Knight's Haven (Legend of the White Sword Book 4)

by P. D. Kalnay

  “What’s the purpose of that?”

  “There are many useful bindings. An example is the binding of damp air above a field or orchard. A skilled binder can allow sprellow buds to be grown in a desert. Cool air may be bound in a hot place or the opposite may be affected. The art of binding has countless uses. In practice, the work of a binder is often dull, and given the opportunity to erase my family’s debt, I leapt at the chance to teach you.”

  Which reminded me of Gran’s letter.

  “Can I see the letter my grandmother sent?”

  “You would be wise to confirm its authenticity.”

  She pulled a folded letter from somewhere in her dress and handed it to me. The black wax seal had been broken already, and I opened the letter. The handwriting was unquestionably Gran’s. I’d read a fair number of books she’d written. The language wasn’t English, and the letters weren’t similar to a Roman alphabet, but I could read them as easily. It was as if I’d learned that alphabet from kindergarten on up through school. Gran’s letter said that all debts to the house of Aerantial would be erased in exchange for teaching me to use my winathen magic. The letter was abrupt and to the point, just like Gran.

  “It’s amazing I can read this,” I said aloud, handing back the letter. “I know travelling the Tree lets you understand the local language, but this is amazing…”

  “You are satisfied with the letter’s authenticity?” Lyrian waited for me to nod before she tucked the letter away again. “There’s nothing remarkable about your ability to read this. Every fae is born with an innate knowledge of our tongue, be it written or spoken. No schooling is required. This is part of what we are.”

  “I didn’t know that.” I’d done a lot of engraving on the things I’d made, and could understand how the symbols around the doors to the workshop functioned together, to form an enchantment, but, if they were also a language, I didn’t understand it the way I had Gran’s letter. “What about the symbols used to make enchantments work?”

  “To which symbols do you refer?”

  “All the things that Marielain Blackhammer made, work by combining different symbols, together to perform a task. Are those letters too?”

  “They are words, but not our words. They’re fragments of the language of creation. According to legend it was the language used by the titans themselves. If stories are to be believed, all of this,” she waved to indicate the world around us, “was brought about with that original language. Each rune is the true name of something, or a piece of a true name.”

  I’d unconsciously inscribed a fair bit of that ancient language over the past couple of years.

  “Those runes are learned through careful study. Years of practice are needed to make use of them. Luckily, for most enchanters, only a few are required within their area of specialisation. The common set is taught by every school of enchantment. The knowledge of rare and powerful runes is guarded closely. If you have already learned the basic runes, our studies will go swifter. Winathen tie enchantments in the winds, rather than carving them into the stone or metal, but the fundamental principles are the same.”

  Gran had said something similar. It looked as if some of my just knowing things wasn’t normal for fairies either. I didn’t correct her assumption that I’d been taught to read those runes. I needed to talk to Ivy, and I decided not to mention my unschooled use or innate understanding of the language of creation. Despite what Ivy thought, I didn’t trust Lyrian.

  “Close your eyes and slow your breathing,” Lyrian said.

  I closed my eyes and tried to breathe as little as was necessary.

  “Feel the wind as it plays across your wings.”

  “I can’t feel anything on my wings,” I said. “They have no sense of touch that I’ve noticed.”

  “I forgot how recently you acquired them,” Lyrian said.

  Then I felt something touch my left wing. The entire wing had suddenly become as sensitive as my finger tips and the strange sensation tickled. I jumped up in shock and lost any concentration I’d managed to that point.

  “What did you do?”

  I was flushed all over.

  “I merely touched your wing,” Lyrian said.

  She still sat serenely on the grass.

  “I’ve touched them, and Ivy has touched them; I felt nothing.”

  “Of course not, only the touch of another winathen is felt through our wings. The first touch a child feels is the hands of their parents, shortly after birth. Thus, the first bonds of family are formed.”

  “So touching each other’s wings is a greeting?” It had felt a lot more intimate than a handshake.

  “No, Jakalain.” Lyrian smiled. “Only one who is very… close would typically touch another’s wings. You showed an academic interest, and the florathen girl could never touch you so. My touch was a part of our lesson and will serve to facilitate future lessons. You may touch my wings if you wish.”

  “Uh, are you sure that’s OK?”

  “I have given my permission.”

  Lyrian’s wings were oddly interesting, but her touch had felt slightly improper. I reminded myself that I was there to learn, and that I had no improper intentions. She sat still as I walked around behind her and gently set a hand on her wing. Lyrian shivered when I ran my hands across the wing. Unlike my wing, it felt warm under my hands, and if my hands hadn’t hurt so much, I was certain the touching would have been pleasant. Some glittery powder came off on my fingertips. It appeared that her extra sparkle came from fairy makeup.

  “You may touch the other,” Lyrian whispered.

  Something in the tone of her voice caused me to look up from the first wing. That’s when I saw Ivy. She was standing on the boulevard, arms full of fruits, staring at us. I jumped back guiltily. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I suddenly felt extremely guilty. Ivy said nothing before continuing on up the road.

  “I think we should get back to the lesson,” I said.

