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The morning before Hubley’s tenth birthday, Ferris woke alone. She wasn’t surprised. More and more, Reiffen’s nightmares were proving too much for him to sleep. Often he preferred not to take the chance of dreaming at all and worked till dawn instead. Only when she slipped out from under the quilt and saw him standing by the window did she realize this time he had at least come back to their bedroom and tried.
“I wish you’d take that tonic I mixed for you,” she said. “I’m sure it would help.”
“And leave me groggy all day,” he grumbled. “Fornoch would like that.”
Knowing it was always best to curb his black moods early, Ferris threw a shawl over her shoulders and joined him, her bare feet flinching on the cold stone floor. Outside, a hard gray sky capped the woods beyond the castle, the trees waiting patiently for their last leaves to fall.
“You’ll be just as groggy if you don’t sleep,” she said.
“Perhaps. But there are potions for that too. Fornoch needs neither. No doubt he is outside the walls right now, waiting for me to let down my guard.”
Ferris pursed her lips. Patience had never been her strong suit, but she was getting better. Reiffen, however, was getting worse. Ten years ago his worry had been a vague unease. Now he was obsessed.
Hugging him from behind, she savored the smell of magic and last night’s mutton on his clothes. “Trier and I can protect Hubley,” she offered. “It doesn’t have to just be you.”
His back stiffened. “You’re wrong. It does have to be me. Do you really think you and Trier have the strength to fight a Wizard?”
“I don’t see why not. I’ve been studying magic for longer than you did before you fought Usseis. And Trier will be the king’s mage in another two months.”
He turned to face her, his tone both patronizing and hard. “You know better than anyone that each year I spent in Ussene was worth five here in Grangore. Did we not agree to keep the worst of what I learned hidden, even from you? That it wasn’t worth the cost?”
“Yes. But really, Reiffen, it’s been ten years. Don’t you think, if Fornoch wanted to take Hubley, he’d have already tried?”
His jaw trembled. “Why can’t you trust me on this? Don’t you think I know Fornoch’s mind better than anyone? Our daughter is a far greater prize to him than I ever was, especially if Brizen and Wellin remain childless. As my daughter, she is the natural heir. But the Wizard won’t even bother to try and take her if he thinks he’ll fail. Which means we may never see him at all, if I can just keep her safe till she knows enough magic to protect herself. But that doesn’t mean we should not be prepared.”
Ferris didn’t argue. It wasn’t that she disagreed with Reiffen about the danger the Wizard represented, but rather that she wished he’d be easier on himself. Despite what he claimed, her husband wasn’t the only person who could protect Hubley. Though she might not know the most terrible kinds of magic, Ferris knew enough to be able to grab their daughter and flee if the Wizard ever came close.
“You’re right,” she said. Still trying to soothe him, she straightened the collar on his jacket. “It is too early to relax our guard. But will you at least promise me you’ll try to be in a good mood for the party tomorrow?”
“I will be as sprightly as Plum.”
“It might help if you took a nap.”
He shrugged, and went back to his brooding. A little hurt, but used to her suggestions being ignored, Ferris let him go. Reiffen was never going to stop worrying about Hubley until their daughter’s magic was as strong as his. And maybe not then, either.
Even without the added burden of her husband’s gloom, Ferris had a long day ahead of her. The king wouldn’t be arriving till tomorrow, but many of the other guests were already present, and the queen was coming that afternoon. Wellin hadn’t said a word on the subject, but Ferris was certain she intended to take advantage of the king’s absence for another private consultation. She and Ferris had kept the first examination secret, and Ferris guessed Wellin would want to keep this visit quiet too. Ferris’s news was good, for Wellin at least, but she wasn’t at all sure how the queen was going to react when she told her.
Like most magic travelers to Castle Grangore, the queen arrived at the top of the Magicians’ Tower. One moment nothing was there; the next four women had joined the small crowd awaiting their arrival: Wellin, gorgeous in a dark green traveling costume, two of her ladies with half a dozen pieces of luggage around them, and Trier.
“Are we there yet?” demanded an impatient voice from somewhere on the queen’s person. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I really can’t tell that sort of thing myself.”
“You brought Durk!” cried Hubley. Letting go her mother’s hand, she rushed forward to greet Her Majesty. The queen handed over the small string bag that served as the talking rock’s personal dispatch pouch.
“Of course she brought me,” said the stone. “How else was I going to get here?”
“Usually you come with Avender.”
“Avender’s on official business which has very likely taken him underground. Have I told you, child, how much I detest the Underground?”
Lady Breeanna bustled forward to join the new arrivals. “I know just how you feel, Durk. My own adventures in the Stoneways were quite difficult. There was nothing to eat, and poor Marietta was scared to death, and of course there was my own delicate condition to consider...”
