“What do you mean he’s not coming back?”

Agernon harrumphed. He placed the tea and biscuits on the table, the tray shaking as he did so. He then lowered himself slowly into his chair and looked Felitïa in the eye. “I mean exactly what I said. He left. Shortly after you did. Said there was nothing left here for him. Ungrateful wretch of a boy! After all I did for him.”

Felitïa sat down in the other chair, still stunned that Drummor was gone. When Agernon had firist said he wasn’t there, she had just taken it to mean he was out. So she had gone on to fill Agernon in on the situation with Corvinian. It wasn’t until she asked when they could expect Drummor back that she realised the truth of the situation.

“I know the two of you were close,” Agernon said. “I’m sorry you had to learn this way, but you took off, too.” He pointed to Corvinian. “This the boy?”

“Yes. Does this mean you’ll help us?”

His wrinkled hand reached out and grabbed a biscuit, stuffing it in his mouth. While he chewed, he reached for the teapot. Felitïa reached it ahead of him though, and poured a cup for him. After he’d taken a sip, he said, “I’m not sure how I can help you, but I’ll do what I can.” He glared at Corvinian. “Well, take some then, if you’re going to!”

Corvinian leaned forward and snatched a handful of biscuits. Felitïa gave him a nudge. “Thank you,” he mumbled through a mouthful.

“I hoped maybe you might be able to find some explanation for Corvinian’s powers,” Felitïa said.

Agernon harrumphed again. “I suppose I can start by testing him. Boy, go stand by the fireplace.”

Corvinian stopped stuffing his face and looked worriedly at Felitïa.

“If you mean for magical talent,” Meleng said, taking a mug and reaching for the teapot, “I’ve already tested him. He doesn’t have any, like Felitïa said. And Jorvan says—”

“Pheh!” Agernon spat. “I’ve never believed in that nonsense that Isyar just have to look at a person to tell if they have the talent.”

“But Jorvan is an Isyar,” Meleng said. “He should know whether he can—”

“Yes, and I notice your Jorvan took off the moment he saw me! Rather suspicious if you ask me.”

“Well, he wanted to speak to someone. I think.” Meleng looked at Felitïa. “Didn’t he?”

She nodded. “Agernon, whether you believe that Isyar can...” She trailed off as Agernon smiled at her. He reached over and patted her hand.

“I don’t mean to doubt your friends. Just humour an old man, and let me explore every possibility. No offence, young man, but I suspect I have many years experience over you and I may notice something you missed. Or your Isyar friend.”

Meleng poured himself some tea. “I suppose that’s a good point. I could have missed something. I’m not really all that good a wizard anyway. In fact I was hoping to ask if—”

“Bah! Saying things like that is what makes you a bad wizard. Have confidence in yourself, boy. I’m not calling you incompetent, just inexperienced. Now shut up, watch, and learn.”

“Corvinian, go stand where Agernon told you,” Felitïa said. She wondered what was taking Jorvan so long. Perhaps the other Isyar had lots to say.

Nervously, Corvinian did as he was told. “Will this hurt?”

“Nonsense!” Agernon said, rising slowly from his seat. Leaning heavily on his cane, he hobbled over to Corvinian and began to circle him. The boy began to follow him with his head, turning when Agernon had moved too far. “Stand still!” Corvinian went still as a statue.

Felitïa watched, reminded of the time Agernon had done this with her. She had only been a couple years older than Corvinian was. And she had been just as frightened and nervous—although perhaps for different reasons. Of course, Corvinian had been through it before with Meleng, though she suspected Meleng had a very different method.

After several minutes of circling and peering intensely at the young boy, Agernon finally stopped in front of him. With great effort, he tried to kneel down. He looked ready to keel over, so Felitïa rushed forward to help, but he waved her away. She backed up, and he managed to kneel on his own. He then touched his hands to Corvinian’s ears the way he had done with her so many years ago, traced small designs with his fingers, and intoned the spell. Felitïa remembered the jolt that had run through her at this point, making her start and almost ruin the spell. But Corvinian did not move. Agernon lowered his arms, and shook his head. He pulled himself to his feet and hobbled back to his chair.

“Is that it?” Corvinian asked. “What happened? Did it work?”

Agernon shook his head. “No. Your friends were right, Felitïa. There’s no talent there.”

Corvinian shrugged. “That’s okay. I don’t want to be a wizard. I’m going to be a warrior like Rudiger!” He began to hop about, mimicking swordplay.