  “Very well, close your eyes and try to feel the wind upon your wings again.”

  I sat and slowed my breathing, finding it harder to focus the second time. However, I felt a new sensation of wind passing across my wings that definitely hadn’t been there before. It was like Lyrian had jump-started my wings. I flapped them slowly, as the air played across the surfaces, which felt similar to moving arms through water.

  “I can feel it now,” I said. “Why couldn’t I before?”

  “A parent’s touch awakens the wings. Most experience what you now feel from infancy. Be cautious in the coming days. Other dormant senses may spontaneously develop. Your delayed maturity is unprecedented. If you find yourself becoming overwhelmed, you must seek me out.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “We play a game.”

  What followed was a game that winathen play with children to teach them a basic control of the air. Think winathen peekaboo and you aren’t too far off. We took turns sending gentle gusts of wind across the grassy space at one another. With my thoughts, I gathered nearby air into a loose bundle and flung it at her. It took me hours to manage it, and by the end I could send as much breeze as I could have by forcefully exhaling. The lesson ended well after noon had come and gone.

  “That will suffice for today, Jakalain.”

  Lyrian rose to her feet.

  “I didn’t accomplish much,” I said.

  “You reached the level of a toddler in a single morning. If you can maintain the pace, you’ll be a competent enchanter in mere decades.”

  Decades? I’d hoped to become proficient faster than that. Lyrian guessed my thoughts.

  “I told you that patience is a desirable quality for would-be enchanters. Careless haste will lead you to ruin. When the opportunity arises, I shall send for a copy of a book that all young enchanters should read. It tells many tales of those who threw caution to the wind. Please forgive the pun.”

  “Do you mean The Book of Cautionary Tales?”

  “Yes, do you know of it?
”

  “I read it a couple of times.”

  “Then my words of warning should be unnecessary. We have a saying: Only birds learn to fly in a day.”

  “Can we fly?” I glanced back at my wings.

  “No, but the greatest of enchanters come close. If you develop that level of skill you will be able to jump safely from any height and stay aloft for a time.”

  “Cool, I already did something like that by accident.”

  “Indeed?”

  I told her about my jump from the tower trail when my transformation had occurred.

  “You have had excellent luck up to this point and show raw potential. I suggest waiting until you can do these things intentionally and consistently before you take up cliff jumping as a pastime.”

  I nodded. Lyrian turned and walked off down the boulevard.

  “We shall meet here each morning,” she called out without looking back.

  “What if it’s raining?”

  “We shall meet here each morning.”

  Chapter 13 – Meeting the Neighbours

  I went up to the apartment, but Ivy wasn’t home. After grabbing something to eat, I came back outside to look for her. Soon, I was wandering the streets of Havensport. Hundreds of people had come with the knights and Lyrian on the Northfire. They weren’t enough to fill a tiny corner of the city, but it was strange to see anybody on the streets. Most were looking around, presumably trying to find the buildings that would be easiest to repair. I hadn’t expected actual settlers to arrive on the first boat. No one greeted me, and many seemed fearful, crossing to the opposite side of the street when we met.

  I was deep into the middle tier of the city before anyone spoke to me. It was a young satyr boy. He was standing outside the doorway of a large house that had survived in unusually good condition. I had no way of knowing, but I guessed him to be eight or nine, using humans as my reference. I smiled and nodded as I passed, expecting no response.

  “Hello,” the boy said.

  I stopped, surprised.

  “Hello.”

  “Who are you?” The boy asked. He had a high-pitched voice and his horns were just nubs, mostly covered by his tousled reddish-brown hair. “I don’t remember you from the ship.”

  “I wasn’t on it. I was already here.”

  “You’re a funny looking fairy,” the boy said with a giggle.

  I lowered my age estimate to six or seven.

  “I suppose so,” I said. “I haven’t seen enough of them to be sure.”

  “Have you always lived on Knight’s Haven? We just got here.”

  “I’ve only been here a few months. Where did you live before?”

  “We lived in Proudspire. I miss my friends, but Mother says our life will be better here.”

  He looked around at the ruined city.

  “I’m sure this place will improve as more people arrive and fix it,” I said.

  Havensport was depressing and smelled like a fireplace when the breeze died down. He looked sceptical, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “I’m Alak. What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Jack if you want to.”

  The boy looked up at me, and his face twisted in consternation.

  “Are you bothering people?” a woman’s voice said behind me.

  I turned and met my first female satyr. It was disconcerting. Satyrs have shaggy goat legs and hooved feet. Their upper bodies are mostly human looking, although they have faces with slightly goaty features and small horns. The men went shirtless which wasn’t too distracting. The women did too, which was. I did my very best to look Alak’s mother in the eye.

  “Hi, I’m Jack,” I said.

  “Aleen,” the woman said. “Please forgive my son, for bothering you.”

  “He wasn’t bothering me. He’s the first person who’s talked to me. Everyone else has been unfriendly.”

  “How old are you, Jack?” Aleen asked.

  “I’ll be seventeen in a few months.”

  “Many would assume you are older, given your demeanour and appearance. Also, you are fae…”

  “So? Lots of people are, aren’t they?”

