Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead) (2 page)

Charlie.

I realised my eyebrows were so high with disbelief they were in danger of departing my face altogether. With some effort I wrestled them back down and shook the big grey hand.

“I am a Mentor of the Ұiờ Enclave chapter of the Nea’thi Guild of Education,” he continued, dropping my hand. “And I am here to request the honour of training you in the use of your Hầұeӣ, what I believe Humans call Nea’thi Magic.”

I giggled. Actually giggled like a girl. In front of a very large not-human who wanted to teach me about
magic.

There was clearly something terribly wrong with this Charlie character.

“But I’m a
Human
. How could I possibly do Nea’thi Magic?”

“Oh! But you know about the Nea’thi-Blood?”

“Come on, that’s not even—”

“Ah mate,” he broke in gently, “nearly every single Human alive in this part of the world has a percentage of Nea’thi blood running through their veins. Sometimes by coincidences of breeding that percentage is high enough for the Human to have access to their Hầұeӣ. Humans like you.” And he smiled, as if bestowing a gift.

“Bollocks.” Charlie looked at me in surprise. I was suddenly grumpy. “You’ve gone wrong, mate. I’m the bloody Lord’s heir. I don’t have grey skin, I don’t have white hair, I don’t have red eyes.” I
was
quite tall, but I didn’t need to mention that. “And I certainly can’t do bloody magic.”

The smile fled from his face in disappointment. “But they told me you’d be here. And you’re definitely him, I can…” Charlie hesitated uncertainly, then looked up. “Fire. You can make fire.” Wow. Didn’t expect
that.

“Look, no, those fires had nothing to do with me, they just… happened…” I trailed off.

The Nea’thi was grinning down at me happily. “And you think fires just
magically
start?” His eyes were wide with feigned innocence.

And at that, of course, he had me.

Charlie insisted I show him around the grounds before taking him inside to meet my parents. This was decidedly against protocol, but I figured I was old enough to entertain my own guests, and besides, he was Nea’thi, surely the rules didn’t apply?

He suggested that we start south through the orchard, away from the house. When we reached it, I opened the gate for him that led into the forest proper, but he motioned me through first.

“This is brilliant!” He was bent and examining the gates’ latch. “I’ve never seen any like this before!” He was poking at the spring mechanism that prevented the gate slipping open. “I bet this spring mechanism here,” poke poke, “it stops the gate slipping open!” He grinned at me so proudly I realised that this Charlie person couldn’t have been much older than me, the way he was prancing about like an excited puppy.

“Yeah, my father made it. Well, he got the local smith to; he always has these little research and development projects.” Charlie narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly as he studied me for the briefest of seconds. Had there been a trace of bitterness in my voice? Then he shrugged and grinned again.

“Ahh, Human innovation. You’re a crazy bunch, to be sure, but your
ideas
…” he shook his head a bit ruefully. Then he closed the gate and with a gurgle of laughter bounded past me into the forest, shouting over his shoulder “Come on Jaseth, show me some
stuff
!”

We stopped when we reached the Jael River. It was little more than an overgrown stream as it ran through our forest, deep enough in places, but narrow, bubbling over mossy stones.

“Is it warm?” asked Charlie as he plonked himself down on a rock.

“Why? Feel like a swim?”

“Heh, I do love a good soak, but this would probably be far too cold for me.”

It was dim in the forest underneath the thick canopy of leaves, of oak and ash and hazel. The sun glittered through in tiny patches as it stretched westward, but the air was still and quiet, save for the occasional trill of songbirds and the bubbling of the river.

He smiled at my questioning face. “We Nea’thi feel the cold,” he explained. “Home – the Enclaves where we grow up – is quite deep underground. Warm all year round, and we’ve got the
best
thermal pools…” he added with a sigh. Well, that explained the heavy robe, I suppose. “I’d take you there one day,” he went on and my face lit up – a trip to a Nea’thi city would be awesome! “But I believe Humans tend to find it rather uncomfortable down there, too hot and dark.” My expression must have been thoroughly disappointed because he added “Well, we’ve had thousands of years to adapt! And there are a few smaller Nea’thi villages that are closer to the surface; they might be better suited to a visit.” His smile was apologetic. “But wait until we get to Lille,
that’s
where the excitement happens!” He jumped up from his rock. “Come on, show me the gardens. Then I guess we had better go talk to your parents!”

