Maelys

Maelys watched from inside the wall as the Auldheim slapped her pudgy hand down upon the desk, stopping Rees in his report.

“How can you not be sure? Does she or doesn’t she?”

The Auldheim’s nephew scratched the stubble of his salt-and-pepper beard. “I’d say yes, but it’s...odd. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“How so?”

“Her veoh only affects stone.”

“Stone?”

“Stone.”

“That’s it? How do you know the little tart isn’t faking? She can’t stop telling everyone how much she loves our hospitality. Maybe she’s trying to swindle you, Rees. Have you thought of that?”

“I have,” Rees said. “I don’t think she’s lying.”

The Auldheim tapped her finger on the desk, glowering over her jowls. “You’ve always been a softie for redheads. Wasn’t your last granddaughter a redhead? What was her name?”

“Brael.”

The Auldheim clucked. “That’s right. Anlaf’s first youngster, turned out redder than carrot pudding. Now how did that happen? I thought Anlaf married a Ganlin. We’ve got no redheads in that line. If I were him, I’d go figure out what his wife’s been picking in the mountains besides berries.”

Auld Rees dragged a hand down his face. “She can do things with stone that you and I can’t.”

“Can’t is a strong word, Rees.”

“Yesterday I found her wearing gloves of the stuff, using it to pummel another kid’s face in.”

“Gloves? Was she punished?”

“The boy was in the female auldlings’ wing past lights-out.”

“What did he say?”

“He says he was bringing them hot rolls.”

The Auldheim snorted. “What does the girl say?”

“That he was kissing Gawain Ganlin’s daughter Hanna in the corner against her will.”

The Auldheim went white, her pudgy fists clenching on the edges of her desk. “Is her story reliable?”

“It’s looking pretty bad,” Rees admitted.

“Let me know if it’s true. I want to deal with him myself.”

“What about the girl? She’s got veoh, but considering how limited she is, I’m struggling to find a good reason to keep her at the Spyre.”

“The Rockfarmers won’t take her back.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes we do, Rees.”

Rees sighed. “We could still try. The girl doesn’t want—”

“Why do you keep saying ‘the girl?’” Agathe demanded. “Are you telling me you still haven’t wrangled her name out of her?”

“No,” Rees admitted.

“Use a geas if you have to. I’m tired of calling the wench ‘girl.’ And figure out how old she is, while you’re at it. Rockfarmers are hard to gauge. She could be twenty for all we know.”

“I think she’s closer to Nirin’s age.”

“Fourteen?”

“Or younger. Further, I don’t think a geas would be wise,” Rees continued. “She’s already distrustful of our intentions.”

“I don’t care what’s ‘wise,’” Agathe bellowed. “I’m tired of the little tramp having the run of the place when we don’t even know her name.”

“We could try to send her home,” Rees said.

“No.”

“Truly, Agathe, she can’t even light a candle. She’s no danger to anyone. The stuff she can do is quite harmless.”

“You said she pounded a kid’s face in yesterday.” When Rees didn’t reply, the Auldheim stretched her fat form back in her chair and sighed, her huge breasts rising and falling against her stomach. “So what else can she do, Rees? The little brat can walk through walls. What if Etro got hold of her? They’d know every one of our secrets in a matter of days. Hell, how do we know she’s not spying on us right now?”

“Because I’ve got a scrying spell on her that lets me know exactly—” Rees flinched, then turned to look directly at Maelys, whose heart suddenly started pounding in her ears. “Come on out, girl.”

Maelys remained where she was. Encased in the stone. Motionless.

“She’s here?” the Auldheim demanded of her nephew, looking in Maelys’ direction, yet not seeing her. “The little tramp was spying on us?”

Sighing, Rees stood up and walked over to where Maelys was sunk into the wall. He looked down at her, his big frame towering over her like a giant. He held out a hand. “Come on,” he said gently. “We’re not mad.”

“I am!” the Auldheim snapped.

“You’ll be fine, little one,” Rees promised.

Despite the fact he was one of her kidnappers, Maelys trusted him. She thanked the surrounding stone, which released her with a pang of worry, and gingerly reached out to take the Auld’s hand.