Wilbrim stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried desperately not to be noticed.
“Hubley.” Giserre attempted to pry her granddaughter away from the queen. “You do remember what I told you this morning about being more respectful of Her Majesty.”
Wellin hugged the child tighter and laughed. “Let her play, Giserre. Please. I get little enough of such joy at home.”
Pressing her cheek against the queen’s, Hubley beamed. Ferris, thinking about what she had to tell the queen, sighed.
An hour later, Wellin appeared in the surgery as Hubley was handing a jar of ointment to the last of the day’s patients. The goodwife nearly had a relapse when she came face-to-face with Her Majesty, but Hubley managed to hustle the woman off while her heart was still beating.
Left alone, the two friends sat by the garden window. A few hardy pansies blushed pink and purple from a box on the sill. Wellin, despite changing into casual clothes, still easily outshone them, and the dark red roses climbing the trellis on the side of the Magicians’ Tower. Despite her own agelessness, Ferris knew she was unlikely ever to equal Wellin in beauty, even after the queen had aged another forty years.
“Avender’s arriving this afternoon,” she began.
“Is he?” Helping herself to an apple from the basket on the table, the queen began to peel it. “I was wondering whether he would make the party at all. The last Brizen and I heard, he was still in the Pearl Islands.”
“He’s coming by way of Bryddlough. Apparently the Dwarves cut a new way up to the islands, though it’s still a secret. I think they’re interested in the pearls. Anyway, Dwvon sent word yesterday that Avender had arrived in Issinlough by airship.”
Wellin looked up from her apple, golden peel dangling like a loose lock of her hair. “He still has to ascend the Sun Road, doesn’t he? The trip takes three days.”
“Not any more. Gammit finally finished the last of the new lifts. Nolo and Dwvon took the first run two days ago, and are coming back tomorrow. Now anyone can make the trip to Issinlough in hours instead of days.”
“Perhaps that will inspire Reiffen to finish those traveling mirrors he keeps talking about, so the trip from Malmoret will be just as easy. That would make our consultations much more convenient.”
Ferris caught the shift in the queen’s tone. “Are you ready to hear what I’ve learned?” she asked. Wellin nodded. “The tests we did in Malmoret came out just as I thought. If there’s a problem, it’s with Brizen, not you. You could have a child any time.”
She watched her friend carefully, but the queen showed no reaction to what she had said. Perhaps she’d been wrong about Wellin’s intent.
“There is no doubt?”
“None.”
The queen glanced at the window. “Are we alone? Though my experience is limited, I have heard that it is the littlest pitchers who have the largest ears.”
“I can take care of that easily enough.” Ferris held up her hands, palms facing window and door. “Let no ear our speaking hear.”
The room looked and felt no different, but magic would be needed now if anyone wanted to listen in on what the queen had to say. “That was one of the first spells I made up on my own,” Ferris confessed. “Little pitchers do have big ears and our Hubley has the biggest of all.”
“She is a wonderful child.”
“You’d sing a different tune if you had her for a month.”
Wellin dropped her apple and laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “What a brilliant idea. Do let me take her, Ferris. For a week, even.”
Ferris wished she could say yes. The queen’s need was palpable, like a new leaf’s for the sun.
“You know Reiffen would never allow it, Wellin. He won’t even let her visit Valing any more unless all three of us go.”
“Does he think Brizen and I cannot protect her? Perhaps if we persuaded Findle to join us. Fornoch would not dare attempt anything with a wizard-slayer standing guard.”
No matter how fond she was of Wellin, Ferris knew she had to be firm. The queen was too adept at getting her own way. “If it were just me, it would be fine, even without Findle. But it’s what Reiffen thinks that matters. He wouldn’t even let us visit Valing this summer—Hern and Berrel were terribly upset.”
“The New Palace is much safer than Valing Manor.”
Ferris shook her head. “It’s not guards that keep Castle Grangore safe. It’s magic. Wards and alarms cover every inch of the house and walls. Even I don’t understand half of them, and Reiffen puts new ones up all the time.”
“Surely he could cast the same sorts of protection on the palace.”
“Someone would have to be there to monitor them. Which is why Hubley can’t go anywhere without us.”
With a thoughtful air, the queen began slicing her apple. “Though I do not agree with him, I suppose we must respect Reiffen’s thinking in this matter. Without his sacrifice, we would all be dead or slaves. But it is your sacrifice as well, Ferris. And Hubley’s. All of us understand it. Reiffen becomes more difficult every day.”
Ferris brushed aside the queen’s concern. “It’s no sacrifice for me. He’s the one with the nightmares. Even I don’t know everything that happened to him in Ussene. And I don’t want to, either. The least we can do is try and make it easier for him. Though sometimes he’s so obtuse I think all he really needs is a good whack on the head. That’s what Avender was always so good at. Telling Reiffen when he was wrong.”
