Authors: Scott Marlowe
The wagon's interior was a simple but elegant arrangement. Short candles set upon a small, round table revealed a cherry wood chair, a cushioned bench built into one side of the wagon draped with pillows, and a short stack of drawers that rose up from the far end of the bench. Several changes of boy's clothing hung inside a narrow cabinet. A plush rug covered most of the floor. The whole of the place smelled of the boy she'd killed. Behind her, the swish of drapery caused her to spin around, but it was only her escort drawing the curtain closed. She was alone. Surprised, yet uncertain of her surroundings and this new predicament she found herself in, Shanna took the opportunity to search the place more thoroughly. She found an unlocked chest containing more clothing and several pairs of garish shoes—nothing she'd ever wear—along with a small vanity filled with a small collection of perfumes that made Shanna's eyes water when she ran them under her nose. Last, she found a narrow bed that swung down for sleeping but was presently folded against the wall opposite the door.
"I trust you find the arrangements suitable?"
Shanna nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the savant's voice. She turned to see the drapery just being swept aside and the robed man mounting the steps. As he entered, Shanna saw that he wore the same gray robes, except that now the hood was drawn back, allowing Shanna her first real look at him. Bald but for a few gray wisps of hair, the man's face was long and narrow, with a pointed nose and even pointier chin. Pale, but not nearly so white as the hands she'd spied at their first encounter, the skin of his face nevertheless reeked of age, with pits and wrinkles aplenty. Gone entirely was the man's hunch as he swept past her to take the wagon's only chair. One thin leg crossed the other and long-fingered hands tinged with the barest trace of color were folded at one boney knee. Steel gray eyes beneath bushy brows locked with hers. The man smiled, revealing teeth so perfect Shanna knew they were fake.
"I do apologize for the room's sparseness," he said, his tone pleasant, "but it is of necessity. I have tried, however, to accommodate certain needs."
Shanna ignored the man's congeniality. "Who are you and why am I here?"
He smiled again, then lowered his gaze to the floor, sweeping a boney hand across his balding head before he lifted his face to answer. "My name is Erlek Abn Nee. As to the latter, I must first ask a question of you: What do you know of your lineage?"
The question gave Shanna pause, but only for a moment. "Why do you care?"
The savant laughed this time, a small display of mirth that quickly subsided.
Shanna crossed her arms. "I have no idea who my parents were."
"Really? An orphan, then," Erlek said. He settled himself, folding his hands at his lap.
Outside, Shanna heard muffled shouts: orders to start breaking camp.
"Tell me, then," the man said, drawing Shanna's attention back to him, "what do you know of Norwynne's sorcerer, the one called Elsanar."
"Master Elsanar? I don't know anything about him."
"You were not one of his apprentices?"
"Me? An apprentice?"
"Then perhaps an assistant of his?"
Shanna looked at the man with a blank stare.
The savant, for his part, turned silent, as if he were baffled by her answers and needed time to sort through them. When next he spoke his words were only his thoughts formed aloud and not addressed to her at all. "Could there have been two? Not entirely impossible. But why keep them so close to one another? Why not, just in case? Perhaps…" He stopped and smiled. "Yes." He took some moments to bathe in the pleasure of a revelation before speaking to Shanna once more. "There was a boy, one whom Elsanar kept close. An apprentice of his. What do you know of him?"
Both a chill and a sinking in her stomach assailed Shanna simultaneously as she realized the savant was talking about Aaron. "I don't know who you're talking about." She thought she sounded convincing. She hoped she did. "I work in the kitchens. I mean, I did, but…" Her words trailed off, something Erlek did not miss as the man raised a brow. Shanna took a deep breath. She had to remain convincing. She'd be damned if she was going to feel ashamed before this man. "But now I'm—I was—apprenticed to a soapmaker, a
master
soapmaker." As if that made a difference. "I was learning to…" She hated thinking about it, let alone talking about it. "Make soap." Saying it out loud let loose something within her as patience fled from her in a landslide. "What do you want? Why are you asking me all of these questions? Tell me why I'm here." She wanted to stomp a foot, but thought the gesture might take things too far. She'd seen what this man had done to Corrin.