We tramped back towards the house, skirting the orchard until we came to a path lined with cherry trees that led to the rear of the garden. Charlie wanted to know the names of everything and got terribly excited when I mentioned the cherry trees, bounding off to peer into the lower branches. His excitement waned when I explained they were only of the ornamental variety.

“Then what’s the point?

“Well, in springtime they have lots of flowers, pink and white. It’s quite pretty,” I offered lamely.

Charlie laughed. “That’s good enough for me!” and he knelt briefly to inspect the gravel that covered the path. At the end of the cherry grove the path branched evenly around a bed of roses, their flowers looking a little the worse for wear at the end of the summer, but Charlie paused to bend and lift a head of blooms to his nose. “Lovely aren’t they?” he called, taking the right-hand branch of the fork around the roses and forcing me to hurry to reach him.

Catching his enthusiasm, I drew Charlie through the gap in the hedge that was even taller than him and out onto the lawn. It was a chamomile lawn, recently mowed, with four ancient yew trees, one at each corner. Charlie took a few steps onto the lawn and sniffed, looking at me questioningly.

“This isn’t grass, is it?” he asked, a bit perplexed.

I had to laugh at his confusion. “No, it’s not, it’s chamomile. It, er, smells nice. When you walk on it. See?”

He flashed me a delighted smile and crouched, pressing the lawn with his hand and leaning down to sniff. “A fragrant lawn! Brilliant!”

Charlie pranced over the lawn to the pond that lay beyond, on the far side of the house, and I had to explain how we had diverted a stream from the Jael to feed it. We found a bench on the side of the pond, overhung by weeping willows, and he sat with a happy sigh.

“What a marvellous place you have here Jas! So much beauty, so much
life
!” He gazed back across the lawn at the rather imposing pale stone manor. I sighed, our house and grounds tended to have this effect on visitors. In fact, most everything about the manor and its grounds were
designed
to have this effect on people, to impress upon them our status.

“Yeah, I suppose. It’s nice enough in its way.”

Charlie laughed knowingly. “But it’s a bit, ah,
rural
for a young man such as yourself?” I nodded. “Don’t worry kiddo, there’s plenty of excitement where we’re going!”

“Hmph,
anywhere
has got to be more exciting than here.”

With a chuckle, Charlie was up, dragging me round the corner to the potager, lined with hazelnut trees and full of the large raised beds for the vegetables that kept our household fed. I hurried Charlie
past, aware that the sun was slipping low on the horizon and I was suddenly nervous. What on
earth
would my parents think of this bizarre visitor, and the even more bizarre idea that he wanted to train me in magic. They couldn’t possibly stop me, surely. There were laws saying that Nea’thi-Bloods had to be trained, weren’t there? I struggled to remember classes I had had with my legal tutor, classes that hadn’t seemed particularly important at the time. I mean, untrained Nea’thi-Bloods were supposed to be dangerous. I could remember enough incidents in recent years, little fires that seemed to occur without reason whenever I had been provoked to anger or upset by the rules and restrictions placed on me, the sole heir. I had always maintained my innocence when these were blamed on me – I had never actually
lit
any of them. But if what Charlie said was right, maybe… Oh hell, maybe they
had
been me.

We passed the stables on our right and turned, walking around the side of the manor until we stood before the imposing iron gate that enclosed the courtyard.

“Well, here we are, I guess,” I muttered, gesturing at the gate.

“Oof!” Charlie let out a huge breath. “It’s a bit scary, isn’t it?” I confirmed with a doleful nod. “Come on, let me do the talking. I’ve had training in convincing the parents of Nea’thi-Bloods that Mentoring is the best possible idea. How hard can it be?”

A small group had gathered in the courtyard, including, to my dismay, my mother and father. The watchman opened the gate and ushered us inside. Charlie, seemingly without hesitation walked straight up to my father, bowed deeply and extended his hand.