“Is it possible it’s being blocked somehow?” Meleng said. “I mean, Felitïa can’t detect any thoughts from him either.”

“It’s possible,” Agernon said. “But I’ll need to do much more thorough tests to know for sure.”

Agernon reached out for another biscuit, grabbing one just before Corvinian darted by, scooping another handful for himself. Agernon harrumphed.

Felitïa poured herself a cup of tea. They sat there for a few moments, the only sounds coming from Corvinian fighting pretend monsters and Meleng trying to convince him to be quieter. “So, how have you been?” she asked eventually.

Agernon stuffed another biscuit in his mouth, chewed for several seconds, and swallowed. “I’m alive. That’s something, I suppose. Can’t really ask for more.” He grinned and consumed another biscuit from the diminishing pile. But his feelings were not of happiness.

“Have you been able to manage without Drummor?”

“Well enough.”

“Of course,” she said. His feelings were definitely turning towards sadness. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring up the topic.

“He’s young,” Agernon said, “full of high hopes and impossible dreams. Like I said, he felt there was nothing left here for him, that he needed to prove himself. Ha! What he needs to do is, learn that he doesn’t need to prove himself. Learn some patience. Learn some wisdom.”

“I’m sorry,” Felitïa said. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad feelings.”

He shook his head. “No, no. Don’t you be sorry. We parted amiably enough. Well, there might have been a few harsh words spoken in haste, but a man does need to make his own mark on the world, eventually. And I may be old, but I’m not helpless yet. Some more tea?”

“Yes, please.” She reached for the teapot. Before she could grab it, however, he tapped it and it rose on its own, floated over to her mug, and poured her a cup.

“Wow!” Corvinian gasped from across the room. “Meleng, can you do that?”

Agernon laughed hoarsely; the laugh soon turned to a cough. After a few seconds, he recovered and took another sip of his own tea. “I haven’t totally lost my wits, girl. While my physical skills may have deteriorated, my magical skills are as sharp as ever. You won’t see me losing my head the way Elderaan did.” He stopped and waves of guilt flooded from him. His hands fumbled for another biscuit. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He stuffed the biscuit in his mouth and rubbed at his eyes.

“I miss him, too,” Felitïa said.

“Who said anything about missing anyone?” the old man grumbled. “You’re a woman; of course you miss him. Me? I’m better off without him around. Card games? Bah! I’ve got better things to do with my time than play cards.”

Same old Agernon, Felitïa thought. Stubborn to the end. “I feel lost without him, so uncertain where to turn, what to do next.”

“You always were too dependent on him.” The teapot floating over to Agernon and poured another cup. “Not your fault, though. He treated you more like a daughter than an apprentice.”

“He said the same the thing about you and Drummor.”

“Why the hell would I treat Drummor like my daughter?” Agernon barked and then broke into a fit of laughs and coughs. Felitïa put a hand over her mouth to stifle her own laughter. One could never be sure with Agernon whether he wanted others to laugh with him or not.

“That’s better,” Agernon said. “You may be trying to hide it, but I see a smile on that pretty young face. You’ve done nothing but scowl since you walked through my door.”

“I have not!” she protested, then laughed a little.

Agernon took a long sip of his tea, staring at her all the while in that way of his. Finally, he put the teacup down, scratched his bald head, and smiled. “Elderaan taught you well, Felitïa. He knew it, I know it, and you know it, too. You’re ready to be on your own; you just have to accept it. In all likelihood, you’ll be a better wizard than he was, better than I am or could ever hope to be. You’re strong, intelligent, and stubborn as a mule. There’s even the beginnings of wisdom locked up in your head somewhere. You’re a damn sight prettier than he was, too.” He chuckled.

“Thank you,” Felitïa said.

Agernon’s hands gripped the edge of the table. With a groan, he pulled himself upright from his chair. A moment after, his cane floated over to him. “Now then.” He hobbled a few steps closer to her and offered his hand. She took it, but made certain to stand without putting any weight on it. “I have some affairs to take care of, but why don’t you and the boy return in the morning? You can even bring that Isyar friend of yours if you think he can handle being around a real wizard!” He chuckled.

“I don’t understand where he’s got to,” she said, motioning to Corvinian to join her. Perhaps Jorvan had just got lost.

“He’ll turn up,” Agernon said. “In the meantime, I suggest you check in at the Hall of Knowledge. Get Pedrin to help you search the stacks and let me know anything you find.”

“Thank you again, Agernon,” she said as she slipped on her cloak.

“Thank you, Felitïa. It’s been wonderful seeing you again, my dear.”

