Magic of Wind and Mist

  My chest tightened.

  Trystan stood up and bowed. “My lady,” he said, whipping his hand around in a flourish. “Even in those dull servant’s clothes you look lovely. Forgive me for not laying out the finest ballgowns in Llambric, but I thought it would be more prudent for you and Isolfr to dress as my servants.”

  I blinked at him. For the first time I noticed what Isolfr was wearing—he was so beautiful in the Mists light that he outshone his coat and trousers. But they were the same dull blue-brown color as my dress, the cut simple and plain.

  “Are you hungry, Miss Hanna?” Trystan asked. “Breakfast is laid out in the second dining room. Isolfr and I were just discussing the plans for our trip, but we’ll be happy to accompany you.” He smiled, as handsome as a hero in a song.

  “I can wait until you’re done,” I said, feeling dazed.

  Trystan nodded and turned back to Isolfr. “Shall you fill her in or should I?” he asked.

  I frowned at that. Of course they were old friends, and Trystan knew this world in a way I didn’t. But the two of them making plans without me reminded me of being onboard the Penelope.

  But then Isolfr said, “I wasn’t trying to keep things from you. I promise. We just planned while you were sleeping, and we thought it should be done as soon as possible—”

  “It’s fine,” I said, more curtly than I intended. Isolfr glanced down at his lap, and I softened my voice and said, “I understand. We need to hurry.”

  “Yes,” said Trystan. “Exactly. We want to travel under cover of disguise—you and Isolfr will be my servants as I take a caravan to some of the great houses of the Mists. It’s been some time since I’ve gone visiting, so no one will question it.”

  “The great houses?” I frowned. “But we need to get to Jandanvar! And you said we needed to hurry.”

  “We do,” Isolfr said.

  “And we will,” Trystan said.

  “But if Trystan simply takes a carriage into Jandanvar, it will look suspicious.” Isolfr leaned forward in his seat and looked at me. “He has no reason to go across the border. We’ve been lucky so far that Lord Foxfollow hasn’t found us. But we can’t trust that luck to hold for much longer.”

  “Yes,” Trystan said, “that’s exactly it. Rest assured that the minute he gets word of two children of the Sun Realms visiting our lands, he’ll have his little beasties flying through the mist to find you. But if those beasties only see Lord Trystan visiting the houses of Tattersall and Penverne and Dumvir, he’ll think nothing of it, and he certainly won’t care that Lord Trystan is winding a trail up to Jandanvar. Because Lord Trystan simply has to visit Lady Garrowglass, whom he hasn’t seen in years. And there will be no question as to why Lord Trystan saw fit to schedule in a side visit to the City Across the Way. It’s a tradition, to go over the boundary into the Sun Realms. That I promise you.” Trystan bowed his head, his eyes closed and his expression solemn. “You will have to travel as servants, of course, in order to go unnoticed. But you’ll be traveling as my personal valets, trainees of Master Sedrick, my current valet. You will not be expected to do anything too unsavory, that I promise.” Another solemn bow.

  Silence fell over the room. I considered the plan. It did make sense in its convoluted way. It was certainly a better course of action than Isolfr’s original plan back in our world, which involved swimming alongside the Penelope and nagging me into talking to him.

  “We’ll be taking my best carriage,” Trystan continued. “Enchanted with the finest protection spells. It is—if you’ll forgive me for being so dramatic—the only way.”

  I glanced over Isolfr, looking resplendent despite his plain servant’s clothes. He smiled bravely at me.

  “Won’t the noble families ask why you have servants from the, ah, the Sun Realms?” I asked, turned back to Trystan.

  “Oh, no need to worry,” Trystan said, waving his hand around in the air. “It’s a bit of a fad to bring in children of the Sun Realms to serve in the great houses. That’s the real genius of this scheme. I assure you that they’ll find you a novelty and nothing more.”

  I was discomfited by that admission, and by how breezily Trystan divulged it. Bring in children of the Sun Realms. He meant kidnap, surely.