Setting down her knife, the queen picked up a slice of fruit. “Avender is good at many things, which is part of what makes him such a favorite in Malmoret. Especially since he rarely asks for anything in return.”
“I imagine Baroness Tregillis would disagree with you about that.”
Wellin laughed, her tone implying she didn’t see anything at all wrong with Avender’s, or the baroness’s, behavior. “Oh, that was over after the ball. Now it’s Amalla Vensey.”
“The merchant’s widow? Well that’s an improvement. A lovely woman. I tried to help her husband, but he was too far gone by the time I was called in to be of any use.”
“It was a pity when Maschel died. He used to throw the most wonderful parties. But now that his wife is on a budget, evenings at the Villa Vensey are more subdued.”
“Do you think there’s any chance Avender might actually settle down this time? I did hope something might come of him and Pattis. But I guess that’s impossible now she’s engaged to Duke Aramoor.”
“Pattis was never in the race.” Wellin nibbled at her slice of apple. “A man of Avender’s experience requires something more than youth and innocence. Pattis adored him, but Avender was far too much of a gentleman to take advantage of her.”
“Well, he’d better make up his mind soon. Hern and Berrel won’t wait forever.” It was an open secret the only reason Ferris’s parents hadn’t retired was because they were hoping Avender would find a wife and succeed them. Only a married couple could run for steward in Valing, the idea being that what worked best for a household ought to work best for the entire valley as well. “And he’d better find someone young, too, if he wants children. Amalla has three of her own already, and may be too old for more.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, Ferris knew she had said the wrong thing. The queen’s forehead clouded. Leaning forward, she fixed her friend with her warm brown eyes.
“Ferris,” she said. “I would do anything for a child before I grow too old as well.”
It was the confession Ferris had been expecting ever since she had told the queen her news. All the same, she was surprised to finally hear it. “Anything?” she asked.
“Anything,” the queen repeated, her purpose as fixed as her sadness.
Ferris refused to believe it. “That’s ridiculous. Think of the consequences.”
“I have, ever since you first suggested I might not be the problem. Brizen has never said a word, but I know how unhappy he is. How I have let him down.”
“That’s just it. Now we know you’re not the one letting him down.”
“That is not how the world will ever see it.”
Ferris was out of her seat with her arm around her friend’s shoulder in an instant.
“Look at you,” she said. Carefully she tucked a contrary lock of the queen’s perfect hair back into place. “Look how much even thinking this sort of thing has upset you. You love Brizen. It’s obvious. You know you can’t do this.”
“But I want a child so much.” Wellin’s lower lip trembled in a way that reminded Ferris of her daughter. “Everyone else gets one. Why should I be cursed?”
“You’re not cursed. Why, one of the best women I ever knew never had children. She was always happiest when Avender, Reiffen, and I came to visit – she always had a treat for us, candy or a bit of pie. Avender and Reiffen abused her terribly.”
“That is the last thing I want.” Sitting up, the queen dabbed gently at her eyes. “Everyone pitying me. I should prefer to chance anything than end up like the woman you describe.”
“You know you don’t mean that.”
“Do I not? Why, I think Brizen would probably forgive me if he ever found out.”
“Hmph.” Ferris had hardly expected Wellin to take that particular tack. But she seemed to have made up her mind. Ferris straightened the folds of her skirt. “That sounds too noble even for him.”
“It is certainly not something I wish to test him on.”
“All the more reason not to do what you’re thinking. It’s not right.”
“Even if my providing a proper heir might prevent the sort of civil war that always follows a questionable succession?”
“Yes.”
Wellin laughed sourly. “If I did not know you so well, I might believe the fact that Hubley is next in line colors your opinion.”
Ferris held her temper, but her face hardened. Wellin’s insinuation had cut more deeply than she would have supposed. “You know perfectly well Reiffen and I don’t want Hubley to be queen.”
“So you say. But her reign would be long and trouble free. Perhaps she would found a dynasty of mages to rule Banking and Wayland in peace and harmony for a thousand years. While my own line runs dry as the western waste.”
“Stop it.” Ferris held Wellin tightly by the arms. “Don’t torment yourself like this. It’s horrible. Reiffen and I have told you often enough Hubley can’t be Brizen’s heir. Some day she’s going to have her own Living Stone. We’re both afraid, if she’s a queen as well as a magician, she’ll never give it up. The temptation will be too great.”
Wellin’s eyebrows lifted. “Her own Stone? Where will you get it?”
“You’re forgetting Giserre gave hers up after Hubley was born. Reiffen and I aren’t going to keep ours forever, either. That way there’ll be Stones for our other children, too.”
“You have talked about other children for years.”
