The Trevi of Torvain Page 3

  The boy was disappointed, but Elias turned away from him and walked into the trees. He stood there patiently until the visitor joined him. He said nothing, waiting for the other man to speak. Waiting was his specialty. He’d had centuries of practice at it, though only a few strands of grey in his black hair and beard betrayed the passage of all that time.

  “Lord Elias, I am Davu, son of Tabari,” the visitor said in the Common Tongue, turning once in a circle as was considered courteous among the Trevi to show you meant no harm.

  “How can I help you, Davu?” Elias asked.

  He listened with astonishment and dismay to the man’s tale. Could it be true? Could all his waiting have come to this?

  “Will you come see her for yourself and advise us on what to do?” Davu asked.

  Elias collected himself and nodded. “Yes, we must hurry. If things are as you say, she may be a danger to herself and those around her. Where are they?”

  Davu looked alarmed. “My sister said they would wait at the Koval Retreat.”

  Elias’ breath caught, but after a moment he let it out slowly. “I suppose that’s fitting. Come along then.” He strode off to the north without waiting for a reply.

  It was three days to the Koval Retreat on foot. Elias spent most of the journey in silence, lost in his memories of long ago. They arrived just as the sun was rising on the fourth day.

  Elias felt an odd thrill as the ruined fortress came into view. He hadn’t laid eyes on the place since the day the Mother of Magic vanished. He had sworn never again to set foot there, and for over a thousand years, he had kept that promise. But now…he pulled his thoughts back to the present, as he passed beneath the crumbling archway at the entrance and glimpsed the two forms curled together around the dying embers of a campfire.

  Davu crouched by his sister and gently shook her shoulder. Her eyes snapped open. Quickly he touched a finger to his lips, indicating the sleeping child beside her. The woman nodded and got to her feet. When they were far enough away from the campfire, brother and sister embraced.

  “Oh Davu! I don’t know how much longer I could have—I’m so relieved you’ve come!”

  “Jina, you remember Lord Elias,” Davu said.

  Elias looked at the woman and found that he knew her. He had met her once before, during an election of the Avenai Jevar, the high council of the Trevi. He recalled her being a kind, capable, and practical person. Now, however, she was covered in scratches and bruises. Her eyes were wild, and her hair was full of leaves and twigs, though she didn’t seem to have noticed. She looked exhausted. The child must be incredibly powerful to have shaken her to this extent.

  “Yes, thank you so much for coming, Lord Elias,” Jina said, composing herself.

  “It’s my pleasure, my lady, but tell me, what's distressing you?”

  “It’s the child, sir,” Jina said, glancing back towards the campfire. “She’s a sweet girl, but I’ve never seen such power. Everything was fine for the first day or so, but she has been getting increasingly distraught over not knowing where her family is. She doesn’t understand, and every time she gets upset, her power wreaks havoc on everything around her. I’m surprised the Retreat is still standing, after the week we’ve had. I had a young S’Aidan here, helping me, but I had to send her away for her own safety. Unfortunately, it only seems to have made the tantrums worse!” Jina said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

  Davu frowned. “I thought if you taught her some control that wouldn’t happen anymore. Does she not understand the lessons?”

  “She understands perfectly well! Anything Valeria or I show her, she picks up within an hour, but her power goes beyond anything we can teach her, beyond anything I’ve ever seen! I have no notion of how to begin teaching her discipline over magic I’ve never encountered before.”

  Elias turned away from the discussion, absentmindedly wandering over to get a better look at the source of all the confusion. The child was small and plump. Long red-brown hair was sprawled in hopeless tangles around her head. She lay curled into a ball under a blanket, her round, rosy face scrunched into a little frown. In sleep, she appeared no different than any other child her age.

  As Elias looked at her, the girl’s eyes fluttered open. They were full and round like a doll’s and a lovely shade of emerald green. She met his gaze steadily for a moment, then yawned.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “My name is Elias,” Elias said, crouching next to her. “I’ve come to meet you.”