As soon as the Auldheim saw her, Agathe let out a little sound and pushed away from her desk. Malice shone in her green eyes when she said, “So you think you can spy on us?”

“You were talking about me,” Maelys said. “Can I go home now?”

The snowy-haired old woman looked furious. “How long have you been listening?”

“Ever since you kidnapped me.”

“For the last time, you little wretch, we didn’t kidnap you. The Rockfarmers delivered you to Ganlin Hall as a possible auldling and we investigated. Your own people dropped you on our doorstep.”

“And you took me here,” Maelys said. “To the Spyre. You could have let me go back home.”

“And where would that be?” the Auldheim snapped.

Maelys frowned and looked away. All she remembered of that night was the darkness of the bag over her head and the bite of the ropes on her wrists. And fear.

Rees patted her shoulder.

Maelys ignored him, meeting the Auldheim stare-for-stare. “I want to go home.”

“No.”

“I don’t have to ask. I can do more than just walk through walls if you try to stop me.”

Rees’s hand tightened on Maelys’ shoulder at the same moment the Auldheim said, “Oh? And what might that be, you little tart?”

“Melt them.” At the Auldheim’s sharp look, Maelys said, “You should let me go home.”

“Did you just threaten to destroy the Spyre?”

Maelys shrugged.

The fat woman was out of her chair so quickly that Maelys flinched instinctively. In an instant, the Auldheim had her pudgy fingers in a grip on the front of Maelys’ shirt and was holding her against the wall, green eyes dancing with malevolence.

“Don’t you ever threaten me or my city ever again.”

Maelys held the old woman’s gaze without quailing. “You kidnapped me. I’ll do whatever I want.”

The Auldheim’s eyes darkened and her fat fingers tightened on Maelys’s neck. “Then you’ll spend the rest of your life in a cell.”

Maelys laughed. “You tried that already.”

“In chains.”

Maelys sobered slightly. “I already told you I’m not an auldling. I don’t have any veoh or whatever you call it. I can just talk to rocks. That’s it. Please just send me home. I don’t like it here. The stone sounds funny.”

The Auldheim released her suddenly and paced back to the big chair behind her desk, settling her bulk back into it with a sigh. She started tapping her desk again. “You talk to rocks.”

“Yeah.”

The Auldheim sniffed, then shoved a pretty blue geode paperweight across the desk toward her. “What is this one saying?”

Maelys picked it up and listened. “It misses its other half,” she said, putting it down.

The Auldheim burst out laughing. To Rees, she said, “The skinny runt is a con artist.”

“Who can walk through walls,” Rees said. “Name an Auld of the Spyre that can do that.”

The Auldheim grimaced. To Maelys, she said, “Say I let you leave. Where would you go?”

“Back to the mountains. To my people.”

“Really? Where? Nobody knows where your damn people live. The only reason we even know the Rockfarmers exist is because every once in a while they drop off an irritating little brat like you, with red hair and a bad memory.”

Maelys narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Rees. Tell her.”

“Agathe speaks the truth,” Rees said. “We’ve searched those mountains in a hundred-mile radius outward from Ganlin Hall and have never found a soul.”

Maelys gaped. “That’s not possible. We have herds. Temples. Cities...”

“Not in those mountains, you don’t,” Agathe snapped.

Maelys swallowed, hard. After the hood and the days of traveling, she had no idea where her people lived. She had just assumed that these foreigners did. And, judging by the pitying way the tall Auld was looking at her, they were telling the truth when they said they didn’t know where she’d come from.

Reality smacked into her like a late-winter avalanche. So this was why her questions had all been met with vague uncertainties. They truly didn’t know where her people were. Even if they determined she was of no use to them and decided she didn’t have to stay at their stupid Spyre, they couldn’t send her home.

Maelys suddenly didn’t feel very well. It felt like a rug had been yanked out from under her, leaving her flat on her back, seeing stars. With it came a powerful need to be alone. She opened her mind to the stone at her feet and, as the two Aulds reached out to stop her, she slid into the floor.

