Honor Raconteur - Lost Mage (Advent Mage Cycle 06) Read online

  So here I sat on the floor, while they were huddled on one of the beds in our room, steadfastly not looking at me.

  Becca’s mouth formed a pout even as she clutched Tail tighter to her chest. “You said the storm helped.”

  Actually, Aletha had said that…no, don’t correct a woman in a bad mood. That was one of the cardinal sins of the universe. “It did help obscure our tracks,” I agreed. Busted buckets, I’d hoped that an apology and a shiny present would smooth this out, but apparently I would have to talk my way out of this one. “Becca, sweetums, here’s the problem. The priests, you see, have a way of detecting magic when it’s being used.”

  She froze and peeked at me from the sides of her eyes. “They do?”

  “Yup. And they can detect it from very far away. The stronger the magic being used, the easier it is for them to track it.”

  Biting her bottom lip, she asked uncertainly, “How far is very far?”

  “We’re not entirely sure of the range, but over twenty miles.”

  Her eyes went as wide as saucers. “Twenty miles?”

  “Sometimes farther, depending on what tools they’re using,” I explained, glad she was listening and not still pouting. “If they have a big scrying pool, they can see the whole country. If they’re using something else, then the range is a lot smaller.”

  She repeated ‘country’ silently, looking more than a little terrified. “So…so when I called the storm…”

  “You were shone like a beacon on top of a hill. Anyone could have seen you.” I spread my hands helplessly. “I’m not a magician, sweetheart. I don’t have any sealing amulets or spells that would subdue your magic and make it hard to find you. I just didn’t have time to prepare for this journey like I should have. And because of that, the only way I knew of making your magic turn off was to make you fall unconscious. If it comes down to a choice between your safety or having you mad at me, I’d rather you be safe and mad at me.” Giving the cat in her arms a narrow look, I added, “All of which you know, so why are you mad at me?”

  Becca and Tail shared a speaking look, and I swear to you, they were having a telepathic conversation on whether to forgive me or not.

  Thank all gods, saints, angels, and pink elephants, they finally did. I knew they did because Tail squirmed free of Becca’s arms and went promptly to his fish, where he started daintily devouring it. Becca picked up the hair clasp and gave it a proper look. I’d chosen something I thought a little girl would like. It was a metal clasp with flowers and ribbons engraved into it. She lit up into a smile as she held it.

  “Did I do alright choosing this one?” I ventured, although her smile said I had.

  “I’ve never had anything like this.” Her fingers lightly stroked the surface. “Mama always said they were too expensive.”

  Too expensive? It had only cost a silver. Just how poor was her family? “Want to put it on?”

  She nodded eagerly, only to pause. “I need a comb.”

  “Ahhh…” I glanced behind me, to the other bed, where Aletha’s purchases were sprawled. “I think Gorgeous bought one. Help me dig.”

  Becca hopped off the bed willingly enough, but as she did, she asked, “Why do you call her Gorgeous, or Wifey, or Darling? And you call me sweetums, and kiddo, and Tail doesn’t have a proper name either, and neither does Cloud, which I think is weird, don’t you like people’s names, or do you not use them ’cause we’re in a dangerous place and you’re afraid that people will use our names to find us, ’cause now that I think about it, that would be dangerous, and I wouldn’t want people to know my name, ’cause that means they’d know where to find my family, and that would get them in trouble, but you probably thought of that, huh.”

  I stared at her in amazement. How had she managed to say all of that in one breath?! Didn’t this girl need oxygen like everyone else? “Ah, um, well, I hardly ever call someone by their name. In my family, you see, we were only called our full names if we were in trouble or if it was something serious. We always used nicknames.”

  “Ohhhh.” She nodded in understanding. “So it’s not ’cause it’s dangerous?”

  “Well, it would be, because our names down here will tell people where we’re from. But from now on, you’re a Riic, remember.”

  Becca put a solemn hand over her heart. “I will.”

  “And Riics are famous for being in Jarrell, so anyone that tries searching for you by just your name will be going waaaay north and away from your family.” Which was another bonus to me adopting her as my sister.

  A knock came at the door before Aletha stuck her head in. “Since you’re amiably talking, I take it that all is forgiven?”

  I swiped a hand over my forehead and gave an overly dramatic sigh. “It was a close call.”

  Aletha laughed and came all the way into the room. “Hopefully we can avoid having to do any of that again. Now, dinner is being served downstairs. Who’s hungry?”

  We all raised our hands, except Tail, who had a large fish to finish off.

  “Then, Becca, let’s get your hair done, and we’ll get something to eat.”

  “I want to, but I can’t find the comb,” Becca explained.

  “Ahh…it’s in that small pile of bundles somewhere.” Aletha joined her at the bed and started sifting through the bags and boxes. “I bought two, just in case, as I always lose at least one comb while I travel.”

  Huh. Now that was funny. I always packed two whetstones for the same reason. One of them would disappear before the journey’s end. It was like a universal guarantee.

  Aletha found the comb in the next moment and handed it over to Becca, who promptly turned and handed it to me. I took it with a bemused frown. “You want me to do it?”

