by Lexy Wolfe
"Of course I can understand not going to that blowhard Draustus. But why come to me? Ellis and Bennu were the ones who created the barrier to begin with!" Nolyn gestured aimlessly in exasperation. "If anyone could help you, it is Ellis."
"And prove that I am too weak to hold my seat?" she hissed. "The Edai Magi have always spied on one other. Many use that to their advantage to spread disinformation. But you… You are different Master Nolyn. Not only do you not spy, you have a preternatural awareness when someone is attempting to and dispel the attempts. You are… you are not deceitful. You are exactly how you present yourself."
"Thank you. I think," Nolyn replied to the oblique compliment.
Eptina sighed gustily. "I almost envy your naivete with highborn politicking, Master Nolyn. But any evidence that I am unable to perform my duties as Edai Magus is just what the other highborn families are waiting for. I know very well the goddess is not going to abandon us to ourselves again. However, I do not know if they think things will be returning to the way they were under Ysai or if it is just matter of time, but…" She shook her head. "Master Nolyn, I am one of the youngest on the Edai Tredecima. The last appointed by Ysai shortly before her fall." She turned away. "Ellis dislikes me. The goddess has little reason to favor me. They are circling like vultures, waiting for me to be removed. They believe they will have influence on who would get Estania. They already believe the goddess has few options available to Her within the Dyndrai."
"I think at this point, the Knowing One would rather risk the imbalance of an empty seat than put a fool in it."
"I agree. But at least you have the goddess's blessings. I have nothing. I must prove I am not weak!"
Nolyn opened his mouth, then shut it again, gritting his teeth for a moment. "You have a point. Ellis is sensitive about Andar. And the more sniping highborn love to manipulate the popular opinion of the lowborn with half truths, exaggerations, or just outright lies. The chaos this could set loose…" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let me get things in order here. I will be in Quoesia in a sevenday. Once I get a sense of what is going on myself, we can plan our next move."
"Thank you, Master Nolyn. I will gather what information I can to bring to you once you arrive." Eptina averted her eyes. "The Dyndrai family will be... very difficult to deal with should they realize that I am reaching out for help in a matter that could make me — and them — look inferior in the extreme." She did not raise her eyes to meet his. "That is much of the reason I wish to retain the-the appearance of courtship."
He did not have any words for the mention of courting immediately. "You must forgive me my hesitancy in that. Too often lies are forced into truths. But, I will be discrete on this issue you brought to me, Eptina. Now go. I must return to my apprentice's lessons." She pressed her lips at his abrupt dismissal, but did not argue. Turning away, she swept past Marcus without a backwards look.
The man hesitated, picking up a small stone resting on a shelf. As Nolyn rejoined Marcus, he arched an eyebrow at the boy's expression as he tossed the stone back to his apprentice. "You were listening in, hm?"
"It is part of the Edai to gather all information one can in the event it can be useful," he replied with innocence in demeanor and voice. "Even evesdropping on one's master is expected."
Nolyn shook his head. "You are lucky you are my apprentice and I trust you. But trust that if I ever do withhold knowledge from you, there is good reason, hm? You are likely to have to help investigate anything like this in the future."
"Yes, Master. I apologize." His expression grew troubled. "Isn't Andar where Illaini Magus Ash was from?" Nolyn nodded grimly as the two headed into the vast archives. "What... happened there? I know everyone tries to find out, but nothing is ever found in the Archives about it. But then, you said that if the contributors were still alive, you had to be stronger than them to get that information to reveal itself. And Illaini Magus Ash was the only survivor and he's incredibly strong willed."
"It isn't as simple as that in this case," Nolyn said in a low voice, looking at the scar in his right palm. "Ash doesn't remember what happened. Ellis and Bennu had already taken me in as a foster ward when my family sent me to the Magus Academy. When Ellis and Bennu returned after whatever happened in Andar, Ash was just a year or so younger than me and near death. It took weeks to nurse him back to health. He would not speak for months." Marcus's eyes moved from Nolyn's profile to watch the man's unconscious rubbing of the odd, star-shaped scar in his palm.