"Oh, as to why you are here. Let us say it is because I am indebted to you."
Shanna narrowed her gaze. "What do you mean?"
Just then the curtain at the wagon's entry was pulled to one side to reveal a woman dressed in white holding a bowl of water and fresh linens draped over one arm.
"Ah, here is Mirna," Erlek said.
Shanna recognized the woman who had stood behind both Erlek and his boy as they'd inspected the line of prisoners. Mirna did not mount the steps, but stood half-framed in the entryway, her head bowed. With a gesture, Erlek motioned her into the wagon. The woman was dressed in a simple gown, tied at the waist with a strip of leather. Short half-sleeves left her forearms exposed and her feet peeked out of open-toed sandals. She placed the basin down on the small circular table, then went to draw the curtain so that the three of them were separated from the camp.
Mirna moved to stand before Shanna, her gaze remaining on the floor. "Clean water to cleanse your wounds, milady."
One of Shanna's hands went to her chin where she'd cut herself falling from the cliff face after she'd escaped the Underkeep. There were other scrapes and bruises, too, but they’d seemed the least of her worries. She looked at the fresh water with hungry eyes, for every inch of her felt laden with filth. She knew she stank something awful as well. There was a sponge floating at the surface of the water. As Shanna reached for it, Mirna stopped her.
"Please, milady, sit." She gestured at the settee.
Shanna, not truly understanding what the woman meant, did as requested. Erlek remained seated in the chair, his stare fixed on her but with a faraway expression. Mirna knelt, then sprinkled something aromatic into the water. She dipped the sponge and brought it to Shanna's face. Bliss overcame Shanna the moment it touched her forehead as the fragrance of lilacs permeated her senses. Mirna was gentle as she moved on to Shanna's cheeks and to the cut on her chin. Meanwhile, Erlek spoke.
"I'm afraid a hot bath is quite beyond our current means, but Mirna will shortly bring more water for washing as well as food as I am sure you are hungry. Also, you will find fresh clothes in the armoire. Feel free to help yourself to anything you find. This room and all its contents are now yours."
Shanna started, jerking her face from Mirna's attentions to glance full at Erlek. "What do you mean, all of this is mine?" The fear that had been nagging her finally spoke. "You killed all those people. I thought when your guards came for me that I was going to die, too. Especially since I killed—"
"Yes," Erlek said without hesitation. "You killed Tool. I was angry at the time, but I have since recognized it for the boon that it is. You see, Tool was a particularly nasty boy. All sorts of odd and, shall we say, cruel fetishes. I'm afraid I remained hesitant to take the proper disciplinary action with him largely due to personal impediments. You, however, have solved that issue for me quite nicely. It is for this reason that I am in your debt."
Shanna stared at the savant a moment longer before she returned her face to Mirna. The moment she had, Erlek rose.
"Now, I must leave you. We have a rendezvous to make and—"
"Where are we going?" Shanna blurted out, looking past Mirna.
"Oh, not far. I've arranged a rendezvous with a dirigible. From there… well, we can discuss those particulars later."
"A diri-what? What's that?"
Erlek smiled, revealing the ivory of his false teeth. "A means of transportation. More than that, a wondrous machine which you will simply have to see for yourself to understand. But for now, Mirna is yours. Should you desire anything, command her and it shall be done."
With that, Erlek turned and was just opening the curtain to leave when Shanna rose and said, "After I killed him, killed Tool, something happened. There was something… I don’t know what it was, but it…"
Erlek folded his hands before him. "Yes?"
"It hummed. I'm sure of it."
"Yes," Erlek said. "Yes, it did. Is that all?"
No, it wasn't. There'd been something else, but it had been so fleeting she wasn't even sure it had been real. "I felt an odd sensation. I can't describe it." Shanna lowered her gaze from that steel-gray stare that hadn't left hers since she'd broached the subject. Her voice went soft. "What is it?" She did not expect an answer. Rather, an outright dismissal or at best a round of laughter for her to dare such presumption. But she asked it anyway. She fought to hide her surprise when Erlek answered directly.
