Mordecai Page 2

  Opening the door to Suzanne’s bedroom, I went in and sat down beside her. With my spell upon her she never stirred.

  “You’re a good woman, Suzanne,” I told her. “And I’m sorry for what happened to your husband. It’s a shame that such things happen in this world.”

  She couldn’t hear me, of course, but I felt the need to say it anyway. After all, what had happened to her husband was partly my family’s fault. I repeated the sleeping spell, sending her into a deeper unconsciousness, and then I pulled back the blankets that covered her.

  She had worn a gown to bed, so she wasn’t naked, but I could feel the heat radiating from her body. Perhaps ‘heat’ wasn’t the right word, it was her life force, her aythar, the living energy that everyone possessed. As always, it called to me, tempting me, and I felt the old hunger once again.

  It was something I had never told anyone about, my deepest shame. I had once merged my soul with the shiggreth and become the void itself. I had overcome it, and regained my humanity, but it had left its mark on me, and I could still hear it singing to me when my attention wavered. Sometimes I awoke at night, having dreamed I was one of them again, and even after waking I could feel its cold chill, not from some external source, but from within.

  I always felt it near the dying, but sometimes, like now, it was the supple health of the living that reminded me. The woman beneath my gaze had awoken the hunger in me this time.

  Pushing my dark thoughts aside I reached down and slid my hand over her hip. Sending my magesight inward, I searched, until I found what I had spotted earlier. Suzanne had possessed a slight limp when she walked, the product of some accident in her past. How she had broken her hip was not my business, but it had healed improperly.

  Reaching behind her head I numbed the nerves that reported the sensations of her body to her brain, and then I used my power to carefully break her hip again in two places. With that done I realigned the bones and fused them back together. She would have some soreness from it tomorrow, but that would pass, and when it had she would find her limp gone.

  Next, I numbed the nerves that led to her nose, and then I corrected it as well. Years earlier I had learned by painful trial and error that those nerves didn’t travel through the spine like almost all the others did. It wasn’t the sort of mistake one makes twice.

  After I finished I gave her an appraising look. She had been a lovely woman before, but without the crooked nose she would be a real beauty. Not that she wasn’t already, but perhaps life would be kinder to her now. I couldn’t control the future, though. There was no telling what the future might bring her, whether fortune or more sorrow. I hoped it would be the former.

  I imagined that her face would swell while it healed, and I wondered what curses she might wish upon me when she awoke. She probably wouldn’t realize the extent of what I had done until her nose returned to its normal size again.

  Replacing the bed linens, I tucked her in carefully, as I might have done for one of my own children. Then I left and closed the door quietly behind me. Back in the main room, I collected my pack and left a selection of coins on the table. It was far more than the two pennies I had promised her, but not so much as to cause her trouble.

  The walk back into town was a short one, and once there I visited the home of the woman I had met at the well. I put her and the rest of her family to sleep before I entered. Inside, I took a moment to find the broken pot, and using a spell, I welded the handle firmly back on. It was a silly gesture perhaps, but I felt better for doing it.

  Her home was not as nice as Suzanne’s had been, so I left a few coins in the pot and placed it on the table in the front room, being careful not to step on any of her sleeping children who were bedded down around it.

  Then I left and made my way into the forest, traveling without light. A wizard rarely needed light to find his way. Once I had gotten far enough I drew a piece of cloth out of my pack and rolled it out onto the bare ground. It had the design for a teleportation circle painted on it.

  Using another spell, I copied the design onto the earth below. When I lifted the cloth again to pack it away there was a circle made purely of light superimposed on the ground. It was an idea I had had only recently, but it made creating new circles a much quicker task. I only needed to add the keys to it, and it would be ready for use. I did that using a silver stylus plucked from the pouch at my waist.

  The main disadvantage was that the circle would only last a matter of minutes. It would fade shortly after I had left, but that was perfect for my purpose. I preferred not to leave any evidence of my passing behind me.

  Stepping into the circle I prepared to teleport myself home, then paused for a second. What was I going to tell Penny? I was returning later than I had promised, and even worse, I had already eaten. I patted my belly. It was a little larger than it had been in my younger days. “There’s probably room in there for seconds,” I announced to the trees.

  If I ate enough, perhaps she wouldn’t realize I had committed culinary infidelity.

  Chapter 2

  She was waiting for me when I got home. Not right inside the door, but with my magesight I saw her head turn when I stepped inside. The dragon-bond gave my wife exceptional hearing, among other things.

  Penelope Illeniel was sitting in the family room, a cup of tea beside her, and a book in her hand. She wasn’t one for staying up late, as I was, so I knew she was waiting for me.

  Tossing my hat on the hall tree I hung up my coat and proceeded in to greet her.

  “You’re late,” she said, not looking up from her book.

  “Sorry about that,” I apologized.

  She kept her eyes on the page, “I cooked too.”

  I winced. I had expected that, but it still made me feel bad. Being the Countess di’ Cameron meant that my wife didn’t often get the chance to cook at home as most women did. What for them was a daily chore, was for her a lucky chance, especially since all our children were home again.

  “I’m still hungry,” I lied.

