Читать книгу Fire Angels - Jane Routley - Страница 6

Trust Parrus to pick this highly inconvenient moment to show up.

Parrus Lavelle was the son of the local noble family, employed much against his will overseeing his family's estates while the rest of them lived in the city currying favor with the Duke of Gallia. He was also a mage and since I was the only other magic user in the district we had naturally been drawn together, with perhaps predictable results. There had been a time when I could have become seriously in love with Parrus. It had been Parrus himself who had put a stop to that. He made sure I knew that there was no future in our relationship, that it was just a physical thing. For the best really. I couldn't see any relationship surviving the fact that I had once loved and possibly still loved a demon.

For all that, our relationship had lasted for over a year. We had a kind of teasing friendship with an extra element of passion thrown in. Parrus must have at least wished me well for he was very discreet about our relationship. When I had first become involved with him I had not considered that such a course of action might lead to my disgrace and dismissal. To be a male sower of wild oats is a very fine thing, but Cardun is like every other place in this world in that the female half of this crop sowing is regarded as a scandalous whore. Fortunately - though I suspect our involvement was well known in many quarters - as long as we weren't too obvious, most eyes resolutely turned the other way.

Parrus was tall and slim and although he was a little stooped, very good looking in a rather cool way. He was wearing a new set of blue mages robes which set off his dark hair and eyes admirably. He looked startled at my reaction.

"Is something wrong?" he cried. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh Parrus. Yes, Yes. No. Nothing's wrong."

I made it a rule never to tell Parrus anything important, but at this point I was too churned up to be silent.

"Just a letter. Parrus, you've just been to Gallia. Is it true what they say? That the Morian Burning Light has given themselves over to necromancy?"

He looked even more surprised at this. "By the Seven, who's been writing to you?"

"Just a friend." I crushed the letter into my pocket. "So it's true then?"

Parrus shrugged. "They do say so, but as far as anyone could tell in the College of Mages it more to do with religion than magic. Perhaps you've heard of Hierarch Jarraz and how he has a statue of Karana that sends him visions and messages from God? Well you know how the church is always suspicions lest such things come from demons or evil spirits deceiving the Holy. It seems the Patriarch has decided that Hierarch Jarraz's Karana is an evil necromantic spirit."

"That's all it is? There's nothing else."

"You're so pretty when you're serious, Dion."

"Parrus!" I pushed him away.

He shrugged.

”I don't think so; though I did hear all kinds of wild rumors about Hierarchs fleeing the country, people being killed by necromancers and fiery angels battling demons over the sea for the souls of the Burning Light. I called on some fellows in the college while I was there. The White College doesn't seem overly concerned, though of course they are sending regiments of mages with this invasion force. It's just politics, Dion. Hierarch Jarraz has been making very critical prophesies about the Patriarch. The Patriarch might be sympathetic to the Burning Light's desire to reform the church, but he cannot be seen tolerate it when they go so far as to criticize him personally."

"So the Duke has known about there being necromancy in Moria for some time."

"No Dion. He's been saying he knew. It's quite a different thing. That's politics, not fact."

Duke Leon was a well-liked ruler and it was unusual to find a Gallian being so cynical about his motives. However Parrus' late father Tirus had been involved in an early plot to put the Duke's brother Dane on the Gallian throne and the family was still laboring under the punishments they had received. For instance, Parrus, who was a mage, had been forbidden to attend the White College in Gallia and had had to be educated in the far southern state of Borgon well outside Leon Saar's influence. This was also the reason he was "rotting in this Godforsaken backwater" instead of having a position as a mage somewhere.

I thought again of the dreams. Horror filled me. What if it was not just politics and the Duke and the Patriarch knew more than they were saying.

"Necromancy in Moria. That's terrible. We ... We must all go and join the army, join the fight."

"Well where do you think I've been? But it was all for nothing. My mother says three of us are enough for the army and I've been sent back here to rot while the others get to go ... You're not upset then? I've been being so discreet and now it seems you know all about it."

"Discreet? Upset? Why should I be?"

"You're Morian. The wars against Moria. I thought ..."

"I've got no objection to the Duke kicking the Burning Light's arse for them. The quicker the better."

"And then ..."

"Well he's been a good ruler to Gallia. It's peaceful. People are left alone to get on with things. That's all you can hope for from a ruler."

"What a little cynic you are, sweet Dion," grinned Parrus.