“And meant it, too. But it won’t be long now. Hubley will get her own thimble in a year or two. She’ll be a lot safer then. And I’ll be able to remove my stone and have another child.”
“And Reiffen?”
Ferris leaned back in her chair. “He knows what I want.”
“That is not what I meant. Will Reiffen also be willing to give up his Stone?”
“He’s always said he would.”
The queen measured her friend with a long, probing look. When she spoke, the spite in her voice had been replaced by weariness.
“For your sake,” she said, “I hope you stick with your choice. I had hoped you might talk me out of mine. It seems, however, that I am not as strong as you. Just as I would doubt my own ability to give up the treasure you seem so determined to throw off, so am I also unable to deny myself the prize you love so dearly. I am sorry if you think the less of me for it. But this is something I must do. And though I pray Brizen never learns what I intend, I still believe he would understand. As he would most likely understand should you, or Reiffen, find you lack the strength to give up your Living Stones.”
They talked some more, but both women were uncomfortable after what Wellin had confessed, so the queen soon left. Ferris had grave doubts about her friend’s choice, and thought less of her for having made it, though she had half-expected something of the sort. Wellin was too used to having her own way. Not in the manner of a selfish child, for Wellin had worked hard to gain her rewards. And she would work hard to gain this prize too. But at what cost? Did the queen fully understand the shame that would follow if her falseness were discovered? And what of the man involved? Whom would Wellin trust to keep such a secret, especially if his child ascended the throne?
To the last question, at least, Ferris was fairly sure she knew the answer.
***
Supper was already on the table by the time Avender and Nolo arrived. As Ferris had told Wellin, the new lifts made the journey from Issinlough to the surface last no longer than an afternoon. Gammit and the other Dwarves had built three, the first stopping at the road to Cammas, and the second at the Axe and Ruby and the entrance to the Upper Mines.
Without the lifts, or the airship that had carried him from the Pearl Islands to Issinlough, Avender would never have reached Castle Grangore in time for Hubley’s party. Now he was a day early, a day to be savored as much as any other spent outside Malmoret. Though Ferris and Reiffen sometimes snapped at one another in ways Avender had never expected, he still enjoyed the time he spent in Castle Grangore almost as much as he enjoyed Valing. But he didn’t get to Valing much any more, so Ferris’s and Reiffen’s home had to do instead.
It was a cheerful meal. Hubley sat at the queen’s right, and Wellin was delighted to forego the formality of the New Palace for the easy grace of Castle Grangore. Even Reiffen appeared to forget his worries long enough to relax with the wine and laughter. At the bottom of the table, the younger apprentices played small pranks on one another with whispered spells, Ferris only interfering when young Baron Backford’s steadily growing hair seemed in danger of catching fire from the oil lamp overhead.
When Hubley finally fell asleep on the window seat, her shoes kicked off and her bare feet tucked up beneath her dress, it was her father who carried her off to bed. Ferris remained with their guests, but the easy mood had left with the child. Giserre and the stewards followed soon after, then Wellin with her ladies-in-waiting. Ferris chatted with Avender for a while, much more interested in the latest gossip from Malmoret than usual for her, before she finally called it an evening as well. By the time Avender left, only Lady Breeanna and her son were listening to Durk describe his latest theatrical triumph. Having actually attended the performance, which had consisted of Durk voicing all the parts while the human actors pantomimed the action on the stage, Avender had no desire to hear any of it again.
Not quite ready for bed, he took a turn around the courtyard, then ascended to the roof of the Apprentices’ Tower. As usual, being so close to the queen had left him restless, but at least she appeared to be in better spirits than she’d been in some time. It was Hubley’s doing, of course. If Hubley brought out the queen’s loneliness and loss more than any other child, she brought out more joy as well. It really was a pity so lovely and loving a woman, who had everything else in life, had been frustrated in her quest for the most precious, and most common, prize of all.
Footsteps scuffed softly on the stair behind him. Expecting Plum or one of the other apprentice’s to be sneaking up to the roof for some last trick, he was surprised by the sight of the queen.
“Your Highness,” he said. The shadows shifted as he bowed.
“Stop it,” she answered. “I have not come up here to renew the formality we left behind in Malmoret.”
She joined him by the wall, a dark cloak fastened close around her neck to keep off the night’s chill. Together they watched the twin points of the quartered moon shred the clouds in the mountain sky.
“How fared your embassy to the islands?” she asked, when Avender didn’t speak.
“The headman sent a gift. I’ll give it to Brizen tomorrow so he can present it to you. Another fine pearl necklace. Pink, this time. I told old Tuatu you had white and black and gray, but no pink.”
“Most men do not remember such things. Even Brizen might not be able to list the number and color of my necklaces.”