Maelys spent the night in an abandoned room deep beneath the Spyre, as far from the Aulds as she could get. Every crevice of the room was caked with dust...and piled with treasure. Maelys amused herself with the gems and baubles for hours in peace until she heard the latch rattle from the other side. Immediately, she dove under an intricate mahogany desk, scattering a pile of gems with glassy tinkles. Listening, she held her breath. The door was locked, and Maelys had assumed from the thick layer of dust that the room had been forgotten long ago.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

To her frustration, Auld Rees unlocked the door and stepped inside. As he did, he held up a fist that glowed brilliantly, casting the place in a searing silver blaze of light. He shut the door behind him and hesitated at the entrance, glancing around the room, obviously looking for her.

Maelys remained where she was hiding, hoping he would move on.

Sighing, Auld Rees paused for a moment and then walked directly to her hiding-place and crouched low so that he could see her. He smiled kindly. “Thought you might be lonely.”

“How’d you find me?” Maelys muttered.

“I put a scryer’s spell on you the moment you stepped inside the Spyre,” Rees said. “There’re a lot of people in the world who’d take advantage of a little girl who can walk through walls.”

“Like you?” Maelys said.

A look of irritation crossed his face. “No.”

“Agathe would.”

“Yes. That’s one of the reasons for the spell.” Rees sighed. “But child, she and I have known each other for a very long time, and she is my aunt, which gives me the privilege to call her ‘Agathe.’ You, however, need to call her Madam Auldheim.”

“I don’t need to call that fat cow anything,” Maelys said. “This isn’t my home.”

“Maybe not,” Rees said patiently, “But it just took me three hours to convince her not to throw you in irons. You should show her more respect.”

“Why? She kidnapped me.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Then let me leave.”

“If I could send you home, I would. But we were telling the truth, girl. We don’t know where your people live. We don’t even know where to start looking. Thirty years ago, Agathe wanted to learn more about your people—where they live, who they descended from—so that we could set up a weigh-line to reach them for trade. She had a team of her eight most powerful Aulds in Bryda scrying those mountains for years and we never found a single Rockfarmer.”

Maelys wrinkled her nose. “Zerii.”

“What?”

“Zerii,” Maelys said. “We’re called Zerii.”

He gave her a long look. “I thought you didn’t remember anything.”

“I remember some,” Maelys said, immediately feeling defensive. The cold wind on her back, the bite of hemp at her wrist...

Rees sat down on the dusty floor, pressing his back against a golden chest. “What else do you remember? Perhaps I can use it to find them.”

Immediately, Maelys felt torn. She had always known that this was a test for her, that she’d been left on the Ganlins’ porch because her people wanted to see if she could get home.

But now she wondered if what Rees had said was true. She had always thought that it was the Aulds of the Spyre that had spelled her and taken away her memories. But what if it had been her own people? What if they truly didn’t want her to come back?

Then, a pang of fear. Why would they have spelled her? What if she had been a bad child? What if she had done something horrible, and that’s why they’d given her over to strangers? What if she had hurt someone, like she had hurt that baker’s boy?

What if she couldn’t go home? What if this wasn’t some sort of test...what if they really didn’t want her back?

Rees interrupted her thoughts with a big hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, girl.”

Softly, Maelys said, “How many of the kids the Zerii leave at Ganlin Hall actually get home?”

Rees patted her shoulder gently. “None, that I know of.”

“How many have you seen?”

“Three, before you,” Rees said.

“What happened to them?” Maelys asked, perking up a bit.

“Two died wandering the mountains outside Ganlin Hall and one settled down as a hermit in the wine country.”

Even as Maelys was getting ready to ask if she could meet him, Rees raised a hand. “He doesn’t like visitors. He tried to kill the last Rockfa—er, Zerii—that went to him for help. Almost succeeded, too. Just about cut her head right off with a big runed sword he carries around. I spent the rest of the night reattaching her neck to her shoulders, and we rode back to the Spyre the very next morning.”

Maelys’s eyes widened. “What did she say to him?”

Rees grimaced. “She got to, ‘My name is—’ Then, boom. I think it was the accent that set him off.”

“I want to meet him,” Maelys said.

Rees shifted on the dusty floor. “I have a better idea. How about you meet my veoh-child, instead? He’s fourteen and I can guarantee he won’t try to chop off your head with a sword. I’ll be ranking him at the end of the month. A real accomplishment, that. Most auldlings aren’t ready for ranking until their eighteenth birthday. Maybe you could learn something from him.”