  I thought back on the servants I had seen in his house, scurrying through the hallways on quiet feet. Had they possessed colored eyes, brown and blue and hazel? Or had they all been that oppressive gray?

  I couldn’t remember.

  “Please, Hanna,” Isolfr said, leaning over the space between our chairs. “Trystan’s right, this is the best plan we have—”

  “It’s going to delay us getting to Jandanvar,” I said. I didn’t say, It’s going to delay us getting home.

  “Better delayed than—than stopped completely.”

  We looked at each other. The light was almost warm on my shoulders, a lemony brightness that seemed at odds with all that I’d learned about the Mists in my childhood—with all the dangers of the Mists we were about to face.

  “Well, I think that settles it,” said Trystan, clapping his hands together. “A spot of breakfast before we leave, then?”

  I wasn’t hungry, but I nodded anyway.

  • • •

  The carriage we were to travel to Jandanvar in was, on the outside, the same size and design as the one Isolfr and I had ridden to Trystan’s manor. On the inside, however, it was larger than my cottage back home in Kjora, with a labyrinthine hallway and individual rooms, like cabins on a ship. There was a large sitting room, furnished not with pillows but with lush, high-backed chairs, and a small kitchen staffed by a surly looking woman who scowled at us whenever we passed by.

  “That’s Miss Cordelia,” Trystan explained. “One of the greatest cooks in the Mists, but she does have a nasty temper, so stay on her good side. Sedrick can tell you more.”

  The mysterious Sedrick had not boarded the carriage yet, although I had seen him from afar, helping to order the entourage of servants’ carriages that would travel behind us. He was a tall, broad man, with long dark hair pulled back into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck.

  “The extra carriages make the trip more authentic,” Trystan explained to me. We were up on the roof of the main carriage, sitting in the riders’ seats and watching the proceedings below. “It’s customary to bring as many servants as one can afford when one goes visiting.” Trystan brushed one hand through his hair. His expression hardened. “That’s a large part of the reason I haven’t gone traveling in recent years. I didn’t want the other great houses to know how close to ruin my family was.” His eyes glinted like flints of steely rock. “I’ll be glad to see Lord Foxfollow gone. From this world, from your world. From all worlds.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Isolfr was down below—he claimed the odd light of the Mists did not agree with him—and suddenly I wished I wasn’t alone with Trystan. He was depending on me to avenge his family, his lineage, and I was a fisherman’s apprentice and a fisherman’s daughter. For the first time, I wondered, really wondered, how I’d come to be here.

  An elegant voice called Trystan’s name from down below. Trystan leaned over the hatch. “Yes, Sedrick?” he called out.

  “It’s time, my lord. The servants’ carriages are ready, and if we delay much longer then we won’t be out of the dragon lands by nightfall.”

  “Very well, very well.” Trystan glanced over at me. “I suppose it’s time.”

  “The dragon lands?” I said. “But won’t they attack during the day? That’s when we were attacked—”

  “That wasn’t the dragon lands,” Trystan said. “They travel, the same as we do, and you were attacked by travelers on my lands, hence my right to kill them. But if we travel through the little sliver of dragon lands at night, well—” He looked out at the horizon. “It violates certain ancient treaties. Nothing you need to worry about.” He gave me a handsome smile and then jumped down the hatch, drifting on the magic already activated inside the carriage. I fol
lowed, floating down like a falling leaf. I still wasn’t used to it, that drifting, tumbling sensation.

  Master Sedrick waited for us in the common room. Isolfr was there too, standing at attention. He’d disguised himself to look more human, just in case, and I found myself missing the real Isolfr. His new face—his Pjetur face—made me feel alone.

  Then Isolfr smiled at me, and for a moment I saw a flash of the real him glimmering beneath the surface.

  “Very well,” Trystan said. “What do you need me to do?”

  Master Sedrick flicked his fingers in a gesture too quick and complicated for me to follow. The hatch slid shut overhead, and the walls began to hum.

  “Everyone’s waiting for your command,” he said.

  Trystan sighed like a little boy asked to do chores. “Carriage of Llambric,” he said in a bored tone, “let us begin our journey.”

