tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance (16 page)

“No one knows. Clearly, they intermingled with our own kind, but how that came to pass, and why they disappeared, no one seems to know. My master told me that there existed no gift of magic among ordinary people until their blood was blended with that of the Althuri, but that is all he knows. They are gone, lost forever in the past.”

Even though I had only heard of these Althuri for the first time tonight, I could not help but feel a sudden twinge of sorrow at their loss. Whoever they were, they had changed mankind forever. Some might say the magic that came with their blood was no gift, for without it we would not have been embroiled in the mage wars, which had almost destroyed us all. At the same time, though, I thought the world a better place for having just a little magic in it.

“Not lost forever,” I said quietly. “For a little of them lives on in people like you, and people like my brother-in-law.”

“Tobyn Slade.”

I glanced up at Reynar, startled. “You know of him?”

His mouth quirked into a sudden smile. “Who does not know of how Tobyn Slade confronted the king to retrieve the woman he loved? Truly, it is quite the story. The witch-finders were much pleased by it, for his existence proves what they have been saying all along — that magic hides at the heart of the kingdom, and it is their task to root it out.”

“But surely they know nothing of you,” I said quickly, overtaken by a painful little stab of fear. While I was not especially pleased that Reynar’s master thought it a good thing to summon my cousins to dance in the moonlight each night, I did not want anything to happen to the man who sat beside me…nor, perhaps, this unknown mage whose name Reynar had made sure to keep hidden. My cousins were safe, and none the worse for wear, and in a few days’ time, they would be free of this odd spell.

“No,” Reynar replied at once, and I let out a relieved breath. “My master is very good at hiding his true nature, and makes sure he is so unexceptional that no one would ever think to look twice at him. I am somewhat more difficult to hide” — he stared down at the pale skin of his hands and shrugged ever so slightly — “but I do not live at his main residence, but rather in the place where he keeps his books of magic and other research. And also, once I was trained in their use, I can cast spells of illusion to make myself appear as something I am not.”

“Truly?” I asked, intrigued.

“Truly.” He did not utter the words of a spell, nor do anything else to indicate that magic was being worked, but in the next instant, a stranger sat next to me.

I jumped. “Goodness!”

“No fear, Iselda. It is only I.” The voice sounded like Reynar’s, and as I peered more closely at him, I could see that his features were Reynar’s as well, only now his hair and eyes were brown, and his skin tanned by the summer sun. He still appeared as a very handsome man, although I thought something was lost when he did not wear his usual silver eyes and hair.

“I like you better the other way.”

He chuckled, and at once the illusion was gone, and the Reynar I knew sat there next to me. “Truly? I always thought I must look like a very odd fellow.”

“No,” I said. “For that is your real visage, and the one that suits you best.”

The smile he wore faded, and he gazed at me for a moment without speaking. It was strange to lock stares in such a manner; the contact felt strangely intimate, but I did not look away. Indeed, once again I felt that thrill within me at his presence, as if something deep inside was trying to tell me that he was the one I had been waiting for all this time.

Perhaps he felt it as well, for he leaned closer, our faces now scant inches from one another. I had never been this close to anyone else, except the times Mayson kissed me. I thought if Reynar had the same intentions, I would not mind nearly so much.

The world seemed to stop as we gazed at each other. I did not move. Indeed, I feared that even taking a breath would shatter the moment, would prevent him from moving just enough closer to remove the gap between us.

But then he pulled himself back with a sudden jerk, his hands planting themselves flat on the surface of the log. “You must go.
He
is on his way.”

Oh, how I wanted to curse then, even though I had never uttered an oath in my life. This master of Reynar’s did have the most wretched timing. But I knew from my past experiences that arguing about staying would get me nowhere.

Above us, the wind began to quicken, the leaves rustling and whispering to themselves. I took this as a sign that I should rise, which I did, even as Reynar stood along with me.

“I will go,” I told him. “But I will come back to see you again tomorrow evening.”

