Chapter 20:

Homecoming

*

Sedder had kept quiet for most of the trip from the Valley of Gal, and had been nearly silent since landing in Kalor again. Maybe if he didn’t say any­thing, people would forget who he’d worked for. But they didn’t forget. He could feel Haw­thorne’s eyes upon him when they parted ways at the edge of the Witch­­wood, but no one said any­thing then.

“You’re going to report back to him,” Silver said once they’d traveled a while. It wasn’t a ques­tion.

Sedder nodded tersely.

“You have to,” Silver said.

Sedder nodded again.

“I’m going with you,” Silver said.

Sedder stopped in his tracks and looked at him in sur­prise. “Silver?”

“It has to be done,” Silver said.

“I don’t under­stand,” Sedder said. “You wanted to avoid him. You wanted to avoid him so badly that you wouldn’t even let me speak his name.”

Silver was silent for a long moment. “You’ve been watching me for a long time. For him. I don’t know what you’ve told him. I can’t ­imag­ine you had any­thing ­in­ter­esting to tell him, regard­less. I came to Scalyr and drank. Every time I had an argument with my family, every time I could not handle what life threw at me, I went to Scalyr and drank. I’ve spent enough of my life try­ing to escape from things.”

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you,” Sedder said.

Silver shook his head. “It’s not im­por­tant. Not any longer. I’m not cer­tain that it was ever im­por­tant, truly. every­thing always seems insurmountable when you’re up close, right next to it. Sometimes all you really need is the perspective of dis­tance. Harsh words were spoken. I blamed him for things that, in hind­sight, in reason, were prob­ably not his fault in the first place. But it was too late. Some­thing had broken. Things could not go back to the way they were before.”

Sedder didn’t care to inter­rupt him. They’d both kept their secrets. Somehow, it hadn’t really seemed necessary to share them, for all that. Sedder had never been cer­tain that he’d actually wanted to know what had gone on between Silver and Sardill.

“He killed my wife,” Silver said, matter-of-factly, as if des­cribing the weather.

What?” Sedder exclaimed.

“Not dir­ectly,” Silver said quickly. “But still, he was responsible.”

“What— How can you just forgive some­one for some­thing like that?” Sedder asked.

“It was war, Sedder,” Silver said. “A war that my family and I should have never gotten our­selves involved in in the first place. It was not our fight. And if there can be no forgive­ness, over lifespans, over centuries, wounds are only left to fester with­out any true resolution.”

“But you’ve allowed this wound to fester,” Sedder said. “Whatever wound up happening between you after that.”

“He made an in­sen­sitive comment,” Silver said. “He assumed I did not love her. I loved her, very much so. But it was not an en­tirely unfair assump­tion. Many elves, after all, marry members of the opposite sex sim­ply for the purposes of pro­creation, and not out of any true affection.”

“This isn’t just about an in­sen­sitive comment, though,” Sedder said.

Silver paused, then shook his head. “You know what he’s like, I’m sure. He’s… over­bearing. He has to be in con­trol of every situation, even if he has to man­ip­ulate it with­out any­one knowing about it. And he’s very good at man­ip­ulation. You’re for­tunate that his man­ip­ulations of you were only in the most blatant, obvious sense. It took me far too long to realize how he was man­ip­ulating me and toying with my emotions.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Sedder asked. “You’re usually pretty quiet.”

“You should know,” Silver said. “You should know just what you are dealing with here. I’m worried for you. You got caught up in this situation with little choice on your part.”

“I know,” Sedder said quietly. “Believe me, I know. And I’m terrified. I do not want to be forced into doing some­thing I don’t want to do. And I don’t want to be forced to betray my friends.”

“That’s why I’m coming with you,” Silver said.

Sedder had no response to that.

*

The trip back to Ras­calanse might have been more quiet if it weren’t for Haw­thorne con­stantly chatting about any­thing and every­thing. Much to Keolah’s chagrin, she’d taken all the things that had happened since they’d left as one big ad­ven­ture. Kithere, for her part, just tried to ig­nore her and catch up with Keolah on any­thing that might have happened at home in the past three years.