  Master Sedrick gave a satisfied nod, and the humming in the walls turned to steamy wheezing. We rumbled forward.

  “No turning back,” Trystan murmured. Isolfr looked over at him as if he wanted to say something, to offer some words of condolence, but Master Sedrick made a disapproving cough in the back of his throat.

  “You’re not to address Lord Trystan when you’re acting as his servant,” Master Sedrick said. “Wait until he addresses you.”

  “Oh, leave him be.” Trystan scowled. “We’re alone in the carriage save for Miss Cordelia, and you know she can keep a secret better than anyone in the manor.”

  Master Sedrick demurred, tilting his head toward the floor. “That’s very much true, my lord. But it’s better to develop the habit now, when a mistake won’t be an issue. It would be devastating when we are among the great houses.”

  I gazed at Master Sedrick with a vague sense of surprise. Of course he knew about our little ruse, but I hadn’t expected him to be so conniving.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Trystan said. He slapped one hand on Isolfr’s back. “This is it, then, my old friend. We’ll have to reconnect in Jandanvar.”

  “It’s for the best,” Isolfr said.

  Trystan nodded. He had a distant air about him, as if our conversation up on the carriage top had taken him someplace else. “The protection spells are making me feel a bit woozy. Travel always gets to me anyway.”

  “Why don’t you lie down,” Master Sedrick said. “I can see to Isolfr and Hanna.”

  I wondered what that meant, see to us. We were supposed to learn how to be servants on the trip, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to start my lessons yet. What I really wanted was time to think about what we were going to do once we made it to Jandanvar. I’d been reminded that this entire trip, the carriages and the aid of Master Sedrick, came with a price.

  And I didn’t know if I was capable of paying it.

  “Yes, lying down, that would be lovely.” Trystan gave a short nod to me, then to Isolfr. “I suppose I need to get used to treating you as my servants, as well. My endless apologies, both of you.”

  “It’s what we have to do,” Isolfr said.

  Trystan nodded and then drifted out of the room, carrying his aura of nobility with him.

  Master Sedrick cleared his throat.

  Isolfr and I both turned toward him and were met with a thin, forced smile. He didn’t seem practiced in smiling.

  “I have duties to attend to,” he said. “Certain documents to arrange in order to pass through the dragon lands. But tomorrow, we will begin discussing your behavior as servants. We’ll arrive at the first great house in two days’ time. Tattersall Manor, the ancestral home of Lord and Lady Alfara.” He looked us up and down, his nose wrinkled. I felt myself diminishing into my clothes. “We’ll have to find a way to keep you out of sight until you’re ready.”

  Before either of us could answer, Master Sedrick stalked out of the room.

  “Well,” I said, after a moment’s silence, “that was reassuring.”

  “He’s looking out for us,” Isolfr said. “Master Sedrick, he’s helping us not get caught.”

  I sighed and slumped down in one of the nearby chairs. My weight sank into its cushions and I realized I didn’t ever want to climb back out again. “Did you ever think that we’re in over our heads?” I asked. “That this plan might be too complicated? Why couldn’t we just travel in secret, alone?”

  “It’s too far.” Isolfr slid into the chair beside me. He leaned in close enough that I could smell something sweet about him, like flowers coated in ice. “We need to be cautious.”

  “You always say that, and you’re always too cautious.” I glared at him. “You refused to tell Frida and Kolur about what you were doing, and dragged everything out instead of just explaining—”

  “I’m not wrong about this,” Isolfr said. “Lord Foxfollow is looking for us. He has to know by now that we’re here—that protection spell wouldn’t have lasted that long. We’d never be able to travel the distance to Jandanvar without Trystan’s aid. And all this,” he waved his hand around the cavernous sitting room, “is what Trystan has to do in order to travel without arousing Lord Foxfollow’s suspicion.”

  I slumped down in my chair. I hated everything about this plan, but I knew there was no way to protest it. I wasn’t about to travel through the Mists alone.

  “We’ll be there soon,” Isolfr said. “Sooner than we’d like, I imagine.”