  “Where’s my mama?”

  Elias saw no use in lying to the girl. “Your mother is gone, child, but we’re going to take good care of you. You have my word.”

  The little girl’s chin trembled, and she started to cry. Jina was at her side immediately, attempting to soothe her, but it was no good. The girl’s shape began to change, lights appeared in the air, and the ground shook beneath them. Elias reeled backwards in horror.

  Until that moment, he hadn’t really believed Davu’s story. He had thought it was just wishful thinking. More than once, over the years, the Trevi had believed the Mother of Magic had returned, but it always turned out to be a misunderstanding or some particularly gifted Trevi of mixed parentage. This was real...but this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

  “She’s just a child,” Elias said, as if that would make it all untrue.

  The girl’s tantrum continued, in spite of Jina’s efforts at calming her. At last, setting his own thoughts aside for the moment, Elias took the distraught child into his arms.

  “What’s her name?” he asked.

  “Lydia,” Jina called over the roaring of the wind around them.

  “Lydia,” Elias said, tilting the girl’s chin upwards so that she looked into his eyes. “I want you to picture your mother for me, can you do that? Think about the color of her hair and the sound of her voice. Think of the way she smells when she holds you. Think only of her. Think harder than you’ve ever thought about anything.”

  The girl’s eyes squeezed shut and her brow wrinkled. Elias stroked her hair gently. Gradually the tumult around them faded, and the quiet sounds of early morning returned. When the child’s eyes opened, Elias forced a smile.

  “There, you see? She’ll never really be gone as long as you remember her just like that. Every time you feel yourself getting upset, I want you to stop and think very hard of your mother,” he said.

  “And my papa?” the girl said.

  “And your papa,” Elias agreed, wiping the tears from her cheeks with a thumb.

  The child nodded, then suddenly threw her arms around Elias’ neck and hugged him hard. He froze with shock for a moment as his lonely heart was touched for the first time in many centuries.

  “Well,” Davu said, startling Elias, “Is she the real thing? Has the Mother of Magic returned to us?”

  It took Elias a moment to find the words, but at last he replied, “Yes, I suppose she has.”

  From that moment onward, everything seemed to move very quickly. One moment Elias was holding Lydia in the courtyard of the Koval Retreat, the next he was presenting her to the Avenai Jevar. It was decided between Jina, Davu, and himself, that the child’s Human origins had best be kept a secret if she were to be accepted by all the Trevi as one of their own. To that end, they changed her name to ‘Liana’ and said that they had found her wandering in the forest near the Koval Retreat.

  No one ever thought to question the story, once they got a look at the girl’s unusual abilities. The only apparent threat of exposure was the S’Aidan fosterling who had already met Liana, but to Elias’ surprise, the two children were already best friends. Despite experiencing all the ordinary squabbles typical in children of that age, Valeria never betrayed one word of her friend’s secret.

  The Trevi were shocked and then delighted by the appearance of the Mother of Magic. They flocked to see her from far and near, straining Ozryn’s resources. Finally, it was decided that Liana would travel among the Trevi tribes,
much as the council members did.

  Jina, Davu, and Elias travelled with her. They were her constant companions and became more attached to her with each passing year. Davu taught her to use her Undine and Oread magic, and Jina tutored her in diplomacy and the Trevi languages. Other Trevi joined their family to instruct her in the use of her other powers, but some magics were beyond their knowledge. These Liana attempted to learn on her own with varying degrees of success.

  At first, Liana was frightened by all the attention and confused at being away from her Human family. However, she was soon distracted by the splendor and mystery of the Erean Forest and the Trevi’s ways of life. Her Human past quickly faded from her young memory. Before long, she considered the Trevi her true family.

  Elias could see that the child loved the Trevi very much. She conducted herself in her role as their leader with a wisdom and grace beyond her years, but she was not the Mother of Magic he had known long ago. Liana remembered nothing of the distant past when the Mother of Magic had lived among the Trevi.