Marcus looked down, running his hand along a shelf. "He lost his entire family? Well, except for Masters Bennu and Ellis, but... he didn't know they were family until Zoe said so."
"He knew, but only a little before the Knowing One announced it." A crooked smile twisted Nolyn's lips. "He kept it secret because he did not want to hurt Swordanzen Storm. She, too, has no family. Except that she is not as fortunate as he. There are no others of her family left alive. Ash felt guilty that he was no longer alone when she will never have that sort of miracle. How much more fortunate he was."
Marcus frowned. "It is hard to think of Master Ash as more fortunate than anyone after all that he suffered."
"Indeed," Nolyn agreed, lost in thought. "I did not feel so sorry for myself after I got to know him." He caught Marcus's curious look out of the corner of his eye and chuckled. "Come. Let's get down to learning more of how to research the archives. You know about having to have a strong will, but focus is the sister talent to the trait that aids in successful research."
Chapter 19
Marcus peeked out of the door of his room, whispering a spell to keep the lamps from brightening with his presence as he slipped out. He dashed to the Illaini Magus's personal library, ducked in and shut the door behind him. He leaned against the door, puffing and closing his eyes as he tried to stop his heart from thudding, certain the whole household could hear it. When his pounding blood stopped ringing through his ears, he waited a few minutes longer until he was certain no one had seen him.
Creeping forward, he looked at the wall of shelves, lined with various books. "Great Mother, forgive me," he whispered in fervent prayer. "I know I should respect Master Ash's privacy, but I just know..." He stepped forward. "I know the answer has to be here." Standing before the desk, fists clenched and eyes closed, he whispered, "Master Ash. Please help me understand my dream. I am afraid I will lose my master if I do not understand what it means."
At first, there was nothing but silence. Marcus opened his eyes, shoulders sagging in defeat. Then the quiet sound of movement drew his attention to a low cabinet that served as a table along the wall. Uncertain, he knelt by it to open the door. A very old book slid itself out slowly. He took it with great care and went to the desk. For a moment, he examined the cover reverently. "This is one of your first student journals, Master Ash. How can my dream…? Never mind. Thank you." He took it to the desk and sat at the simple, but elegant chair, murmuring a spell to brighten the oil lamp, hugging the old journal tight against himself.
Resting the book on its spine, he took a deep breath and held it. He moved his hands away and let the book fall open. Hesitant, he finally leaned forward to read the pages. He felt himself go pale, trembling as he touched the page to follow along with his reading.
"'Master Bennu suggested that to stop bad dreams, I should write them down in my journal. It feels stupid. And I am not sure I want to stop them. The shadows and fear and everything are from before the event in Andar. No one will tell me anything about what happened there, just that it is better I let the past in the past this once. I can't remember anything else, except these dreams. They are all I have left. But I need sleep, too. I can't protect Forenta if I can't focus. I have to protect Forenta. Not just because She asked me to. Because... I have to. I have to keep everyone safe.
"'I have to be strong enough to keep everyone safe and that means I need to sleep. Is it bad that I have never slept without the nightmare? Until Nolyn told me he did not have such ugly dream
s, I never knew otherwise. I have had it my whole life. They say I am an adult in a ten year old's body. It is funny. To me, my whole life is only four years long. And if Master Bennu thinks writing down this dream will make it rest so I can, I will. Especially since now Nolyn can feel what I'm feeling with that weird 'star brothers' spell we found buried in the Avarian family library. I don't want him to worry about me.'"
A low voice from the shadows made Marcus startle so badly he slipped off the chair and onto the floor with a yelp. "I wondered how long it would take you to get in here," Nolyn said. He moved into the circle of the lamp's glow, as quiet as a ghost, and sat on the chair across from the desk. "It took me about three sevendays before I could bring myself to look in Ash's private journals. Never got him to let go of anything I asked about. He is stubborn like that and his journals have his exact temperament. So, I would pick one now and then at random when I had free time. You must have touched a nerve to get one to respond." Nolyn's expression was a mixture of puzzlement and gravity. "I am not sure if I should be impressed or anxious about what you asked that could move his soul's echos."