“Yes he would.” Avender leaned forward to escape the temptation of the woman’s scent. Not of her perfume, which was as delicate as uncut roses, but of the woman herself, a richness of skin and hair at the end of the day. A fragrance that would linger on her pillow in the morning and fill the sheets at night. “Brizen’s not the sort to forget small things. Especially about you.”
The queen leaned against the wall beside him. Moon-fair hair floated around her face. “Sometimes he remembers. Sometimes he does not. I suppose he is like most husbands in that. Though, in his defense, he does have more on his mind than most.”
“I don’t know much about being a husband.”
“I suppose not. The passion of courtship is quite different from that of marriage.”
Avender chose not to respond to the discontent hinted at in the queen’s tone. “Everyone knows that,” he said instead. “Everyone knows a married couple is different after ten years than they were as brand-new lovers.”
“If you know so little about being a husband, perhaps I should ask your opinion on the latter. You are the expert, after all.”
This time there was no way of avoiding her obvious irritation. “Is something bothering you?” he asked.
Instead of answering his question, Wellin asked one of her own. Her brown eyes deepened in the darkness even as the moonlight silvered her hair.
“Have you ever gotten over losing Ferris?”
Avender laughed. It never occurred to him the queen might have missed the mark deliberately. “Ferris? I got over Ferris long ago. She was never mine to lose. Even when I thought I was in love with her I knew it was impossible. She loved Reiffen from the moment she was old enough to fall in love, even when she was trying to persuade herself otherwise.”
“Perhaps you pine for someone else, the way you once did for her. Really, Avender, you are not so inscrutable as you think. You are exactly the sort of man to fall deeply in love. I can only suppose, if that has not happened with any of your widows and other men’s wives, then you must be in love with another woman entirely. The way you once were with Ferris.”
In for a pennyweight, in for a pound, Avender told himself. “And who might that be, Your Majesty?”
“I believe we both know the answer to that. Though, of course, it helps your cause not at all when you insist on addressing me so formally.”
Avender’s heart began to pound, though more from panic than excitement. “My formality, Your Majesty, is the only protection I have.”
“How much better would it be,” she answered, “if it turned out you need no protection at all?”
Twisting away, she gazed at Ivismundra. The moon had slid down the mountain’s northern slope and was about to disappear behind neighboring Aloslocin’s gentle shoulder. Knowing it would be easier to read the waning disc’s face than the queen’s, Avender wondered if Wellin was playing with him deliberately, the way she had played with him years ago in order to make Brizen jealous. He had sensed, sometimes, that Wellin wasn’t entirely satisfied with her marriage. She and Brizen were not the most demonstrative couple he had ever seen. But he had never supposed Wellin to be the sort of person who might do something about her dissatisfaction, no matter how much he might have dreamed she was.
“Have you ever considered you might not be the only person who’s lonely?” she asked, interrupting his silence once more.
“What I might consider, and what I let myself consider, are too very different things, Your Majesty.”
“If you call me ‘Your Majesty’ one more time, I swear I shall strike you.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
She raised her hand. For the first time he saw her expression despite the darkness. Her nose flared; her mouth pursed tight as the seams in her finest gown. Avender thought about kissing her, but couldn’t make up his mind. Passion was all very well, but what the queen was offering went well beyond passion. If they were caught, the repercussions would be swift, and involve more than just the two of them.
Wellin lowered her hand. “It is not fair if you do not fight back. And I was hoping you would do something else.”
“Perhaps I will. But I have to be certain you know your own mind. I can’t say I’ve never dreamed of a moment like this, but, if it is going to happen, I want to make sure we both know what we’re doing.”
“I know what I am doing. I have thought about this a long time. I do not imagine we shall have many opportunities. Certainly not in Malmoret.”
“No,” Avender agreed. “That would be too dangerous.”
“But there are other places. This is probably the best of them. We may not have another chance again soon.”
“Would that bother you?”
“Yes.”
He kissed her then, and knew he should have kissed her before. Her mouth fit his own perfectly. When the kiss was exhausted, she fell against him, unwilling to let go.
“We cannot go to my room,” she whispered. The night leaned in closely around them. “My ladies would hear.”
“Mine’s just as bad. Both Reiffen and Ferris think they can barge in on me any time they want.”
The queen looked down at the wall. Avender felt her reluctance to leave through the wrapping of their cloaks.
“Don’t worry.” He kissed her forehead and hair. “Hern told me she made up more beds than were needed. There are several empty rooms near mine.”
Taking the queen’s hand, he guided her down the stairwell. His heart still pounded; he found it hard to breathe. When Wellin squeezed his fingers at the first lamp, he stopped and drew her to him. Some time passed before they broke apart. On the floor above his own they slipped quietly into an empty room. A startled dove beat its wings in the window and flew away.