"I can't help thinking I should be going now to Gallia to offer myself for the army. I mean, necromancy. Every mage should ..."

"Dion, Dion, Surely you're not going to fall for their words. I doubt if there is any real necromancy in Moria. It's just an excuse for the Patriarch to put the Burning Light back in its place and for the Duke to increase his power. Anyway you're only a woman. I know you've trained as a mage, but fighting's no place for women. I mean what could you do?"

The problem with Parrus was that I'd never told him what I was really capable of. Certainly he knew that, unlike most girls who were trained only as healers, I'd been privately educated as a mage, but he had no idea that I was the so-called Demonslayer of Gallia. It was something I'd wanted to forget so I hadn't told anyone. Also men don't usually like you to be better at things. Even I knew that.

So I'd been dishonest. Only in a sense though. I mean he'd never asked, after all, and I could imagine the scoffing my claims to be the Demonslayer would have earned me. Anyway, as Parrus continually reminded me, our relationship wasn't really serious, so there was hardly any need for him to know.

Deep down I knew that I just didn't trust him enough. My time as Dion the Powerful Mage had been marked by betrayal; the discovery that my foster father had purposely kept me ignorant of what I could do, an assassination attempt arranged by a close friend and later and much more bitterly betrayal by a lover, if Andre/Bedazzer could be called such a thing. I had thought about it often in the last three years. How could the powerful ever really know the motives of those who claimed to love them? Did my brothers back in my hut really care enough to protect me or was I just a useful tool to them? No wonder the Duke of Gallia, who had sipped from the cup of power and betrayal all his life, was such a cold man. Better to be perceived as nobody particularly useful. Then you could be more certain of sincerity.

Of course all this meant it was impossible to discuss the issue of what I should do about my brothers, what this suspected necromancy in Moria really meant, and even my disturbing dreams, with Parrus or really anyone in Cardun. Except maybe my Wanderer friend Causa, who had guessed something of my past. But who knew where she was?

"My brothers took me to see the army," Parrus was saying now. "It's huge. Most of the mages in the White Colleges of Gallia and Ishtak are going. There are four platoons of fighting mages. Then the Ishtaki merchants have hired three companies of Soprian mercenaries on top of the normal soldiers. And all of them have groups of healers in attendance. In all that company they're not going to miss you. Or me, unfortunately. Say what you will about Leon Saar, he doesn't go into battle half prepared. He must have been planning this little trip for months. Any way," he waggled an admonishing finger at me. "Your duty is first and foremost to the Parish Board who employ you. And to your parishioners. You can't just run off and leave them to fend for themselves. Duke Leon will do fine without us, I tell you."

I stood there wringing my hands. I really should tell him. I needed to talk this over with somebody. I had no doubt he was right about the Duke being well prepared. If there was more to the reports of necromancy in Moria than a fight between the Patriarch and Hierarch Jarraz, he could be counted upon to know about it. The Duke would have sent for me if he'd felt he needed me. He knew where I was and what I was capable of. To tell the truth I had no desire to become Dion Michealine the mage again. It wasn't cowardice. Or was it? But I'd been so unhappy living among the court. Out of place and always fearful of who was and wasn't my friend. It was just that I was one of the few mages on the Peninsula who had any experience with necromancy and I was powerful. Possibly I could be useful.

"So who are those two in the hut Dion?" Parrus asked with studied casualness. "I saw them go in so I thought I'd wait till you'd finished. Are they patients? They don't look like locals."

I shrugged.

"Or maybe they're suitors," he teased. But with Parrus everything was half serious. "Is that it? Dion. Am I cramping your style?"

"Oh Parrus! If you must know, they're my brothers out of Moria."

"Brothers! I never knew you had family. How fascinating."

He looked back down the track a little nervously. I knew what he was thinking. He was my lover, but he had no intention of marrying me and a brother might well be expected to take offence at that.

"So how come you're not back there talking to them?"

"We had a disagreement."

"Ah," said Parrus. "Family quarrels. I know that story so well. I've had quite a falling out with my mother ..."

"They want me to come back into Moria of all things," I burst out. At least I could tell him about this. "Would you believe it?"

Parrus was startled. "Seven! They're crazy. You mean they just came in here out of the blue and asked you to ... The Parish Board would never allow you to take a risk like that. Aumaz! Look, I'll go get some fellows and have them run off if you like. The cheek of them."