“My name is Ϛaioћлeжa Ұлeßжa of the Ұiờ Enclave. Although I understand that Nea’thi is a difficult language for Humans to pronounce, so you can call me Charlie.”

I had been sixteen the night of the worst unexplained fire at Jaelshead Manor.

My parents hadn’t spoken of it in front of me, but I had overheard that because this was election year a party of Nea’thi had come to assess likely Candidates for the position of King or Queen.

Upon the Leaving, in their infinite, non-Human wisdom, the Nea’thi had instituted a new political system that swept away the old order and had come to be embraced for its efficiency and fairness. Candidates between the ages of twenty and twenty-six were selected by groups of Nea’thi travelling around the country to be put forward for election in a nation-wide ballot that took place at the end of every fourth year. The winning Candidate would then have an Advisor of the opposite sex chosen for them, also by the Nea’thi, based upon temperament and probably some other arcane methods, whose age and wisdom would serve to temper the lofty goals of the young Monarch. They then ruled together, presiding over the rest of parliament.

It had always seemed like a hideous job to me, boring and a bit pointless – everything in our little corner of the world seemed to run tickety-boo without any interference from the national government. But still, I had never met any Nea’thi before, and to see an assessment would be unarguably cool. I had also overheard that festivities were being organised. It was getting late in the year, the nights were growing longer and colder and people were starting to bunker down in preparation for the winter ahead. But an assessment definitely called for celebration, and there was to be a market with stalls of hardware and the last of the year’s produce, as it was rumoured that Nea’thi were in no short supply of coin.

All of this I had learned from overhearing the excited chatter of the Manor staff. My parents, on the other hand, had been suspiciously quiet about the whole affair. Surely they would be going in some sort of official capacity, and they always took me along to stand with them, gawky and embarrassed and often bored out of my tree when my father made speeches or presented trophies to the winners of the games that so often accompanied local fairs and religious festivals. But this was different! The selection of a Candidate was a huge honour for a district, and if that Candidate was then elected… Well, that would be awesome! There would be huge prestige for the place that had nurtured the Monarch, and one could expect massive gains in terms of the market price for goods from that district.

So it had been
definitely
suspicious that my parents didn’t seem to be readying themselves for the occasion. If I had heard correctly – and I
always
heard correctly – the fair was to be tomorrow, and my best fair-going outfit hadn’t even been prepared. As I was frequently reprimanded for “eavesdropping” (as if I had a choice, when people talked so loudly), I was loath to bring the matter up with my parents. Surely they would tell me soon enough?

But as the evening wore on, it had become clear that no such conversation was to be forthcoming. So I went to my father’s study to enquire. I mean, we could
see
the preparations in Jaelshead from our house. Market stalls had been assembled in the square, streamers and colourful autumn foliage had been strung from lampposts down the main street and as traders arrived I could see their horses being stabled out the back of the inn.

As I approached the study I heard my parents’ voices and, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, I waited outside the door. To my surprise they were talking about the assessment.

“I don’t want him meeting any of those bloody elephants—” I heard my mother sigh at the racist slur. “Well I don’t! He’s got enough mad ideas in his head, I don’t want him to start daydreaming about being King or doing magic or any of that crazy elephant Underground stuff!”

“But darling, if he’s going to be Lord one day—“

“One day in only four years’ time!”

“He’s far too young to be selected, and if he’s going to be Lord he has to know how these things work! And maybe…” my mother sighed again “Maybe we could ask one of them about the fires—“

“The fires!” My father exploded. “He’s a pyromaniac who doesn’t have the guts to own up when he’s done something wrong!” I heard him shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Oh love,” he went on in quite a different tone of voice. “Where did we go wrong? We’ve given him everything a child could possibly need. He gets to be a
Lord
one day, something any child would want, and he doesn’t even seem to
care
…” I could envision my mother patting his arm at such uncharacteristic melancholy. “No, you and I will be present at the assessment,
as is only proper, but Jaseth will stay here and have his lessons as usual. He might as well
try
to do something useful with his day.”