The Warlock's Last Ride (12 page)

"You also have the young lady in mind, have you not?"

"Yes." Rod nodded, feeling part of the weight settle back on his shoulders. "They're so right for each other, but both bound and determined not to see it."

"They are ready for the final stages of working through their recovery, Rod."

"Been doing a little mind-peeking, have you?"

"I am not a telepath, Rod; though I can communicate with you and your offspring, I can broach no one else's mind. No, I have simply listened to every word that was said and remembered them all."

"And put them together into patterns the two of them thought they were hiding? I can't criticize that." Rod gazed off into the trees. "I know what maimed Magnus—but I wonder what trauma made Alea so shy of romance."

"Whatever it was, Rod, it taught her that men are not to be trusted—though Magnus seems to have taught her that he, at least, is."

"The exception that proves the rule—but she only needs one." Rod nodded. "Of course, she's still denying her own beauty—but nobody ever accused Magnus of being handsome. Not after he grew up, at least."

"Ugly men are no less apt than handsome ones, to fall in love with beautiful women."

"Or plain women with handsome men," Rod agreed, "not that that has anything to do with these two. Whatever is attracting them to one another, it's not physical beauty."
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"No, Rod, I think Magnus admires Alea for her character—courage and steadfastness, perhaps even compassion."

"Yes, but whether she knows it or not, she has her own kind of classical beauty, and I don't think Magnus is immune to it."

"I beg to differ, Rod. I do not think your son admits to the physical attraction he so obviously feels."

"Obvious to you, maybe," Rod countered, "not to some of us who don't notice the miniscule clues you seem to find. Okay, so there's some physical attraction between them, but I think most of what binds these two is shared danger that they've survived together."

"And in the process, learned that they can depend upon one another absolutely," Fess agreed.

"They have no doubt that they can count on one another when the chips are down." Rod nodded.

"It's when the chips are up that they might have trouble."

"Perhaps, Rod, but that is no longer your concern."

"You kidding? The kids will always be my concern. However, I will admit there's nothing I can do about it right now." Rod shrugged the invisible weight off his shoulders and plucked another chord on his lap-harp. "I think I could manage another chorus of 'My Only Jo and Dearie-O.'"

"Why not?" Fess asked. "Only the wild things are listening."

"Look, I'm trying not to think about Magnus and Alea. At least the birds won't be critical." Rod began the rolling strum that underscored the words and began to sing, very softly and almost on key, "

'Thy cheeks are of the rose's hue,

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My only jo and dearie-o …"

Truly enough, the birds did not criticize. Some of them, however, did remember urgent business elsewhere and left the vicinity.

IT BEGAN AS a rather somber breakfast, and Alea noticed that Magnus pointedly did not take the chair at the end of the table. His brothers and sister must have noticed it, too, because they seemed to be very wary, poised and waiting for him to try to order them about. She had a notion of the shouting match that would ensue and braced herself for it. But Magnus said very little, only spreading preserves on a roll and cutting his meat, glance flicking from one face to another, seeming relaxed and alert. Alea wondered that his siblings failed to notice how tense he was underneath the calm exterior—but apparently they did not; there must have been some rule in this family of telepaths that they not read one another's minds the least little bit without invitation or dire necessity.

Gregory turned to Magnus, and the mildness of his voice belied the tension in his body. "I take it you do not approve of the care Cordelia and I gave our mother, Magnus."

Alea sensed the anger that surged through Magnus at Gregory's impudence and the reminder of their mother's death, but felt also the immense tide of guilt that welled beneath it. None of that showed in his face, though. He was calm and urbane as he answered, "You did all that you could, my sibs, save to talk her into going to an off-planet hospital, and I'm sure that was not for lack of trying."

Slowly, Gregory nodded. "Mama could be most stubborn when she wished."

Geoffrey watched all three like a cat about to pounce.

"Besides," Cordelia said sharply, "what could an off-planet hospital have done? They knew nothing of witch-moss."

Magnus nodded. "If they had even caught the deterioration of her genes, they would have had no idea what to do about it—and when she died, they would have fought to keep her body as a specimen for research."

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Cordelia shuddered, and her brothers winced.

"No," Magnus said softly, "I cannot fault your care in the slightest, nor her determination."

Brother and sister looked up in surprize. Then Cordelia frowned. "Why this attitude of blaming, then? Whom do you censure?"

"Myself," Magnus said, "for not being here."

Instantly, Gregory relented. "You would have caused strife by your mere presence, brother. After all, you could not have accepted Papa's authority as easily as the rest of us."

Magnus frowned, unsure what he meant but quite sure he resented it.

Cordelia's voice was low. "Even as you say, you could have done no more than we—but you would have ranted at Papa to do something, anything, and wasted Mama's strength with your pleas."

Magnus sat immobile.

Silence stretched taut in the room. Geoffrey grasped the edge of the table as though to vault over it—but Magnus finally nodded. "Perhaps I would have."

Cordelia reached out to place her hand over his. "We missed you sorely, brother—but we all understood your need to seek your destiny."

Magnus gave her a weary smile and nodded. "How ironic it will be if it turns out that destiny is here!"

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Cordelia glanced at Alea but as quickly glanced away and said, "It could not have been, if you had not brought it home with you."

Magnus frowned, not understanding, but Geoffrey laughed softly. 'Perhaps Papa is right—that your years of helping people rid themselves of tyrants and learning how to govern themselves have equipped you to ward the people of your homeland—even when that warding is simply to watch and do nothing."

This time it was Magnus who glanced at Alea; she managed a tremulous smile for him. He took that smile and gave it to his brothers and sister as he said, "Yes. I have, at least, learned some patience between the stars."

