The Sleeping Life (Eferum Book 2) (7 page)

"Just until they get a hint of where he is, from the sounds of it. I doubt they're planning to let Rennyn anywhere near him either, and think Sukata and I make good babysitters."

"You could have taken the option of staying here and having me play tutor."

"I know why Rennyn finds that idea so funny, now."

"Pft."

"When you study you have no sense of time, Sebastian," Sukata said, sounding all grave, but with her eyes bright with the Kellian version of laughter. "We would spend our day making sure you are eating, and finding you the books you want."

"Well, at least you'd get to hear me rant about my latest theory," Sebastian said, with a quick look at Kendall, who had made a few pointed comments about said ranting. "Or you could help me look for this house I'm supposed to buy while everyone's gone. Not to mention liaise with the people she's sending up to Surclere to survey its condition. Do you know what room Rennyn wanted the divination set in?"

As usual, Sukata had paid far more attention to their instructions than anyone else, and at her direction they returned to their rooms to change to more everyday clothes, and then met in the rarely-used Sentene dining hall. Kendall had spent some time carefully putting away her fancy Court clothes, but still found only Sebastian when she arrived.

"Sukata's gone to find out about the meal," he said, hefting one end of a bench. Kendall pulled a face, but helped him move some of the furniture aside so there was room enough to chalk a circle on the floor. Thinking it would have been more sensible to have the Kellian-strong Sukata move the furniture while Kendall annoyed people in the kitchen, she sat down to watch Sebastian marking out sigils.

"Has Rennyn had an argument with Captain Faille?"

The glance he gave her wasn't pleased. Sebastian acted very easy-going, but as soon as you touched something he didn't want to talk about you'd hit a wall bigger than a mountain. This time, though, he went on to sigh and shake his head.

"Not Illidian. The Kellian as a group have asked her to visit the place they used to live before they returned to Tyrland. Aurai's Rest. She's not happy about something they've asked her to do there."

The set of his jaw told Kendall that he didn't want to talk about it, so she altered course. "You've gotten used to calling him Illidian."

"More or less. He is my brother by law, after all. It was a real adjustment at first, since it's been just Ren and me for so long, and we actively discouraged people from getting near us. It was like, as soon as we stopped hiding, Ren, ah—"

"Started collecting people?"

"Well, that too. But I was thinking in terms of her priorities changing. All of a sudden there was someone more important to her than me." He shrugged, and glanced over the last sigil he'd drawn. "I suppose you picked up on how subdued she's been the last couple of days?"

Kendall hid a smirk. The best way to get Sebastian to come across was to change the subject. That gave him the chance to think things over, and maybe decide to spill some more.

"She stopped noticing stuff," Kendall said. "When your sister's upset, the first thing she does is try to hide it. She sometimes manages that, but she broods, and pays less attention to what everyone else is doing. She stopped reading the newssheets. And though she still acts the same whenever Captain Faille comes into the room, sometimes she doesn't notice when he leaves."

"Hard to believe you've only been with us a couple of months." Sebastian tapped the chalk he was using on the floor. "Did you know she has nightmares about killing them? Not from the spell we cast, but accidentally. She has to watch everything she says, because a few careless words—she could tell Sukata 'wait here' and Sukata would. Forever. And they've
asked
her to give them an order, to—" He paused. "Well, she'll tell you soon enough. Will you do something for me?"

"What?" Kendall asked, warily. Sebastian didn't ask for anything, as a rule.

"Look after her."

He didn't say anything else, and Kendall didn't really need more. They'd have a whole bunch of dangerous people with them to keep monsters away, but it was herself that Rennyn needed protection from.

"Am I supposed to call him 'Lord Faille' now?" she asked, disliking the whole mess about Rennyn's health.

"'My lord'. Or 'Lord Surclere' if you're talking about him."

"Is Herself 'Duchess Rennyn', 'Duchess Surclere', or 'Duchess Claire'?"

"Not the last one. Technically, if you're talking about her it's 'Rennyn, Duchess of Surclere', but that's old-fashioned usage, so Duchess Surclere is what most people will use. Are you really planning on using her titles?"