Keolah sighed. “There really isn’t much to tell. Father still doesn’t like humans and kept try­ing to start things with the ones living nearby.”

“You’d think he’d be used to them by now,” Kithere said, raising an eye­brow. “They’ve been here longer than us.”

Keolah nodded. “All in all, the Riskel are peace­ful and friendly.”

“I don’t really have any­thing against humans,” Kithere said. “Does Father even realize that it was an elf who lead the bandits who captured me?”

“I doubt it,” Keolah said. “He didn’t even realize you were still alive. Mother was con­vinced you were, though.”

“More immediately, are you sure you know the way through this jungle?” Kithere asked.

Keolah paused. “Not really, no. I’m just aiming west and assuming we’ll hit the Thorn­delle moun­tains even­tually.”

“Couldn’t we have taken one of the main roads?” Kithere asked.

“We’d have had to have gone all the way around the moun­tains and south through Hlaya,” Delven said. “This is a short­cut, really.”

Kithere snorted softly. “Some short­cut. The road might have been longer, but it would have been quicker and easier to traverse.”

“You try arguing with Haw­thorne,” Delven commented.

Zen­dellor whickered in agree­ment.

Once they emerged from the jungle and into the foothills of the Thorn­delles, they proceeded to spend far too much time attemp­ting to locate the tunnel to Wish­ings­dale again.

“I’m sure the tunnel into Ras­calanse has to be some­where around there…” Haw­thorne said.

Keolah sighed. “At least I suppose we don’t really need to worry about any­one in­vading Ras­calanse from this dir­ec­tion. Not, mind you, that Hanna­derres is likely to in­vade Ras­calanse in the first place.”

“Let’s just go around already,” Kithere said.

“No, wait,” Haw­thorne said. “I think this area looks familiar. Yes! There’s one of my cairns.”

Now that they had their bearings, they headed up the trail markers and located the tunnel leading up into the moun­tains. They valley with the moun­tain fort seemed quiet at the moment, but they still gave it a wide berth after what they had dis­covered there last time they were up here.

“Can I just, like, hide behind the rest of you?” Haw­thorne asked as they descended the tunnel toward Wish­ings­dale.

“No,” Keolah said flatly.

“Damn,” Haw­thorne muttered.

She tried to hide behind them any­way. It seemed nothing of any noticeable difference had occurred in Wish­ings­dale while they’d been gone, and Keolah headed straight for the Chelseer Estate.

“Can’t we just stop at the inn, or keep going?” Haw­thorne whined. “Keeping going would be great.”

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” Kithere said.

Haw­thorne sighed. “Yes, I did. Still doesn’t mean that I really want to.”

They came up to the door to the Chelseer Estate, and the others stood aside and let Haw­thorne app­roach the door, ner­vously, hesitantly.

“I’m sure they’re not even home any­way,” Haw­thorne said.

“They’re home,” Keolah said flatly.

Steeling her­self, Haw­thorne touched the side of the door. The leaves slid aside to let them in.

“Who is there?” asked Dennole’s voice, app­roaching the en­trance to the house. She stopped in her tracks and caught her breath. “Lariole?”

“Hi, Mom,” Haw­thorne said sheepishly.

Dennole rushed up and caught Haw­thorne in a crushing hug.

“Well,” Haw­thorne said. “This is awk­ward.”

*

It had been a long time since Sedder had visited Castle Selnus, in the heart of Fly­land. It had to be done, though. As they traveled, he spared one wistful look down the side road leading south to Enten, the village where he’d grown up. Was his little brother married by now? Did he have young chil­dren of his own?

Contrary to what one might ­imag­ine from fanciful tales, Castle Selnus did not sit perched upon an ominous cliff, but in the midst of a fertile plain. The town of Selnus sprawled out out­side the castle walls, not a par­tic­ularly large settle­ment con­sidering it was the de facto capital of Fly­land, if only because Sardill lived here. The actual law­making and admin­istration took place in Starton, but every­one ultimately deferred to Sardill.

The guards at the castle gates took one look at them and nodded them through. Sedder prac­tically held his breath as he descended into the dim corridors of Sardill’s castle.

