The D'Karon Apprentice (34 page)

All did as ordered, and Ivy transferred her
things to the back of a loaned horse. In minutes, Ivy and Celeste
were alone, eyes set on the fort. Ivy pulled up the hood of her
overcloak, folding down her ears to pull it tight against the wind.
She looked at Celeste.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have some of the
men stay behind,” she said.

“Again, the remaining men were not mine to
command, and I very much doubt a handful of soldiers will make for
much more than fodder should that woman or her army reach the
shore,” he said.

“Aren’t you worried what might happen to
you?”

“You are a Guardian of the Realm. My daughter
trusts you with her life, and our land trusts you with its defense.
My concern is not what will become of me, but what value I can be
to you in the meantime,” he said.

Ivy smiled. “Myranda is lucky to have a
father like you.”

“Myranda hardly had me as a father at all. I
left her to face an unforgiving world alone because I believed it
was the best thing I could do for her.”

“You did the right thing,” Ivy said. “I think
deep down you knew she’d be strong enough to find her own way.” She
reached out and gripped his hand. “But thank you for staying with
me through this. I’m not as strong as Myranda sometimes.”

“You’re stronger than you think.”

She looked back to the fort.

“I hope you’re right. I really do.”

#

Amid the crackling, nourishing flames of the
fireplace in her room, Ether was thoroughly lost in thought. The
recent encounter with that woman, Celia, had a greater effect on
her than she would have anticipated, and certainly greater than she
could explain. Her capacity to continue in the face of losses that
must, at least to her, have seemed similar to Ether’s own was a
source of endless fascination. Naturally the reality of the
situation was that Celia’s loss paled in comparison to Ether’s. The
woman and those loved ones she had outlived were mortal, and
therefore they’d lost no more than a handful of years together,
whereas a timeless being such as she had lost
eternity.
Regardless, to the small and limited mind of the woman, a few years
must have
seemed
like an eternity, and yet she pressed on in
spite of it all. The woman had achieved peace and acceptance where
Ether could find none. Mortals. A strength unique to mortals… it
was absurd.

“Guardian Ether! Guardian Ether!” cried a
voice amid urgent thumping.

The call of her name was iterated several
times more before the shapeshifter reluctantly pulled herself from
the flames and resumed her human form. She pulled open the door to
find herself face to face with one of the younger and more skittish
members of the diplomatic envoy, a page named Stefan.

“What is it?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said, though
his tone and posture suggested a more accurate claim would have
been that he was terrified to disturb her. “But one of—oh my!”

He averted his eyes.

“What is this nonsense?”

“You aren’t decent,” he said, stricken with
shame and embarrassment.

Ether glanced down. Indeed she had resumed
her human form without the pointless coverings they seemed so
devoted to draping around themselves and stood before him
completely bare. She quickly remedied the oversight. Her brief
nudity was of little concern to her, but the fact she’d made such
an error revealed a worrying degree of distraction.

“Deliver your message,” she ordered.

He reluctantly looked back in her direction,
his face beet red.

“One of the bags was moving and making a
noise. It had been doing it for quite a while, and we thought it
must have been mouse! We aren’t allowed to open the bags of those
in the delegation, but one of the other ambassadors…”

“Is there an
end
to this, boy?” she
asked.

“This was making a noise, and when we found
it, it opened and started writing!” he said, offering up Deacon’s
pad.

Ether took it from him and wearily looked
over the pages. Quite a few additional notes had been exchanged
since Myranda’s initial warning. Now there was an account of Ivy’s
encounter, and one from someone signing his correspondence “CL”
that described a destructive event in the capital. The word
“D’Karon” was scattered across the pages.

“This is not possible. If there had been
D’Karon activity, I would have known,” Ether said.

“Ah!” Stefan covered his ears.

“What are you doing now?” she growled.

“I am not to hear such matters, Guardian!” he
said.

“I shall set this to rest right now,” Ether
said.

