Once he was finished I lowered the hand containing the glyphstone to the rail, leaned on the thin wooden pole and tried to stay calm. I watched my breath fogging on the frigid air for a minute, using it to focus.
Okay, Kas. Nothing major to worry about. Breathe. They’re friendly.
But there was only so far I could go in remonstrating with myself. I knew what this meant.
“Where’d you get a glyphstone?”
I looked down. Salli Meleine and a few of her friends were wading down the lane, their skirts hitched up almost to their coat-hems to avoid the slush.
Salli, clearly playing her part by keeping silent.
“I found it,” I called back, lowering my foolishly-exposed hand.
“Found it,” one of them sniggered.
“Yeah, it was in this lord’s pocket,” I went on, hoping I didn’t dig myself too deep a hole. “A quick Yearsend present for myself, don’t you know. What exactly he was up to I can’t say, though – keep getting these mysterious ladies calling me…”
The one who’d sniggered released a raucous titter, then they were about to pass beneath a bridge, out of my view.
“Have a happy Yearsend!”
“You too,” Salli shouted – then they were gone.
At least they didn’t see me keel over, I thought.
I went to the stairs and headed down into the lane, then called the twins over. They dutifully turned away from Nabim, one of their friends – I noticed they both had all their toys, which was gratifying.
“Alright, Mr. Mortenn,” said Ticken Sawdan, one of the neighbour-kids, eleven years old and scrawny with a huge mop of dark brown hair, a threadbare scarf around his neck.
“Please, Mr. Mortenn wasn’t even my dad – that was my granddad.” I shuddered. “How old do you think I am? I need to shave or something?”
The kid shrugged at me.
“Just Kas will do. Say happy Yearsend to your mother for us, eh?”
“Er – will do, Kas.” He turned away to talk to another of his mates, but I saw him cast me a strange second glance over his shoulder.
The twins reached me.
“I’ve got to go and Orstrum’s headed down to the shrine. I’m going to get Xantaire to keep an eye out.”
“We’ll be fine, Kas.”
“No, Jaroan – I’ll get her to watch, thank you. Xastur will be going down for a nap anyway, given the way he’s been yawning.” I looked at them, and I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine it… if my fears became reality – if fate really dealt the hand of death to us all… “You need to be careful, you know. Behave yourselves, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“It must be serious, if you’re going on Yearsend,” Jaid said worriedly. Without seeming to even think about it she tilted her head, snaring the stray coil of her hair poking out from under her hat in her teeth, then chewing on it furiously.
“It’s not bad, I promise.” I really, really hope. “And, look, if I die, you know where I stash the money, right?”
I flashed them my most-confident grin – they hated it when I did that.
“Kas!” my sister hissed, frowning, while Jaroan just hit me, a solid thump in the bicep.
“Fine. I miscalculated.” I shook my head. “Be back soon.”
I turned and headed back for my things, then went out. There weren’t as many shadows in the daytime, so my wraith-form was of reduced effectiveness when it came to hiding me from prying eyes, but Sticktown was plenty dreary even in summer and it was almost the heart of winter now – grey dimness bloomed in every doorway. I only had to be careful until I was out of Helbert’s Bend, anyway; within a minute I spread sylph-wings and took to the sky.
I could see from afar that it was snowing over Treetown, my destination. I tried to distract myself from the horror of what I was about to confront by questioning the blizzard. Was it a curiosity of the weather patterns over the forests? More likely a deliberate action, costing some poor wizard their Yearsend morning, just so the lordlings could enjoy a more-festive day… I hoped the spell-casters responsible were being compensated appropriately for their time. I had a sneaky suspicion no money was going to make its way into my hands as a result of my particular endeavour – and mine might well prove lethal.
I descended into Irimar’s garden, slowly at first, until I was certain the dome of force would admit me. As I landed I folded away my wings and let my wraith-form fade until I was ninety-nine percent tangible. No point scaring anyone… and not like my eldritches would do me any good if I got into a fight, anyway. Not here. Not now. Not with such a powerful shield hanging over the property, blue lines forming the most effective-looking weave I’d ever seen.
He answered the patio doors before I knocked, admitting me into the drawing room. He wasn’t wearing his champion’s garb; I reached up and removed my mask as I crossed the threshold. He had the curtains drawn and the candles lit; the big room was a space of shadows but I had eyes only for the slowly-rotating bubbles of shielding.
And at the centre of the weave-to-end-all-weaves…
“Irrelya. Ardanene. I’d very much like for you to meet Feychilde – you might have heard of him? He’s an arch-sorcerer too, so he’s got some idea what you’re going through, and he’s got plenty of experience handling twins.”
He had a forced smile on his face when he was talking to them, but then he shot me a desperate look that just screamed, ‘I don’t know what to do!’…
And he was the arch-diviner here.
The girls on the couch could be no older than the twins – my twins. Eight or nine. They were dark of complexion, their skin almost as black as Glimmermere’s, with their raven hair braided tight to their scalps. They wore near-identical clothing, cheap furs designed more for warmth than comfort, but one had a blue ribbon in her hair whilst the other had red – someone’s concession to telling the two of them apart, almost certainly.