"Parrus. No! It's not such an unreasonable request." I had wanted Parrus's agreement but perversely now I'd got it, I found I disagreed.

”Yes it is. You let people impose on you, Dion. It's outrageous.”

"Well it's not necessarily a death sentence. I've met healers who went into Moria and came out safely. Apparently a lot of people smuggle healers into Moria."

"Well I hope they have a damned good reason."

"My sister is ... very sick."

I was suddenly unsure of how much to let Parrus know. If he found out I was the illegitimate daughter of an inn maid he'd never stop teasing me.

"Mind you," he said now, "With that huge army coming their way, the Morians would hardly be much interested in catching mages at the moment. It might be safer than it has been for some time."

"That's true." That was definitely a thought. I stared at the folded letter in my hands.

"Well," said Parrus with mock displeasure. "Here I am come specially to see you and all you can talk about is going off to Moria. Didn't you miss me while I was away?"

His hand came to rest on my waist.

"Did you miss me?" I couldn't resist chiding him. "I notice it's taken you a few days to come and see me."

"You weren't pining for me, were you? Counting the days. I'd hate to think I was cutting up your peace."

Curse Parrus. It was always the same little game. You care more than I care. If I had a gold coin for every time he started telling me about the respective merits of some high-born maiden his mother wanted him to marry, I'd have been a wealthy woman. This was a game I had no desire to be the loser in. I'd had enough unrequited love for a lifetime. Yet his hand resting on my waist felt really very pleasant. He was a good lover, was Parrus, for all his shallowness and it had been several weeks.

"Oh no," I said. "I've been busy."

"So no pining." He bent forward and kissed me softly on the lips. "Not for anything about me?"

His hand slid round my shoulders and, almost casually, began to rub the back of my neck. I loved that touch and he knew it. I felt desire rising in me surprisingly quickly. Thus do we seek to forget.

When his mouth came down on mine I kissed him back hard.

The next moment the bell was ringing. A moment later a man appeared around the corner of the track. My brother Tomas. Parrus jumped away.

"I'll see you later," he said moving quickly away down the track.

I went back towards Tomas.

"Who was that?" said Tomas. "He went off very quickly." There was just the hint of a smirk in his eyes.

I scowled at him. In Moria even more than in Gallia a brother is responsible for his sister's virtue. I hoped he wasn't going to take it upon himself to ask brother's questions, because if he did there would be trouble.

"There's a patient for you," he continued. "I'd say a broken wrist."

He was quite right. Gerdie Tora had fallen out of his loft and hurt himself and typically of the man, who was as pig-headed a soul as you could ever meet, he'd bound it up and finished the morning's work before coming to me. The wrist was now nastily swollen so it took some work to settle.

After he had gone, I went outside again without speaking to either of my brothers and started pulling weeds in the vegetable garden.

To my surprise I realized that I was no longer angry at them. Now I had distanced myself a little from my own feelings of hurt, I could see that they had acted quite reasonably. They needed help and they had come to the most obvious source. Those dreams ... I felt better about the fact that they probably didn't come from Andre/Bedazzer. But if they came from my sister Tasha in someway... The stone woman was certainly some kind of demonic vision. Necromancy? Demons and necromancers went hand in hand in this world. Sometimes so called good mages listened to the tempting voices of demons and slipped into necromancy, but somehow I doubted Tasha had. The dreams were too desperate and frightening for that.

I remembered Norval the necromancer I had fought against in Gallia, Andre/Bedazzer's master; a man of such inhuman malice, he had happily tortured to death 15 small children simply so he might send malicious messages through a protection barrier. Human beings, people who lived and loved and were important to those who loved them, were nothing but fodder to such people. I saw once again the hateful look of pleasure on Norval's face as he had lifted a steel headed hammer to smash his victim's fingers. Suddenly I was trembling with rage and hatred, my fists clenched. Such people deserved annihilation. I wanted to hurt, to burn ... While such people lived could I really sit here weeding vegetables and doing nothing? I was one of the few mages on this heavily protected peninsula who had had any contact with necromancy and demon magic. Surely it was up to me to use that knowledge now. I must at least investigate. Find out what was happening to this unknown sister of mine. If I didn't and something happened to her... Wouldn't I be in some way guilty of her death? Wouldn't I be in someway guilty for all the other deaths that might be taking place while I sat here dallying?