  How she had come to possess the Mother of Magic’s powers remained a mystery to Elias, and he stayed close to her, always hoping for some answers. However, he said nothing of his thoughts to the Trevi. They all seemed determined to believe she was the true Mother of Magic and had simply returned to them as she had promised, millennia ago.

  Twenty-five years went by. To Elias, the time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Soon, the frightened and confused little girl had grown into a clever and confident young woman of formidable power. But would it be enough?

  Elias was afraid that if the Mother of Magic had found it necessary to return in this imperfect way, it must mean that there was some great threat to the Trevi that could only be defeated by her power. He was always alert for any sign of trouble, but all was peaceful and good in the Erean Forest. The old storyteller seemed to be the only one certain that it wouldn’t last forever.

  chapter four: Katya

  Katya squinted in the dim candlelight of her workroom as she ground dried thyme for a medicinal tea. The head cook’s son had a cough that worried her. The crushed leaves released a pleasant scent that mingled with those of the lavender, rosemary, and other herbs she had hung from the ceiling to dry. Katya inhaled deeply, a small smile on her lips at this quiet pleasure.

  “Princess?”

  Katya jumped, then relaxed as she recognized the young guard who stood in the doorway. She leaned down and retrieved the pestle she had dropped on the floor, her smile gone.

  “Yes?” she said timidly.

  “Your father wishes to see you, Princess,” the guard said.

  Katya stood, brushing ground herbs from her dress, and approached the young man. He seemed to be roughly her own age, though he was several inches taller than her. A rough, patchy beard covered his cheeks, as though he were trying to appear older, and there was a nasty cut above one of his eyebrows, probably from a recent fight.

  Katya reached for a small jar and opened it, swiping her finger through the fragrant salve inside. “Here,” she said, “lean down.”

  Hesitantly, the guard did as she said and allowed her to spread the salve across his cut. “Princess, we really must go,” he said.

  Katya nodded and wiped the remainder of the salve on a spare cloth before following the young man out of the little surgery and up to her father’s study, several floors above.

  The king was sitting in a large, comfortable chair when she arrived, a weary expression on his face. He stood as she entered and smiled.

  “Ah, Katya, every time I see you, you remind me more of your mother,” he said, bending to lay a kiss on her brow before sitting once more.

  A blush spread across Katya’s alabaster skin, and she let her long, dark hair fall in a curtain around her face, concealing her expression. She didn’t want to be like her mother. Her mother had been a great queen. She only wanted to live her life in peace, studying the healing arts, but she kept these thoughts to herself.

  “Thank you, Father,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I was told you wished to see me.”

  “Yes, child, come sit next to me,” the king said, making room for her.

  Katya sat warily. Her father was a busy man. He only summoned her if she had done something to displease him or when he had something of importance to tell her.

  “I suppose there is no way to soften the blow,” the king said sadly. “I have been speaking with the greatest healers in Lezar, and they all agree: I’m dying.”

  “What?!” Katya’s voice was louder than usual, and her heart seemed to twist in her chest. She looked at her father again. He looked just as he always did. Perhaps a bit wearier, but nothing out of the ordinary for a man as busy as a king must be. Then he coughed, a great hacking cough that shook his broad shoulders and she could see it, just as the healers must have.

  Her father’s breathing slowly eased, and he patted her shoulder comfortingly. “It’s alright, my dear. Everyone’s time must come eventually, and I’m not going anywhere right away. The doctors say I may have some months, but…when I’m gone, someone must rule in my place.”

  Katya’s face went pale as she realized what he was suggesting.

  “I know you had hoped that your brother could be the one to take the throne after me, but now… He’s only six. Someone must rule in his place until he comes of age, and that someone must be you.”

  “Father, I can’t!” Katya rose in her agitation and paced across the room to the window.

  “You must!” the king said firmly. “You are the only one I can trust to do this.”