Marcus scrambled to get off the floor. "You-you are not mad?"
"Me? No. Ash will likely be a bit annoyed with us. He does not like his inner self exposed to anyone." The corner of his mouth twisted up wryly as he looked at the scar in his right palm. "Even to me. Sometimes, I think he drove himself to mastery so he could keep these journals out of the archives." The man closed his eyes a moment. "I remember the nightmares he talks about there. It took all the time we were friends to get him to tell me about them at all back then, and he was very scant on details. Please, continue." Eyes turned from Marcus to his right palm again. "I never read this particular entry."
Nodding and swallowing nervously, Marcus looked back over the page, locating where he had left off. "'I was somewhere dark. I think I know the place. It is familiar. But for some reason, it is strange, too. There is a shadow that is darker than the normal shadows. I know it. Some part of me has always known it, though I cannot see it clearly in my dreams now. I did not used to be afraid of it, but I was now. It was angry. So very angry. And in such pain! It was attacking... I cannot remember who. And all I could think of was I had to stop it from hurting them. Even though I was a child, some part of me reacted with instinct. I cast a spell. I don't know what kind, or even what it was suppose to do. But it did something. Feathers that looked like they were once white but had been rubbed in dirt and oil flew everywhere. And my head hurt… so bad. I thought my skull was going to split, it hurt so much.
"'It turned towards me. I thought it would be angry. It was angry. But it was... it is stupid to say, but it is what is in my dream. It was... horrified. And... proud? Stupid. Why would something I attacked be proud of me attacking it? It lurched towards me, this monster. Its face was so twisted with rage and despair. It struck me with the back of its fist, but before it ends, I hear a voice. It said, 'Forgive me.' But I do not know what it wants me to forgive.'"
Pausing for a moment, Marcus whispered. "I never imagined what the Illaini Magus might have had to suffer."
"Ash knew better than anyone how some would have used his past to try to hurt him, whether socially or otherwise. Once when he had come down with a fever, he told me he wished I had never became his spirit brother because he didn't want to lose me, too." Nolyn raised his eyes from the scar in his palm to Marcus. "I did not come here with questions when I first opened his journals. But what drew you to... that?" Marcus looked down in shame. "Marcus. Please. Talk to me."
"I have had... a similar dream, Master. Shadows and darkness. Familiar but not. Except you were there. The shadow was attacking you and I thought you were going to die and I... I attacked it. It was just a stick, not magic. I couldn't think of any spell that could have—" He looked up with tears streaming down his cheeks. "I know it's just a stupid dream but you are my master and you are the only one who thinks I am worth anything and I couldn't lose you and if I did nothing—"
Nolyn's eyes widened at the boy's distress. He quickly went to the other side of the desk, pulling Marcus into a fierce hug. His apprentice wrapped his arms around him. "It is all right, Marcus. It's okay, it was just a dream." He looked down at the open journal, a flicker of worry crossing his features.
Chapter 20
Along the northern shore just outside of Ganessi in the Sevmanan territory, the camp of the Morlaiz gypsy clan was alive with activity as they settled in for the evening. Young children scampered around, chasing each other in a game only they understood. Older youngsters played a ball game, while the women attended to more domestic matters while gossiping about the men. Their peals of laughter caused the men sitting around their own camp fire to look over their shoulders in consternation every time.
"Ye know, Etaio, some days, I dunno if it be a wise thing, lettin' them alone," one of the older men grumbled as he reached for a kettle to pour himself some coffee.
Etaio smirked. "Ye said that every night until I done welcomed them in wi' open arms." The clan leader snorted as he poked the logs, rearranging them to burn better. "Ye learned a lot 'bout mending socks that night, as I recall."
"I dinna want t'learn darnin' damnit!" The other men laughed at the comment, then they laughed harder when the speaker flushed under his dark tan. He held up a large, meaty hand. "Kept stickin' m'fingers wi' th' needle, too. Damned things be too tiny fer me."