Stop it I told myself. You're being too emotional.

It would not do to become the old emotion-driven Dion, again. That had only lead to disaster. I must think calmly.

Right. So what if I went with my brothers into Moria? The imminent invasion would change things no doubt about that, but there would still be Witch Hunters.

In Moria, when it became against the law to practice magic outside the church, bands of priest-mages called Witch Hunters were formed and set to track down renegades so that they could be burnt at the stake, a fate usually reserved for necromancers. They used the standard spells, spells that work to make the sum of the magical powers of the participants greater than their powers separately. Thus four or five fairly weak mages could work together to capture a much stronger mage who was then chained in an iron collar and manacles known as Witch-manacles. Iron manacles rob mages of their power and make us just like any other mortal.

But how powerful would a group of witch hunters really be? Would they really be able to contain me? I was strong enough to fight and overcome a demon. Surely I could stand against ... No! Only a fool would put that needlessly to the test.

At this point, the door of the hut opened and Hamel came out. I wondered what heated discussions had preceded his appearance.

"May I help you?"

"No. I'm just weeding."

He sat down on a stump, took out a clay pipe and lit it.

"What did you think of your letter?"

"It made interesting reading. Relevant. Very relevant." I changed the subject. "What did you think of Kitten Avignon?"

His face lit up. "Oh. Charming. Charming. A great lady. Truly, I was surprised. I'd expected ... If she's a sinner, some of us would be better for a little damnation."

"And how did she receive you?"

"Graciously, but she is a good guard to you, Dion. It took two days before she would tell us your whereabouts and she kept us under close eye while she decided. She handled Tomas beautifully. I wish I could do it half so well. He was impatient to the point of rudeness. We had had a great disappointment."

"Disappointment?"

"Karac. Tasha's twin. They haven't spoken in years, but we where so sure that now when she was in such danger he would finally forgive her. We came to Gallia to ask his help. He's part of the retinue of Julia Madraga. A great man, now. But not to us. He told us, well, he told us that he'd never help us."

"In those words?"

"No! If you want to know exactly what he said, ask Tomas. It embarrasses me to use certain words before women." He spoke with a mixture of primness and self-mockery but under it all was anger.

"It is not planned the way Tomas and I are together, Dion," he went on. "It's just that he is hasty and I am not. He sparkles, does Tomas. I used to think of him as a silver sword and envy his daring. But since we begun this journey, I see that my own nature, which I used to consider so wooden, has definite advantages."

"So when Karac refused you, you looked around for me?"

"Aye! Marnie had told us you where in Gallia when she lay dying and Tomas had guessed that you were this Demonslayer we had heard so much of."

"How'd she know?"

"Marnie knew things. She was half Wanderer.”

Half Wanderer? So I was related to these people who so fascinated me. It was exciting to have my speculations confirmed.

"She had their gifts of foretelling," continued Hamel. "And she often knew the right thing to do was. She would say it was destiny that she did such and such a thing and after everyone was done scolding her, they'd turn round and see that she'd done something good. I'd give my right hand for a gift like that, wouldn't you?"

"I would indeed." Especially now. It seemed the right moment then to take the plunge, so I took it.

"So how safe is this route Tomas has planned to get me into Moria?"

A look of hope crossed Hamel's face. "You're thinking about it then."

"I'm thinking about it. It seems to me that these dreams which you say come from Tasha and these reports of necromancy may well be linked. And if they are ... I can hardly sit here with a clear conscience and do nothing, can I? So tell me."

"Tomas has been running healers across the border for almost four years. The money's very good for those who are prepared to take the risk. There's a whole ring of them with hiding places and everything. Tomas' father is in on it and his half-brother. They're both very important people. Tomas has a flair for dangerous enterprises. He says he's never lost anyone."

"Is that so?"

"I know he's never been in trouble. I wouldn't knowingly lead you into danger."

I went over to him. "I know nothing of you or you of me. Whereas I can see how attached you must be to Tasha. I fear that might blind you."

He grinned ruefully. "To tell the truth I used to avoid Tasha. She was a hard person to love. Last time I saw her she was blind drunk and called my wife a cow. But I can see why you would think that. Trust is a hard thing among strangers. You can't even know if we are telling the truth."

"But there are ways I can find out, aren't there? I was wondering if you and Tomas would be prepared to submit to a mind search. It will hurt you terribly, but it will help me decide."

