Chapter Twenty-Five

They caught up with the caravan in less than half an hour. It would have taken less time if the long train of wagons had stopped for them, but it would seem her arrival didn’t justify the lost time. She didn’t really mind. Mister Greeny ensured she was comfortable, no matter how long she had to sit on top of him.

She and her ‘mount’ garnered many long, curious looks as they trotted past the rattling wagons and their drivers and attendants, inoculating her even further to the eyes of others. Whatever contents were inside the wagons were hidden underneath taught canvas tarps , making them look like cream-colored beetles crawling along the muddled road at a sedate pace. And a few dozen other men, all armed and armored, flanked the wooden insects like shepherds watching over their flock while atop their own horses.

They moved down the long train until the covered wagons gave way to tall carriages. They were built of lacquered wood and trimmed with copper that had developed a patina of turquoise, and the doors framed a sigil that looked like half-a-dozen flat disks piled in front of a large, nondescript building, all in tarnished copper itself.

Nia thought they would make their way to the front of the train, but the two men escorting her slowed until they matched speed with one of the carriages in the middle of the others. She was still busy marveling at the ingenuity of the carriage when one of the men leaned over and rapped briskly on the carriage’s shuttered window.

The shutters opened outward quickly, making Nia jump back involuntarily. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.

“Yes?”

Nia took note of the woman’s smooth but husky voice. It almost reminded her of her mother’s, not quite, but close enough that her chest tightened for more than a single breath. She couldn’t help herself as she leaned forward, her upper body tangling in Mister Greeny’s twisted rack as she tried to peer into the rumbling carriage. She knew that it wasn’t her but was still disappointed when she saw the ebony hair and dark, caramel skin of the woman speaking.

“A…” The man turned to her for a brief moment before returning his attention to the woman inside the carriage.” …mage wishes to speak with Sir Bucholz.”

“He is resting at the moment,” The woman said before her next words popped into existence. “But I am more than willing to entertain them while he does so.”

A shrill whistle cut through the air, repeating itself as it moved away from them in waves. Almost immediately, the entire caravan stopped to the sounds of creaking wood and stomping and whinnying horses. The door to the carriage next to them swung open, but no one disembarked. Instead, the same woman’s voice cut through the quiet din of everything else happening around them and bade her to enter.

Nia looked to the men atop their horses, and they looked back at her expectantly. She gently patted Mister Greeny on the neck before quietly leaning over to speak with him. “Stay close, okay?”

He gave his head a short nod, doing no more than that out of fear of poking her eye out with his antlers. Mister Greeny then knelt down on the muddy road to let her down, but not before his magic flared, and a wide strip of soft grass rolled out in front of them like someone shaking out a carpet to cover the muddy ground. The horses reared back at the sudden explosion of greenery, expressing their discontent with much snorting and shaking of their manes. On the other hand, the men were well trained and, although surprised, did their best to calm their mounts before the beasts bolted for safety.

Nia glared at the stag out of the corner of her eye before rolling them. She didn’t think a display of power was truly necessary, but it was too late now. She just had to go with it. With her head held high and her heart thundering in her chest, she strode toward the open carriage door.

“O—oh, thank you,” She almost didn’t notice the well-dressed man standing next to the open carriage door with his hand held out to help her inside. She gave him a small smile before stepping up into the passenger box.

It was warm inside, more so than what could have been from body heat, and even though the other windows were closed and shuttered and the only opening was the door she was stepping through, light still permeated the entire cabin. The scent of wildflowers accompanied the warmth, and it would have been pleasant if it wasn’t so… artificial. The smell did more to irritate her than it did to please her. It was something she would have to grow used to.

Nia ducked her head as she entered the stuffy cabin, taking one soft step before gingerly perching herself on a deep bench upholstered in smooth, crimson velvet. The ebony-haired woman sat silently across from her, wearing a style of dress Nia had never seen before. The fabric was as black as her hair and looked every bit as soft, with only thin straps holding it onto her shoulders, a deep cut that exposed much of her heavy breasts to anyone with eyes, and a slit that ran up one side all the way to her upper thigh. Her bare legs were crossed at the knees , and curious, hazel eyes watched her intently.

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Next to the woman was a man. An ancient-looking man with deep wrinkles etched across his liver-spotted face like sun-baked mud. He was bald but made up for it with thick brows that boasted feral, wiry grey hair, ears twice the size as her own, and a hooked nose that jutted above a toothless mouth and cast a long shadow across a weak chin. He had his head back against the carriage's wall, and it started to jostle back and forth as the horses began to move. The only reason Nia hadn’t thought he was dead was from the slight movement of his chest he took with each slow breath.