My tone was firm, which perhaps prevented him from making any protest. Even so, I saw a shadow pass over his face, just before he said, “Yes, tomorrow evening. Now go, Iselda. Please.”

I nodded, then moved away from him and hurried down the path. Just before the ground began to dip down toward the stream, I paused for a few seconds so I might glance at him over my shoulder. He stood there, gaze fixed on me, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Then, without another word, he turned toward the glade as he prepared to meet his master.

CHAPTER 9

Although I certainly had had enough activity to make me fall asleep easily enough, I found that once my head touched my pillow, my thoughts continued to race, churning away at everything Reynar had told me. But even more than the astonishing revelation that mankind’s gift of magic had come from a race not even related to us was the way Reynar had gazed into my eyes, the way his lips had parted slightly during that one perfect moment.

A moment shattered by the impending arrival of his master.

I frowned, and turned over in bed as I searched for a more comfortable position. Reynar had been about to kiss me. I was almost certain of it. Yes, my only experience with such a thing was the one kiss Mayson and I had shared, but I had seen almost the same expression on his face just before he bent and touched his mouth to mine. Scanty evidence, true, but I was not about to disbelieve it.

What that would have meant, if Reynar and I had kissed, I did not know. He seemed to be a few years older than I, but I had no idea how long a magical apprenticeship even lasted. Was there a point when his master would set him free to make his own place in the world? And did such an existence have any room for a wife?

You are getting far, far ahead of yourself,
I thought with some asperity as I turned over once again.
For he has not kissed you, nor uttered one word to you that could not be repeated in polite company. I would not say that was grounds for making any sort of concrete plans.

Bother.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. The moon was slipping to the west, but still bright enough to illuminate the carved wooden beams above me. It would light the way home for Adalynn and Carella and Theranne and Janessa, and then disappear until its return the next evening.

Not sure why I hadn’t thought of it before then, I realized that Adalynn’s wedding would take place on the night of the full moon. Had Aunt Lyselle and the Countess of Delmayne decided on that date because of its auspicious nature? I thought that likely enough, for my aunt rarely did anything without some premeditation.

The door creaked and I started in my bed, then relaxed somewhat as I saw it was only Janessa returning from her nightly excursion. This was the first time I’d been awake to witness her homecoming, and I have to admit that it was odd to gaze upon her eyes, wide and blank in the fading moonlight. I stared directly at her, and yet she showed no sign of noting that I was there at all. She went directly to her bed, then bent and carefully removed her slippers, first the left and then the right. Afterward, she pulled back the covers and climbed beneath them, each movement methodical and yet with no real thought behind it, as if she were one of those cunning new toys I had seen during my last visit to the capital, odd little figures of tin that would walk with jerky movements once the key protruding from their backs had been turned.

I saw no key here, of course, but Janessa looked as if she was being controlled in much the same way.

A shiver passed over me, and I held my covers close, even though the room was still quite warm. Up until that moment, I had not noted anything particularly evil about the spell that had been cast. It was strange, and quite incomprehensible, but overall, it didn’t seem to be doing any real harm to Janessa or any of my cousins. Now, though, as I stared at her blank features, the way she laid herself flat on her pillow and folded her hands on her breast with precise yet somehow spasmodic movements, I began to wonder if I had been too forgiving.

Her eyes shut, and her chest rose and fell with regular breaths. For the barest moment, I contemplated waking her to see if she recalled anything of her strange excursion. But then I decided that might not be the best of plans, for I could not be sure of her reaction. I was not certain whether she was already asleep, although she did seem to be. Or had she been asleep the whole time, even though she possessed all the appearance of being awake?

Another question I would have to ask Reynar. Whether or not he would give me an honest answer, I could not say.