  She glanced up at me. “It’s cold now.”

  “Cold or hot, I love everything you make,” I answered.

  “Liar,” she replied. “You don’t like my mince pies.”

  I shrugged, “Well, fair enough, but I don’t like anyone’s mince pies, so I don’t count them.”

  She started to rise, “I’ll make you a plate.”

  Motioning for her to stay seated I headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get it, dear. You stay there, and I’ll join you.”

  “Bring me another cup of tea, then,” she told me. “There’s a kettle on the stove already.”

  It took me several minutes to assemble a respectable plate of food that I thought I could finish. The tea steeped while I did that, and before I brought it all back into the family room I crammed my mouth full of ham. Hopefully she would think I had been eating while in the kitchen, which would help explain why my plate wasn’t as full as usual.

  I returned, juggling my plate and two cups of tea, hers and mine. “Here you are, sweetheart,” I said, trying to talk around the food in my mouth.

  “Thank you, Mort,” she said, taking the cup from me. “You don’t have to pretend you’re starving, though. I already know you ate somewhere.”

  I gave her a blank look, “What makes you say that?”

  She tapped her nose.

  The goddamned dragon-bond, I should have known. It didn’t just improve her hearing, but all her senses, as well as granting her extraordinary strength and speed. The Countess di’ Cameron was one of the deadliest warriors in Castle Cameron, though she was disarmingly beautiful.

  “I smelled the stew as soon as you walked in,” she explained. “What was it, lamb?”

  I had thought it was rabbit, but she was probably right. “I’m not certain,” I admitted. “I didn’t want to eat it, but I needed an excuse to keep the cook talking.”

  She laughed, “I highly doubt that. You’ve rarely met a dish you didn’t want to d
evour.”

  “Well, it smelled good, but I had a good idea you’d be cooking tonight and nothing holds a candle to one of your meals,” I replied. That wasn’t strictly true, either. Penny was an exceptional cook, but Castle Cameron boasted an exceptional staff, including its cooks. While I honestly did prefer her food, in the main, I couldn’t claim that she was always superior to the professionals who fed everyone.

  “You are a wicked man, Mordecai Illeniel,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye. “Every time you speak you try to butter me up with that silver tongue.”

  I answered while chewing a large piece of bread that would probably have been much better two hours earlier, “That’s how I got four children.”

  Penny raised one brow, “I only gave you three. How did your tongue manage the fourth?”

  My oldest daughter, Moira, was adopted. We had raised her as a twin to our son, who was biologically of an identical age. “I talked Moira Centyr into entrusting me with her daughter didn’t I?”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Penny. “What did your glib tongue earn you tonight, besides a bowl of lamb stew?”

  It might have been a jealous inquiry, if it had come from another woman. My wife wasn’t the jealous sort, though. She had her faults, but jealousy wasn’t among them. Penny’s biggest flaw was her constant fear for the safety of her family. In the last year she had become even more overprotective.

  I couldn’t say it was paranoia, though. She had every reason to fear. Over the past few months I had been kidnapped, and both of her oldest children had gone missing while trying to find me. All of us had been marked by the experiences as well. Our daughter Moira was dealing with a wound that had left a darkness in her soul, while our son, Matthew, had lost his left hand.

  To top it all off, those events had happened shortly after our youngest daughter had been kidnapped and one of our closest servants murdered.

  We had also been through some extreme events in our younger days, but while our children were growing up we had managed to create a relatively safe and secure environment for them. Our home had been a closely guarded secret, located deep in the Elentir mountains and accessible only through and enchanted portal in Castle Cameron.

  Since Irene’s kidnapping, that security was in doubt. A lot more people knew where we lived. No, I couldn’t blame my wife for her anxiety. She had every reason to worry.

  “Not much,” I answered, “other than a few cups of ale. So far I haven’t found any sign of ANSIS in the villages closest to Halam.”

  “How long are you going to keep searching?” she asked. “We’ve already done a lot for Dunbar. It shouldn’t be your responsibility to keep everyone in the world safe.”

  “There’s no one else to do it,” I replied. “From what Matthew and Moira learned, if those things take hold somewhere and no one notices, it could be too late by the time they get to us. It’s not just their safety, it’s everyone’s.”

  Penny sighed.

  “What?”

  “It’s always the same, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  She waved her hand, “First it was the Shiggreth, and Gododdin, and the Dark Gods, now it’s this ANSIS thing. When will it end?”

  “At least it’s just one enemy this time.”

  “Sure it is,” she replied. “You know better than that. We have more enemies than most nations ever manage to earn. Most of the nobility of Lothion secretly despise us. The only reason they haven’t done anything is because they’re scared to death of you. Even the Queen, your cousin, doesn’t trust us.”

  “That’s not fair,” I told her. “Ariadne loves me, and I’m sure she trusts you.”

  “Clever, Mort. You skirt the truth with facts. Yes, she loves you. In fact, she almost sees you as a brother, since you and Marc were so close, but she doesn’t trust you. And maybe she does trust me, but it’s only in the sense that she hopes I can keep you under control.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “You have to,” said Penny. “Back to the topic at hand, since you didn’t find our elusive enemy, what did you do all day in the hinterlands of Dunbar?”

