The Sleeping Life

Chapter Seventeen

Illidian turned his head, listening. Then he rose, and held his hands down to her. "Sarana’s group has arrived."

They emerged into the hall at the same time as Sukata, who had clearly heard as well—a neat demonstration of why a silence casting was necessary for a truly private conversation in a Kellian household. The girl’s habitual lack of expression did not hide her excitement, for she was near to bouncing as she headed for the stair.

Sukata had come from Kendall’s room, and the shorter girl followed along behind, wearing a consciously blank face. Having now a better understanding of what had so disturbed Kendall, Rennyn was fairly certain that whatever overtures Sukata had made had been received with a determination to pretend that nothing whatsoever was wrong—and that Sukata was probably convinced that her own display of temperament was at fault.

Illidian checked as they reached the head of the stair, then leaned down to murmur to Rennyn: "A deputation from Aurai’s Rest has come to meet us, and joined them on the road."

There was relief, and just a note of amusement to his words, and Rennyn blinked up at him, then looked down at the crowd. From this angle, a single stranger came to her eye, but it took only a moment to trace a strong resemblance and translate Illidian’s observation into: My mother is here.

Darian Faille. Rennyn knew her to be highly respected among the Kellian, and also strongly of the opinion that it was a mistake to live among humans. But since the Kellian were extremely disinclined to force personal opinion on others, she could not be regarded as a leader of a faction against serving as Sentene in Tyrland, but rather simply someone who chose not to do so herself.

Since Kellian were by nature unsmiling, Rennyn was unsurprised when Illidian’s introduction produced only a handshake and a moment of direct study. Sukata provided contrast, first hugging her mother and then a second newcomer, a slender girl not quite her own height.

This last prompted Rennyn to look about for Kendall, spotting her sitting almost out of view at the top of the stair. The new arrivals had come at a bad moment, but not seeing anything to be done about it, Rennyn returned her attention to the crowd, and was introduced to the Kellian girl, Tesin Asaka, pretending not to notice the girl’s patent wariness whenever she spoke. At least these two removed the lingering concern that her Wicked Uncle was off attacking Aurai’s Rest.

Five Sentene pairs had formed Sarana’s party, and Rennyn’s hired Kolan servants, though told days ago to prepare for the main arrival, took a flustered and overwhelmed attitude toward the task of adding an extra two to this number. Rennyn sorted mentally through the room arrangements, made a quiet suggestion, and then went to sit in her capacious parlour, knowing that Illidian would effortlessly ensure confusion became order.

The arrival of the rest of the expedition brought forward the item on the journey’s itinerary that Rennyn particularly didn’t want to face, and she wished they’d caught some nearer trace of her Wicked Uncle, so they could put off the visit to Aurai’s Rest. Giving the survivors of the original Ten Kellian a choice about their future might be both right and necessary, but her own discomfort at her role was compounded by the impact it would have on Illidian.

All of the Kellian struggled not to shrink from what she represented. Killing the Ten, no matter how kindly, was not going to improve Rennyn’s relationship with the Kellian descendants. Nor Illidian, even though he had raised the possibility in the first place. How could it not place another pressure, another strain on their marriage?

That wasn’t each broaching the question of the impact of the death of the original golems on Solace’s casting was something she could not approach with any measure of pragmatism. Would it be easier for the Kellian if the enchantment was broken, and they became a more ordinary sort of people? Would their personalities change?

Who would she be married to?

This vexed thought was interrupted by movement at the half-open door, and the arrival of a determinedly-brisk Kendall with a tray.

"Hope you’re not planning to keep these numb-suck servants on," the girl said. "They’re as useless as a shed-full of hens after you’ve said boo."

"It is unfortunate that we arrested a person who seems to have been the mainstay of the household," Rennyn agreed, looking over the tray with interest. "But these are only a temporary engagement. Whoever makes these nut cakes can stay—I don’t care about the rest of them. It’s a bit complicated, since I don’t know how long we’ll be away."

"You’re not going to pay them to kick their heels here while we go north?"

"Perhaps a partial staff. Leaving it unoccupied strikes me as unwise."

"Leave the Pest behind to lord it over them. He can finish cataloguing your library." Kendall’s eyes narrowed, and Rennyn realised her own expression must have changed. "Finally sorry you brought him along?"

"I don’t think it would be very safe to leave any of our group alone," Rennyn said. "We haven’t managed to be very quiet on this trip."

"You think That Monster might have heard?"

"All too likely," Rennyn said, looking up as Illidian came into the room, escorting his mother and Sarana Illuma. "Though I admit to a tendency to see my Wicked Uncle in every shadow, to blame him for encounters with Eferum-Get, and suspect him of taking to kidnapping mages."

"Kidnapping?" Sarana said, nodding acceptance when Rennyn held up an empty cup.

While Rennyn poured tea, Illidian gave Kendall a glance that sent the girl reluctantly from the room, then briefly recounted the Emperor’s warning.

"You believe this Helecho Montjuste-Surclere to be responsible for the disappearances?" Darian Faille asked.

"I believe that…it is not wise to underestimate my Wicked Uncle," Rennyn said. "A mage born in the Eferum, a blood-drinker, and inventive. He is capable of posing an enormous threat, and it seems to me that these disappearances constitute the loss of Kole’s strongest defenders."

"A prelude to an Eferum-Get invasion?" Sarana said, and almost visibly began to plan defences and counter-attacks.

"Would you know Prince Helecho if he changed his appearance?" Illidian asked, accepting a cup of tea.

