Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet) (11 page)

Glenn was still in the nook, reading one of my leather bound books. I peeked closer. It was my new
Andersen Fairy Tales
. He looked engrossed.

“Enjoying the read?” I asked.

He closed the book, but slipped one slender finger inside to mark his place. “It’s fascinating to read what human beings think of magic. So much is wrong, but that’s not what’s surprising.”

“What is surprising?”

“How much is
right
,” he said simply. “We’ve tried to be careful for such a long time.” He paused. “Truth is, there are more of them than of us. Sure, some of us have substantial powers, but if it came down to a real scrap, they’d probably win. Strength in numbers, yeah? So we keep ourselves secret.”

I sat on the ottoman next to him. “But why would people fight extras?” I asked.

He shrugged, “That tends to be the knee-jerk reaction when they find one of us. Kill us. There’s been exceptions, of course.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, his mind drifting to who knows what. He turned to me again. “It just seems easier to hide ourselves. We’ve been doing it this way for so long…” He paused again, “What was it like to grow up thinking you were human?”

I shook my head, “I honestly don’t know how to answer that. I mean… it
felt
pretty normal to me. It was a shock when I became a siren.”

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully.

“I’m really tired,” I said, feeling awkward. “I’m going to bed.”

He nodded, “of course.”

I hesitated as I pulled the covers down, “Are you just going to… sit there… in the dark?”

He laughed, “I was planning on it. If it’d make you feel more comfortable, I can head to the hall and give you some privacy, if you want. But if you don’t mind,” he held the book up, “I’ll give this a read while you’re sleeping.”

“Don’t you have to sleep?” I asked.

He smiled, “I’ll get some meditation in before dawn. Don’t worry about it.” He replaced his bow and arrows over his shoulder, leaving the room. He hesitated at the door, “’Night.”

“Oh… good night.”

The door clicked shut, and I called the lights off. Sleep was quick to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning I slept late, only awakening when the afternoon sunlight peeked in through the blinds. As I opened my eyes, I caught movement in the corner.

Glenn. He had an intense look of interest on his face. He was engrossed in my copy of
The Lord of the Rings
, the pages turning quickly, but silently, so he wouldn’t disturb me. I lay still, not giving myself away, staring at his face, which was a collage of expressions. The majority of the novel seemed to amuse him greatly, his lips upturned, his eyes sparkling as they quickly devoured every syllable. One page seemed to fill him completely with mirth, so much so that he set the book down and closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly. When they opened they rested on me.

“Good morning,” he greeted, formally.

I nodded towards him, “
Lord of the Rings
?” I asked. “It was always one of my favorites growing up.” I sat up in bed, the blankets a wadded mass at my legs. I pulled them up, under cover, so that my knees were practically at my chin. It felt good to be small again.

He smiled, “It’s amusing.”

“I imagine you’d find it trivial,” I said, annoyed. I hadn’t been exaggerating. It
was
one of my favorites.

He shook his head, “Not trivial,” he tapped at the front of the cover. “This guy at least determined that elves weren’t tiny people who played tricks or made toys. The representation is fine enough.”

“Then why is it so amusing?” I asked.

“The details. Most of it is actually accurate. Even going so far as to get common surnames correct.” He smiled a bit as he said it. “Culturally, there is some misrepresentation, but the author can hardly be faulted. Yet this manner of speaking, of separating the magical world from the human world, creating this ‘Middle Earth’.” He shook his head, “It’s silly. This world is already filled with magic if you know to look for it. It’s entwined so completely that separating the magic from the Overworld—
this
world— is the same as trying to separate heart and soul.” He smiled, “Also, the relationship between the dwarf character and the elf character. But I suspect the author meant for it to be amusing.”

I laughed out loud, “I suspect you’re right.”

There was a soft knocking at the door. Glenn stood up, turned the knob, and Marin bounded in. “I’ve been waiting practically forever for you to wake up,” she giggled.

“Why?”

“Today I get to introduce you to Aldan. It’s going to be fun… for me.”

“Actually,” Glenn interrupted, “
I’m
supposed to introduce her to him.” Marin shot a deadly look his way. He continued apologetically, “Part of my duties as her current guardian requires it. I beg your pardon, princess.”