Later, in the darkness, Wellin held him tightly. “I’ve dreamed of this,” she murmured.
“So have I,” he answered drowsily.
“If you asked me to run away with you, I would.”
“Would you? But you know I won’t ask. It would hurt too many other people.”
“I know.” She snuggled closer to his chest. “That is why I love you.” Her hand stroked the soft muscle of his belly. “I wish I knew when we will be able to do this again.”
“I’ll be miserable till we can.”
But Wellin hadn’t become queen because of her love of pleasure. With an effort she pushed him across the bed and sat up. Running his hand gently along her spine, Avender admired the curve of her back. He didn’t understand how he could think she was more beautiful than he had thought an hour before, but he did.
Quickly she pulled on her robe and cloak. “Can you make the bed?” she asked as he watched from the pale sheets.
“Of course. Hern taught me. I can sweep, and sew, and wash clothes in a tub.”
Wellin laughed. “A fine hero you are.”
He remembered the way she had laughed the first time they met. Rich and knowing, and full of promise. Glad she’d finally kept her pledge, he grabbed a corner of her cloak and pulled her back under the covers.
The next time she got up she was insistent. Together they made the bed before Wellin slipped out into the passage. The queen might make any excuse she wanted for wandering the halls of Castle Grangore at night, as long as she wandered them alone. They kissed. Avender watched her disappear down the stair.
When enough time had passed that no one would connect his wandering with the queen’s, he returned to his room. He missed her already. For the first time in his life he wished he knew magic. With a traveling spell he might visit Wellin whenever he wanted. The invisibility spell Reiffen had cast on him in Rimwich might prove useful to.
He shook his head. A fine night he was having. First he cuckolded one of his closest friends, and now he was thinking of taking up magic. Perhaps he should just chuck his life so far, turn buccaneer, and take what he wanted from the world.
He knew if he could cast the traveling spell, he’d be in Wellin’s bedroom right now. And every other night she was alone. Neither of them were going to be satisfied with meeting in secret once or twice a year.
He felt no different when he woke, even though his head had finally caught up with his heart. But Brizen was arriving that morning, and their lives were going to be difficult now, even when the king wasn’t around.
He would have to leave Malmoret, of course. There was no way he could possibly serve Brizen any longer. Short of dying for him, there was nothing Avender could ever do to atone, and even dying would only end his own feeling of guilt. The shame of what he and Wellin had done would never fade. The selfish path he had chosen after she rejected him years ago had been bound to lead to something like this eventually. A challenge, or a gang of street toughs falling on him during the night with knives. Or, what was most likely now, a good man suffering in silence.
Before anything else, he had to get through the day. Luckily they were not in Malmoret, where business would have kept him at the king’s side all morning and afternoon. Here at least everyone’s attention would be focused on Hubley. He could hide behind that.
It would be worse for Wellin, he realized, and the thought shamed him even more.
Dressing, he went down to breakfast long before the sun cleared the mountains. Though none of their other guests were up, Ferris and Hern were already busy in the kitchen. They fed him cornbread with honey, and eggs and bacon. When they asked why he was up so early, he told them he was still too used to traveling to sleep late.
Later he encountered Wellin strolling with her ladies in the garden. She bowed and spoke easily to him, as if nothing had happened. Other women he had known would never have carried it off so well. He found he was able to laugh and smile too, his own practice in this sort of situation helping him a great deal, even with a woman he adored.
Habit carried him through with the king also, though this time he couldn’t help but feel his shame was plain to all. And Ferris was watching him like a hawk, almost as if she knew. Ordinarily he would have said that was impossible, but in Castle Grangore he knew better. With magic, anything was possible. He would have to be more on his guard than he ever had before.
At least it was a busy day. With no formal duties, Avender followed his original intent and kept to the background as much as possible. The worst moment was when Hubley insisted he and the queen sit on either side of her at lunch, but everyone’s attention remained on the child. All Avender had to do was smile and make a fuss, like everyone else.
Hubley sniffed as they all sat down at a long table in the garden and pretended not to care that the Shaper hadn’t shown up this year either. “Wait till Redburr sees what I do to him the next time he comes to visit. I’m going to transform every jar of honey in the castle into glue, only I’ll make it so they still smell like honey. The first bite he takes, he’s going to get stuck. He won’t be able to unstick, either, until I release the spell.”
“He should have known better,” agreed Lady Breeanna.
Despite his discomfort, Avender found the child’s good humor catching. In some ways she was more spoiled than her father had ever been; at least Reiffen’s high opinion of himself as a child had been tempered by the knowledge that he was a guest in Valing. For Hubley, however, everything was as it was supposed to be, with the result that, unlike her father, she had no chip on her shoulder and nothing to prove. Everyone, from Queen Wellin to the stable boys peeping in on the party from the hall, adored her.