“Hi,” I attempted. “Irrelya. Ardanene. I’m pleased to meet you. I bet you’re just full of questions.”
They didn’t look particularly curious, if I were being honest with myself. They were staring at me, and had been since I entered the house, but it was almost a blank expression, more wary than scared or inquisitive. It was the two of us who were filled with questions.
I didn’t need to ask him why he couldn’t read their futures. He’d probably have guessed it by now. Even a child would’ve been able to read the pattern at this stage.
Their futures were inextricably bound to a pair of twin diviners’ futures.
“You say you had to take them?” I asked Timesnatcher in a low voice, keeping my eyes on the girls.
“I removed them from the camps,” he replied in like fashion. “They have no family remaining. They have known no kindness at the hands of the people surrounding them – and they have no tradition of archmagery in their homeland. Their kin-folk are the last I would have care for them now. Even wizards and druids will often be treated as witches where they come from, seen as chosen by the dark powers – and killed for it. If those men and women found out what had happened to the girls – I had to act. Their shields were about to give it all away.”
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He left it hanging; I took his meaning.
The girls wouldn’t have died – oh no – they would have unleashed their powers, without limit.
“So they’ve only just gained their abilities?”
“About two-and-a-half hours ago, yes, by my reckoning.”
“Their… change was unpredictable?”
He just gave me an ‘obviously’ look.
“And they speak Mundic?”
“Definitely.”
I thought it through. “Can I try something?”
“Of course. That’s why I called you. This is supposed to go far, far more smoothly with you involved.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Not Netherhame or Shallowlie? You feel you can extract more from me than from them?”
“Hardly.” He didn’t look impressed with my digression. “This is your destiny, Feychilde. Is that enough? I believe it is clear you have prior experience in this area, outweighing the experience possessed by the veterans you name. Need I go on?”
I moved across the room, coming to sit in a big comfy chair facing the sorceresses, ten feet away from them. The girls were holding one another’s hands, I saw. Again, they weren’t gripping tightly – they weren’t afraid; this was more the casual kind of hand-holding that was sought out for comfort, reassurance.
“Will you speak to me now?”
I wasn’t sure which tongue to try first, so I went with Etheric, putting my best foot forwards so to speak.
Their eyes lit up, and the one with the blue ribbon (whom Timesnatcher had indicated was Irrelya) turned and looked at her sister. For her part, Ardanene kept her gaze on me, but there was surprise writ large on her face.
Timesnatcher looked between us blankly as I spoke.
“I recognise this has probably been a very strange day for you. Disturbing, no doubt. What I’m here to do is… maybe normalise it a bit? You’ve been through something very stressful, but don’t you think for one minute that you’re alone – you’re not. We’re here now; we’re here to help you. I take it… Did you lose someone? Someone important to you?”
I waited a moment. Irrelya looked as though she were about to speak, but no words materialised.
“Noble sisters.” I raised my hands, extending my own shields with excruciating slowness. “You are now part of a bigger world. You bear the burdens that mark us all, but you don’t have to bear them alone. We share. We support one another.” I glanced at Timesnatcher, then back to the super-powerful sorceresses. “We trust each other.”
“We have been connected to the dimensional corridors,” Ardanene said suddenly, speaking Etheric flawlessly; it was likely better than her Mundic, given her age. Her voice was breathy, her eyes bright around her dark irises. “We have traversed the planes in our thoughts, backwards and forwards. We cannot find them.”
It took me a few seconds to wrap my head around what she was saying. It didn’t help that my glyphstone warmed up and tinkled for a split second, then died down again – even if it were Em wanting to discuss the whole ‘love you’ thing, I’d have to get back to her.
“You mean… your loved ones?” I asked. “You can’t find –“
“Mother’s gone,” Irrelya said, her voice sounding dejected – which wasn’t the easiest thing when speaking Etheric, the language of joy. “She did not wait for us.”
‘Mother’s gone.’ In the space of a couple of hours they’ve, what, searched Nethernum for their mum’s soul? How is that even possible?
“I understand,” I said aloud, glancing across at Timesnatcher. He looked perplexed, but not completely so. I could tell his power was helping him follow along; I could give him the summary at the end.
I returned my attention to the girls. “You have many capabilities now, options available to you that you’d never imagined before.” I remembered it, those first few days, trapped by a plethora of choices, all the unparalleled, unconstricted possibilities. “Please, take the time to think through your decisions. You don’t have to act any differently now, compared to before – just be yourselves. We can make sure you’re comfortable, that you have everything you need… I realise you may not have questions, or maybe you do but you don’t want to speak about it at all right now, but we’re always –”
“This man,” Ardanene gestured at Irimar. “He’s Timesnatcher, the one of whom we have heard?”
“I recognise that word,” the seer murmured.
I nodded to her.
“He is worthy of our trust?” Ardanene continued.
It was starting to hurt my head, hearing such a little-looking kid speak in such a grown-up vernacular.
It felt as though it were too good of an opportunity to pass up. He couldn’t understand what I was saying – I could explain it to them, the slipperiness of the arch-diviner, the games he played with people…
But the core of it would be a lie, wouldn’t it? I’d just be a hypocrite again.
