This is a short installment. One could probably call it 34B, but I think it further develops the three travelers we are following. Ean is in disguise and desperately wants to get to the final destination. Cara and Peter, seem a bit more at peace with seeing themselves as adventurers, or maybe they know something that even I the write don’t. There is clearly a hesitancy, a desire to keep travelling, even though their destination is so close. Lots of questions to consider. So tra la la…*
They left the warm indulgences of the Crone’s Compass for the unexpected delights or disaster of the wild woods. The air smelled always of an impending storm. But Ean was glad to be out of the tavern. It was designed for comfort, which did not bode well for the creation of magic. The food was too good, the wood too oiled, the beds far too soft and the fires much too cozy. The books were too much about idle adventures. Hearty stews and decadent beds—these were the problems with hearth witches and hedge wizards. Oh, they could look imposing. They could even be very knowledgeable when it came to herbs and alchemic principles, but they lacked ambition. They lacked any desire aside from a good night’s sleep and a secure roof during the winter storms. A full belly was all they needed magic for.
It irritated Ean to have such cowardly mongrels as his subjects. But then again, the more they kept to their small fires, the less rivals he had for his crown. This was exactly why he needed access to Seinseyabo Library. He would not permit these humdrum mountain folk to challenge him. He would suffer no fool, witch or universe.
“Master Re’em? Are you all right?” Caragris asked. Was there amusement in the child’s voice? Ean frowned. The boy was far too smart. Far too inquisitive—too magician like.
“I’m fine. Just finding my bearings, is all. Cushioning my bones. We have a ways to walk. Once we’re free of magical interference, we can travel a bit faster. I’ve got spells for that.”
“Probably not as fast as Lord Dream,” Peter said.
Cara smiled at Peter. “Or Time.”
Through gritted teeth, Ean replied, “then perhaps you should find them to travel you about.”
“We meant no offense, Master Re’em. We just miss our friends. I’m sure your magic will be extraordinary,” Cara said in his most diplomatic tone.
“More magic than we have,” Peter said. “We have none.”
Ean went to say something but the boys pulled him along, asking questions about magic which was an obvious ploy to make Old Man Re’em feel good. And, begrudgingly, it worked.
jaedawson 