As he headed to the door, though, he felt an arm on his shoulder.
‘No, Cedric, you do not need to go. I have been very rude and I am sorry. I still think of ... of what happened to me. It can make me tetchy sometimes. But the book I am looking at is ...
well perhaps it is best if you just look at it.’ She went back to the table and lifted it so he could see its title. His mouth dropped when he saw it.
‘I know,’ she said, ‘I know. It is a forbidden book. Anaya, one of the mages who died, she stole it from St Delph’s University. I took it, meaning to hand it over to the
Knights of the Thorn but they were all dead; what could I do with it?’
‘Not read it?’ Cedric suggested.
She sat down and sighed. ‘I never meant to read it but I have had a lot of time to think here. I ... oh, it is difficult for me to explain.’
‘Then don’t,’ said, Cedric sitting back down again. ‘But please, be very, very careful with what you have there. For all I know you are just broadening your knowledge and
I feel that is always something to be encouraged. But let me just say this now and get it over with – nothing good has ever come out of demonology. Even those that master it become corrupted
over time for their powers are so great they can become little less than gods and eventually they believe themselves to be so. Most, though, die quickly and painfully, for demons...’
‘Elemental spirits,’ Cheris corrected.
‘For
demons
,’ said Cedric, ‘bear no love towards those who call them forth; they kill, feed and die – it is all they can do in our world.’
‘I know. I have seen it for myself. It cost Anaya her life.’
‘Then think on it; you have been forewarned.’
‘And if I were to tell you, I think I know where she went wrong...’
‘Desist from this!’ Cedric stood again, horror writ large on his face. ‘Can you not see what you are saying! No wonder mages are sent to live in the middle of nowhere if they
succumb to temptation so easily! You could kill hundreds, even thousands, of people if you get this wrong, including yourself you silly girl. ‘
Cheris stared at him icily. ‘The man raped me. He has to pay.’
‘And I am sure he will, but is your life a price worth paying for your revenge? Do you want to lose that to him, too?’
A spasm of hurt crossed her face. ‘I suppose not,’ she said quietly. ‘I just feel so impotent. Everyone here is scared of me and my powers, including you, so it seems. But how
can I get this man to pay for his crimes without my using them? Morgan said something to me the other day. I had always thought we were sent into isolation because we were dangerous and
unpredictable, but he said it was because nobles were scared of us. Scared we would try and take power for ourselves. It is a thought that had not occurred to me before. And now for the first time
ever I do wish I had power, that I could take my revenge without taking into account the opinions of others, which I suppose justifies everyone’s suspicions of us in the first
place.’
She put her head in her hands. ‘I am sorry. We have argued here and that is something I never wanted to happen.’
‘It was not an argument; I am just concerned for you. You sound like you are ready to pack up and move to Blackmar and I could never have that.’
‘Blackmar?’ she asked. ‘I have heard the name but it was something of a hushed subject on the island. The mentors rarely wanted to speak of it – why I never really
knew.’
‘Mmm,’ said Cedric, ‘I can see it would not be a popular subject up there, not with the knights around.’
‘But why? It is a country, is it not?’
‘Yes, one that lies to the north and east outside of the Chiran Empire. I have read a little about it. It alone in the world is a country ruled by mages. It sits high in the hills and is
frequently clothed in mists and heavy fogs. Storms and lightnings are often seen tormenting its dark and forbidding peaks. It guards its borders jealously, so much of it is a mystery to all bar
those few fortunate enough to go there. Those that do, speak of a closed, secretive society presided over by mage families constantly at variance with each other. Assassinations, poisonings and the
like are commonplace, and for those without the magical gift there is no option but service in the army or a very miserable life indeed. There, are towns and villages but the main city is built
high in the mountains. There rings of stone surround the great mage palace whose towers reach nearly into the sky. The tops of these towers are flat and it is said that it is from there that the
mages call forth the mists that hide their country. I have also heard it said that the reason we hear so little of the place is because that is the way the mages want it, to keep people like
yourself - that is, other mages - from fleeing there. I have also heard that the secrecy surrounding the place is down to the church and the Knights of the Thorn. They keep it quiet, in case mages
everywhere get the wrong sorts of ideas into their heads and think they could exercise power over us humdrum mortals. As to the truth, I will leave it up to you to decide. ’
‘Why would mages prevent others of their kind from going there? The more the better, surely?’