"Of course," said Hamel. "Tomas and I have already talked about this and we both think it would be best. We can start now if you wish. I'll get Tomas. Tomas!"

The door of the hut burst open.

"What?!"

"Dion would like us to submit to a mind search."

Considering how unpleasant and painful mind searches are, Tomas' reaction was entirely inappropriate.

"Yes!" he cried, clapping his hands with delight and he flung his arms round me and swung me up into the air laughing.

"Dion, you little honey."

When you search a person's mind their first emotion is usually fear, fear of the pain and of the intrusion. Often too people's minds will leap guiltily to the most embarrassing thing they can think of. I heard a mage once tell a class that it was astonishing how often the first image you received from a searched mind was a picture of yourself with no clothes on. It is caused by the search itself he said and is quite irrelevant. You learn to direct the mind away into more relevant channels so that you can glean the pertinent information out of the great mad mass of images and thoughts that fill a healthy mind.

When I pressed my thumbs to Hamel's temples, closed my eyes and slid my mind into his I was not greeted with any embarrassing pictures, but there was the fear and that usual whirlpool of images. It was easy for me to rise above them. Using magic is very calming. It can be a useful side-effect.

Hamel's mind was a straightforward one. He had a wife and a little son and was full of happy memories and cheerful thoughts over his life with them. Entwined among these memories were others of Tomas and Tasha and an older fair-haired woman with a lovely, loving face. From the warm but confused emotions involved with this image, I knew this must be our mother. I moved quickly away from it. I had no wish to get caught up with her at such a risky moment.

To Hamel a good intention meant the same as a good act. He had no grasp of politic subtlety. That is a major limitation of a mind search. You can not tell how a person will actually act at a given moment, only how they intend to act. It was easy to see that Hamel meant only good to me, that he understood my doubts and that he would strive to do his best to see I came to no harm. I could not really tell how this would translate into action.

It was only at the end of the search that I saw something I did not like. I asked him about Tasha and suddenly I saw the stone woman with glowing red eyes reaching towards me in the darkness. I was loathe to see that vision again. I pulled out of his mind more quickly than I intended and hurt him more than I needed to. As he slumped forward, I quickly pressed a pain relieving spell into his head.

"Ah sister. You really do have a strong touch," he said, squinting up at me though eyes hazy with pain. "That's better. I thought my head was going to explode for a second there."

"I'm sorry to have hurt you," I said. "I can send you to sleep for a time. You'll feel better when you awake."

"Yes," he said. "That will be best."

Leaving Hamel asleep, I turned to Tomas with a feeling of apprehension. I had never doubted Hamel, but I knew I doubted Tomas. Now I would find out the truth.

When I reached out to take his head between my hands, he did not bow down as Hamel had, but caught my hand in his.

"Dion. Before you begin ... I should make a confession. I would be loathe for you to find it out by chance. I feel ... I have much anger in my heart against you."

He took my hand and squeezed it as if to soften the words.

"Your friend, that charming Kitten Avignon, she tried to explain it to me and I tried to understand. Yet I cannot and still I am angry. You have had everything we, Tasha especially, never had. A chance to escape your birth, honors from those who matter ... You have great power Dion. I know how mighty one must be to slay a demon. And yet you are nothing. You live here in this poor little hut. You are nothing but a village healer in the poorest of poor villages. Surely that Duke of yours offered you honors and wealth when you slew that demon."

"Yes," I said. "But ..."

"Our mother wept when she gave you up. Were her tears for nothing?"

I was dumbfounded by his words. There were so many things I could not bring myself to tell him. My first contact with Bedazzer, the demon I had defeated had happened during a foolish Hazia experiment. The contact had marked Bedazzer out for slavery by Norval the necromancer I had been hired to protect Kitten Avignon from. Norval had been able to draw sufficient power to bring Bedazzer, through into this world as a slave where he had masqueraded as Andre, a tall handsome Aramayan Lord. Demons can read you're most secret thoughts and Andre/Bedazzer had made himself into everything that was most attractive to me so that I would leave myself open to betrayal. I did not want anyone to know my guilt in this matter or how I still longed for Andre. I had been a foolish woman driven by emotion and desire. Tomas would despise me as I still despised myself. Yet I must make some attempt to explain myself.

I tried to form words.