“Your punishment might be a little harsh,” suggested the queen. “Perhaps the reason Redburr is not here is because he is involved in very important business.”
Hubley sipped at her lemonade. “What could be more important than my tenth birthday? Now I have two numbers to my age, just like everyone else. Besides, Father promised to teach me real spells when I’m ten. Traveling, and fireballs, and how to conjure cupcakes out of toadstools. All the important things.”
“Especially that last one,” called Plum from the bottom of the table.
“Conjuring cupcakes from toadstools is a key skill when you’re adventuring,” said Durk. “Especially underground.”
Hubley nodded solemnly. “I know. And then, when I’ve learned everything, that’s what Avender and I are going to do. Isn’t that right, Avender?”
Called upon to speak, Avender managed to smile and nod.
Hubley required nothing more. “And then we’re going to find the Gray Wizard and slay him, just like you did with Father and Mother, and then there will be nothing bad left in the whole world. I was going to invite Redburr to come with us, only now I’ve changed my mind.”
For luncheon they ate fresh noodles with butter and peas, and steamed crayfish from the Ambore. Hubley had a small cup of golden wine with her guests, but mostly she drank lemonade from the pitcher at her elbow so she never had to wait for the serving maid to refill her glass. Ferris and Giserre handed round a plate of fruit and cheese, then Hern emerged from the kitchen with a large tray of chocolate cupcakes, which Avender hoped were fresh baked rather than cast from toadstools.
After that it was time for presents. The apprentices went first, and for several minutes the garden was filled with every imaginable color and shape of bird and butterfly, and some flying creatures that existed only in the casters’ imaginations. Hubley clapped her hands at the sight of a long green and red striped snake flying through the air on three sets of wrens’ wings, and laughed at a pair of piglets who floated another foot off the grass every time they squealed. For the grand finale, Trier and Plum scooped all the strange creatures up in a pair of long butterfly nets and deposited them in a pile. Instead of magical creatures, a shower of small boxes poured out on the table. Gleefully, Hubley unwrapped each one to find a wonderful assortment of gifts: a silver thimble; several rolls of colored ribbon; a vial of sneezing powder; a pot of jellied spider’s eyes.
“Thank you all so much.” Standing, she dropped a curtsy.
“You’re welcome,” replied the grinning apprentices. “Soon you’ll be one of us.” Even Trier’s somber face lit up with a smile as bright as the butterfly spells she had just cast.
The rest of the presents were equally enchanting. From Nolo she received a trick box made of stone. Small enough to fit in her hand, the box was carved in loops and whorls. Certain loops, if pressed in the correct order, caused drawers to open from the box’s sides. Hubley memorized the order as soon as Nolo showed it to her, and opened the drawers for her parents. Uhle’s present lay inside, a pair of moonstones.
Streaks of tiny lightning flashed across each jewel’s milky surface as Hubley cupped them in her hands. “Just like yours, mother. Now I can play with them whenever I want.”
From Hern and Berrel she received a beautiful patchwork quilt, while Giserre gave her a lovely sweater. Avender’s gift was a set of tiny porcelain bowls he had purchased in Issinlough at the last minute, the perfect size for serving tea to Hubley’s dolls.
He kept his eyes on the queen’s gift rather than the queen as she handed it to Hubley, a lovely dress of green Dremen silk. “Just the thing for you to wear on your next visit to the palace,” said Wellin as Hubley held it up before her.
Lady Breeanna pushed Wilbrim forward, a long box in the young baron’s hands. “Try to pretend you like it,” he whispered as he handed it over. “Mother’s not used to buying gifts for girls.”
Opening the lid, Hubley found a long row of toy soldiers lying in soft cotton. Each one was a carefully painted Backford lancer, their faces different, their horses chestnut, white, and roan.
“Thank you, Lady Breeanna. And you, too, Willy. They’re perfect for the shelves in my room. They look far too delicate to play with.”
“How right you are.” Lady Breeanna’s voice boomed off the garden wall. “I cannot begin to tell you how many sets Wilbrim has gone through. The horses’ legs especially are prone to breaking.”
Replacing the lid, Hubley laid the box of soldiers on the table beside her other gifts. The only present left was her parents’. But her parents’ present was what everyone had come to see. What her mother and father gave Hubley was always the highlight of their daughter’s birthday—not only the gift itself, but the way it was given as well.
The ground trembled. Everyone looked nervously at their feet, even Nolo, whose legs were too short to reach the grass. Hubley peered under the table as a second tremor rolled in from the garden behind her, the ground rising and falling in a low wave.
“Oh my.” Hern held fast to her chair as it rocked up and down.
Nolo pointed toward the middle of the garden. “It’s coming from over there.”
