A cursory examination told me that the book held very little in the way of instruction or explanation. Whoever had owned this book previously had obviously made it to be portable and durable, and he or she hadn’t needed much in the way of explanation. This was a book for someone already well-practiced in the art of enchanting, for what it contained were formulae and fully functional diagrams of enchantments.

  Still I would rather have a book of functional designs rather than a primer with no real world applications. I had already discovered the basics on my own anyway, or most of them I hoped. I felt certain that using these I could work backward to figure out how they worked. Many of the designs I found were similar to ones I had already created. I gave myself a mental pat on the back, not bad for a beginner, I thought.

  Eventually I decided I should go back outside before anyone started looking for me. Closing the book I watched as it quickly shrank back down to its previous size. It really was an amazing effect, though I still didn’t understand how it worked. Looking around I tried to discern the mechanism for re-opening the door.

  Thankfully it was just as simple as entering. The wall behind me held a similar pattern to the one I had activated on the other side. I reached up to touch it but a stray thought made me pause. Given that I was in a secret room it seemed obvious I should make sure no one was outside before I opened the door again. Normally I would simply use my arcane senses to check whether anyone was nearby, and I did try, but I failed.

  In most cases failure isn’t that unusual, but this time was an exception. I was unable to sense anything beyond the small room I stood within. It was as though I had entered a small bubble of reality, encapsulated by an endless void. Now that I was paying attention the sensation was shocking.

  It reminded me somewhat of my first experience with the shiggreth, when I discovered I was completely unable to sense their physical presence, except as an absence. This was similar, except now the effect had extended to the entire world; the only thing I could perceive was the tiny room I was inside. My heart rate sped up as an involuntary moment of panic sent adrenaline coursing through my veins. I got my fear under control quickly. I had never been one to let fear trump reason.

  Taking a slow steady breath I put my hand out to the pattern, where my fingertips should activate the enchantment that controlled the door. As my fingers touched it I felt the same tingle I had felt before and then I became aware of the world beyond the room I was in again. The door didn’t open, for I hadn’t withdrawn my hand yet, but the connection between me and the enchantment had restored my ability to sense the world outside.

  Interesting, I thought to myself. The enchantment must make the room itself invisible to mage-sight, and conversely it makes it impossible to sense the world outside when you’re within it. It was a cunning piece of work and I found myself admiring the cleverness of whoever had originally designed it. Not only was the room undetectable from the outside, but whoever was inside could see to tell if anyone was outside before opening the door, although that would probably make them visible to mage-sight.

  “Can’t have everything I guess,” I said to myself and then I took my hand away from the enchantment. Seconds later the door opened and I stepped out into the main library. The door closed behind me and once it was shut I could no longer sense anything of the room I had just been inside. That really is a clever piece of work, I thought. I hoped the pattern would be among the other schemata I had inside the book I now held. Not that it mattered… I could copy it from the walls themselves if need be. I felt sure it might be useful to me someday.

  I turned and made my way to the door. I could sense Marc on his way up the stairs and something about his stride told me he had something important to discuss.

  Chapter 21

  I met Marc just outside the library, pretending to some surprise at finding him there. I did things like that often, pretending to be surprised when I met people, mostly to put them at ease. I had come to the conclusion early on that it only upset people when they knew I was aware of their every movement when they were near me. No one likes to feel as if they are continually being watched. It wasn’t as if I really watched people constantly, usually it was more like the background noise in a busy room. You hear the voices but you don’t know what they’re saying until you pay attention to one or another of them. My mage-sight was similar, I could focus upon an individual and see as much as I liked, up to about a mile away, but in practice I couldn’t possibly watch everyone. It would have driven me insane.

  If they knew how much I could see I doubt anyone would have been comfortable living within Castle Cameron. In reality though, people’s lives are… for the most part, incredibly boring. Still I pretended to be as normal as possible, to avoid making everyone uncomfortable.

  “Don’t act surprised to see me,” Marc said, as if he could read my thoughts.

  I frowned, “What do you mean?”

  “You always overdo your acting. Since it’s just me you don’t have to bother. I know you can see me from one end of the house to the other, so you don’t have to pretend to be surprised when I find you.”

  I couldn’t fault his logic. Bastard knows me too well, I thought with a grin. “You’re too sharp for your own good. I hope you realize that?” I said.

  He struck a pose of intense concentration, putting one hand on his chin and the other on his hip, “The thought had occurred to me,” he said smugly. “I try not to flaunt my gifts too much though; it might make others feel inadequate.”

  I laughed. “Are you going to tell me what you found or spend all day congratulating yourself?” I asked.

  He pretended to ponder my words seriously for a moment. “That’s a tough one,” he said at last, “but the real question is how do you know I found something?”

  “Magic,” I answered immediately, “that and the fact you have a book tucked under your arm and you were looking for me with a certain air of urgency.”

