovered a large egg.”
“Where is she now?” asked his mother. “Stil in her world?”
Matthew nodded. “Yeah, but she was badly hurt.”
Mordecai was puzzled. “How does this machine know so much about what’s going on with the enemy?”
He struggled through their questions and eventualy managed to tel them the rest of it—how Karen had nearly died and how he had left her,
secure in a stasis field. When he finished they sat in silence for a minute, until at last his father whistled and leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t like it,” Penny opined.
Matthew protested, “We have to help her! I won’t leave her like that!”
His mother smiled in sympathy. “I didn’t mean you should. I just said I don’t like it. I hate the thought of either of you going into such a dangerous place.”
“If we do it right, it won’t be dangerous at al,” insisted Matthew.
“You realy care about her, don’t you?” said Penny.
“Mom! Please! It isn’t anything like that. She’s a friend. I can’t abandon her.”
“Of course not,” she answered, looking at her husband.
Mordecai nodded. “It’s just a question of figuring out the safest way to extract her. You said she had lost a lot of blood?”
They spent another quarter of an hour going over Karen’s condition, but decided to put off the planning for later so Matthew could take a much needed bath. He didn’t argue the point.
***
Later, in his room, Gary spoke up. “I noticed you didn’t say very much about me.”
“Dad didn’t seem like he was going to trust you,” said Matthew.
“You made it sound like I’m a toy you turn off and stick in your bag most of the time. You didn’t even tel them I was there. I could have
contributed to the conversation,” said the AGI.
“Would you like to go in my bag?” offered the young wizard. “It can be arranged.”
The machine started to reply, but Matthew shushed him. “My sister’s coming. Stay quiet.”
The knock on his door was just a courtesy, she opened it immediately after. “Hi.”
He didn’t feel like talking, but something in her eyes stopped him from teling her to go away. She looked haunted, and her face seemed almost gaunt. Gone was her native enthusiasm and vitality, replaced by a tired young woman who seemed world-weary beyond her years.
Matthew tried to be sympathetic, “You look like shit.”
Her eyes lit with a flash of anger, but it disappeared almost instantly, replaced by relief. “I guess some things never change, do they?”
“What happened to you? I haven’t heard the whole story yet,” he asked, mildly surprised by his own interest.
“A little of this and a little of that,” she answered. “Do we have to talk about it?”
No, he sent mentaly, but he was surprised when he found a shield around her mind so dense that he doubted she could even hear his thought.
“Don’t,” she said quietly. “It isn’t good for me to talk that way, not in close proximity , at least.”
He arched one brow. “Not good? Is there something you should tel me about?”
“Again, not something I want to talk about,” she said. “Just—make sure you keep your mental shields tightly closed when I’m around. Al
right?”
Now he was realy curious , but after a moment he nodded. “Fine.”
They sat in silence for almost a ful minute before she spoke again, “I heard about Desacus. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” he answered duly.
“And that you met a girl,” she added, her tone rising slightly.
Of course, he thought silently, that’s what brought her in here. “It isn’t like that.”
“She isn’t a girl?”
Matthew sighed, “You know what I mean.”
“Wel, of course,” she replied, “everyone knew there was no chance of that. ”
“Very funny.”
“Did you see Gram when you got here?” she asked suddenly.
“Yeah, he ran interference for me on my way up here,” said Matt. “Why?”
“Just wanted to know how he was doing. I haven’t seen him in a while. Alyssa’s back, did you know?”
“He told me,” he answered, but Matthew was muling over her words as he did. “Why haven’t you seen him?”
“I’ve been staying here most of the time. Resting up. I haven’t been out but once or twice since I got back.” Moira’s voice was dry; matter-of-fact.
Nothing to see here, thought Matthew. That’s what she’s trying to say, but there’s definitely something . “Did you get in trouble with Mom and Dad?”
“They were worried,” she replied. “It was about the same when I got back, except I wasn’t lucky and had to face everyone in the castle yard, but I’m not being punished. I just haven’t felt like seeing people.”
Yeah, sure, he thought. Moira liked seeing people the same way a fish liked water. She wouldn’t stay in for a week by choice. “I heard you started a war.”
Moira didn’t answer, so they sat in silence for a few minutes. It was a reassuring quiet, a peaceful space without expectation. Neither of them felt like fighting, and to say more would have probably led to an argument, so instead they left the words for later.
After a while she rose and headed for the door. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece,” she said, without looking back.
“You too,” he said quietly, and then she was gone. With one hand he flipped the PM over so the screen was facing up again. It lit up
immediately.