“I already know all I need to know. What makes you think I’d learn anything from your stupid vogue-child?”

“Veoh-child. He chose me to be his monitor during his ranking.”

“Whatever. I don’t care about Aulds and their ceremonies. I want to go home.”

“His ranking will take place back at Ganlin Hall,” Rees said. “If he invites you, I’m sure Agathe would let you come along.”

Maelys froze. “Ganlin Hall?” It came out as a squeak. “That place in the mountains?”

The old man nodded. “Tell you what.” Rees took her hand. “If you try to make friends with my veoh-child, I will help the two of you explore the mountains around the Hall after I’ve ranked him. Maybe you’ll be able to pick up something that the rest of us have missed.”

Maelys’s heart was thudding in her chest. If she could get all the way back to Ganlin Hall, it would be nothing at all to slip away into the mountains and hide in the rock until they gave up looking for her.

“But,” the old Auld said. “You’d have to promise me that if we don’t find them, you’ll come back to the Spyre with us.”

Maelys had no intention of doing any such thing, but she nodded anyway. Let him believe what he wanted. She was going home.

“Say it,” the Auld said.

“What?”

“Say you’ll return with us if we don’t find your people.”

Maelys’s mouth fell open to lie, but she found she couldn’t. She frowned, then tried again. Nothing.

The Auld smiled at her. “I’ll let you come when you can say it.” He stood, brushing dust off of his robes. He offered a big hand down to her. “In the meantime, you still have to earn yourself an invitation. It’s Aneirin’s ranking—if he doesn’t invite you, you don’t come.”

Maelys narrowed her eyes, knowing that the old Auld had an ulterior purpose in his proposition, but she took his hand anyway. She’d play along. Right up until the point where they turned their backs on her in Ganlin Hall.

“So his name is Aneirin?” she asked, sliding out from under the desk.

“His friends call him Nirin.”

“I’ll call him Aneirin.”

The old Auld sighed. “Wonderful start. Come on, then. Let’s go see if he’s up yet.”

After a winding walk back up the staircases and corridors—the long way, Maelys noted with impatience—they found Aneirin sitting in the dining hall, mussy-haired and slouching as he forked hot eggs into his mouth. The hall was alive with conversation and laughter, but his table was completely empty.

Maelys froze in the doorway, holding Rees back despite the way her stomach was growling with the smells of food. She hadn’t eaten in almost two days, since the moment she escaped the last dungeon the Auldheim had thrown her into.

She motioned at the way Aneirin’s table was completely empty but for him.

“What’s wrong with him?” she whispered.

The old Auld sighed. “He’s a Ganlin. We don’t have a lot of Auld-potential, and the Vethyles and Norfelds avoid us as much as they can. The closest Ganlin auldling to his age is only eight.”

“So he eats alone?” Maelys asked, still suspicious.

A flash of sadness crossed the Auld’s face. “He does everything alone.”

“That’s why he’s getting ranked so fast?” she asked.

Rees sighed. “Perhaps.” He motioned her forward. “Come. I’ll introduce you.”

“No,” Maelys hissed, remaining where she was. “Go away. I’ll introduce myself.”

Rees flashed her an irritated look, then shrugged. “I’m going to get something to eat. I’ll be at the Auld’s table, if you need me.”

“I won’t.”

He eyed her skeptically, then walked off toward the kitchens.

Once he was gone, Maelys steeled herself and walked to Aneirin’s table. She sat down across from him.

Aneirin looked so surprised that eggs tumbled out of his mouth. Immediately, however, his surprise grew dark, something akin to anger. “What do you want?”

“Some of your eggs.” She reached forward and pulled the plate toward her and began eating with gusto, using her fingers to scoop the delicious, cheesy mixture off his plate.

His mouth fell open again.

“The kitchen hands don’t like me,” Maelys said. “They saw me once when I was running from Rees and thought I was a ghost. I creeped them out. Besides, they might turn me in to that fat cow in her tower, then she’d throw me back in the dungeon.”

Aneirin put his fork down on the wooden table, still staring at her. “Who are you?”

“The Rockfarmer,” she said, around a mouthful of eggs.