She kissed him on the forehead. “And you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

“First light!” he stated as she opened the front door. “I don’t intend to waste half the day waiting for you, so you’d better be here!”

Felitïa nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here at first light.” She stepped outside.

Corvinian followed her. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she’s here on time.”

“You do that, boy,” Agernon chuckled. “You know these women. Always full of flights of fancy. Can’t keep track of time.”

“You can count on me, sir!”

“As for you, young man,” Agernon said to Meleng as he joined Felitïa and Corvinian, “we’re going to have a long talk tomorrow. Without Drummor, you’ll be my second, and I don’t need any of that damn self-doubt, you hear me?”

Meleng nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Good. Now off with you all. I’ve got things to do.” He ushered them outside and shut the door.

“I like him!” Corvinian announced. “He’s nice.”

“Nice, is he?” Felitïa said.

“Yep,” Corvinian said, skipping ahead into the street and calling back. “He just pretends to be mean and grumpy.”

The boy was certainly observant.

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“Don’t get too far ahead, Corvinian!” Meleng called.

Corvinian continued to dash ahead for the entire trudge to the Hall of Knowledge, forcing either Felitïa or Meleng to run after him each time. It was amusing at first, but by the time they reached the bottom of the entry stairs, Felitïa was getting annoyed.

“Corvinian!” she snapped as he bounded onto the stairs. “For the last time, listen to Meleng and me. Those steps are treacherous in this weather. You could slip and hurt yourself.”

Corvinian stopped and turned around, scowling. “You’re no fun.”

“Corvinian,” Meleng said. “It’s not about fun. It’s about being safe. It’s about not falling down the stairs.”

“My powers will protect me.”

“We don’t actually know that,” Meleng said. “You’ve fallen over before, right?”

Corvinian shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“From what I can tell, your powers protect you from outside threats, not things like falling over.”

“Fine then, I’ll be careful.” He turned back around and started climbing the stairs—and stumbled on the first one, though he didn’t fall. “It is slippy.”

Felitïa and Meleng moved up to him. “Let’s go up together,” she said.

Meleng took a deep breath. “It’s a lot like one of those Ninifin step pyramids or ziggurats. I mean, I’ve never actually seen a real one, but I’ve seen drawings, and it looks similar. I didn’t think the Ninifins were ever this far north.”

“They weren’t,” Felitïa said. “Though I think some of their near relatives might have been. I’m not really sure. From what I understand though, there are certainly some architectural similarities. The steps are hell in winter though.”

“It’s beautiful. What happened there?”

Felitïa looked up the steps. One of the dragon gargoyles over the entrance had collapsed, leaving a pile of jagged stones in front of the doors. She shrugged. “No idea, though the building is old. Those gargoyles have looked like they could collapse at any moment for as long as I’ve known the place. I suppose one was bound to give way eventually.”

“I wonder why the rubble hasn’t been cleared.”

“Maybe there hasn’t been a chance yet, or they just don’t have the money to clear it. The Hall of Knowledge is pretty close to broke these days.”

It was still possible to skirt around the rubble to the doors, which is what they did once they reached the top. Though Corvinian tried to climb over one of the bigger pieces—the dragon’s snout—and had to be reminded of his promise to be careful.

“Wow, this room is big!” the boy said as they entered the main foyer.

A robed librarian stood at the far end of the room, warming his hands by the meagre fire. Felitïa headed across to him, followed by the other two. The librarian turned at the sound of their boots on the stone floor. “Asa?”

Felitïa smiled at him. “Hello Pedrin.”

“I... I heard you’d left town.”

“I did, but I’m back now.” She reached him and opened her arms to hug him, but he withdrew a step. She lowered her arms, surprised. “Uh, these are a couple friends of mine. Meleng and Corvinian.”

“A, uh, pleasure,” Pedrin said, extending a hand to Meleng, but not taking his eyes off Felitïa.

Meleng took the hand and shook it. “A pleasure, too. I’ve heard a lot about the Hall of Knowledge, and I’ve been so looking forward to being here and getting to see your library. It’s said that you have one of the biggest magical collections in all of Arnor.”

“Yes, um, yes, I suppose we do.”

There was a hint of what might be nervousness from Pedrin, but Felitïa’s abilities were choosing to have one of their less receptive moments. At least she didn’t have to fear that they were gone forever. “Is everything all right, Pedrin?”

Pedrin gave her a wide smile. “Yes, of course. Sorry. You startled me, is all. It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” Felitïa said. “What happened to the gargoyle outside?”