  “I can’t see the back of my head,” she explained patiently.

  Oh. Right. That would be a challenge.

  For some reason, Aletha looked at the two of us with an odd expression. “Shad, how much do you know about hair?”

  I blinked at her. “It tends to grow in places I don’t want it to and gets tangled in weird things. Why do you ask?”

  Aletha and Becca shared a speaking, very female look. “You’re in for a rough time,” Aletha informed my little girl with a mournful shake of the head.

  “It’s alright,” Becca sighed, resigned. “My head’s tough. I can take it.”

  I cocked my head at them, confused by this whole conversation. “What?”

  Shaking her head, Aletha instructed, “Start from the bottom and work your way up. Otherwise the tangles get worse.”

  Oh. Right, I could do that. But seriously, it was just hair. How hard could it be to draw it all up in one bunch and clip this clasp on straight?

  Loggers, as a whole, were a good-natured bunch. Oh, they were notorious for being rough around the edges, and you certainly didn’t want to pick a fight with them, but they weren’t a bad sort. That was why I didn’t think anything of dining in the main taproom downstairs. Most of the men that worked in these places were family men and not the sort to hassle women and children after all.

  Out of sheer habit, I chose a table that had a ready escape route to the outside and gave me a good visual of the room. Aletha sat on one side of me, Becca on the other. We ordered something hot and filling from the serving girl that came by, sat back, and took the opportunity to unwind a bit.

  Becca’s head swiveled in all directions as she took in the place. As taprooms went, this one wasn’t anything remarkable. Wooden beams in the ceiling, wooden floor covered in more than its share of dust, round tables and chairs clustered tightly together. We must have picked a popular place to stay, as even this late in the evening, the place was packed. We’d grabbed one of the last free tables.

  When loggers got drunk, they progressively got louder, and as the beer made its rounds, the noise level in the room steadily rose. Aletha and I were more or less used to such an atmosphere, as an army barracks was rather similar in atmosphere. Becca, of course was not, and I coul
d see her wince now and again at some of the louder yells. Not to mention the off-key singing.

  I had to raise my voice to be heard over the din as I counseled her, “Ignore it and eat.”

  She nodded, eyes still darting about, but focused on the food as steaming plates of baked rabbit and bread pudding were put in front of us.

  Ohh, the sight of the food made my mouth water. Anything was better than fish jerky at this point. A wide smile on my face, I waited for the girls to serve themselves before loading up a plate of my own.

  I had half the plate consumed when I realized that Becca’s attention had wandered again, this time to the table right beside ours. She had her head cocked, straining to hear what they said. The other table next to us was loud enough to drown out parts of their conversation, and even from just five feet away, I could only hear snatches. What did she find so fascinating?

  Focusing, I put more effort into eavesdropping. Then I realized what they were saying and my eyes nearly crossed. Was that really the sort of thing you talked about in public? I was no stranger to crude words or crass conversations—I’d like to meet a soldier that wasn’t—but still, there were things that you just didn’t talk about in an open room like this. Especially with a child sitting behind you!

  The main culprit had his back to me and was getting progressively louder as he drank. If I were being mature about it, I would have gotten out of my seat and went over to have a quiet word with him.

  Naw, too much trouble.

  Picking up a roll from the bread basket in the center of the table, I took aim and threw it with considerable force at the back of the idiot’s head. He immediately went stiff and turned around so quickly the chair squeaked in protest. His grey eyes narrowed into slits as he growled, “What was that for?”

  “Do you mind watching what you’re saying in front of my little girl?” I growled back, irritated beyond belief I even had to say this.

  He blinked, then his eyes went to Becca, who was staring back at him with those wide blue eyes. It was hard to tell under that swarthy skin color, but I think he reddened a bit. Then he realized Aletha was at my other side, and he really did blush, a faint red over his cheeks. “Missus. Miss. Your pardon.”

  Aletha smiled back at him, all charm. “Thank you for the consideration.”

  He cleared his throat, uncomfortable under her regard, and turned back around although he didn’t re-engage the conversation. The whole table, in fact, became remarkably subdued.

  “Shad?” Becca frowned at me slightly. “Why did you throw the bread at him?”

  “Because he was talking about things that an eight-year-old should not know about,” I answered frankly.

  “But I don’t understand what he was saying.”

  Thank all the gods for small favors.

  When I didn’t respond, she poked me with one finger in the ribs. “What did all that mean, Shad?”

  I looked down at that upturned face, full of childish innocence, and realized that at some point in the future, I’d have to explain what that conversation meant. As well as a few other things. Ye gods, that wasn’t a conversation I was looking forward to one bit.

  Aletha, no doubt reading my expression well enough to guess what I was thinking, started cackling. I shot her a glare, which for some reason set her off even more, and she almost hung off the edge of the table, trying to breathe.

  Some friend she was. There I was, having a crisis on my hands, and what did she do?

  Laugh.

  Alright, naming it a crisis might be stretching things a tad, but the thought of trying to explain the birds-and-the-bees to an innocent little girl made me squirm in my seat. It was likely a mother’s job to explain all of this, but alas, Becca only had me. Which was unfair for her, true, but even more unfair for me.