"An' that's why we appreciate our women, 'cause they be better at some things. Best t'let 'em take care o' things 'round th'camp, and we take care of other things." Etaio leaned back and whistled sharply. "Ye just are dreadin' them pickin' a wife fer ye." He thumped the other man's shoulder with sympathy. "Don't ye worry none 'bout it. 'Less ye piss 'em off, ye won't end up wi' no shrew of a woman." Firelight glinted off his teeth as he gave a roguish smile to the young woman carrying a wine skin, making her rounds to the various clusters of the clan, filling their cups. "Ain't that right, Darla?"
The woman grinned at the gypsy leader, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Ye make it sound like a shrewd woman be a bad thing, Papa. Ye want I should tell Mama?"
He snorted and looked at the others, holding both hands towards Darla dramatically. "Ye see what I mean? I did piss off th' women when I was but a sweet, innocent lad, and now I gots three daughters just like their mother."
Darla snorted as the men laughed. "Mama says there ain't no such thing as a sweet, innocent man in th' clans. Ye all be naughty rogues getting' inta nothin' but trouble." She smiled and leaned down to kiss his cheek as he made a show of being grumpy and crossing his arms with a grunt. His moment of dourness passed as he grinned back at the girl, holding his cup to her as she filled it generously.
"Etaio! Etaio!" The caravan elders looked towards the youth who ran up with wide eyes. He skidded to a stop, leaning on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, his youthful face flushed.
"What be eatin' ye, Sansi?" Etaio asked as he sat up to stretch. The young woman continued to make her way around and to fill the assorted empty cups held out, returning comments made to her with sharp ones of her own, laughter following in her wake.
"There be a fight down at th' piers! A huge one!" the excited boy said, gesturing wildly for them to go. "Hurry! You must come!"
"Be it a gypsy in th' fight?" Etaio asked in bland tones as he lowered his cup, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
"No, but—"
The caravan leader waved a dismissive hand as he took another long swallow from his cup. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, regarding the boy. "Then it ain't be none of our business t' worry 'bout, Sansi. Ye know this. Th' city guard don't like us t'start with, an' we don't need t' give 'em any excuses t'blame us fer nothin'."
Sansi's eyes widened. "But—"
Etaio scowled, grabbing the front of the boy's shirt as he stood. Jerking him forward, he growled, "I tol' ye it ain't be none of our—"
"But there be Desanti on th' pier, Etaio! Five of 'em! Bunch of the dock rats b
e tryin' t' take 'em."
The rage drained away in shock as the others jump to their feet. "Desanti?! Why dinna ye say so in th' first place!" Calling out to the camp, men of all ages poured out of tents and wagons, grabbing up weapons and tossing them to those waiting outside, all heading towards the piers at a dead run."
Sansi waited until they were well out of ear shot before he put his hands on his hips. "I tried t' tell ye!" Darla chuckled, patting his shoulder before turning to start straightening out the fire circle. He grumped, crossing his arms for a moment before he turned to help her.
Chapter 21
Chaos greeted the gypsies when they arrived at the docks. Fighting had spread as people attacked those emerging from buildings when they could not reach the heart of the fighting nearer the ships. Dodging the myriad of skirmishes, the gypies finally got close enough to see the heart of the battle.
Protecting a serene, veiled woman who stood in the face of chaos, four desert warriors faced a motely group of thugs four times their number. While the Desanti were faster than the brute thuggery trying to surround them, the sheer numbers of opponents and a perplexing aversion to outright slaying anyone hampered the four warriors. Not a single death could be confirmed, but injuries were aplenty.
One of the men by Etaio looked over his shoulder and grunted. "It's gonna get messy real soon, Etaio. Th' guard be comin'."
The gypsy leader grimaced a bit. "Toss 'em in the drink, boys!" he called out. "An' don't get close enough t' them Desanti for 'em t' cut ye!"
Etaio and another gypsy came up behind a large man, each grabbing a shoulder to haul him backwards. The inarticulate shout of surprise turned to fury as the bull of a man tried to charge his two wiry built attackers. They dodged, flanking the man. Thus distracted, they drew him away from the others.