“Silver,” rasped Sardill’s voice.

Here, in the sanctuary of his castle, Sardill’s hood was drawn back, revealing a smooth, bald head of pasty, pale skin. Faintly glowing red eyes fixed them­selves on Silver with an un­readable ex­pression.

“Hello, Sardill,” Silver said quietly.

“Why— Why are you here?” Sardill asked, his eyes briefly flicking to Sedder’s presence, but most of his atten­tion was firmly upon Silver.

Silver tilted his head at Sardill. “Why should I not be?”

Sardill was silent for a long moment before finally turning to Sedder. “My instructions…”

“I was dis­covered and my mind crys­tal taken from me not far into the sea voyage,” Sedder said. “And dumped to the bottom of the ocean.”

Sardill scowled.

“You’ve been keeping an eye on me,” Silver said.

Sardill looked away. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“Why?” Silver asked.

Sardill didn’t answer.

“Sardill…” Silver said.

Sardill looked at him.

“You know it was over,” Silver said. “It was over a long time ago.”

“I know,” Sardill said quietly.

“Were you worried about me or some­thing?” Silver asked.

“What do you think?” Sardill said. “You drink your­self into a stupor every time you come near a tavern. You avoid me. You avoid your family.”

“Have you been watching my family, too?” Silver snapped.

“No,” Sardill said.

Sedder couldn’t believe some­one would be willing to talk to Sardill like that. He would have had to have taken leave of his senses and taken his life into his hands had he even so much as dared. But either Silver had no sense of self-preservation, or he knew Sardill would tolerate it of him. Possibly both.

“Sedder,” Sardill said suddenly. “Give me your report. What did you find?”

“I was there, too, you know,” Silver said.

“Yes,” Sardill said. “I know. I want to hear it from Sedder.”

Sedder swallowed hard. “A crew of sailors from Starton captured us and sold us into slavery to trolls. Upon our escape, we found a set of ancient magic books inside the tower at Kadabi-Gharatik.”

“Truly,” Sardill said.

“We traveled to the Valley of Gal, where we dis­covered a matching set in Mibian, while the first set was in Astanic.”

“Fascinating,” Sardill said. “And they are aware of who you were working for?”

“Yes,” Silver said flatly. “We made him tell us every­thing. Furthermore, some­thing he isn’t men­tioning here is that Haw­thorne forced him to swear an oath of loyalty not to betray her.”

“I was getting to that,” Sedder said.

Sardill scowled. “That is un­for­tunate.”

“Need­less to say,” Sedder said with a sigh, “I would prefer not to trigger that.”

Sardill nodded tersely. “And at this juncture, it would be impossible to ask you to remain undercover.”

“Obviously,” Silver said dryly. “I would prefer him not to be beholden to you at all.”

Sardill fixed Silver with his gaze. “Is that what you ex­pect of me?”

Sedder sighed. “Look. Silver. I appreciate what you’re try­ing to do for me, but it’s not like I have any par­tic­ular ob­jec­tion to working for him in general. He has given me quite a bit of magical training and asked very little of me.”

“Your loyalty is admirable,” Sardill said.

Silver folded his arms across his chest. “You will not do any­thing that could potentially cause conflict with Haw­thorne.”

“I will cancel his oath,” Sardill said.

“You can do that,” Sedder said flatly. “And you would still ex­pect me to betray her?”

“I will not ex­pect you to betray her at this time,” Sardill said. “But I would prefer to avoid any further un­for­tunate entanglements should you wind up doing any­thing that could be construed as such.”

“I’m standing right here,” Silver said.

“And what is your attachment to this woman?” Sardill asked.

“I’m going to sire her chil­dren,” Silver said.

“You,” Sardill said flatly.

“Yes,” Silver said.

Sedder hadn’t realized they’d finalized any such agree­ment, and could only assume that Silver was saying that in order to shock Sardill.

“You’re not marrying her,” Sardill said.

“I am not,” Silver said. “She’s been quite emphatic on that point and is only ­in­ter­ested in women.”

“Typical elf,” Sardill said. “She is an elf, is she not?”

“Yes,” Silver said.