  “It’s rare to meet or deal with your kind. Until we took ship for Knight’s Haven, I’d only ever seen two or three of your people, from a distance. I’ll be a hundred and thirty next year.”

  “I thought the Fae have had a stranglehold on shipping for centuries? Don’t they get around everywhere?”

  “Forgive me, but you’re strangely ignorant of your own kind.”

  “I never really lived with any of them, growing up.”

  “I see. Most of those crewing fae ships are indentured servants or slaves from other races. Usually, only the captain and a few officers are fae. Your people dislike leaving their lands…”

  That was understandable, based on what I’d learned. They were strongest at home.

  “Why did you come to Knight’s Haven?” I asked.

  “For my son.” She rested a hand on Alak’s head. “His father died before he was born, and I struggled to feed us in Proudspire. When Sir Balar announced that he would be accepting servants in exchange for citizenship, I couldn’t swear the oaths fast enough. Alak will find more chances at making his fortune here than anywhere. Many generations ago, my family had a successful trading house here. The last of our gold was long gone before my grandmother’s grandmother died, but perhaps some talent still flows in Alak’s blood. In a strange way, we are returning home.”

  “I want to be warrior, like Janik Whiteblade,” Alak said.

  “You will be a merchant,” his mother said. “You will beget many children, grow rich, and die of old age—in your bed.”

  Alak pouted, but he didn’t argue.

  “Are you going to live here?” I pointed to the house she’d come out of.

  “It’s the best I’ve found. I was given permission to choose any in this neighbourhood. This might have been my family’s house in the distant past. Someday, it will be Alak’s, so I must choose wisely.”

  The house was one of the better ones, but that bar was low.

  “If you need help, let me know,” I said. I couldn’t repair the whole city, but maybe I could help one family. “I’m pretty good at making furniture too.”

  “You’re a kind young man to offer, and we’ve yet properly to introduced ourselves. My name is Aleen Sharphorn.”

  I held out my hand, and Aleen took it with hesitation, but I thought handshaking might not be a First World thing.

  “Jakalain Moonborn Talantial,” I said. “You can call me Jack if you want.”

  Aleen took her hand back as though I’d burned her. Then she looked at her feet.

  “That wouldn’t be proper, Prince Jakalain. Please forgive me for speaking so freely.”

  “Are you the Blackhammer?” Alak asked.

  Aleen pulled him back into the doorway with her.

  “Please forgive his impertinence, Prince Jakalain. He often listened to our lord and the other knights speaking aboard ship. The ship overflowed with rumours.”

  “I’m not a prince of anything,” I said. “My offer stands if you want help.”

  I was making her uncomfortable and decided it would be best to move on.

  “Are you really the Blackhammer?” Alak shouted before his mother clamped a hand over his mouth.

  I smiled to show I wasn’t upset, and hopefully that I wasn’t scary.

  “I guess so,” I said. “It was nice meeting you.”

  I walked for hours without getting more than a stares or glares from the other people I passed. Most looked nervous and a lot of them were scary looking. Who knew I’d be the weirdo in a world of fairy-tale creatures. I headed home, tired and depressed, hoping Ivy was back. She was, but my day only continued its downhill slide.

  ***

  I found her on the balcony. Ivy didn’t look up when I came out to join her.

  “I was looking all over for you,” I said.

  “I’m
surprised you remembered I existed.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Touching that old woman, where anyone could see. Have you no shame?”

  “I just touched her wing. It was part of the lesson.”

  “I’ve no doubt.”

  Ivy had nothing to be jealous about. It was ridiculous for her to get so upset.

  “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

  Ivy stood and spun toward me. She looked ready to blow a gasket.

  “You’re covered in moon dust. It’s on your face!”

  She tried to storm off of the balcony, but I reached an arm across the doorway, stopping her.

  “I’ll go, if you don’t want me around.”

  I left the apartment and sat out in the workshop. I’d checked my reflection in the living room mirror on the way by. I’d inadvertently wiped the glitter from my hands onto my face and all over my clothes. It proved difficult to remove, and it looked as if I’d been rolling around in the stuff.

  ***

  One found me out in the shop a little while later.

  “Master, are you well?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “May I be of assistance, Master?”

  My hands hurt too much to make something just for fun, and I didn’t need anything right then. I figured I might as well dig into the library.

  “Do you have any books about the symbols from the language of creation?”

  “Yes, Master, I contain many volumes concerning the Primal Tongue.”

  “Does anybody actually speak it?”

  “Only dragons retain the language in its entirety. They don’t share that knowledge.”

  “Is there something like a textbook for learning the basic symbols?”

  “Yes, Master, I contain the primary codex used by all schools of enchantment.”

  “Good, I want to start with the simplest and work my way up.”

  I had One get a pair of charcoal sticks and then I practised writing the basic set of symbols on the smooth floor of the workshop. One could produce any symbol with flawless precision, and I spent hours trying to accomplish something I’d essentially done in my sleep back at Gran’s. No natural ability to write the complex symbols flowed from my fingertips. If I wanted those skills, I’d have to earn them. I did have an innate understanding of many of the symbol’s meanings, even before One explained them.