‘The more the worse, surely? The higher the number of mages the greater the threat to those in power. As you know, those in power will do anything they can to retain it; you would probably
be killed the second you send foot there. You may have powers few of us can dream of, but you are still human all the same and possess all the vices and insecurities held by the rest of us, as
shown by the book you are reading at the moment.’
‘You are too clever by the half.’ She ran her fingers through her hair, making it look like a bird’s nest. ‘I have been up here for hours. Perhaps I should go now; I have
a cat to feed, after all.’
‘May I accompany you downstairs? Perhaps I could help you feed him. I am in no mood for reading tonight; I just wanted some exercise if truth be told. Astania looks after me well, but I
can still feel rough if left in the same place for too long. You know, I have known a couple of ladies who have loved cats. They have all been quite mad themselves – not that I am casting
aspersions of that nature upon your good self...’
As Cedric rambled, Cheris replaced his book in its correct place on the shelf. She then picked up her own, clutching it close to her. Cedric looked at her, his eyes serious behind his reading
glasses.
‘I will trust you. I will say nothing to anybody, but you must be discreet with this thing; it must not leave your room again. Understood?’
She felt like she was back in college again. ‘Understood,’ she said, biting her lip.
But he didn’t understand, she thought. He didn’t understand at all.
‘Are you able to ride a horse yet?’
‘I thought I couldn’t ride one even when I was fit.’
‘I shall rephrase it then. Are you able to balance yourself on a horse and push it forward in a crude and ungainly manner?’
‘I can but try. Why do you ask?’
‘I have to return to my people, do I not? Today would be a good time for me to leave.’
‘And you want me to come with you?’
‘Yes, I have something I wish to discuss with you.’
‘Can’t we discuss it here?’
Itheya’s eyes flashed with a mild annoyance. ‘I would rather not. Besides it is warmer today; I would imagine the air outside this city smells rather sweet. Would you not like to
experience it?’
Morgan looked uncertain. ‘I am not sure...’
Now the annoyance was more obvious. ‘I will put it another way. I have to return to my people to resolve the issue of my succession and hopefully say goodbye to my father in an appropriate
and dignified way. The entire enterprise is fraught with risk. I expect my brother may try and force me into exile or, if he has gone completely mad, try to kill me. What I am saying is that after
today we may never see each other again. You may be perfectly happy with such an outcome, but for my part I would like to wish you farewell in a place other than here. It is entirely up to
you.’
‘And at what time do you wish to depart?’
‘Now. My escort can be ready in very little time at all.’
Within half an hour Itheya and her ten-strong elven escort were riding out of the city gates on to the plain, before heading east and following the course of the river Fel
towards the woods and the mountains. With her was Morgan, Reynard and two other knights; he was no longer allowed to ride alone, something he would have had to do once the elves had disappeared
into their secret pass if they were not in attendance. A crowd gathered to see them leave, but it was nowhere near as large or impressive as it had been when the elves made their first ride past
the city what seemed like an age ago. The sight of elves around the place had, after all become something of a commonplace event in this part of the world.
They rode gently, making allowances for Morgan’s lack of comfort in the saddle. He was inevitably at the back of the group, his concentration fully employed in guiding his patient old
horse forward. She was a wonderfully tolerant steed named Mona, selected for him specifically for her placid temperament and easy manner. Itheya saw him and dropped back with her own white charger,
which showed some impatience at the constraint she was putting on her.
They were right on the riverbank, a clear, healthy watercourse with a sandy bed over which many leafy water plants swayed airily in the direction of the tide. A couple of fat trout trod water
under the shade of a sad old willow; they looked for all the world like two lugubrious old men chewing the fat over a mug of ale in the snug of a tavern. Old Mona saw a chance to grab a mouthful of
fresh grass as Morgan loosed his reins a little because of the stiffness in his hand and chest.