Understanding crossed his face. “Wow. I’m surprised they haven’t caught you yet.”

She shrugged. “They did, a couple times.”

“But you escaped.”

She nodded, still eating.

“I heard something about them throwing you in irons.”

“Uh-huh. Iron’s just another form of rock.”

He looked thoroughly engrossed in the way she was wolfing down his eggs. “When was the last time you ate something?”

“Two days ago,” Maelys said. She frowned. Around a mouthful of food, she said, “I think.”

“So you can walk through walls?” he asked.

“Yup.”

“How?”

“Ask ‘em nicely.” She slid the empty plate back toward him and eyed his steaming mug. “What’s in there?”

“Cider,” he said. He pushed it forward.

She gulped it down and wiped her mouth. “Got anything else?”

Aneirin motioned toward the kitchen. “You can go get whatever you want.”

She shook her head. “The cooks don’t like me. They’d spit in it.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then frowned and stood up instead. “You stay here.” Maelys turned and watched him as he walked past the tables filled with other auldlings and stopped at the cafeteria line. Wherever he went, cold silence and frigid stares followed. He filled two more trays and walked back. On the way back, a big blond kid threw a gob of eggs at him.

Before it hit the back of his head, the cluster stopped in midair and dropped to the floor. Someone made a disappointed hoot. Aneirin never turned or even slowed.

He slid back onto the bench and pushed a tray in front of her. With it came the smell of sausage, cheese, toast, and butter. Maelys felt her mouth watering even before she snatched up the sausage and started wolfing it down.

“So what are you going to do?” Aneirin asked. “Eventually, they’re gonna find you again, and eventually they’ll figure out how to keep you in one place.”

Maelys shrugged.

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll spell your prison?” he said.

“How?” Maelys said. “They spell the rock and I’ll just unspell it again.”

“They could throw you in a burlap sack and spell that.”

Maelys winced.

Aneirin leaned forward. “I heard you don’t even remember your own name.”

“I do too.”

“What is it?”

She narrowed her eyes, realizing Rees’s game. “Shove off.” She stood and turned toward the door. Then, remembering Rees’s bargain, she sat back down stiffly, glaring. “You can call me Rockfarmer.”

Aneirin laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s what it is.”

Aneirin got a mischievous look on his face. “The Ganlins have ways of making you speak.”

Maelys started to tell him to eat granite when she blinked. “You can make me talk?”

“Sure.” He grinned, leaning forward. “Easy.”

“Even about stuff I don’t want to talk about or may not remember that good?”

His grin was devilish as he tapped her skull. “Anything that’s in there, I can get out.”

Maelys felt a surge of excitement. “We need to go somewhere else. You got a room?”

His grin started to fade. “What?”

“Come on,” she said, standing. “I don’t wanna do it here.”

“Do what here?” he asked, frowning at her.

When he continued to stare at her, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him out of his seat. “You got a room?” she repeated.

“I share it with three other boys and the door doesn’t lock.” He frowned at her. “Why?”

“Okay, then,” Maelys said. “Hold on.” She opened her mind to greet the stone at their feet and sent it an image of the room she wanted. Immediately, she felt the rock soften between her toes. Even as Aneirin gave his boots a frown, the floor took them in its embrace.

Aneirin was still screaming ten minutes later, after Maelys had worked them through the walls and floors of three stories, the stone pushing and pulling at them like clots inside a blood vessel.

“Oh my gods!” Aneirin cried, yanking his hand away from her. “What did you do to me?!” She heard him patting his chest and arms with his hands.

“Think you could give us some light?” Maelys asked. “There was a little green frog statue over in the corner that was glowing earlier, but I think it only lights up at night.”

A moment later, Aneirin lifted a glowing fist in the same style as his kinsman. His eyes went wide when he saw where they were. “This is the treasure-room.”

“One of them,” Maelys agreed.

He was staring at the piles of objects and wealth. “Do you know the kinds of enchantments they put on this room? They’ve got spells down here that will make thieves’ heads explode for getting too close.”

Maelys shrugged again. “All those spells are anchored in the stone. The stone’s my friend, so they don’t work on us.” She gestured at a stack of chests in one corner. “Just don’t go over there. It’ll kill you.”