“Silver,” Sardill said quietly. “Will you forgive me?”

Sedder did his best to try not to gape. Was Sardill seriously begging for forgiveness here?

Silver ran his fingers through his hair. “You know even if I give it to you, we’re still over.”

“I know,” Sardill said.

Sedder really wished at this point that he weren’t in the room. It was times like this that he felt like just making him­self invis­ible and slipping away, if he didn’t know per­fectly well that it would not help in any way what­so­ever. And what, he was still won­dering, exactly were Sardill’s plans for Dalizar? Tension thick as a foggy day on the docks, Sedder looked between the two of them as they awk­wardly avoided looking at one an­other. He had to say some­thing.

Sedder sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, both of you. I don’t know what in the Abyss went on between you or is going on between you. But you can’t con­tinue things like this, and you know it.”

Both of them turned to look at him, and he felt like he should have just kept his mouth shut and pretending not to be there rather than interfere with their… what­ever this was.

“You’re right,” Silver said.

Emboldened by Silver’s approval, Sedder went on, “I didn’t sign up for this to be a relationship counselor. That is way out­side of my job des­crip­tion. But… talk to each other. Just… talk.”

Sardill stared at him silently for a long moment, then nodded tersely. “Yes. Leave us.”

Sedder didn’t argue. He turned on his heel with­out an­other word and left the room. He headed out­side the castle for the nearest tavern. Now he needed a drink.

*

“Well,” Haw­thorne said as they left Wish­ings­dale. “That went better than ex­pected. But I’m still not going back to using my elf name.”

“Are you going to wish me luck on dealing with my own family?” Keolah said.

“Nope,” Haw­thorne said with a smirk.

“Thanks,” Keolah said dryly.

“What about me?” Kithere asked.

“You?” Haw­thorne said. “Yeah. You’re going to need luck just to con­vince your parents who in the Abyss you even are. Wouldn’t it have been a better idea to save that potion for after you got home?”

Kithere snickered. “Hey, to be fair, I didn’t even know whether or not it was going to do any­thing.”

“But it could have done any­thing,” Haw­thorne said. “What if your soul had decided that it was supposed to be, I don’t know, an ant or some­thing.”

“An ant?” Kithere repeated.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Haw­thorne said. “Did they ever actually make any assurance that you would have turned into an­other elvenoid?”

“Animals have diff­erent souls than elvenoids,” Keolah said quietly. “For the most part.” She glanced aside to Zen­dellor. “Shifters and other magical creatures being the notable excep­tion.”

“Magic ants,” Haw­thorne said. “You could have become a magic ant. Or one of those incestuous magic bees!”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Keolah said.

“I’m pretty sure that if, for some reason, I were meant to be an insect, I would have noticed by now,” Kithere said.

“How?” Haw­thorne asked.

“I might have felt like I had too few limbs or some­thing,” Kithere said. “I don’t know.”

“Or what if you’d turned into some­thing that needs to breathe water to live?” Haw­thorne asked.

“Your concern is appreciated, Haw­thorne, but I thought you were dating my little sis­ter, not me.”

“She’d be very upset if her big sis­ter had turned into a fish and suffocated,” Haw­thorne said. “Magic fish. Whichever.”

The buildings on the human side of Orden­burg slowly began to come into view through the trees. It was growing late by the time they arrived, and moths were fluttering around the gas lamps in the streets out­side the tavern and the shops that were closing for the night. They didn’t stop, though, and con­tinued on into the elven side of town, making for the Kedaire house.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Kithere said with a smile, going up to the door. “I hardly recog­nize the place any­more.” The door leaves parted, and Kithere headed inside first. “Father? Mother?” she called out.

Father came down the stairs and into the entryway, and froze in his tracks. “Who are you?”

“It’s me. Kithere.”

Father scowled. “Is this some sort of sick joke, or are you merely mad?”

“It’s really her, Father,” Keolah insisted. “She got turned into a dwarf,” and Keolah didn’t care to ex­plain how or why just now, “but she really is Kithere.”

Mother came up behind him, gazing over the group standing in the door with piercing silver eyes. “Welcome home.”

