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.”