"No," Kendall said firmly. "And if you think I'm 'my lording' you, try for another answer."

Sebastian just laughed, then looked up at an arrival.

"Here they are. Ah, and lunch." Lieutenant Meniar, tall, naturally tan and disturbingly cheerful, poked his nose in the door, his big, black Sentene cloak hanging open. All enthusiasm and energy, he crossed to meet Sukata as she arrived with an oversized platter. "There's more?" He disappeared toward the kitchens, followed by his Kellian partner, Lieutenant Faral. Lieutenant Meniar was always like that, enjoying everything unnecessarily, but it was hard to be annoyed with him.

Other people started arriving, Sentene and Hand mages who could never resist news that one of the Claires was going to talk about magic. The quiet room filled with people chatting and eating and asking Sebastian questions. Eavesdropping on a conversation between two Hand mages snarking about Lieutenant Meniar being a 'no more than average' mage, Kendall almost didn't notice when Rennyn finally arrived.

She was in her sneaky bed clothes. Back when Rennyn had been stuck in the infirmary, with people constantly visiting her, Captain Faille had produced a collection of what he called Verisian lounging suits. They were knee-length fancy shirts paired with matching light trousers, comfortable enough to sleep in, but making Rennyn look like she was dressed for visits. It was the first thing that had made Kendall feel maybe Rennyn wasn't so wrong marrying Captain Faille, that he'd seen she didn't like talking to people while in a nightgown, and figured out how to fix it.

Rennyn usually didn't wander around in the lounging things, but often wore them during days when she wasn't going outside so she could comfortably go to bed without changing clothes. She'd probably not been expecting the horde crowding the dining hall, or that they would start applauding her once they saw her, but she just smiled and shrugged, said thank you, and went back to talking to the blond-haired scut, who was following her like he'd been invited.

"What's she thinking?" Kendall hissed to Sukata, who shook her head, eyes confused. But that was Rennyn all over—full of inexplicable whims.

Sebastian looked up and caught sight of the boy, but he wasn't one for scenes, so he just looked down again and finished the last few sigils. Like most complicated castings, it had been chalked in a big circle to strengthen and confine the purpose. The sigils were in a language called Efanian, which mages had made up so that their spells didn't get confused over words that had more than one meaning.

It was no surprise, since words were so important to them, that mages loved to talk about them. They could all read the spell, but by the time they'd done asking Sebastian why this word, why that word, how much power it would take to cast, what kind of range it could potentially reach, Kendall had managed to finish off two helpings of lunch, and had had to poke Rennyn awake when she started to fall asleep over her own plate. But that did give her the opportunity to point her chin to the blond boy in the crowd around the Lieutenant and say: "You know who his uncle is?"

Rennyn, of course, found the question funny. "He told me. Said it was one of the three good reasons I'd have to not take him on as a student. The second was that he'd made himself objectionable to my other students, and couldn't guarantee he wouldn't do so again since sometimes he means to be polite but simply forgets and asks about things he wants to know."

"A complete and total prat, in other words. What was the third reason?"

"He likes magic too much."

"That's a bad thing?"

"It could be."

"Tell me you didn't agree to teach him."

"I told him I'd think about it, but that I'm not looking for more students. Still, we had an interesting discussion on circle-turning and how magic was re-learnt after the Elder Mages had killed themselves off and left everyone else to deal with creatures spilling out of the Eferum. How was he objectionable?"

"He asked me if I could read."

"Oh? And which do you think he was being? Deliberately rude, or forgetful?"

Kendall gave her a sour look. "You like him."

"He reminds me of Seb. I don't know if the differences are positive ones, though." She paused, then smiled at someone over Kendall's shoulder, and there was no need to turn around to know it was Captain Faille. There was only one person who made Rennyn look like that.

He had the double-sized Sentene mage called Medan with him, and stopped to say something to Lieutenant Meniar that made Meniar's excited smile fade. Too much talking, not enough business.