“Yes,” I replied, “you can trust him. He’s tricky, and cunning, and he knows how to move people… get them to do what he wants. But he’d never hurt you, or allow you to come to harm. He’s the greatest hero in the city for a reason, and he will never cease protecting you, even if –“
“We do not need protection,” Irrelya spoke up again. “We can protect ourselves.”
“You’re telling me…” I let out a low whistle, flicking my hand at their barriers beyond my own. “Where did you learn to do this? What happened to you?”
Irrelya shook her head, and Ardanene opened her mouth to answer –
“Could we speak Mundic?” I asked, still in Etheric. “For Timesnatcher’s benefit.”
“We cannot remember how,” Irrelya said, a trace of worry in her voice now. “We can understand it, but the words – they won’t come. It is the same with our birth tongue.”
I shifted my weight uncomfortably. I was staggered at the magnitude of the metamorphosis they’d undergone. The amount of pure archmagery, pure sorcerous power that had infused them – they couldn’t even speak the language they’d grown up using?
“From what I understand, that’s what happens to…” I didn’t want to say undead, did I? “… to some others as well. Don’t worry. It’ll come back to you, in time.”
“I told you,” Ardanene muttered to her sister.
“I hope so, at least, Irrelya –” I started.
“That isn’t her name.” Ardanene stared at me, not in an unfriendly fashion, but definitely irritated. “And I am not Ardanene. I am Arxine, and my sister is Orieg. Our names… they changed them, when we came to Mund.”
I nodded. Mundicising names was par for the course back in the day, but we had such a cauldron of cultures contained in our city by now that I doubted anyone would so much as raise an eyebrow at ‘Orieg’ or ‘Arxine’. No, it was more likely done by those who took them in – a way of removing part of these poor girls’ identities, making them forget their roots, who they really were.
“Arxine and Orieg.”
Like all souls’ names, I experienced no issues using them in Mundic and Etheric. I only just noticed how convenient that was. It was very different from monikers like ‘Feychilde’ and ‘Timesnatcher’.
The twins were staring at me as I tried out their names, so I smiled back at them. “Those are lovely – your mum named you?”
Orieg nodded sombrely. “And Father.”
“Well, you can definitely keep using them – whatever they told you, it’s wrong, okay?” I stood up. “Are you alright if I talk to Timesnatcher for a minute?”
Arxine nodded, keeping her eyes on me, while Orieg looked down at her lap, murmuring, “I am hungry.”
I met Irimar’s eyes, and from his reaction I could tell that I must’ve looked a bit delirious.
“What is it?” he asked, then, before I could even answer, he seemed to smear across the air a little – and he was crossing to the girls, holding a platter of warm bread and butter.
The girls released their first exclamations of delight – Arxine took the plate from him and they started tucking in. If I’d thought my twins looked hungry eating the bacon butties earlier on, this put them to shame. These kids hadn’t just had a tough upbringing, a taste of poverty – they’d had the harshest of all possible upbringings, mired in poverty up to the eyeballs.
“You don’t have a way to speak Etheric?” I asked Irimar while we watched the miniature sorceresses stuffing their faces.
He shook his head slightly. “I don’t have the necessary implements here to bestow myself with the ability, but I could…”
He blinked, then turned around to blur through the internal doorway, into the foyer –
Then he walked back in through the patio doors in the time it took me to swing my head around, as though he’d just done a lap of the house.
It was a big house, and I suspected he’d been farther afield than that.
“Woah!” Arxine cried through a mouthful of food, butter running from the corner of her lips. “Can I learn to do thab?”
I chuckled. “They’re impressed,” I said to the diviner, then continued in Etheric: “Not quite, but we can do some cool stuff. It wasn’t only Timesnatcher you heard of, was it? Or did you hear of me too?”
“The Liberator… of Zadhal?” She swallowed. “Of course we heard of you. It was all everyone in the camp talked about… for a day or two at least.” She offered me a tight, bready grin.
“Ha! Yes, things move fast here. You can be part of that, one day, if you want to be. When you’re ready.”
I felt the pressures pulling me in opposite directions – the overwhelming urge to ensure they would be treated fairly from now on, they wouldn’t be manipulated, their powers abused – and the irresistible compulsion to manipulate them, twist them to my own ends.
We might need them. Mund, the world, might need them.
Better that they know they have the choice to make now. Otherwise, when the time comes, it might already be too late.
Suddenly the vivid, unmistakeable scent of maple filled the air – I turned and saw Timesnatcher on the other side of the drawing room, making a nick in the very tip of his tongue with a sharp knife, simultaneously stepping through a cloud of green powder that he’d tossed to hang in the air.
“Excellent,” he said in Etheric, turning to face us, powder disappearing around him before it touched the ground. “I’m sorry about all that.” He looked between us. “How about I get you something better to eat, and then we can have a proper chat.”
Orieg looked to her sister, and Arxine nodded.
“So,” he said brightly, “what do you like? Wait – I have just the thing.”
Then he was off again.
If nothing else, he was diligent.
* * *