She focused her mind briefly on the task of
sensing the unmistakable influence of the D’Karon and their magic.
Within moments, her expression hardened. Though it was not the
piercing, sour sensation she normally associated with their works,
there was undeniably something similar. Scattered across the north
and south, like drops of blood on a field of white snow, were the
lingering traces of poorly cast D’Karon spells. Worse, she could
feel them grow more refined with each casting. In time, these
imitations would be as keen an affront to nature as the works of
the D’Karon themselves.

There could be a disciple of the D’Karon, a
wizard quickly learning their ways… and Ether had missed it. Worse,
even alerted of the attack, she was having difficulty resolving
where precisely the portals had come and gone.

“Why would they not have contacted me
directly?” she seethed. “Why would Myranda and Deacon rely upon
this
ridiculous toy
rather than seek me out with their own
minds?”

“I’m sure someone else would be better suited
to answer that question, Guardian. I’ll fetch someone
directly!”

“Is there some problem?” asked a voice from
the end of the hall.

Ether turned to find Ambassador Maka standing
at his door. Stefan turned and offered a deferential bow.

“Ambassador Maka. My apologies for disturbing
you,” he said, stricken with anxiety.

Maka raised his hands and lowered his head.
“There is no cause for apology, my good man. I am an early riser of
my own choice. I have been awake for some time. Is this a matter
with which I may be of assistance?”

“I have received some news through a means I
was not expecting, and I was musing over the exceedingly poor
judgment that could have convinced my fellow Chosen from contacting
me properly,” Ether explained.

“Would this be Guardian Ivy, Guardian Myn, or
Guardian Myranda, Ambassador Ether?”

“This matter would have been communicated by
Myranda or her chosen mate.”

“A matter of magic, then?”

“Yes.”

“I believe they are in my homeland, and it is
my understanding that our military would request they perform no
far-reaching works of magic as a matter of courtesy and
privacy.”

“Yes,” Ether said, impatience in her tone.
“They
would
continue to obey so minor an agreement despite
the consequences…” She turned to Maka. “Ambassador Maka, this
matter is likely one beneath me, but it deals with a subject of
such grave importance that its mere implication is enough to
warrant my attention.”

“I understand, of course. There are claims
that you can, at your pleasure, duplicate yourself. Will you be
doing so, to continue in your present capacity while addressing the
second matter?”

“I prefer not to split my attentions
unnecessarily. Recent revelations have made depth of focus a matter
of careful consideration, it seems.”

“Ah, a shame. I was intrigued by how such a
thing might be achieved. No matter. Will the tour continue in your
absence?”

“I am certain the others will make for more
agreeable and conventional hosts.”

“Perhaps more conventional, Ambassador, but I
have found your hospitality most agreeable. Will you be
returning?”

“I have committed to the whole of this tour.
I intend to honor that commitment as soon as this matter is dealt
with.”

“Excellent. I have enjoyed our talks, and I
look forward to continuing them.”

“As do I. You are a man of considerable
insight for one of so few years.”

“Ha!” he said with a wide grin. “And
you
have a way of making an old man feel young again.”

“You will inform the rest of the delegation
of my departure?”

“Of course. Do not let us keep you from your
task.”

Ether did not waste another moment on the
painful delays of protocol and pleasantries. She shifted sharply to
a whirling mass of wind and whisked through the nearest loose
shutter, leaving her pad in the hands of the startled and uneasy
Stefan.