[https://lancemaccarty.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/Ch-2-Truth-1024x576.jpg]

“The stone’s your...” Aneirin turned and looked at the stack of ensorcelled chests. The arm that held up the light was rough with goosebumps. “I think we should leave.”

“First you’re gonna make me talk,” Maelys said, jumping onto the desk and swinging her legs. “Make me tell you about the Rockfarmers.”

He turned to stare at her. “What?”

“The Rockfarmers. Maybe I’ll remember something if you make me talk.”

“Look, I really don’t think we should—”

“You do if you don’t want your head to explode,” Maelys said.

He went utterly pale. “I mean it.”

“So do I,” she said, crossing her arms. “You go through that door without carrying a key and it’ll explode. The wall’s telling me so.”

Aneirin turned to glare at her. “I could put you under a geas to get me out of here just as easily as I could put you under one to make you talk.”

“And I could come into your room one night while you’re sleeping and sink your bed into the floor. How about that?”

He scowled. “Fine.”

“Fine what?”

“Fine. I’ll make you talk. Sit still a minute.”

Maelys continued kicking her legs as he settled onto the golden chest that Rees had occupied earlier. At his meaningful scowl, however, she stopped.

“Okay,” he said, “I don’t have enough skill to do it without your help, so you’re going to have to repeat a few things after me. I’ll weave them with veoh and that should do the trick.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Okay, say these words, ‘I speak the truth to Aneirin Ganlin whenever he asks it of me.’”

Maelys rolled her eyes, but repeated it.

“I will answer every question he asks.”

She repeated.

“I will answer immediately, and without hesitation.”

“You sound like an old hedge-witch,” she said, laughing.

“Goddamn it, just say it.”

Maelys sighed and said it.

After a moment, Maelys felt a slight tingle in her skull, followed by the brief urge to vomit. Then it was gone.

“All right,” Aneirin said. “Let’s test it.”

“Okay,” Maelys said, scooching back to get comfortable on the desk.

“What’s your name?”

“Maelys,” Maelys said. Immediately, she choked. “You weren’t supposed to ask that!”

“I thought that’s why we’re down here!” Aneirin said.

“No, it’s to help me get home.”

He looked disappointed. “Maelys, huh?”

“What?” Maelys demanded.

“That’s so...common. I thought a Rockfarmer would be called something special.”

Her back bristled. “Maelys isn’t common.”

“I have a cousin called Maelys.”

Maelys glared at him.

“I’m Nirin.”

“Now that’s a common name. I can’t even count all the Aneirins I know.”

He leaned forward, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Really? Let’s hear you try.”

“I can’t.” She scowled. “They’re all over.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.” Maelys started swinging her legs again to change the subject.

“Maelys, do you think I’m handsome?”

“Yes,” she said cheerfully. Then she scowled. Her legs stopped kicking.

Casting her a wicked grin, Aneirin said, “Never let someone put you under a geas. That’s the first thing in stupid.”

Maelys’s forced her legs to start kicking again, imagining herself slamming her boots into his stomach every time. “Let’s do this. Ask me something about the Rockfarmers.”

“Why do you think I’m handsome?”

“Your eyes are pretty and you aren’t too dumb and you’re tall,” Maelys said instantly. She cursed and jumped off the desk. “I’m going to kill you.”

Aneirin’s wicked grin was just about splitting his face. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”

Reluctantly, Maelys climbed back onto the desk, glaring. “You ask one more stupid question and a search party’s gonna find you three weeks from now lodged in the floor up to your testicles.”

He held up his hand innocently. “I had to make sure it was working.”

She snorted, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up her cheeks. Then something alarming occurred to her. “How long does a geas last?”

“As long as I leave it on.” As her eyes were widening, he said, “What do you know about your people the Rockfarmers?”

Maelys felt something stretch in her head. It felt like a ripping, and it made her vision go crossways and the breath leave her in a gasp. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that something was wrong with his spell, but couldn’t. She could only look at him in panic, hoping he would do something about it. To stop it.

Aneirin was frowning at her. “Okay, maybe I need to be more specific. Maelys, why did the Rockfarmers leave you on my grandmother’s doorstep?”

Maelys blacked out.