  I looked over at him. His bland human face made it even easier to read his expression. He was afraid.

  I was afraid too.

  I nodded in agreement.

  CHAPTER NINE

  We arrived at our first great house two days later.

  The journey itself was dull, with only the occasional lessons from Master Sedrick to break up the monotony. Even those were few and far between. He’d sweep in while Isolfr and I were lounging in our quarters, dispense a bit of nonsensical advice—Always keep your gaze downturned, never look anyone in the eye, never speak unless spoken to, try and stay out of eyesight unless called upon—on and on. I’d never known anyone who had proper servants, and I couldn’t imagine a world where you ignored most of the people living in your house.

  Despite our lack of preparation, it was almost a relief to arrive at the first house, since it meant a break in the routine. It was also a reminder that we were closer to Jandanvar than we’d been two days ago, which was not so much a relief as a sharp twist of anxiety in my chest.

  “Do you want to see it?” Trystan swept into my quarters, fluttering around like a butterfly in his long flapping coat. It was a nicer coat than the one he’d been wearing, with sparkling gold buttons at the cuffs. That was how I knew we’d arrived.

  “We’re here? At Tattersall Manor?”

  “That we are. It’s quite a grand sight, if you’ve never seen it before.” He gestured for me to join him. “It was always my favorite part of visiting,” he added, “seeing the houses for the first time.”

  I slid out of my bed and followed him out into the hallway. Isolfr was waiting for us, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Come, come,” Trystan said, “or we’ll miss it and then what’ll be the point? I’ll have to dine with Lady Alfara and listen to her inane stories for nothing.”

  I stifled a laugh at that, but Isolfr looked too nervous to be amused.

  We all piled into the common room together. Trystan instructed the carriage to float us up to the hatch in his booming spellcaster’s voice, and the air swooshed out of me and I drifted upward. Trystan pushed the hatch open and sweet-scented wind billowed inside. I took a deep breath; I hadn’t been out in the open since we left, and Master Sedrick had forbidden us from leaving the hatch open as the carriage traveled. Trystan must have dispatched him somehow, so that we could climb onto the roof in peace.

  I hung back so Trystan could clamber up first—I was trying to remember my place as his servant. Isolfr glanced over at me.

  “I hope this works,” he said.

  I knew he wasn’t talking about going up on the roof. “It was
your idea,” I said.

  “I can’t have second doubts?”

  “You never have anything but second doubts.” I pushed up through the hatch, trying to shove my worry away. The last two days had been nothing but a constant, low-grade anxiety; I wanted for one moment to feel free.

  The first thing I noticed when I stuck my head through the hatch was the rush of magic, from the carriage’s protection spells and the surrounding air both. The veins of magic were stronger here than they were back in Llambric, strong enough that I could feel the magic vibrating through my bloodstream, that my head spun with the strength of it. And then I was aware of the icy edge on the wind, and a sweet scent like honey and flowers, and the ceaseless brightness of the illuminated sky.

  I reeled from the strength of so much stimulation after the dull, dim carriage.

  “Look,” Trystan shouted over the wind. “Isn’t that something?”

  I couldn’t see anything, just the glare from the sky, an endless starburst of sourceless white light.

  “Amazing,” Isolfr breathed, his mouth close to my ear.

  I squinted and brought my hand up to shield my eyes. Slowly shapes filtered through the brightness: the curving lines of short, strange trees blossoming with flowers, the pebbly road, and a mountain growing up out of the horizon, asymmetrical and beautiful and ancient and strange.

  No, not a mountain. A great house. Tattersall Manor.

  “That’s where we’re going?” I said stupidly.

  Trystan glanced over at me and laughed. “Yes. It’s something, isn’t it?” He leaned back against the carriage’s roof and sighed. “The Alfara family grew it, you know. Out of magic and stone.” He nodded at the trees lining the road. “Same with those things. They don’t grow anywhere else. If you listen closely you can hear them singing.”

  I stared at the manor and tried to imagine the strength of magic required to grow a house. No wonder I’d been inundated by it when I climbed up here.