“Rez­aline?” Father said, turning to her. “This— this dwarf is claiming to be our deceased daugh­ter! This is an out­rage!”

Keolah clenched her fists, and took some deep breaths to avoid setting some­thing on fire.

“Open your eyes, love,” Mother said quietly.

“And how about your ears, too?” Kithere said. “My voice hasn’t changed. I don’t think any­one could readily fake that, barring magic. Or I could tell you some random child­hood anec­dotes if that would con­vince you?”

“Keolah could have told you those,” Father said.

“Listen,” Kithere said. “I was captured by an elf bandit by the name of Amberline, then sold into slavery to trolls. If it weren’t for Keolah and her com­panions, I might have never gotten free.”

“My daugh­ter is dead!” Father stormed back up the stairs.

Mother sighed and leaned down to hug Kithere. “I’m sorry about him, child.”

“I see he hasn’t changed a bit,” Keolah muttered.

“Don’t judge your father too harshly,” Mother said, then looked to Haw­thorne. “Now, tell me, who is this blue-haired beauty you’ve brought home?”

Keolah cleared her throat and blushed. Her mother was being polite, to be sure. Most wouldn’t con­sider Haw­thorne to be classically beaut­iful, physically speaking. “Mother, I’d like you to meet Haw­thorne Chelseer.”

“I see your father was wrong, and that you didn’t turn out to be ­in­ter­ested in human women after all,” Mother said with a touch of amusement.

“Well, I would hardly have ob­jected to a human woman had I met one I liked,” Keolah said hurriedly. “I’m not racist or any­thing.”

Kithere grumbled. “I ex­pected this might be difficult, but I’d hoped he would at least speak to me.”

“Kit, hon­estly, even if you came back here looking like an elf, I doubt he would have believed it was really you,” Keolah said with a sigh.

“I’m afraid Keolah prob­ably has the right of it, there,” Mother said.

Kithere groaned. “Seriously? Has he really been this bad?”

“He won’t even let any­one speak your name, for the most part,” Mother said.

“Why did I even come back here, again?” Kithere muttered. “I thought he’d be over­joyed to see me!”

“For what it’s worth, I am,” Mother said.

“Thanks, Mom,” Kithere said with a weak smile. “But maybe it would be best if we… don’t stay.”

Mother nodded. “Perhaps. You are always wel­come here, in my eyes.”

The group stayed at the Kedaire house that night, but Father refused to even be in the same room as Kithere, never mind acknow­ledge who she was. In frus­tration, they headed out the next day.

“I’d for­gotten how Father can be some­times,” Kithere said. “I suppose being away for so long colored my mem­ory of him.”

“So, you don’t want to stay in Orden­burg after all?” Keolah asked.

Kithere shook her head. “Hon­estly… there’s nothing here for me. It was nice seeing it again, though. Let’s go.”

“I’d think you’d be more upset about this,” Delven said.

“I am,” Kithere said. “But also not sur­prised at all.” She sighed. “Come on. Let’s meet back up with the others. With my friends.” She chuckled. “Even that stupid goblin.”

*

Silver came in behind Sedder in the tavern, but this time he didn’t order a drink.

“How’d you know where to find me?” Sedder asked.

“I had a hunch,” Silver said.

“How’d it go?” Sedder asked.

Silver didn’t answer. “He wants to see you now.”

Sedder nodded. “Right now, or can I finish my drink first?”

Silver chuckled. “I’m sure you can finish your drink.”

Sedder wasn’t so sure about that, but took an­other swig any­way. “Are you coming in with me this time?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Silver said. “I think I got my point across.” He paused. “Were you just try­ing to make it sound like you were happy with this arrange­ment while he was listening?”

Sedder shrugged. “It’s not like I’m ungrate­ful.”

“You didn’t answer the ques­tion,” Silver said.

“He has given me a lot,” Sedder said quietly.

“Fair enough,” Silver said. “But that’s still not an answer.”

“What do you want me to say?” Sedder muttered. “That I’m deathly afraid of him and shocked at the way you talked to him? That I’m never quite sure whether to feel grate­ful or trapped?”