Marin stuck her lip out, pouting, “Unfortunately, you have a guardian who is going to do everything by the books.” She thrust a small envelope towards me, “This has your introduction in it. Just give it to him when you meet him.”

“It’s Sunday,” I stated. I wasn’t expecting to have any obligations.

Marin cocked her head and raised her brows sympathetically. “This type of schooling is every day of the week. He’s expecting you.”

I groaned, not even pretending to be happy. I pulled the covers from the bed and asked, “When do I need to be there?”

“Whenever. But if you aren’t there today, and for enough time to get your bearings at least, he’ll be sending a comment to Daddy. Might jeopardize your standing with the council.”

Sighing, I swung my legs over and curled my toes into the soft carpet, bringing myself to a stand. I wandered to the wardrobe and grabbed one of the outfits I hadn’t tried yet. Tucking it under my arm, I stalked off to the bathroom. It didn’t take long for me to shower and slip into the soft cream colored blouse and blue jeans. At the bottom of the package was a pearl colored headband. I jammed it haphazardly onto my head. Once again, I looked stunning without any effort. I pulled on the same boots I wore to the council meeting.

When I stepped out, Glenn was already on his feet, bow and quiver across his back.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said glumly. Glenn’s lips twitched again, and for a second I swore he thought that my reaction was hilarious.

Marin waved at us as we left her house. She had assured me that Aldan’s place was within walking distance and that Glenn would know how to get there.

After we’d trekked a short distance from the house, Glenn cleared his throat. “So you never did let me know— what our ground rules are?”

I glanced at him. He was right. Last night I’d basically stuttered out something ridiculous about him making me feel awkward, then gave up and left. I stood up a little straighter. “Okay, rule number one: If we’re going to be around each other all the time, I’d rather it feel less like babysitting and more like friends. So, be friendly. Engage in the conversation.”

He smiled broadly, showing his teeth. They were straight and flatter than human teeth tended to be, but they were still pearly white and bright and attractive. “Being friends is easy enough. Let me know if I’m slipping up,” he added sincerely. “Duty on the Amaranth Guard is very formal. There is no illusion that I’m friends with my Lady.”

I felt cheered by this. It seemed like a step in the right direction, so I continued, “Rule number two: I get my privacy when I want it.”

“Can’t promise that,” he said, “I’d be a poor guard if I did.”

“Okay,” I sighed, amending my statement, “I get my privacy when I both want it,
and
when it can still be attained prudently on your part. You can say no if you feel it will compromise my safety.”

“Fair enough.”

“Rule three: I want to ask you any questions about yourself, and you’ll answer me, honestly.” I felt like this would be a good way to learn, not only about Glenn, but about the new world around me. Besides, isn’t learning about someone a fundamental way of creating a friendship?

He smiled, a strange expression on his face that I couldn’t place, “That, I’m afraid, I will not agree to.” He paused mid-stride, “But I will honestly answer three questions of your choice.”

“Why three?”

His brows raised, “Isn’t it always three or seven with humans? They love those numbers.”

“Why don’t I get seven, then?” I asked him.

He laughed, “Because I’m just not that generous, I’m afraid.”

CHAPTER TEN

Aldan

We’d been walking toward a small strip of forest just outside of town. Glenn gestured to the right, drawing my eyes to a large boulder at the edge of the woods. It was round and a little lumpy looking. Tree branches and moss draped over the stone, practically growing on it.

“Now,” Glenn said, “I hope you’ve laid all your rules, because time is up. This is the keeper door.”

I glanced at the boulder uncertainly. “Are you joking? Is there some trick?”

“No joke. Give it a knock.”

I just looked at him.

Sighing, he gave the rock three sharp raps. With a scraping noise, the boulder split, creating cracks that formed the outline of a doorway. The stone shuddered open. The inside was a blinding maw of light. Glenn motioned towards it, “After you.”

My initial impulse was to run. This was completely unnatural, after all. Instead, I squared my shoulders, stepping into the bright chasm. I was determined to remain undaunted. Unless I could find a cure for my transformation, I needed to accept magic in my everyday life. The light surrounding me burned my eyes, making me squint. All I could see was white. All I could feel was the discomfort of my eyes.

