Part 1 (2/2)

”His hand,” Daenara said, suppressing a shudder. ”I could not tell you what shone in his eyes.”

”Daenara,” Thaemon said. ”This is magic.” She nodded gravely, not understanding the full extent and nature of this calamity, but enough to consider Luseph had put himself and his family in serious danger. Uttering a vicious oath, Thaemon let her hand drop, and pinched the bridge of his nose. ”Tell me everything,” he said, slumping into his chair.

Daenara remained standing. She knew little, but told him what she could: that an odd man had come to the door of their home one morning, and that he brought a letter for Luseph. From the moment Luseph received it, he shut himself up in his room for days at a time, not so much as seeing the sun. He had become strange and secretive, and frightfully cold toward herself and Deacon. Then one evening when she ventured into his study he turned on her in sudden violence. She took Deacon from him the same night.

”It is an unnatural thing to steal a child away from his father,” said Daenara. ”I know not if it is a crime I have committed, but there is no other means. We must not stay with him; Deacon must never breathe the atmosphere of that cursed house. It has been a burden to come here with this most unnatural misfortune. Whole days and nights I have considered what should be done, but there was nothing save confiding in you. Next to our mother you stand as my most faithful, truest friend.”

She had spoken with such nervous energy that now the false strength went from her utterly. She sank down into a chair and closed her eyes. Thaemon leaned forward, gently took her hand, and kissed it. Her tears overflowed, and she wept in silence for some minutes.

Thaemon watched her.

”Do you know what the letter was in relation to?” he questioned at last, ”or who it was from?”

Daenara shook her head.

Thaemon insisted she stay with him until the matter was sorted. Gratefully, she consented, though she didn't know what he meant by ”sorting” the matter, and feared he didn't know himself.

Chapter2.

A Shadow Of Doubt.

The Imperial university of magic rose spire-like towards the sky. A pretentious structure, the most beautiful in the city, it contained the greatest collection of knowledge and power in all of Gonriel, being home to the council leaders, a group of twelve powerful mages who ruled the vast lands as they saw fit. There had been under their ruling peace for many years, and any conflict now seemed only to reside in the council itself. Travon, the arch mage, ever tightened his grip on the other members whether they willed it or not, gaining greater control and pus.h.i.+ng heavily toward a dictators.h.i.+p under his rule. It was not to be had.

Here Thaemon took his concern over Luseph. Crimes with the use of magic were punished harshly. He was not able to speak directly to the council members, but the steward of the guild told him the matter would be looked into. However, Thaemon got the impression they thought it a small priority. He would be left to safeguard his sister and her child from harm.

Settled in a bed next to Cedrik's, Deacon lay holding the hand of his mother, who was crouched down by the bedside. Through the dark he looked at her with uncertain eyes. ”I don't want to stay here,” he said in a hesitant voice, almost a plea. Daenara knew he wanted to go home.

”It will be all right,” she said in a weak, comfortless tone, keeping her voice hushed, so as not to wake Cedrik sleeping untroubled. ”It will be all right,” she repeated to Deacon more confidently. The gentle pressure from his hand crushed her inside. He looked as if he dared not move, like a child frightened of the dark. ”Go to sleep now,” she said, brus.h.i.+ng back the hair from his face, but his blue eyes stayed opened, wide and unhappy; they were asking her, waiting for her to make it all better. Leaning over, she kissed his solemn cheek and tasted a salt tear on her lips, whether his or her own, she could not tell.

The following days were quiet and uneventful, but Daenara had an irrepressible urge to take Deacon and run. She told herself she was anxious for no reason, that he could not hurt them here, but she began to suffer from vague, half-forgotten dreams that left her shaken. These dreams had even begun to haunt her in her waking hours, wisps of dark visions; smoke, blood, fire. Faceless men wailed in pain and agony. Deacon cried out for her.

After those frightful images Daenara woke with a sharp breath. In the dark she became conscious of a little form lying beside her. Sometime during the night Deacon had crept into bed with her, as he often did, whether for his own comfort or hers. Only half-awake, with his arm around her, clinging to her, Daenara felt the disconcerting sense of reversed roles; of him protecting her.

”You look tired,” came Rosa's voice to Daenara the following day. Rosa was the daughter of Clara's dearest friend. She had seen Daenara in the market district, pushed her way through the crowd, and came to walk at her side.

At this time of morning, the markets were flooded with people. They walked proudly and wore fine garments. As usual the city priest preached d.a.m.nation at the front of the cathedral, which stood out brilliantly white in the morning sun. His dirty robes, barely more than rags, gave him more the appearance of a peasant or a drunkard than that of a holy priest.

”I do not sleep well,” said Daenara, partly distracted by the priest's rantings. ”I wish he would be quiet.”

Rosa was a tall girl and very slender. Her narrow face gave her a pixie appearance at times, and her hair looked lightning-scorched, yet it was becoming. She chewed on the side of her cheek, gathering an idea. Then she suddenly said, ”You should try the hot springs. They are very relaxing. It's what the elves bathe in, you know, all the minerals and such, very good for your skin. Or, you could go to the seer.”

”Where?”

”The seer,” Rosa repeated. ”She can see your fate, but she is also a wonderful herbalist. She grows a variety of herbs just outside of the city. She is, shall I say, not an ordinary sort, but she is very good. My cousin Mertha once had a growth the size of a ...well, let's just say it wasn't pleasant, and the herbal remedy did wonders for her. I'm certain she could give you something to help you sleep.”