“Oh, it just... collapsed. It was old. Bound to happen eventually. How can I help you?”

“It’s a bit of a long story,” Felitïa replied. “I’d like to see Ezmelda if she’s in.”

Pedrin nodded.

“While I talk to her, perhaps you could show Meleng to the stacks. He can tell you what we need to look for.”

“Yes, of course. I believe Ezmelda is in her office. I’ll show you there and then show your friend to the stacks. This way.”

Pedrin led the way through the back door and down the steps into the heart of the Hall of Knowledge. Corvinian ducked past his long legs to look ahead, but Felitïa held Meleng back a moment.

“Keep alert,” she whispered.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. Something’s not right. Pedrin’s strangely nervous. Just... Just keep your eyes and ears open.” She took a quick look back towards the entrance and the doors leading back to the collapsed gargoyle.

Had it really collapsed from age?

In all her years visiting the Hall of Knowledge, Felitïa had never been to Ezmelda’s office. She had visited many areas of the stacks and had used several of the study rooms multiple times, but all her interactions with the High Steward had been in those areas or the main foyer. She rarely saw any of the administrative areas.

Pedrin knocked on the door of Ezmelda’s office and when she responded, he opened the door. “High Steward, Asa has returned and would like to speak to you.”

“Asa? Please send her in.”

Pedrin stood aside to let Felitïa enter. Corvinian darted in first, and Felitïa followed.

The room was long and narrow, but had a very homey look to it. A plain red carpet stretched the length of the room up to a simple wooden desk. Lining the walls were short bookshelves crammed with books and above the shelves hung a few paintings.

Ezmelda stood from behind the desk and came forward. “Asa! How wonderful to see you again! I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Neither did I, to be honest,” Felitïa said, “but circumstances change. Can we talk?”

“Of course. Please, come in! These are friends of yours?”

“Yes, Meleng and Corvinian.”

“High Steward,” Pedrin said, “if it’s all right, I’m going to show Asa’s friend Meleng to the stacks and assist him there.”

“Yes, of course,” Ezmelda said. “You know what to do.”

Pedrin nodded. “Yes, of course.” He gestured to Meleng. “This way please.”

Meleng glanced at Felitïa, a hint of concern coming from him, then followed Pedrin. The librarian closed the door, leaving Felitïa and Corvinian alone with Ezmelda.

Ezmelda strolled back to her desk. “Please, have a seat. How can I help you?”

Felitïa followed her and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Ezmelda remained standing.

“You have a lot of books,” Corvinian said.

“If you think that’s a lot, Corvinian,” Felitïa said, “you should have gone with Meleng to see the stacks.” She was beginning to wonder if that might have been a better idea. Ezmelda was nervous too. Felitïa still couldn’t detect a lot, but a little was getting through—and when her telepathy was in this state, emotions had to be strong to get through at all.

“I’m sure he’ll get a chance to see the stacks later,” Ezmelda said. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“It’s a long story, but it has to do with Corvinian. We need help. You see, he has...” She stopped.

Ezmelda’s head was lowered and there was a hint of a tear in her eyes.

Felitïa stood up slowly. “Ezmelda, is everything okay?”

“You shouldn’t have come back, Asa. Or should I say, your Highness?” Ezmelda raised her arms above her head.

“Corvinian, run! Get out of here!”

Ezmelda swung her arms down and around in a circle. Iron bands shot from nowhere, wrapping around Felitïa’s wrists, and pulling her backwards and off her feet. The back of her head collided hard with the carpet, which did little to soften the stone underneath it. The iron bands clacked against the floor and held firm.

Corvinian had started running, but stopped and looked back at her. “What do I do?”

Felitïa couldn’t spare the time to answer him. The pain in her head was excruciating, but she ignored it and concentrated on a spell. She couldn’t raise her arms, but she only needed to twist her wrists slightly. She whispered the words.

Ezmelda swung her arms up and down in a circle again. Another pair of bands appeared, but Felitïa’s spell had clouded Ezmelda’s thoughts just enough to draw her aim off. The bands slammed into the floor beside her legs.

Ezmelda shook her head. “Don’t make me harm you, Asa. Please!”

Felitïa tried to pull her arms free, but couldn’t. She started another spell, but Ezmelda swung her arms around again and this time, she didn’t miss. The bands held her legs firm now as well. Then a leather gag appeared and thrust itself into her mouth.

“Felitïa!”

She strained to turn her head to see Corvinian, but couldn’t turn far enough.