Walking through the light, I heard a sharp, ancient voice. “That’s far enough. Any further, and you’ll likely damage something. Let your eyes adjust.”

Glenn brushed up against me, hastily retreating. In my blindness, I couldn’t tell how far he’d backed up— an inch, a foot. We stopped, waiting for our eyes to handle the piercing brightness. After several minutes, I could open my eyes without pain, though I still couldn’t make anything out. After another few minutes, the edges of furniture and books materialized into view.

The room was bright, of course, but the room was also very
full
. Row after row of shelf after shelf, all stuffed with books in pristine condition. A glance told me the space was devoid of anything except the books and shelves, with the single exception of a large square desk in the back. The desk housed a leather bound tome that was huge and ancient looking. A large metal ring on the spine linked it to a chain. When I followed the chain with my gaze, I found it was attached to the wrist of a gnarled little man.

He squinted, though he was wearing large, round spectacles. His eyes were magnified through his glasses, the amplification making them terrifying. The color appeared entirely dark, but upon closer inspection I realized that a fine ring of light blue encircled the black: his pupils were simply dilated to let in every ounce of the searing light. His nose was long and hooked like a bird’s beak. He was balding. His skull was wreathed with gray hair above his ears, and a few renegade wisps grew haphazardly on top of his head. The man was
tiny
— much larger than the pixies from the meeting, but smaller than the dwarf.

He sat perched atop a tall stool. His wizened finger traced the pages of the huge chained tome in front of him. He looked ancient, but sturdy— stouter than most old men.

The room was bright, and the light seemed to bounce off the walls. The illumination itself came from large globes that were still too bright for me to comfortably look at directly. There were perhaps twenty of them hanging around the room. I glanced back: Glenn was still shading his eyes, and behind me our exit appeared to be nothing but a black hole in comparison to the brightness surrounding us.

“I suspect you have your bearings now,” the man snapped.

I timidly approached the miser, wordlessly handing him the envelope.

In a movement swifter than I’d expect from such an antique of a man, he tore it open and removed the letter. He grunted as he read it, “Heh.” The man set the note next to his book, then stared at me appraisingly. “This is a unique opportunity,” he started, “a chance to learn something new.”

I nodded, nervously. “I hope I can learn a lot.”

He snorted, “You’ll be lucky to absorb even one millionth of an iota of what you should. I mean this is a chance for
me
to learn something new.”

Glenn had been silent before, but the man’s demeanor provoked a response. “Wait a minute, keeper! This girl is protected by my Lady Amaranthe’s elvish clan of Kaeylo—”

He rolled his eyes and flapped a hand, cutting Glenn off. “You are not welcome here,
elf
.” He said the word ‘elf’ as if it were a derogatory term.

Glenn’s mouth became a hard line. “I am her guard.”

“And I am her teacher.”

“So it would seem.” Glenn stood stiff as ever, his expression daring the old man on.

The little man laughed, a sound that was strangled and— at least with my siren perspective— dusty. “You should know,” he said, moving down from the stool slowly, lurching, “that no elf is welcome here. It would be a great and foolish risk for me to allow it.” He bundled the chained book up to his side and approached Glenn, stopping a few feet from us.

“Regardless, I must insist,” Glenn pressed. He was polite, but there was an edge to his voice.

“Oh, really? You think I’d let you remain when I am in earnest work? You may stay outside the door, with the gate opened if you would like. You will be able to hear us. Should there be a problem, you are free to rush in and play the part of the white knight to save the damsel… though I doubt very much she would require rescue if she truly is siren blood.”

“Why isn’t he allowed to stay?” I asked, curious.

“Ah, lesson number one, then.” The little man bowed to me, “I am your new instructor, Aldan. One of the keepers.” He pointed at Glenn with a grizzled finger that ended in a long, yellowed nail. “Elves are, as the extraordinary community is well aware,
notorious
environmentalists. Taken to extremes.” Glenn rolled his eyes, but Aldan continued, “
This
particular environment is filled with books. Carefully preserved books that house infinitely precious reserves of knowledge— both about the Overworld and the Realm.
He
would typically regard a book as an affront to nature— it is twisting a tree’s body into pulp, bound and covered in ink. Never mind if he finds the knowledge within controversial or useful, acceptable or appalling. The book itself is considered an abomination.”