“Great talk with your sister,” said Gary dryly.
Actualy, Matthew agreed. Something was wrong with her, of that he was sure, and it worried him slightly, but overal, he was just glad she had been more subdued. “It’s more about what we don’t say,” he observed.
Chapter 30
The next two days were busy. Matthew was inundated with friends and family th
at wanted to know where he had been; the questions were
innumerable. Conal and Irene pestered him endlessly, though not just about him—they also probed him about Moira.
It wasn’t just Gram that had seen little of Moira, it was pretty much everyone. Since her return, she had been to Dunbar once, and on a short trip with Mordecai. Other than that, she had stayed in her room and kept to herself.
The annoying part was that, for some reason, everyone seemed to think that Matthew would have some sort of intuition or mystical way to fix his sister. I know less than they do, though, he noted silently. He didn’t realy have time to spend trying to figure it out, either. More pressing was the need to save Karen.
He had already questioned Lynarala on the matter, and, as he had suspected, she knew nothing of the She’Har’s advanced healing methods.
She suggested asking her mother, which would require a journey and a lot of time, since she was a mature She’Har.
Because of that, they ruled that option out and sent a message to Gareth Gaelyn in Albamarl. He was kind enough to respond to the urgency of the request and arrived in Castle Cameron the morning of Matthew’s third day back.
Matthew and his father greeted him in the entry hal of the castle keep.
“Gareth,” said Mordecai. “It’s good to see you again.”
Bush red brows drew together in a skeptical expression. “Realy, Mort? Is it that good to see me?”
“Wel, of course,” said the Count, giving their guest his most disarming smile.
“My wife has been in a foul mood since she returned from her last visit, but she refuses to discuss the matter,” stated Gareth, cutting straight to the point. “Why don’t we talk about that?”
Mort frowned. “Let’s find someplace private.”
Matthew watched the whole exchange without saying anything, but his own curiosity was piqued now. Gareth shook his hand, and the three of
them started walking.
Once they were safely ensconced in a private room, this time in the Cameron family apartments, not their home in the mountains, they began their discussion.
“Moira wouldn’t tel me why she was so insistent on her visit when she left, and she’s been unsettled ever since she returned,” said Gareth.
“What did you do?” He made no attempt to disguise the accusatory tone in his voice. He was referring to his wife, Moira Centyr, not Matthew’s sister, the inheritor of her name.
Matthew watched his father’s face. Mordecai’s gaze remained steady, his eyes on Gareth and his expression revealing nothing, but it was clear the gears were working behind his stil features. Eventualy he spoke, “Your wife came to check on my daughter.”
“That’s not unusual,” replied Gareth. “Get to the point.”
The tension in the air was growing, but Matthew couldn’t help but agree. Yeah, what happened?
“As you surmise, it wasn’t a casual visit. She was concerned about the events in Dunbar and Moira’s part in them. The Centyr have many
secrets and she was worried that our daughter had broken some of their hidden rules.
“You knew the Centyr back when they were thriving,” added the Count. “Are you familiar with any of their internal laws?”
Gareth had relaxed once Mort started talking. “Not realy. They kept to themselves for the most part. They even raised their children in
seclusion, so most of us from the other families only interacted with them in the council. Did she break any of those rules you mentioned?”
Matthew saw the hesitation on his father’s face as he considered his answer. He’s thinking about lying. Why?
Mordecai let out a sigh of resignation, “Yes. She did.”
The other archmage winced visibly. “And you bound my wife, didn’t you?”
Matt knew he had missed something, but he held his tongue.
“I had no other choice,” admitted the Count. “She has too much power for me to have done anything else.”
Moira Centyr was an artificial being, a spel-clone of the original Moira, and after Mordecai’s battles to dispose of the shining gods, he’d had to find places to store the power he had taken from them. Most of it had gone into the dragons that he and Gareth had created, but a significant portion had been stored in Moira Centyr. Consequently, she had as much strength in her as one of the shining gods. But Mordecai knew the key that controled the enchantment that preserved her, and it could be used to compel absolute obedience.
“She wanted to kil the girl?” asked Gareth, seeking confirmation.
Mort nodded his affirmation.
It was too much for Matthew, though. “What?!” he blurted out. “Why? Moira’s her daughter!”
Gareth rubbed his beard in agitation. “I don’t know the ‘why,’ but back in my day it wasn’t uncommon. Once in a while the Centyr would
eliminate one of their own. More often than not it was one of their younger mages, though sometimes it would be one of the older, more
accomplished members of the clan. They never admitted to it, of course, but we knew. One of them would go missing, and they’d refuse to speak of them again.”