”I will consider it.”

”No you won't,” Rosa said, laughing. She kissed Daenara on the cheek and said, ”Stay happy,” as she ran off to meet a group of giggling girls.

The afternoon sun set Daenara's hair ablaze, revealing the red undertones in her warm brown hair. Undisturbed by her presence, grazing in the glade, were several placid deer and a fawn. Occasionally one would lift its head and return her gaze with docile brown eyes. The air was laden with the sweet scent of honeysuckle and spring wildflowers.

So bewitching was the suns.h.i.+ne and fragrance that she was freed of all troubling thoughts, and reminded of the brightness of day. Reclining on the gra.s.s, she watched with increasing joy as Deacon endeavored to catch flying insects. Not wanting the sensation to ever leave, she closed her eyes and let the feeling, along with the suns.h.i.+ne, sink deep into her as a kind of transfusion of warmth and life. She was not long here; then, the insidious creeping of dread came. Slowly, confusedly, she arose. She was suddenly fiercely alert. A horrid hush had befallen the woods. She was alone.

”Deacon,” she called, trying to suppress the note of desperation. Repeatedly she called, her voice hollow and barely audible.

The whole world seemed to wheel round and round before coming to an abrupt halt. A black figure, standing on a small rise, silhouetted by the glare of the sun, she painfully recognized as Luseph. Deacon lay peacefully in his arms.

Stepping forward, she stumbled and fell. Pus.h.i.+ng herself partly up, she saw that Luseph was gone. She gasped as a voice from behind came so near she could feel the hot breath on her ear.

”You cannot keep him from me!” Turning, she stared up at Luseph. His expression surprised her, for instead of hate there was grief. This was Luseph as she had known him.

”Luseph,” she whimpered, penitent. His face turned cold; accusing eyes pierced her in a thousand places; and she found she was deprived of the strength to stand. He would take Deacon from her. ”Give him to me,” she said nervously, stretching forth her hand.

Luseph made no attempt to catch her, and she fell piteously into the cold, damp earth. Weeping in frustration, she tore at the gra.s.s. Her bowed form was shaken by the violence of her emotion.

Pain turned to fear as she raised her tear-stained face to find her husband gone and in his place a stranger. He was thin, draped in black robes, his black hair smoothed back from a stern brow. He peered down at her with eyes she had never before seen in a living man, glazed and icy, revealing nothing of a soul within, yet he seemed to burn with some intense enthusiasm, or, it could be with hate.

”Listen to what I have to say.” His voice was frightening in its lack of resonance. With a purposeful movement, he reached forward a pale hand. In abject fear and defiance, Daenara scrambled back from him, shaking her head. He paused and clasped his hands pa.s.sively in front of him, yet there was something deeply threatening, deeply alarming in his forbearance.

His face, at once unfamiliar yet familiar, seemed terrible. Suddenly his eyes flared like blue lightning, and Daenara felt an intense heat ignite across her skin, causing a burning in her body which she felt would set her on fire, but it was the man who suddenly combusted into a blaze of vivid flames. She saw he was shocked and in terrible pain as his flesh was slowly consumed while he was still standing upon his feet. In desperation, mingled with some horrifying attempt toward affection, he staggered toward her, clutching at her, trying to draw her into him. She screamed. He would draw her into the flames and she would be burned alive with him. Frantically she tried to crawl away, but she was held.

In her utterly wretched state, Daenara cried out to Luseph for him to help her, but he did not come. She wondered with alarm if he could not hear her screams or whether he had left her to wallow in pain and misery.

Daenara awoke to darkness, with a vague pain as if she had really been seared. She was momentarily disorientated. A sly wind blew the curtains, and for an instant, she thought she saw a dark form hidden behind the light folds. But it was only momentary.

Close at her side a small voice mumbled indistinctly. As her thought and vision cleared, she saw Deacon at her bedside, his face dark and blurred with sleep. With trembling hands she reached out for him to come to her. Rubbing the hair from his eyes, he crawled into bed beside her. She clung to him, rocking him, and murmuring almost fiercely, ”He cannot have you.”

Much later, when she was certain Deacon was asleep, she carefully slid her arm out from underneath him. She went out onto the balcony. The cool brush of night air was at once calming. Down below she could see the city guards patrolling the streets. She recalled how her home village and surrounding fields would be engulfed in darkness at night. Here, where it was always bright and always awake, she felt some sense of security. It was here she had first met Luseph, but he had been anxious to move away to someplace quiet, and so before Deacon was born they went to a small village, and were happy. A dark shadow of doubt loomed before Daenara. Staying at her brother's home indefinitely was not an option, nor was going home.

Chapter3.

Intrusion.

-anet, an old friend of the family, discovered that Daenara had returned, and was anxious to see her. She wished to give Daenara her former job at the book emporium, and extended an invitation for her to dine at the elven gardens, where Janet resided. Although Daenara was hesitant at the idea of leaving Deacon-the old woman had requested she not bring the child-she was very keen to take back her position and accepted the invitation.

However, that very same day, Daenara had been troubled by dark images; every sound seemed to set her on edge like a sensitive, care-worn nerve. She attributed this anxiousness to lack of sleep and so decided, against her better judgment, to take Rosa's advice and visit the seer.

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