  I smiled, “Well, I was disguised as Tom the tinker, so I mended a few things. I made a wonderful repair of an iron pot. It’s better than new I think.”

  “And in trade the lady gave you some of her stew?” asked Penny.

  “The stew came from a different lady,” I said. “And what makes you assume it was a woman?”

  Penny smirked, “You’d have mentioned the cook before now if it had been a man. Was she pretty?”

  “Not half so lovely as you,” I returned immediately.

  Her eyes widened, “Oh! So she was gorgeous!”

  “She would have to be, to be half as lovely as you, that’s a given,” I replied. “Besides, her nose was all bent and crooked.”

  Penny’s intuition was once again too good. “You didn’t!”

  “Now you’re jumping to conclusions,” I said.

  “No, I’m not,” insisted Penny. “That’s why you’re late. I know you only have to walk through a town to tell if the people have those things in them. You stayed to fix that woman’s nose.”

  I let my shoulders droop in defeat, “And I mended a pot. Also, she had a limp.”

  Her frown was all for me. “We’ve talked about this.”

  “I felt bad. She lost her family in Halam. We’re partly to blame for that.”

  “We didn’t bring those monsters to Halam. We got rid of them. Whatever happened, they can’t lay it at our feet. You can’t fix everyone, Mort. Why do you do this to yourself?” said Penny. She took my plate from my hands and drew me to my feet. Then she wrapped her arms around me. “It’s not all your fault. None of this is, but you still act like it’s your job to fix everything.”

  “I know that,” I said irritably. Her hair smelled nice, so I laid my head on her shoulder.

  “What’s going to happen if someone finds out you’ve been sneaking around healing people?” asked Penny.

  “It’s not a crime,” I protested. “Some would say it’s a nice thing to do.”

  “Yes, it’s nice, but that’s not the point. People know you’re a wizard, and the people of Washbrook know you can heal some things. With just that little bit, we’ve constantly got people coming to the door, seeking your aid. If they find out just how much you can do, we’ll never have any peace. Right now, it’s just a broken bone or minor wounds, but if people know you can fix bent noses, or straighten a lame leg—you see where that would lead. Don’t you? People will be coming from everywhere, wanting you to heal all manner of sickness and infirmities.”

  “There’s a lot of things I can’t fix,” I corrected her.

  “They won’t know that,” argued Penny. “And when you tell them they’ll blame you for withholding your gift. You’ve been blamed for too many things that weren’t your fault already. Don’t let them add this burden to your shoulders.”

  I nodded, “You make a lot of sense. That’s why I always keep myself disguised.”

  She nipped my ear. “Stupid never dies.”

  “Now you’re using my own words against me.”

  “Am I wrong?” she said with a smile. Then she pulled away. “Let’s go to bed. It’s late.”

  I followed her, giving her derriere a firm squeeze as we went.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” she told me. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

  “Dammit.”

  ***

  As always, the world slowly began to intrude upon me the next morning, but I was warm and the bed was comfortable, so I ignored it. Mornings were simultaneously my favorite and most loathed time of day.

  I suppose it depended on the circumstances that surrounded any given morning, but one thing was certain, it was all or nothing. The good mornings involved me slowly waking up, usually with Penny close by. Those mornings were soft and fuzzy, full of the appreciation one has for a warm bed and nothing pressing to do. They were filled
with the scent of my lovely wife’s hair, the warmth of her back close against me, and—if I was really lucky, an adventuresome frolic before we faced the rest of the world.

  Other mornings were not so kind. No, that was an understatement. The other kind of morning was a misery that deserved to die a cold death. They were composed of a rapid start, urgent events, cold floors and bare feet, or given my uncertain life, sometimes danger.

  If anything, my greatest goal in life was maximizing the number of good mornings I encountered, and minimizing the other kind.

  Today I was hoping for the good kind. I had every reason to expect one. I had gone to bed at a not-too-late hour, with my best friend beside me, and nothing dangerous on the horizon. Those were all good indicators. However, there were other variables that were always uncertain. Primarily, what sort of wakening did my wife have.

  Some days she woke up and attacked the day with a ferocity that I had no desire to share. Those days fell firmly in my to-be-avoided-at-all-cost category, for they usually involved her trying to force me up at some ungodly hour, often using tactics that were cruel and uncalled for.

  My magesight wasn’t functioning yet. I slept with my mind closed, since it was safer. It wasn’t a guarantee that my archmage abilities wouldn’t get me into trouble, but it seemed to minimize the risk. Rather than open my arcane senses, I decided to discover the morning more slowly. Reaching across the bed I found Penny’s thigh close by, warm and soft.

  That’s a good sign, I thought, inching a little closer to her.

  Something whimpered.

  That set me back. Whimpering was not on my list of expected morning events. I cracked one lid open slightly just in time to catch something warm and wet, which made my face scrunch up as my eye closed firmly. “What the hell?”

  I reopened my magesight while simultaneously wiping my face and looking through my fingers. A small furry animal was lying between me and Penny.

  “Isn’t he cute?” Penny cooed. Obviously, she had been waiting for me to wake up.