  He looked down at the book he held. “I guess you have me on that one.” He walked past me, into the library I had just left. “Here let me show you,” he said sitting down at the closest reading table. I followed him and sat down in a nearby chair. “I took a stack of promising books to my room last night, to look through before I fell asleep. I found this tucked inside one of them.” He pulled out a neatly folded sheet of paper, yellow from age.

  “Which book was it in?” I asked.

  He held up the book he had been carrying, ‘An Illuminated Guide to the Birds of Lothion’, read the title.

  “Why would you have even taken that one to search through?” I said curiously.

  Marc smirked sheepishly. “Sometimes I get tired looking through so many serious tomes. This one has a lot of really lovely illustrations, all carefully hand painted. I was looking through it purely for enjoyment.” He shrugged helplessly.

  I shook my head. Even though we’d been friends for nearly twenty years now I had never known he was interested in birds. Perhaps I wasn’t as observant as I thought. I opened the paper carefully, for it was brittle. Once it was unfolded I could see it was a letter, and the handwriting was familiar to me.

  My Dear Friend,

  I cannot say much here, for I fear this letter may never reach you. I must assume you received my last letter for I have not gotten a reply yet but that is not unusual these days. They watch my correspondences carefully, of that I am sure. Quite possibly they have stolen your replies to keep me from seeing them.

  Vendraccus moves more freely now and I suspect he will attempt to unseat me soon. There are none left now that I can trust. I hate to sound morbid, but this may be my last letter. A source close to Vendraccus has given me information that I think may be of importance to you, though I do not understand its meaning. I cannot even be sure if it is the truth; my own spies are untrustworthy and may be feeding me misinformation.

  I have been told that Vendraccus has been charged by his god to find something known as ‘Illeniel’s Doom’. My infor
mant was unsure what ‘it’ might actually be, but he said that by the conversation he overheard it sounded like something living, such as a person or creature.

  Whether this helps you or not, I do not know, but I assumed that the name would have some meaning to you.

  Good luck. I cannot tell you how much your friendship has meant to me over the years, especially now that I find myself alone, surrounded by strangers.

  Sincerely,

  V.

  I had seen a letter similar to this one previously; in my father’s writing desk the first time I had explored the house. I was also sure it had been signed much the same way, with a simple initial. At the time I had been unsure who had sent the letter to him, but given the content of this one I was starting to believe it really had been Valerius, the last king of Gododdin. I had no idea how he had become friends with the man, but then my father’s life was still mostly a mystery to me.

  I looked at Marc, “You know what this means?”

  He shook his head negatively.

  “Me either,” I admitted. “Although it really does seem that my father had some sort of on-going friendship with the king of Gododdin.”

  Marc let out a deep sigh. “I had really hoped you might be able to make something of that.”

  “It isn’t your fault,” I said. “So far my only sources of information about this thing have been from the gods themselves, and we know how reliable they are.”

  My friend looked sharply at me as I spoke. “You’re absolutely right.”

  I grinned, “I’ll need you to write that down and sign it for me. I can use it the next time you’re being stubborn.”

  He shook his head again, “No, I really mean it. All the information you have about this ‘Doom’ comes from the gods, first from Celior, and now indirectly from Mal’goroth. I should be looking through the church archives, not this library.”

  “I don’t think your search here is entirely a waste,” I told him. “After all this is the only known library of the Illeniel family, so it seems an obvious choice to search.”

  “True,” he agreed, “and I have learned a lot of interesting tidbits while I was looking here. We’ll have to sit down for a week or two sometime. You would be surprised at some of the general information about wizardry, the gods, and even people like Dorian that can be found here.”

  “Dorian?”

  “Yes,” he said smugly. “Dorian is, as far as I can tell, what your ancestors called a ‘stoic’.” He folded his arms in front of him, waiting for me to ask the inevitable questions.

  I waved a hand nonchalantly at him, “Oh yes, I knew that. I learned about them in Vestrius’ journal, but I would like to see what books you found the information in… I’m sure there’s a lot more I need to know.” I knew my phrasing would irritate him, but then, that’s what friends are for… right?

  “Sometimes you really are a wet blanket. You know that?” he said with resignation. “You could at least pretend to be excited, just to make your friend feel better.”

  I winked at him, “A friend told me recently that I ‘overdo’ my acting and I should just be honest. It seemed like good advice.”

  Marc grimaced in mock pain, as if my joke had wounded his delicate sense of humor. Rose appeared in the doorway before he could prepare a good come back though. “From the look of things I doubt you gentlemen are up to anything good,” she said.

  Marc held up his hands, “For once I am innocent of all wrongdoing, though I cannot be so sure of our friend the incipient thespian here,” he said pointing at me.

  An arched eyebrow was all the response he got. Rose ignored our banter and asked a question instead, “I need to visit my father, would either of you gentlemen care to escort me?”

  I knew for a fact she wasn’t afraid to walk the streets of Albamarl by herself. After all the last time we had been here together she had crossed half the city at night, alone. She was simply being polite, and perhaps offering us a chance to stretch our legs. She could have just taken one of my guards with her if all she wanted was an escort.