A feeling of unbridled liberation flooded
her. Again the very air that enrobed the world mixed with
consciousness, flowing through and around her. Thus freed of the
burdensome form, her mind was free to pore over the tainted
remnants of the horrid spells she’d been made aware of. Her first
act would be to identify the proper destination. She could sense
that Myranda and Deacon were headed quickly for one of the sources
of such blight, and there was some talk about how her presence in
the south might be problematic. That mattered little to her. If she
had reason to do so, she would have few qualms about journeying to
Tressor to investigate. But the workings in the north were far
fresher and far closer to the proper casting of the spells. They
were her greatest concern. Ivy, for all of her flaws, had
investigated one of the most recent and abundant upwellings of
magic. Though that fort and its well of dark workings would likely
benefit most from her investigation, Ivy at least knew intimately
of the D’Karon and their treachery. There was one point of concern
that had been seen to only by mortals. It was the point farthest to
the north, the capital. As she tried to focus on it, she felt as
though this place had by far the greatest stain of magic. Portals
to and from that place had opened more than once, and to different
positions. It was the greatest incursion, and for that reason
warranted the eye of the most skilled member of the Chosen.

She set her course for the Castle Verril and
poured on as much speed as she could muster, whisking though the
morning air and watching fields of white, silver, gray, and green
rush by beneath her.

The first riddle solved for now, Ether could
muse upon the more troubling matter of how she had failed to detect
these spells.

I’ve spent too much time out of my native
form. It has muddled my thinking. That must be the problem, she
thought. As often as I’ve taken Emilia’s form…

Ether paused. No. Not Emilia’s form. My human
form. There is no connection to that woman beyond the aesthetic. It
is pointless to think of it as anything but an assumed appearance.
And regardless, I’ve assumed the form so often it is simple,
comfortable. It shouldn’t limit my perception of such things. Yet
there can be no doubt that having returned to a more appropriate
form I can think more clearly, sense the world more directly. Yes…
yes, I’ve simply numbed myself to the limitations of the form. In
the future I shall forgo assuming human form, and such matters will
no longer slip my notice.

For a few moments, and a few dozen miles, the
answer had been obvious and satisfactory, but realization soon
robbed her of the comfortable feeling of having solved this more
troubling puzzle.

I’d been in the form of flame, replenishing
myself all night. My mind should have been as clear then as it has
ever been. And yet I had to be informed…

She considered the long night crackling in
the hearth and the things that had occupied her mind during that
time. As was too often the case, she’d been dwelling on the gnawing
emptiness with her. The void left by the loss of Lain and the loss
of her purpose. Cold realization poured over her as she finally
grasped how deeply her mind and soul were stained by these petty
mortal needs. A solution needed to be found before she slipped any
deeper into the bleak state of mind that had driven her to this
malaise. This void needed to be filled or else cut away. She needed
to be rid of the longing and listlessness before she was rendered
the same useless tangle of doubt and confusion that all mortals
seemed to be.

This worrying preoccupation with her own
preoccupation made the remainder of the journey seem to pass in no
time at all, though traveling as the wind meant that such was not
far from the truth. Dawn had only just finished breaking when her
windy form pulled together into a roughly human shape in the
courtyard of Castle Verril. Out of reflex and habit, she quickly
resumed her human form, a fact that brought an irritated scowl to
her already stern expression. It would be a difficult matter to
train herself not to resort to humanity as a default form. She
briefly considered whisking back to wind, or perhaps choosing stone
or flame, but the palace was meant for creatures of roughly human
form, and therefore it was simpler for now to remain as one, lest
she risk igniting tapestries or crumbling stone underfoot.

“Oh! Guardian Ether!” said a uniformed guard,
a young woman startled by Ether’s sudden appearance. She gave an
awkward bow. “We are honored by your presence.”

“Are you the individual responsible for
investigating the recent so-called D’Karon appearance?” Ether
asked.

“No, Guardian, I—”

“Then summon the person responsible. I am
neglecting other duties to see to this matter, and I do not wish to
do so for any longer than necessary.”

“Of course, Guardian Ether,” the woman said,
scurrying off.

Ether paced forward, crossing the courtyard
of the palace and approaching the entry hall. It was unusually busy
for so early in the morning, both servants and guards scurrying
this way and that, each pausing to offer her a bow and an
honorific-laden greeting. When she stepped from the icy,
snow-dusted courtyard to an entry hall that was moderately less so,
the severity of the situation was finally made clear.