"There are things ... Things that happened ... I have power that is true. But you must have more than power to be the great mage in Gallia. You must have the eye for politics. I do not. You must have wisdom, understanding of people. I ..."

"But you have gained nothing. Surely you have a right to be part of the White College of Mages. But you don't even have that."

"Tomas. I'm a woman. There is no place for women to act as mages on the Peninsula. Would the Duke let himself be advised by a woman? Would students let themselves be taught by a woman? I was useless in Gallia as a mage. I am useful here in Cardun as a healer."

"Power is power no matter who wields it Dion. You could have made your sex irrelevant had you the courage to."

He was right there and the knowledge stung a little.

"Tomas ..."

"They look on you as some kind of wonder, the common people of Gallia. They almost worship you. The innocent young girl whose purity and power saved Gallia from a Demon."

Purity, I thought ironically.

"Tomas ..."

"Yet you've even changed you name so that those who would honor you do not even know to do so."

"I was confused. I needed time to think ..."

"About what? Who needs to think about glory and wealth and ... and opportunities? Surely you just take them with open hands. I don't understand. It was a great victory you won and yet you've made it into a defeat."

"It was a defeat."

"How? How? Tell me that?"

"I would if you would just let me speak," I snapped.

He was silent for a moment.

"I want to understand," he said quietly. "Tell me."

"Tomas I ..." I was lost for words again. I didn't want to tell him anything.

"So when you slew the demon," he said gently. "It was a defeat for you? Not a victory? Why?"

I suddenly saw my way clear.

"There would have been no demon to slay had I not through one act of foolishness upon another caused it to be freed in the first place."

He stiffened.

"Did you dabble in necromancy, little sister?"

"Oh no, no. Nothing like that. No these were errors of judgment. I trusted the wrong people. I was irresponsible. I showed myself unworthy to wield great power and that is why I have hidden from it. Do you understand now?"

There was a long silence.

"I think I understand better," said Tomas. "That's not to say I agree, mind you. There are plenty of fools with power in this world. You at least have the wit to know and heal your mistakes."

He smiled at me, ruefully. "Don't look on me so anxiously, sister. We are one blood. That means a lot to me however angry I may be. I will stand by you always from now till my death."

"How can you say that? You hardly know me."

"We are both the bastard children of Marnie Holyhands. The world has little time for bastards. Now she is gone, we have nobody else but each other. Even were you a necromancer still you would have my loyalty. When you look into my mind you will see that for yourself. Come now. You know all that I have to hide. The sooner you do this search the sooner the headache will be past."

I lifted my hands and pressed my thumbs to his temples.

I think part of me hoped that Tomas would be proved to be a villain, I don't know, part of some crazy plot to lure mages in exile back into Moria so that they could be executed by the Burning Light perhaps. But his truthfulness was quite clear and his loyalty to me was, if anything, even stronger than Hamel's, strong because I was a stranger to him and thus needed special care. The only fearful things I saw were his ambition for me which was writ large in his mind and his frustration that I did not share that ambition. And images of the stone woman. She seemed to loom large in all our minds.

Afterwards when Tomas lay asleep, I went outside and sat under a tree at the edge of the forest and tried to think calmly, but our dreams, so similar, of the stone woman kept coming back into my mind and I found myself shivering again. Now I could be sure that my brothers' intentions were honest, I had to seriously face the idea of going into Moria. I was horribly afraid. For a moment I toyed with the idea of waiting for the Gallian Army to come and joining them as they passed. If Tasha was being fed on by the stone woman however and if she was enduring the kinds of tortures necromancers inflicted on their victims, I was amazed she had survived this long. Surely she could not go on much longer. And think of all the others that might be there with her. No. Armies moved slowly and something must be done as soon as possible.

I knew I could not refuse to go with my brothers and keep my self respect. But what about the Witchhunters? What terrible things might I find following Tasha's dreams?

Your fears are not relevant, I told myself sternly. You know the right thing to do. You must simply do your best to do it.

As I sat staring at my home, breathing deeply and trying to still my fear, a magpie flew down into the garden and began waddling importantly about it searching for snails. A family of blue and red honey parrots squabbled raucously over the sweet oil blossoms above me and away in the forest I heard someone cutting wood. I had been so happy here in Cardun. Was I really going to leave it now?

But under all these miserable and confused thoughts I felt another emotion. Excitement. Part of me was actually looking forward to the adventure, to hunting down this necromancer and to being a proper mage again.