Rennyn, turning this over, abruptly remembered Kendall, in an exaggerated imitation of Rhael Samarin’s amused confidence, saying: "I expect I’m even younger than you think." Rennyn had repeated that to Illidian and he must be thinking of it in connection to her Wicked Uncle, whose age was a somewhat uncertain matter thanks to the time-distorting nature of the Eferum. She met his eyes, startled, then said:

"No, not necessarily. An illusion I would spot, but features can be altered in the same way a wound is healed, and there would be no trace of that once the initial casting was done. But I’d certainly notice an inability to go outside during the day. I suppose it’s possible that my Wicked Uncle will eventually adapt to this world and become more tolerant of sunlight, but I’d be astonished if he had already reached the point where it was not fatal to him."

Still, making himself part of their expedition was the sort of thing Rennyn suspected her uncle would find highly entertaining. Nor should she dismiss the chance that he had found a way to tolerate sunlight, just because she did not think it possible.

"I will ask Lieutenant Meniar to cast the divination more frequently. And think on a shorter-range casting looking specifically for my Wicked Uncle, in case he has abandoned my focus." She could not suppress a faint grimace, since she would not at all like to use the one tangible symbol of him she had at hand. But she refused to shy away from any of the unpleasant necessities in store from her, so let out her breath slowly, then said to Sarana: "When do you want to leave?"

"I value my life too much to suggest it in the hearing of the Imperial Guard, but this is by far the most well-defended household in Koletor."

Blinking her way out of a light doze, Rennyn frowned at Rhael Samarin, framed in the parlour doorway by two of the recently arrived Sentene: Mede Lankor and her mage partner, Rundl Hynes, clearly entertaining doubts about letting Samarin near her.

"Would you like us to stay, Your Grace?" Rundl asked.

"No, but thank you," Rennyn said, adding a reassuring smile and hiding her annoyance that two tiny silence castings had made her miss the conclusion of the discussion about the proposed journey north. Illidian must have taken his mother and Sarana upstairs.

"I think this is the first time I’ve seen you alone," Samarin said, sitting down and studying her with all his usual self-possession.

Rennyn rubbed her eyes before looking him over in turn. She had been half-expecting a private conversation with Illidian’s mother—had had a strong impression that there was something Darian wanted to say to her—but she should perhaps be less surprised that Darian Faille, with typical Kellian reticence, had let her be.

"It provides a good opportunity to have words on the subject of teasing my students," she said to Samarin, and was surprised when his faint near-constant smile faded, and he responded gravely.

"Yes, I misjudged there. Instead of minor mischief, a heart’s blow. I am sorry for that, though it does not make the question any less valid."

"You take the idea seriously?"

"I take a great many things seriously. You don’t feel the possibility is worth consideration?"

"I don’t see anything in the spell construction, and if there’s any active enchantment of that sort, it’s one beyond my ability to detect."

Mindful of Mede Lankor posted just outside the room, Rennyn did not go into the subject further, and asked Samarin, instead, if he had any further information on the disappearances.

"Verisia has missed a mage as well," Samarin said, promptly. "You know of Thyla Hettan?"

"Specialised in mage-wrought bridges?"

"Gone a little under a fortnight ago. The report did not detail whether she was wearing her focus at the time, but I’ve confirmed that the Kolan mages all were. It is not necessarily an important factor, since it’s rare to find a powerful mage not wearing a focus, but a point worth noting."

"Does your Emperor wear a focus?"

A tiny pause, and then Samarin nodded.

Rennyn thought about all the things her inventive Wicked Uncle might do, then said: "Would you be able to tell if Corusar had been replaced? I don’t mean the old stories about how he died long ago, and his voice is simply mimicked by hidden Court officials. I mean replaced."

Samarin’s wide mouth twitched, but then he went still, and a frown grew on his youthful face.

"I am quite certain he has not been," he said, at last. "As are you, I think, because your sensitivity to worked magic is said to be acute, so it must have been apparent to you that the throne room enchantments have been in place for a very long time. If something occurred while I made an interesting trip into the northern forests, I suspect my discovery of any substitution would be shortly followed by my swift removal from play."

"Could a replacement be achieved without the Court’s notice?"

Samarin raised an equivocal hand. "It would take someone of your calibre, but with rather more knowledge of Kole, and extended access. The problem would be that the next powerful mage who sought audience would surely notice the re-set enchantments, especially if they had visited before. And it would be noticed if all the greater mages were suddenly refused audience."

"Unless they had all vanished."

He nodded, but then made a dismissive gesture. "If someone were to try to take Kole’s throne, I would be astonished if they did so by assuming the Emperor’s Preservation. Few have a taste for such a…rigid definition of immortality."

"No. I am surprised…" she began, and stopped.

Her Imperial audience had been conducted both without notice, and with disconcerting efficiency. Tired and headachy, Rennyn had not given the enchantments surrounding Corusar the attention she would in more propitious circumstances. Glancing back at the Dezart, she found him relaxed but watching her steadily. She knew little about this young man, but the one thing his title made clear was the Emperor’s trust. The confidence of a barely-human Emperor whose rule had long been sustained by a casting that surely must be wearing thin.

Was it missing mages, the Kellian, or something else that had seen Samarin joined to her entourage?

"I loathe politics," she said, with a sigh. "But I have a great interest in magic. I hope I can assist the Emperor with the problem you are investigating without becoming too entangled in matters that don’t concern me."

Rennyn stood up, and Samarin rose politely as well, and paused as she dealt with the dizziness that standing often chose to inflict on her.

"Some problems have a way of tangling even the most disinterested," he said, and offered her his arm.