“You shouldn’t have to feel that way,” Silver said. “He will man­ip­ulate you into feeling grate­ful by giving you things that cost him nothing to offer. He has barely shown you the tiniest frac­tion of what he can do with Illusion Magic. Insist upon more. You’ve done him a greater service than he can ­imag­ine.”

“You want me to…” Sedder trailed off.

“Be bold and stand up for your­self,” Silver said. “He is not nearly so terrifying as he makes him­self out to be.”

“He is… in­sanely powerful, though,” Sedder said. “He could destroy me on a whim.”

“I know,” Silver said. “But he won’t. Or he will answer to me.”

You’re not half as powerful as he is,” Sedder said.

“No, but he will listen to me,” Silver said.

Sedder finished his drink and set it aside. “Fine. I will ask him, then.” He rose to his feet and nodded to Silver in parting.

Silver’s words and assurances did not make him feel any more at ease as he returned to the castle. But he trusted Silver. Surely the man would not lead him astray.

“Sedder,” Sardill said as he returned.

“My lord,” Sedder said.

“I under­stand you have an oath you need dispelled,” Sardill said.

“Yes, my lord,” Sedder said.

“Sit,” Sardill said.

Sedder com­plied, somewhat uncom­fortably. At times like this, he wished he were a Seeker like Keolah, and could read just what Sardill was doing to him. He felt nothing, but he tried to stay still as Sardill gazed intently at him.

“Magical oaths are peculiar things,” Sardill said. “Only mages can give them, you know. When you swear by your magic, it isn’t the per­son you are swearing to that is binding you to it, but your own magic. This is why it’s impossible for most people to dispel them. It is hard for others to affect some­thing so tightly bound to your own soul.”

“But you can,” Sedder said.

“Yes,” Sardill said.

“And you could as readily have dispelled the one I made to you, as well,” Sedder said flatly.

“Yes,” Sardill said. “But it would not have been necessary. Had I sim­ply told you that I release you from your oath, your own magic would have responded to un­ravel it.”

“That is very peculiar magic,” Sedder said.

“It is old magic,” Sardill rep­lied. “Primal magic. It predates the League of Wizards, and any­thing res­em­bling our civ­il­ization. When people stumbled blindly in the dark, unable to under­stand their own powers.” He drew back. “It is done.”

“Thank you,” Sedder said. “Can you teach me more magic?”

Sardill cocked his bald head. “Did Silver put you up to this?”

“Yes,” Sedder admitted. “But it is a reason­able request.”

“It is,” Sardill agreed. “What do you wish to learn?”

“What do you know?” Sedder asked, al­though he immediately regretted it.

Sardill chuckled. “Ask what you ­imag­ine. If it is within my power, I will tell you.”

“Is it possible to make my illusions more difficult to det­ect?” Sedder asked ten­tatively.

Sardill nodded. “It’s called obfuscating spells. Precise casting ensures, ideally, that no excess mana radiates out from the weave, but it’s generally suff­ic­ient to divert the excess mana into a dir­ec­tion that it will not be det­ected. Done properly, even the greatest of Seekers will have trouble in sensing them.”

“That definitely sounds use­ful,” Sedder said. “I keep running into things that seem to treat my illusions as a flood light.”

“I will show you how,” Sardill said. “I will teach you the tech­nique. You will need to prac­tice on your own time in order to per­fect it, though.”

“Of course,” Sedder said.

“And once I have done that, I have new orders for you,” Sardill said. “You are to rejoin the group and assist them in any way possible. And gather all the infor­mation you can about these books they have recovered. But most im­por­tantly, stay with them and earn their trust. Lie about your involvement with me if need be.”

“Yes, my lord,” Sedder said, then paused. “What of Silver?”

“He intends to go with you,” Sardill said.

Sedder looked at him. That wasn’t what he was asking, but he didn’t dare say any­thing else.

Sardill seemed to realize what he meant. “Anything further than that is none of your business.”

Sedder bit his lip. “I wasn’t going to ask.”

Sardill nodded tersely. “Then pay atten­tion. I will not repeat your magical lessons twice.”

“Yes, my lord.”