“Stay right there, boy! Asa is fine for now, but come any closer and I will hurt her.”

“No, I won’t let you hurt her!”

Corvinian ran into view, straight at Ezmelda, but she swung her arms again and bands shot at the boy—and burst apart as blue energy surrounded him. Ezmelda’s jaw dropped. She punched her hand above her head, but was too slow. The energy shot out and wrapped around her. She propelled backwards into her desk, and flipped over it.

Felitïa tried to yell at Corvinian to stop, but the gag in her mouth made it come out as a mumble.

It was enough to get the boy’s attention, however. He ran over to her, the glow still surrounding him. He bent down and pulled the gag from her mouth.

“It’s all right,” she said. “You don’t need to hurt Ezmelda.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, but it just... It just happened on its own.”

“I know. You just need to be calm. Okay? Just relax.”

He nodded and the glow diminished in intensity a little, although it didn’t vanish.

Behind him, Ezmelda climbed to her feet, rubbing at her jaw. Her lip was cut and her nose bleeding.

“Please, Ezmelda, don’t try anything against Corvinian. We surrender.”

Ezmelda stumbled around the desk. “How could a boy so young have such control over magic?”

“He doesn’t,” Felitïa said. “That’s why you do not want to threaten him. Just accept our surrender so no one gets hurt.”

Ezmelda nodded. “I accept your surrender.” She waved her right hand and the bands holding Felitïa released.

“Thank you,” Felitïa said.

Corvinian’s glow had diminished a little more, but it had still not disappeared.

Felitïa sat up and the pain in her head stabbed harder. She put a hand to the back of her head and felt something warm and sticky. Her fingers returned red.

Ezmelda held out a hand to help her up, and Felitïa took it. “What happened?”

Ezmelda went back round her desk again and slumped into her chair. She rubbed her jaw some more. “You did. You lied to us, Asa. You lied to me all these years.”

Felitïa sat down in the chair she had been in before and grimaced at the pain. Every time she moved, it stabbed at her. “You did all this because of a lie?”

“No, but it made it easier. The anger I felt. The disappointment. I trusted you.”

“So why?”

“Lord Belone’s soldiers stormed the Hall a couple months ago. They had learned your secret. They accused us of kidnapping you and holding you here in Quorge against your will. We tried to explain that we didn’t know, but they either didn’t believe us or didn’t care. They told us we would be executed, unless we agreed to turn you over should you ever return to Quorge.”

“I see. And do you intend to hand me over?”

“Yes. If it was just me, I might refuse, but they will execute the entire Council.”

“But surely the whole Council working together should be more than a match for a few soldiers.”

Ezmelda scoffed. “First off, Asa or whatever the hell I should be calling you, we don’t want to hurt anyone, especially not for someone who has been lying to us for years. And second...” She paused, and hints of fear came from her. “Lord Belone has an Isyar working with him. She is more powerful than all of us combined. You must have seen the gargoyle out front. She brought that down and threatened to raze the entire hall. I don’t doubt for a moment that she could have done it. We wouldn’t have stood a chance against her.”

“Oh hell. Jorvan.”

“What?”

“A friend of mine,” Felitïa said. “He’s an Isyar. He saw another Isyar when we arrived in town and went to try to speak to her. She must have been luring him away. That’s why he hasn’t come back.”

“That seems a reasonable assumption,” Ezmelda said.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Corvinian asked softly. The glow was gone now.

“Depends how much he resisted,” Ezmelda responded. “Though if he’s an Isyar, he might be the only one powerful enough to face her.”

“What happens now?” Felitïa asked.

“We wait. Pedrin’s gone to summon Lord Belone’s men.”

“What of my friend, Meleng?”

“He’ll be fine. Like I said, we don’t want to hurt anyone. At worst, he’s tied up somewhere. Why didn’t you tell me who you were, Asa?”

“Would it have made a difference?”

“It might have. At the very least, we could have prepared for the possibility of people coming after you.”

“And how could I be sure none of you would turn me in?”

Ezmelda shook her head. “You should have told us.”

“How many people know what happened? I saw Agernon today. Did he know? Did he send me here into a trap?”

“No. Only the Council knew. We specifically didn’t say anything to Agernon as we suspected he already knew your identity and we didn’t want him warning you.”

That was a relief. She wasn’t sure she could have handled Agernon working against her.

“For what it’s worth, Asa, I’m sorry it came to this.”

“So am I.” She hoped Jorvan was okay. And Zandrue and Rudiger.