They all laughed then, and began to discuss the gossip of the day as they ate. They seemed to relax more and more as the meal went on, even beginning to trade quips.

"We shall have to see elf-sentries posted throughout the kingdom," Gregory said.

Cordelia laughed, a light and skipping sound. "They are already there, brother, all over. We have but to tell them what to watch for."

Geoffrey turned to Magnus, and there was an edge to his voice as he asked, "How think you we should deal with Papa's wandering, brother?"

Alea could feel Magnus's urge to give an order and the effort it cost him to bite it back. "I think he is no danger to himself or anyone else, Geoffrey, and is old enough to take care of himself. If I am wrong, I have no doubt the elves are capable of dealing with any difficulties until one of us can arrive."

"Surely they already know to keep watch over the Lord Warlock," Gregory agreed.

"Yes, and to pass word of his misadventures back to the Puck," Cordelia seconded.

Alea frowned. Had they so little faith in their father as that?

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Then she remembered what Magnus had said about Rod's earlier spell of mental illness, about his children's agreement that he had slipped a cog during the funeral, and thought there might be no disrespect in their concern.

Then she found room to wonder what "the Puck" was.

Geoffrey noticed Magnus's silence, and his voice took on a challenging note again as he asked,

"What think you, brother?"

Again, the urge to command and the effort it cost to quell that urge. Alea wondered if she were feeling Magnus's emotions with him or simply reading them from microscopic tremors in the muscles of the face she knew so well, perhaps better than his brothers or sister did.

No matter which—she knew his feelings, as his sibs apparently did not. They saw only the smooth, bland face he showed the public—and her own heart cried out at the wrongness of it. To have to guard oneself from one's sibs! If she had ever had a brother or sister, she would have treasured them dearly, made them confidants of her innermost secrets, as she had always longed to do! That was what brotherhood and sisterhood meant!

Wasn't it?

Magnus met Geoffrey's gaze, then slowly shook his head. "I think I have been away a long time, brother, and that much has changed while I have been gone."

"Surely not." Cordelia frowned. "Unless you think that I have aged!"

Magnus laughed softly. "Grown up, rather. When I left, you were still a teenager."

Cordelia stared in surprize, then laughed with him.

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Geoffrey shook his head. "What could Mama and Papa have been thinking, letting you go off on your own at such a young age?"

"I don't remember that I gave them much choice," Magnus said slowly.

Cordelia frowned at the willfulness in his tone. "Perhaps, but they did not have to be so encouraging!"

"Ah, but by encouraging, they made sure that I left with Fess to watch over me." Magnus raised a finger. "They saw me off with every advantage I could have—including my old tutor who, I doubt not, sent daily reports on my well-being and who was quite capable of defending me from any mess I might have worked my way into."

"Yes, but Fess was home before his messages arrived," Gregory pointed out. "His starship travels much faster than a tachyon beam, and he did not stay with you long."

"Not physically, no," Magnus said, "but when our cousins gave me Herkimer, Fess gave him a download of our complete family history before he left."

The others stared, then broke into laughter.

Magnus smiled, a small but satisfied curve of the lips.

"You didn't tell me that!" Alea protested.

Magnus shrugged. "I hadn't even thought of it again, until this conversation reminded me."

Alea's thoughts whirled, wondering how she could contact Herkimer for a complete account of Magnus's childhood and adolescence.

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"How like Fess!" Geoffrey said. "The mother hen to the end."

"And does Herkimer remind you to carry your umbrella and wear a cloak in autumn?" Cordelia asked.

"No," Alea said, "I do that," then bit her tongue, wondering what she was doing intruding.

But the family laughed all the louder, and Quicksilver nodded. "Well done, damsel! Keep on!"

"I do think my brother needs a great deal of reminding," Cordelia said. "He never was overly careful to look after himself."

Magnus managed another small smile, but Alea could tell how much it cost him and tried not to shrink back in her chair. Then she reminded herself that if Magnus was really displeased, he could manage by himself—but was surprized at the surge of panic the thought brought.

The moment passed, and Magnus gave a fair imitation of actually enjoying her presence. "It was very lonely, after Dirk jumped ship and before Alea came."

"Yes, Gregory mentioned this friend Dirk." Cordelia frowned. "What was he like?"

Alea tried to hide her curiosity. She had wondered often about Dirk Dulaine and how close his relationship to Magnus had been.

Magnus shrugged. "Only another disillusioned, discontented bachelor like myself, sister."

Allouette was the one who seemed to shrink this time, but it was Quicksilver who said, "Then I suspect you whiled away the time between planets by discussing the perfidies of women."
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"No, strangely." Magnus gazed off into space, mulling over a problem. "I suppose there was a tacit agreement not to discuss our attempts at romance. Besides, Dirk had a great deal more cause to be disillusioned than I had."

"How so?" Gregory asked, and Allouette stared in surprize, then was quick to look away.

Quicksilver turned to Gregory with a frown. "Did Magnus never mention this Dirk when you shared thoughts over light-years?"

Gregory shook his head. "There was little time and much to discuss." He scowled at Magnus. "You never did say much about your adventures, brother—only wanted to hear all that had happened at home."

"Of course," Magnus said. "Exiles always do."

"Say 'expatriates,' rather," Geoffrey corrected. "You left by your own choice. Certainly it was never ours!"

No resentment showed in Magnus's face, but Alea could feel it.

"And you did not think your own escapades were important?" Quicksilver demanded.

"Not to me." Magnus shrugged. "I already knew how they came out."

His siblings laughed, but Alea did not—she'd had altogether too much of Magnus's unwillingness to share his memories.

"Well, they are of interest to us," Alain said, "of great interest. Therefore tell us why this Dirk was
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