"The device is called an Element. It is the power that flooded—destroyed, I dare say—your home."
Shanna wondered at the subtle reminder of how she'd arrived here. She especially did not like the word 'destroyed'. She'd not seen the full extent of the damage caused by the quake and flooding, having been underground most of the time, then out cold the rest. There had to have been damage, she knew that. But she'd no idea how much. She could ask. She almost did. But, right now, she had a mind for only one thing. "Can I see it?"
Erlek's lips curled into a smile. "Yes, of course. But, for now, cleanse yourself and take refreshment. We depart for our rendezvous within the hour. I shall send for you after we are underway. Then, we shall talk some more." He half-turned to leave, but then stopped as he looked at her almost apologetically. "Though I feel as if we have come to an understanding, please do not think of escape. My sitheri shall be close. While they have been instructed not to kill you, I'm afraid that, in their desire to serve me, they are sometimes overzealous. I do not desire you to come to harm. Let us also say that, as a sign of good faith, that as long as you remain cordial to my wishes, none of the remaining prisoners shall be harmed."
He left without another word.
Mirna spent only a few more moments seeing to Shanna's cut. Then the woman rose, bending at the waist as she said, "I shall return shortly, milady. The cut is not deep and should heal well with a salve. I will also bring more fresh water and breakfast." She made her way to the exit, not turning her back to Shanna until the very last moment. Then she was gone as well. She drew the curtain securely behind her, leaving Shanna alone.
Shanna lowered herself across the length of the settee. The sofa was just long enough to accommodate her, its cushioned surface a far cry from the hard floor of the cage she'd spent the better part of the night huddled in. She stared up at the inside of the garishly patterned canopy with its supporting hoops, thinking on what Erlek had said. In particular, she thought of the Element and the sensation it had caused. For a long time, she thought of nothing else.
"H
E SLEEPS."
Ursool shuffled away from the curtain separating Aaron from the remainder of her house. Quietly, she sat next to Ensel Rhe who remained seated on the bench close to the fire.
"He is about Hannu’s age, don’t you think?"
Milk-white eyes did not waver from the flames. "Hannu was much younger."
"If he still lived, I meant."
Silence.
"Perhaps."
Ursool crossed her arms. "Does Aaron know where you are taking him?"
"He knows enough."
"Does he, now? Tell me, what did you tell him?"
"Why? Does your witchcraft suddenly fail you?"
Ursool smiled. "I wish to hear it from your lips."
"I have told him nothing."
"Nothing at all? But you will tell him, won't you? Before you get there, I mean."
"What is the difference whether I tell him before or if he finds out once we are there? Either way, we are going."
Ursool sighed. "It might do him some good to hear it beforehand. He is just a child. He has lost his home. His friends. It would not kill you to give him some support, would it? What if he were Hannu—"
"He is not Hannu."
"But he is still a child."
Ensel Rhe did not argue that point.
"It would do him good to hear truth."
"I have not lied to him."
"Perhaps not, but sometimes the omission of information is no better. The truth—"
"Since when is a witch so concerned with truth?" Ensel Rhe shifted. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "What should I have told him? That Elsanar had not the foresight to safeguard his life? That had I not come looking for him at my own initiative he'd have been split in two by a dwarven axe? Sometimes it is better not knowing the truth, I think."
The crackle of the fire became the only noise between them for a few moments. Then, Ursool asked, "So why do you do it then? Why do you bring Aaron to Wildemoore?"
"Because there is safety there. Because Ansanom will take care of him."
"Really? Safety? I have my suspicions and, I think, so do you."
"Suspicions are just that. Ansanom has done nothing untoward. If not for his warnings, Aaron might already be dead."
"I wonder at that."
"Why? What does your witchcraft tell you? If you know something, then out with—"
"It is not craft, but common sense which warns me of that man. Something is not right about him. It is a wonder you, with all of your senses, do not see it. I fear that should you enter that place, you may never leave."
The fire crackled as Ensel Rhe leaned against the table. "I am not blind to the possibilities. But our current choices are limited. I said nothing to the boy, but we are being followed."
"Yes, I know."
The eslar sat up. "
What
do you know?"