  I glanced at Marc and found him watching me. We knew each other well enough that it only took a glance for us to communicate volumes. I was planning to volunteer if he didn’t feel like going out, but he wanted to go. I waited and Marc answered her, “I’ll come with you Rose. I was hoping to stretch my legs in town today and I couldn’t think of anyone who would be better company.”

  “Thank you for the offer Rose, but I’ll let you two go without me. I have some things I’d like to take care of,” I said, chiming in.

  “More research?” she asked.

  “Essentially,” I replied. “I found some interesting information in the library and I’d like to test some ideas.”

  “Experiment, that’s what he really means,” said Marc said with a chuckle, “It’s probably safer if we leave anyway Rose.”

  “I wasn’t planning to try anything dangerous,” I said without humor.

  “Sure, sure… I believe you,” he replied, “but I made a promise to Mother after all, and I can’t go back on that.”

  I stared at him quizzically, “You made a promise to Genevieve?”

  He gazed at the ceiling innocently, “Yes, she said that she had to shout at you once over tea… when she had come to visit. Apparently you had nearly blown yourself to bits during some experiment and you were half deaf as a result. I had to promise her that I wouldn’t go near you if you were doing any future experiments. She was very worried…”

  I knew for a fact she would never have forced him to make such a promise. Well, I was pretty sure anyway. The more I thought about it the less sure I became… he was her son after all.

  Rose started laughing and then exclaimed, “Oh that’s nothing! You should have seen him the day he first tried to get into this house! He nearly fried himself and his hair was standing on end for hours afterward.”

  The conversation was rapidly devolving into one long joke at my expense. “I’d have thought you two had already told each other these stories,” I put in.

  Rose smiled at me, “We all have other things to talk about you do realize? We don’t just sit around talking about you all the time.”

  “Well no, I didn’t think that,” I said caught off guard. My legendary wit had abandoned me, so I settled for escorting them to the doorway.

  Rose gracefully took Marc’s arm and the two of them left the library. They kept talking as they went, having stumbled upon a juicy subject. As they went down the stairs I could still hear them. Marc was telling another story, “You should have seen the day he tried to tell Penny he was a wizard. He nearly convinced her he was working with the powers of darkness and when I saw her bolt from his room I thought he had tried to assault her…”

  It was several minutes before I turned my attention back to the silver-bound book I carried. I had the rest of the day to myself now and I didn’t intend to waste it. Drawing out the silver stylus I started thumbing through the book, considering what I should try first.

  Chapter 22

  The sun was shining down like the wrath of a vengeful god, causing me to squint. While some people love sunny days I found them to be intrusive. The bards sing of cloudless skies and bright sun, but I honestly preferred a few clouds and a bit of shade. Not that I minded the sunshine, it was a welcome respite from the past winter… it was just that sometimes it was too much. Especially with hundreds, perhaps even thousands of people staring at me.

  That many eyes watching made me understandably nervous, and with the glare from the sun overhead I couldn’t see their faces clearly. Of course I could have closed my eyes and simply relied on my mage-sight, but sometimes there’s just no substitute for seeing something with your own eyes, a mob of strangers staring at me being at the top of that list.

  “…and while the Baron of Arundel abandoned his people to the unkind mercies of the enemy, this man, stayed to defend them!” King Edward’s voice rose to a crescendo while his arms waved to highlight me standin
g beside him. “This man stayed, to protect his people, to protect his neighbor’s people… and to protect us! All the while his fellow lord, the craven Baron, was here… spreading lies and dissent. Even so, this man, the Count di’Cameron, stayed to do his duty, both to kingdom and crown, and so doing he saved us all.”

  I was finding it difficult to keep from fidgeting as I stood there. Being the object of an unrestrained river of praise and compliments was more uncomfortable than I had imagined. Not that I had ever imagined such a barrage of half-truths and exaggerations. Well I had to admit the last part was true, but much of what had come before had been outright fabrication.

  Apparently the late Baron was a scoundrel and coward of immense proportions, who had not only run from danger and abandoned his people, but also a tremendous liar who had worked tirelessly to have our hero, yours truly, deposed so that he could receive my lands. This ignored the fact that my lands would have reverted to the Duke of Lancaster if I had had my title stripped from me. According to the tale, the baron was soon confronted by our wise and good king, once he had learned of the plot. Naturally the villainous baron had attempted to kill the good king once he realized that he would not be fooled by the baron’s wicked lies.

  All of this led of course, to today, when I, the loyal servant would be rewarded for my faithful service in protecting the kingdom from both treacherous cowards and powerful armies. The tale was so sickeningly sweet I could almost hear my mother warning me that I would get a tummy ache if I listened to any more.

  While I wasn’t particularly heart-broken about Sheldon’s sudden execution I didn’t think he fully deserved to be hanged for his cowardice. Worse I knew he had been executed simply to smooth the way for my ‘reward’ today. My thoughts flew apart at that moment, for Harold had just nudged my elbow and I realized I had lost track of what the king had been saying. I looked at the king with a question in my eyes.