  It occurred to me that this wouldn’t be the first time for such awkward moments. I’d likely experience this again, many times, as I ran into situations where I’d have to be mother, father, and brother to Becca all at once. How did parents do this, anyway?

  Not getting what she wanted, Becca switched tactics and instead grabbed my arm, tugging insistently. “What did he mean?”

  A parent. This feeling, these thoughts, were they what a parent would feel? I opened my mouth to respond to her but closed it again without uttering a sound. I felt it in that moment. When the Gardener had given me the task of protecting her throughout her life, I had taken it on as a duty, just like I’d had dozens of other duties before this one. I hadn’t thought much of it, aside from what actions I needed to take and what dangers I should shield her from. But a simple bodyguard was not what I was meant to be. It wasn’t what I’d offered to become to Becca, and not what she needed from me.

  For a moment, an insanely clear moment, every fiber of my being understood that from this point on, Becca was my little girl. Not just to protect, but to cherish and guide and to teach. I would replace the father she had lost and forever be the one man that she could always depend on.

  The feeling was liberating and terrifying all at once. Incredible joy had been handed to me, but it came hand in hand with responsibility so heavy I felt it down to my marrow.

  How had it taken me so long to realize all of this?

  Becca tugged at me again, mouth pursed in an impatient pout. “Shad.”

  Here I was, having a moment, and Becca was demanding an explanation of a rowdy logger’s careless remarks. Chuckling softly, I gave my head a rueful shake. “Becca, I’ll explain it when you’re thirty.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re too young to know.”

  She paused and considered that. “You’re not thirty and you know.”

  Aletha, trying to regain control of herself, lost it again. Or at least, she had a hand over her mouth. I wrote off any possibility of getting help from that quarter.

  I matched glares with my adopted sister. “You’re too smart for your own good. Eat.”

  “I want to know what he said,” she insisted.

  “Eat. Or I throw bread at you next.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Promise?”

  That threat did not have the desired effect. I groaned. “Will you just eat?”

  She let out a growl that sounded suspiciously like a sound Tail would make and reluctantly went back to her cooling dinner.

  Sheesh. Kids. I thought guarding a budding Weather Mage had been quite the task, but I think raising a little girl was going to be more of a challenge.

  Fortunately for all concerned, we managed to make it through dinner without any more rowdy conversations being overheard by a certain blonde and made it back to our room without further mishap. Aletha helped Becca into comfortable sleepwear and took out the hair clasp, combing her hair before settling her into bed.

  I watched all my hard work being undone and almost tried for a patented Becca pout. If her hair was only going to be up for a few hours why bother making me fix it in the first place?

  Even though we had a nice inn room to stay in, neither Aletha nor I was in the mood to take chances. We split up the night into two watches, and I generously let her have second watch.

  Alright, fine, more like she gave me the stink eye and I volunteered myself for first watch. I did have some survival instincts.

  The night air had a pleasantly cool, crisp feeling to it. The storm had blown away all traces of heat, and in this mountainous place, it stayed cooler anyway. I found it a nice relief from all the saturating heat we’d been travelling through. In the interest of having the best perch, I swung the window open and clambered up on the roof, sitting on the edge. The inn sat against the mountainside, up above the rest of the town, so I had the perfect vantage point. I let my legs dangle off the side and got comfortable, planning to be here for the next four hours or so.

  Even as I kept my eyes peeled on the mostly deserted streets, my mind thought of other things. This whole task given to me by the Gardeners was…well, strange in a way. Protect someone, that I knew how to do. I had
a lot of experience doing that. Hunt down magicians and get them out of danger before priests could find them, that I could do too. Had done so for nearly two years. But raise a little girl?

  I hadn’t the foggiest.

  By the time I had hit my teens, the Magic War had already gathered momentum. I hadn’t the time, or luxury, to think much about starting a family. Shortly after my twenty-third birthday, I’d been encased in a crystal, and stayed there for two hundred years. And when Garth got me out, well, I went straight into the next mission of rescuing magicians and trying to turn Chahir back into the country that I remembered. I’d been so busy fighting and relearning the world that I’d barely had the luxury of deciding where I’d wanted to live and make a life for myself.

  Now, all of a sudden, I had a little girl to raise and little experience or knowledge of how to go about it.

  I found myself to be profoundly grateful that I had to take Becca to the Isle of Strae. After all, there were people there that would be able to advise me on how to go on with this. Chatta and Garth alone would be very useful. Garth especially. I didn’t know how much experience Chatta had with children, but Garth seemed to collect kids, and they all ended up adoring him after about ten minutes in his company. That had to mean he knew how to handle them.

  Granted, Becca didn’t seem to mind me much, and she certainly came to me first if something went wrong, but that didn’t mean I always knew how to help her. That whole fiasco with me trying to untangle her knotted hair before dinner showed me that. I had a lot to learn in the parenting department.

  Shadows flitting quickly across an intersection caught my attention. I leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing as I focused. One, two…eight? Eight men in hooded cloaks? In this weather? Even late at night, it was hot enough to steam a bun.