  Katya thought of little Nikolai with his beautiful blonde curls and big blue eyes, clinging to her skirts and begging for a sweet. Couldn’t she find the courage to do what was necessary, if only for his sake? For a moment, she almost thought she could, but then her gaze drifted out the window and across the snowy rooftops of the city of Noritov.

  Every window was aglow with firelight. The silhouettes of mothers, fathers, and children could be seen through the frosted glass. People. Her people. All dependent on her to keep them safe and happy.

  Katya’s hands trembled, and her mind went blank with terror at the thought. Her breath began to come in short gasps.

  “Katya?” The king touched her shoulder gently.

  “No!” Katya gasped. She fled the room, ignoring her father’s distressed call for her to come back. She raced down the stairs and snatched her heavy, fur-lined cloak from a hook as she opened the giant oak doors. The cold rushed inwards, accompanied by a few stray flakes of snow. She slipped out quickly and closed the doors behind her.

  The stables were warm and full of the earthy scent of animals. Katya’s horse, Sileas, was at the end. He was a gentle, sturdy creature with thick black hair as dark as her own and soulful brown eyes. He nuzzled Katya’s shoulder as he was saddled, and Katya patted him reassuringly.

  None of the stable boys took any notice of her until she mounted Sileas and galloped out of the stable unaccompanied by any guards. Then a great cry was raised, but Sileas was one of the fastest horses in Lezar. Together, they blew past every stable boy and guard who tried to stop them and slipped through the palace gates just before they slammed shut.

  They tore through the streets, ignoring the curses of people dodging hastily out of the way. The wind ripped Katya’s hood from her head and stung her cheeks, making her eyes water, but she didn’t care. She only knew she had to get away, had to outrun the fears that gripped her. The fear of standing in front of a crowd, of failing her people and losing everything she loved.

  She left them all behind and urged Sileas faster until they left the city and flew out onto the flat, empty farmland outside, uninhabited in the winter when no living things grew under its thick blanket of snow. Then they slowed, and Katya looked back towards the palace. She noted with a sigh of relief that no one seemed to be following her, or if they were, they had fallen far behind. She patted Sileas’ neck. The horse snorted, his breath comin
g out in a great billow of steam, as though he might breathe fire.

  As they plodded forward, Katya finally allowed herself to consider her actions. She knew she was being childish. She hadn't brought food, supplies, or any money with which to buy them. Nor had she thought of where to go, she had only felt a desperate urge to get away. Eventually, she would have to go back and face her father. Hot tears welled up in her eyes and froze on her cheeks as she remembered that he would soon be gone. At that thought, she nudged Sileas back into a run.

  The flat, white plains around her were lit only by the pale light of the moon and stars. Once, she had been told, colorful lights had danced in the night sky, forming curtains of pink, green, blue, and purple, but that had been before she was born. One day, some twenty-five years before, the lights had simply vanished and never reappeared. Katya had always wished she could have seen them at least once.

  Katya and Sileas continued forward for hours. Occasionally they saw the lights of a village or town in the distance, but they passed them by. Gradually, all signs of Human habitation ceased. The plains disappeared and were replaced with a rough field of jagged, pale blue ice. It was further to the east of the city than Katya had ever been.

  The ground was too uneven for a horse, so Katya hobbled Sileas and continued forward on foot for a while. The ice was sharp and slippery, and she found herself falling repeatedly. She had just decided that perhaps it was time for her to turn around when a dim glimmer of blue caught her eye from down in the depths of a crevasse. Carefully, she crawled closer on hands and knees, wondering if it was some remnant of the colors that had once danced in the sky.

  As she peered down into the deep hole in the ice, the light flared brighter. Katya flinched back, but it was too late. All of a sudden, it engulfed her, and power rushed through her, white-hot one instant and freezing cold the next. She screamed, but there was no one to hear. She felt her consciousness fade to nothing but a shadow as her mind and body were stolen by someone else, something else.