All thoughts of moonlit rendezvous and girls dancing in the forest alone were driven from my head the next day, for that was when the wedding guests began to descend upon the castle in earnest. I had often wondered why a single family needed to occupy such an imposing edifice, but once everyone arrived, I realized we should be full to bursting, every spare bedroom filled with some member of the nobility and his family or entourage.

There were some who would be coming only for the day, since they lived close enough by that it would be an easy ride, but far, far more had to come from the capital, or from far-flung estates in every corner of Purth, and so of course they must stay with us. And stay they would, through the wedding and for several days after, so they might make the most of their journey.

My aunt, of course, was thrown into quite a state, and was nearly a blur as she went from the drawing room to the kitchen to the stillroom and back, all while making sure that everything was just so. As there was not a great deal I could do to help — save being available to fetch and carry when asked — I tried to stay out of the way as much as I could. Janessa did much the same, and the two of us sought refuge in our room while everything was in chaos below us.

Since our chamber looked out over one of the main roads that led into the estate, she took up a position at the window so she might watch all the comings and goings…and see if any worthy young men had made an appearance.

“There is the Baron of Linsmere,” she announced. “And his son, who is but twenty. A little young, but he seems a handsome enough man.”

“Twenty should suit very well,” I said. “For you are but eighteen, and two years is a good span to have between a husband and wife.”
And how old is Reynar?
I thought then.
For he seems as if he is only a few years older than I — five at the very most — and yet if he has the blood of those Althuri in him, perhaps he does not age exactly like all the rest of us.

I did not have time for further ruminations on the subject of Reynar’s age, for Janessa said then, in deprecating tones, “Oh, I was not thinking of him for myself. He is quite handsome, but the son of a baron can do far better than the likes of me.”

“Don’t be silly,” I reprimanded her. “For you are of gentle birth, even if your father does not hold a title. At least you are not the daughter of someone in trade, as I am.”

She turned away from the window so she could raise an eyebrow at me. “Perhaps you think that matters, Iselda, but I am quite sure that Lord Mayson does not.”

“Janessa!” Even as her name left my lips, I experienced a stir of unease. I had not thought there were any witnesses to the kiss Mayson and I shared, nor to our quite intense conversation the next day, but…what if there had? Janessa did have quite the talent for hiding herself away and listening in, filing away any tidbits she might collect for future use. Not that she was devious, or intended any harm, but as the outsider here, she did whatever she could to feel that she fit in, and knowing things others didn’t seemed to be part of her strategy.

My outburst appeared to have pleased her, for her lips curved in a smile. “You sound outraged, Iselda. I cannot see why. It is so very obvious to me that Lord Mayson has developed some kind of feelings for you.”

“I do not think it is obvious at all,” I retorted, “for how can a thing be obvious when there is nothing to see in the first place?”

“And I do not see why you protest so much,” she said, her tone so mild that it was almost insulting. “For Lord Mayson is a very fine man. It is bad luck for Carella that he has given his heart elsewhere, but I suppose that is the risk in making acquaintances. One cannot always expect a person to do as one wishes.”

That sentiment was one I wholeheartedly agreed with. For if it were otherwise, then Mayson would have fallen in love with Carella, and been content to be only my friend.

And if people always did as I wished, then Reynar’s mage master would have delayed his arrival by another five minutes,
I thought.
If he had not interrupted us, who knows what might have happened?

Possibly true. But pondering might-have-beens would certainly not do me any good. Besides, if luck was finally on my side, then perhaps tonight Reynar and I would be able to make up for what had been interrupted the night before.

“No, one cannot,” I said, attempting to sound just as mild and unassuming as Janessa. “But if I were you, I would perhaps care less about what may or may not be in Lord Mayson’s heart, and perhaps put my efforts into becoming acquainted with young Lord Gwyllim. He is not betrothed to anyone, you know.”

“He isn’t?” Janessa asked, in unconcerned tones that didn’t fool me one whit.

“No, he is not, for his father appears to hold the romantic notion that his son should be able to choose for himself. So you see, he may set his sights on you during his visit here.”