“I adore your dress.” The caramel-skinned woman complimented.

“Th—thank you,” Nia said quickly. Once the door shut, her false bravado evaporated, causing her to feel like a small animal trapped in a cage. She avoided the woman’s probing eyes and motioned toward the old man asleep in the corner. “Is he all right?”

The woman’s face split into a toothy grin. “Oh, yes, he is just fine. My beloved gets so worn down from all of the traveling, there is nothing to fear.”

“So, you’re Missus Bucholz?” Nia asked the obvious as she tried to sus out what the woman was thinking.

“ Lady Bucholz,” She corrected with a strained lilt hinted in her voice before smiling. “But you may call me Marina.”

“My name is Nia,” Nia said while offering Marina a slight nod.

“ Just Nia? No surname?” Nia could only shake her head. Everyone in the village only had one name. Two names were something new to her.

“How very… odd.” Marina continued. “Well, Nia. What can I do for you?”

Nia cleared her throat, feeling supremely uncomfortable underneath Marina’s scrutinizing gaze. She could see that the woman wasn’t afraid of her title of ‘mage’ at all and wasn’t even sure she believed Nia was one. Nia shook her head. She was overthinking things. So what if she didn’t believe Nia was a mage? She could use mana, and that qualified her as one, even if she didn’t have an official title.

She looked from Marina to the sleeping Vincent. She was told the man might know something, but it didn’t seem like he was in the condition to answer her questions. “The elves,” Nia started as her eyes swung back to the woman across from her. “I’m… looking for them. I’m willing to—”

“Aren’t we all, Nia .” Marina interrupted before she leaned forward and plucked a crystal glass from a rattling silver platter nearby. Gracefully, she poured some amber liquid from a large decanter into it and handed it to Nia before doing the same for herself. “I find brandy much easier on the figure than something sweet, like wine. As you get older, that is something you must watch for, but I am sure you have several years before you have to worry about such things.” She took a sip from her glass, her eyes never leaving Nia’s. “Tell me, Nia, how old are you?”

“Uh…” Nia stumbled over her words as the question knocked her off balance. Should she answer? Why did she want to know? Nia was certain there was more to the question than pure curiosity. “I—I’m still only a student, honestly.”

Nia nearly grimaced at her answer, immediately chastising herself for falling into the rhythm of the other woman. At least she didn’t give too much away. She didn’t know how Marina would react to her only being seventeen.

“Still an apprentice? And you are out near the Endless Forest all by yourself and with no attendants?” Mariana hummed as she took another sip from her crystal glass. “Who is your master? It is unusual to be so thoroughly left to one’s devices.” She leaned back on the bench and peered out the slats covering the window. “Is that your master’s golem? I have never seen one so… intricately made. They must be quite a high rank…”

Marian’s inquisition came rapid fire, flustering Nia to no end as she struggled to fight against the tempo. She recognized the words Marina was saying but had no clue how they were associated with mages. She didn’t want to hint at her not being one or not associated with them any more than she already had.

“The elves?” Nia almost shouted in a flustered attempt to get the conversation going in her desired direction.

“Oh, yes. Please forgive me. It is rare to find another woman interested in the magical arts.” Marina nearly whispered with a smile on her face. “They are so… rare. ”

The color drained from Nia’s face as she took in the other woman’s words. Was Marina a mage? What would the woman do if she was and knew that Nia wasn’t? She couldn’t stop herself from shifting uncomfortably in her seat and her fingers from grasping the crystal glass tightly. Nia let out a nervous laugh while her brain ground to a halt but was saved from having to explain anything by Marina’s next words.

“Do not fret. Your secret is safe with me.” Marina leaned forward and placed her hand over one of Nia’s in a comforting gesture that had the opposite effect on the rattled girl. “Those stuffy misers only ever allow women into their little circles if they are either nobility or obscenely gifted, and then it is only to take advantage of them. It is not worth it, in my opinion.” She leaned back until her narrow and bare shoulders rested on the backrest. “Still, the power of the aether is too tempting to ignore, and we who are shunned by those who clutch onto the knowledge like pearls must work to unlock it with nothing but our own guile and determination.”

So, tell me, Nia. Are you someone that I can trust?”