“And everyone was fine with that?” said Matthew in disbelief.
“The families didn’t interfere with one another,” said Gareth stiffly. “What they did to their own was none of our business.”
Mordecai spoke again, “I hope you can forgive me, Gareth, but with my daughter’s life at stake I didn’t see any other choice.”
“I’m not happy,” said Gareth honestly. “What did the girl do?”
“Your wife didn’t want me to reveal their secrets, so…,” began Mort.
Gareth snapped, “Goddammit, man! I don’t give two shits about their rules, and neither do you! You’ve bound my wife’s free-wil in this
matter, so I will hear the cause for it!”
Matthew felt the older man’s words like a slap and leaned back involuntarily. He’d never heard anyone speak to his father in a tone like that.
Mordecai stayed calm, and then sighed, “She used her power to control and manipulate the people around her. She did it in self-defense,
mainly, or with good intentions, but it’s caused a shift in her personality and unlocked some troublesome abilities.”
Now Matthew began to understand. He also had Tyrion’s memories, and he remembered the danger the Centyr She’Har had represented to
him ages ago. That was why she didn’t want to make mental contact when she was in my room, he realized. It was also the likely reason for her self-imposed isolation.
“I don’t know the particulars of how something like that affects them,” admitted Gareth, “but I would imagine the Centyr don’t kil their own unless they have a damn good reason. Do you think you know better than they did?”
The Count nodded. “I know something of it, from the memories in the loshti, but not much. I also heard what your wife had to say on the
matter.”
“And what did she say?” asked Gareth. “Since she can no longer speak of it on her own.” There was anger in his voice.
“She felt that Moira would be tempted to abuse her power in the future. That it had tainted her spirit,” said Mordecai.
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Mordecai,” rebuked Gareth. “She wouldn’t insist on death if she thought she would be tempted. She had to have believed it was worse than that.”
“Fine. She believed my daughter had become a ‘reaver .’ It was her term for a Centyr mage that has been corrupted, alowing their power to
twist them into some sort of inhuman monster. Is that what you want me to say?” said Mordecai in frustration. “I think she’s wrong.”
“You would,” said Gareth. “You’re an optimistic fool. My wife knows the Centyr, and she knows her daughter. You should have folowed her
advice.”
The chair Mordecai was sitting on rippled for an instant, so briefly that Matthew almost thought he had imagined it. He felt nothing—his fat
her’s emotions were wel hidden behind a shield that had become as solid as stone—but he had seen it. He’s angry, thought Matt. So angry that he lost control for a moment. He glanced at Gareth for a second, noting that the other archmage was also hiding his feelings behind a tightly made shield.
This could get ugly.
The Count’s voice was cool and level when he replied, “I disagree, and unless I see evidence to make me think otherwise, that’s the end of it.”
Gareth Gaelyn’s eyes flashed fire and he stood. “Then we have nothing more to discuss. Don’t bother asking me for help or advice either. You are no longer welcome in my home, and I’l thank you to keep your daughter away as wel.” He started to turn away.
“Wait!” exclaimed Matthew, drawing looks from both men. “I need your help.”
“You heard me, mageling ,” said Gareth, dismissing him. “If your father won’t see reason, I’m done here.”
“Let him go, Matt,” advised his father. “We can do it without him.”
Matt turned to face Mordecai. “You said he was the best for this. I’m not going to risk Karen’s life to satisfy your pride!”
Gareth chuckled. “Your whelp has grown teeth, Mordecai.”
“Let me speak to Gareth alone,” said Matt, entreating his father.
The Count’s eyes ranged between them, flashing with anger. When they landed on Matthew he saw something else for a moment, but it
vanished in an instant, washed away by his father’s wrath. “Very wel, son. Talk to him if you wish, but I’l have nothing to do with it if he’s involved. If you want to act like a man and make your own deals, then you’l have to accept the consequences as wel. I’m done with this!” He left the room with a heavy stride, and when he reached the door it flew open with such force that the wood splintered. It slammed shut behind him with a thundering boom.
“Lord Gaelyn,” began Matthew, after the air had settled.
“Just Gareth, young Ileniel,” said the red bearded wizard. “I need no titles when talking to men, even foolish ones.”
“I hope the trouble between you and my father won’t sway you before you hear my…”
“Don’t bandy words, young man,” barked Gareth. “You threw your father’s pride in his face and now you want to speak to me with soft