Captain Medan came on toward Rennyn, and put something into her hand with a murmur of "Mission accomplished," but Kendall didn't get to see what that was about because Captain Faille was close on Medan's heels, helping Rennyn to her feet and giving her a hand into the centre of the circle.

"Like most spells of this sort, the aim here is to not kill the caster," she said, settling down cross-legged. "Since it's likely that my focus is a considerable distance away, we modified a standard location spell to give only the briefest and vaguest response. It's still a very tiring spell. Are you ready, Lieutenant?"

"As I'll ever be." Meniar began walking around Rennyn, pushing power into the sigils so that they glowed. Sigillic magic was totally different from the kind Kendall had been learning. There was no effort in controlling what was happening: you wrote down what you wanted, you put power into the words, and that was it.

Of course, if you'd worded the spell badly, or if you didn't have enough power, it could all turn out very nasty. People said Thought Magic was dangerous, but at least it didn't make your heart stop if you 'over-committed' yourself.

Kendall had seen Sebastian cast this spell before, so wasn't particularly surprised when the sigils on the western side flushed blue, just for a moment. That was the direction of Rennyn's focus, which is something she would really like to get back even if she wasn't looking for her monster uncle.

Most really good mages tried going into the Eferum—the place outside the world where magic and monsters came from—and using all their strength to make a thing called a focus, which was almost as much a part of you as a finger and made you a lot more powerful. You weren't supposed to try until you were at least nineteen, and a lot of mages never did at all. Rennyn's had been really special, and had been stolen by her horrid many-greats-uncle.

This wasn't a spell where Kendall could sort out what the magic was doing, unlike some that people cast where she could now tell what the spell was meant to do. It made it dull to watch, other than for the pasty grey shade Lieutenant Meniar turned.

"It's not even specific to variations like north-west or south-west," Sebastian said. "And until you get closer—in fact, until you're starting to return an indication of 'east' instead of 'west', I wouldn't risk altering to a more specific casting."

"We leave in three days," Captain Faille said. "Split in Port Enara and re-join in Koletor."

And then chase all over the western kingdoms for a monster who would probably like nothing more than to have Rennyn delivered to him. Sebastian wasn't the only one worried how things would turn out.

CHAPTER FIVE

"DeVries. Take that smug look off your face and sit down."

Fallon sat, wondering how his wary puzzlement translated to 'smug', then waited to find out why he was there. A summons to the House Master's office usually meant a lecture, and Fallon had already had two in the first part of the year, all about the need to balance study and practice with rest and resilience. Each time, they'd doubled his weekly exercise schedule.

That had helped, much to his surprise. For all he'd been taught that physical hardiness made casting safer, Fallon hadn't expected the ordeal of jogging around the palace's protective circle to reward him with less exhausted mornings. But he hadn't kept it up during the extended break following the attack on the Arkathan, and now didn't seem able to get ahead of his own weariness. Or perhaps simply the sense of defeat.

"I can see you already know why you're here," the House Master said. "I won't congratulate you, just offer a note of caution. The Teremic approach to casting became so prevalent because a good portion of those who didn't adopt it ended up dead. Not that this isn't an opportunity half the school would give their eye-teeth for, but, well, you surely know the consequences of getting ahead of yourself."

The faint discomfort told Fallon the House Master was referring to Auri's presumed death, but before Fallon could untangle the rest of the warning, the man added: "Your father is in the guest area. Be sure to hand in any school property before you go."

Cold shock kept Fallon's face frozen, and he wondered if he still looked smug as he carefully thanked the House Master, then made himself walk, not run, to the room tucked into the dormitories where guests were left to cool their heels. Father? Here? Father had barely left the house in years.

Had Fallon made some massive error in the household accounts? Was he being dropped from the Arkathan for lack of funds? But, no, the House Master had talked of opportunities. Could Fallon dare to hope that his approach to Duchess Surclere hadn't been such a complete disaster? That the combination of his idiot mouth and being Earl Harkness' nephew hadn't made his goal unachievable?