Itheya saw his grimace and called a brief halt to their progress.
‘Give me your hand,’ she said curtly.
He knew why and did as she asked without question. She put it between the open palms of her own hands, her long delicate fingers cupped outwards like the petals of some sweet meadow flower. She
spoke in her own language, quietly and softly, a murmur as gentle as a scented summer breeze.
It did not take long. Soon he felt the pain ease under the soothing warmth of her magic. The gentle pulsing sensation got beneath his skin, numbing his angry nerves, relaxing his bruised and
torn flesh. He shut his eyes, feeling the whispering breeze stroke his damp face and set his spine to tingling, as if a dozen icy fingers were dancing playfully up and down its length.
‘Better?’ she asked, looking at him inquisitively.
He did not answer, just smiled at her, and shortly after they continued on their way. By his calculation the night would be well settled upon them by the time they returned, so he tried to pick
up the pace, knowing that it was he who was slowing them all down.
The path that led up to the plateau that concealed the Pass of the Knife drew ever closer. They were starting to climb a little, too. The river skipped over several stepped falls, never
exceeding two feet in height, and the scent of pine resin started to fill the air. None of the party spoke.
It had passed noon when they finally reached the pine woods. To their left they could see the river bursting over the grey cliffs as a vibrant, misty cataract. A smaller plateau jutted out from
its eastern edge, bathed in a watery fume. All of it could be seen from Felmere Castle’s higher towers and the keep, but from there it looked tiny, like the miniature landscape paintings so
beloved of Tanaren City’s more pretentious wealthy citizens. The path they were about to follow turned eastwards away from the river, past shoulders of fallen rock, and finally climbed
steeply up to the plateau where the pass lay, the very same spot where they had all sat together and beheld Felmere City in all its dark impassive glory. Before Wolf Plain. Before Morgan’s
elevation to nobility, however temporary it might be.
Here Itheya called a halt. As some of their number dismounted to stretch their legs, she went over to Reynard, who had been talking to Morgan.
‘Master Knight,’ she said, her voice clear and commanding, ‘here I must ask a favour of you. You are aware that we are about to travel beyond the mountains, but it is through a
place that we would rather keep secret. Therefore I would like you to remain here, where the river exits the woods, so that Morgan can join you later after we have talked strategy
together.’
Reynard looked at Morgan, his eyebrow raised. On receiving his nod, both he and his two fellow knights retreated down the path slightly, to wait for the Baron’s return. The remainder of
the group, elves and one human, carried on for twenty minutes or so, climbing a worn path of mud and loose stone. that was getting ever the steeper. Then Itheya called one of her companions over
and spoke to her.
‘
Voe tafalla zadlenesh. Toja han vonazhai, vekele brachiana tafagrom onat za vheyuzho. Vexe inta zhur e amara.
’
The elf lady lowered her head in a bow and rode off, calling to her companions as she did so. They followed her, driving their sweating mounts up the pathway. They then disappeared behind some
standing rocks, cracked and weathered and partly green with algae. The noise receded. Pretty soon it was just Morgan, Itheya and a few brightly chirruping birds.
‘Why did you do that?’ he asked.
‘I said I had business to discuss with you; they will wait at the pass. I told them I would not be long. Now follow me.’
She turned off the path and into the trees. Pine forests are never places of light and gloomy shadows frowned over them as they rode.
‘You have still not dealt with that girl, the one who wishes to kill you. I hear you have even talked together. Is there a reason?’
Morgan thought it odd that she had dragged him all this way just to talk about the assassin, but he answered her anyway. ‘I needed to find out a few things. I may still execute her; her
crime demands some sort of punishment, I suppose, but it is strange. After speaking to her I felt neither a desire for revenge, nor even any anger towards her. I just found her rather sad and maybe
even a little insane, but I obviously cannot let her go unless there are compelling reasons to do so.’