Everyone craned around for a better look. A third wave rippled across the lawn, knocking the table and chairs about like boats in a harbor. Durk was shaken off his pillow in the middle of the table; Sandy retreated to the safety of the flagstones by the door as Hubley clapped her hands and laughed.
The ground bubbled; small clods of earth burst up from the grass and tumbled to the grass. A second spurt sent the dirt almost as high as Hubley was tall, and continued until it grew into a small black fountain at the center of the garden. Sod and soil showered down. With a loud crack, the bottom of the fountain split open and something more solid than dirt shot up through the middle, rising into the air. At first Avender thought it looked like one of the lances carried by Lady Breeanna’s tin soldiers but, as it kept growing, he saw it was a sapling. Three green leaves appeared at the tip even as the young tree thickened and stretched farther into the sky. The leaves grew also, broadening until they broke apart into new limbs and greenery.
The tree soared. Fresh branches sprouted from the rough brown bark, spreading beneath the crown. Soon it had turned into a full-grown tree, its wide branches shading the entire garden.
“It’s a chestnut!” Berrel exclaimed.
The leaves grew dark and thick, shutting out the sky. Bright green fruits appeared beneath them. A crack sounded from above, followed by the spatter of something falling quickly through the foliage. A large nut struck the ground. The mottled husk burst open; Avender’s nose twitched at the deep woodsy smell of drifting mast. Another nut fell, and this time he caught the green scent of wet bracken at the start of a fresh spring rain. Soon the air was filled with dull thuds as nut after nut hit the grass, the leaves pattering loudly. The smells of a forest deep in the Bavadars swept across the garden: a bluebird’s nest when the chicks have just hatched; fresh earth outside a badger’s den; henbite and buttercups blooming in a summer meadow.
The nuts stopped dropping; the leaves turned from green to yellow to brown. But then, instead of falling from the tree, they kept turning, the color draining out of them completely until they were as white as the pages of a book. Their veins showed dark and thin as print on paper.
A wind from the south snaked over the top of the castle wall. The tree rustled. The ground beneath it swelled. With a last heave like a boy spitting a melon seed, the earth shot the tree into the high blue sky. Light flooded back into the garden. The magic chestnut soared like an over-fletched arrow, spinning as it tore through the air.
At the top of its arc it exploded. Green rockets burst in all directions; spinners and crackers and whizzbangs flashed across the sky. The blasts thundered against the guests’ ears. The air hissed. Hubley clapped her hands over her head as a rain of cold green sparks erupted into small flame flowers wherever they touched the ground. For a moment the green expanse of the grass was turned into a field of jumbled tulips: reds and yellows, whites and purples. Quietly crackling, the flowers died. Nothing was left on the grass, not even the hole from the tree.
“What’s that?”
Wilbrim pointed at the sky. Something white twirled in the air near the top of the Magicians’ Tower. It descended slower than it should, as if the long blades spinning at the top were holding it up.
“What is it?” gasped Lady Breeanna.
“A rotor,” answered Nolo. “Grimble used to play with them before he built the Nightfish. I’ve never seen one anywhere else before.”
The rotor twirled down. As it came closer they saw something brown as bark attached to the bottom. Hubley reached up; the falling object settled into her hands. She grunted as she felt its weight, cradling it heavily. The rotor flopped to the grass, attached to the brown package by a length of string. Hastily Hubley tore the present open. Inside she found a heavy book with a red leather cover and letters of gleaming gold.
“What is it, dear?” asked Lady Breeanna. Avender’s chair creaked as she leaned over the back.
“A book.”
“We can see that. What’s the title?”
“Of The Nature and Manner of Things.” Hubley hefted the tome as if judging its purpose by its weight.
“It’s a grammarye,” said Plum.
“One of the few I took with me when I left Ussene,” said Reiffen.
“Now that you’re ten,” said Ferris, “you can start your official apprenticeship. What you’ve learned so far has just been play.”
Scratching his head, Berrel peered out at the empty garden and up at the sky. “But how’d you do it?” he asked. “There’s not a trace of the tree or the giant chestnuts anywhere.”
“All illusion, Dad,” laughed Ferris. “Not a bit of it real.”
“Even the waves in the ground? But we all felt them.”
“Feeling is believing,” Durk agreed.
“It’s an easy matter to shake tables and chairs,” explained Reiffen, “but the rotor and the book were real enough. I had one of the guards throw them off the top of the tower.” The magician looked up. A soldier waved down at the crowd.
“Very impressive,” said Nolo. “Especially the noise.”
Hubley had already opened her book’s first pages and was nosing through it for interesting spells. The rest of the party settled around the table, helping themselves to second cupcakes or wine. Only when a large crow settled in the middle, its wings knocking over cups and glasses as it pecked at the nearest piece of cake, did everyone realize Redburr had finally arrived.