Freeing the Mage

D. J. McNulty

Summer 2004

Shorehaven

~327 ADS

My Dearest Papa,

 

Warmest regards to Mama too. It is strange to be writing to you both in the same letter, I hope that your reconciliation goes well, and that you haven’t managed to kill each other and leave me an orphan. I was met with more than slight disappointment when I finally made it home to Shorehaven, not only because it is nothing like the home I knew, but because once again I arrived too late to see you both. Queen Grellia sends her love, and bids you both return quickly. Much as I enjoyed my brief visit with her, and my winter with Uncle Tide at Wyn Eryi, it is you that I really had looked forward to seeing again.

By the time you get this, you may have discovered for yourself that the Gates are partially working again. If you have not, please be warned, the paths are… different. Darker, if that is possible, for a place entirely constructed of shadow. If you must travel the Shadowlands, be careful, be quick, and do nothing to attract undue attention.

That said, I thought to tell you of my journey home, and what has come of it thus far. Before my companions and I leave on the morrow, I shall entrust this letter to Buehrye.

I arrived at Wyn Eryi about a week after you’d left, and before I could set off after you, as typically happens, we were snowed in. I passed the winter there. I admit now, Papa, that you were right all these years about Uncle Tide, he really can be quite charming and funny when not under the influence of… well, let’s not bring all that up; you were right. I see now why he’s your dearest friend, and deserving of your loyalty, and of Wispen’s love. I apologize for doubting you both all these years.

Another good thing came out of my visit; Pendar and I found a way to communicate with Makei, the mage that went and bound himself to Shorehaven’s courier. Simple and brief, only yes and no questions, but it works.

This is why I’m now in Shorehaven, in an attempt to free this unfortunate mage that is as stuck with me as I am with him. Don’t worry I haven’t traveled alone. I’m in good company – well-armed and alert company. After learning all I could at Wyn Eryi, and with a few scrolls and books in my pack, I returned to E’atara, where I’ve been making my way tending bar and waiting tables at an inn. Don’t frown Papa. I know you’re frowning. But it’s far better than mucking out stalls, which is how I spent last spring and summer. Uncle Tide has gifted me with a generous sum with which to start a business, so long as I don’t go to sea. He is quite adamant about my not going to sea and will not say why, although a strange look passed betwixt he and Wispen when he told me this. If it has something to do with a vision of hers, I do not want to know. Now Papa, if you’ve finished your pout, continue reading.

It has taken me a while, but with Makei’s help, I pieced together his original binding spell. There is a Mage amongst my newfound friends, named Areanna, who offered to assist me by working the spell to release Makei. It is because of this that I now sit here in the partially reconstructed hall at Shorehaven along with my companions from E’atara.

“What are you writing, Rinka?” The voice against her ear tickled, and the courier chuckled as Lorelei slid onto the bench beside her, crowding close and peering at the parchment.

“A letter to my father. Well to both my parents, really, I’m sure he’ll let Mama read it too.” Rinka sighed and reread what she’d written thus far. “The trouble is, there is too much I want to tell them, and not enough time or parchment to do it. Why couldn’t they just be where I need them to be, just once, when I need them to be there?” She dropped her forehead onto the table with a groan, and crossed her arms over her head. Lorelei made a sympathetic sound and patted Rinka’s back.

“Still struggling with that letter?”

Without looking up from her wallow in self-pity, Rinka’s reply came out as a muffled “Grrmmppphhh.” The table shook slightly as Starshadow dropped down onto the bench across from them. A serving girl approached the trio and offered a tray of wine, fruit and cheese. Starshadow grinned, nodded and tucked into the fruit. The girl gave a quick curtsey and said quickly before running off, “With the Queen’s compliments.”

“Mmmmm, wine!” Lorelei said, reaching for the bottle. Rinka’s head snapped up, her eyes going suspiciously to the bottle. Upon seeing it was ordinary wine, local to Shorehaven, and quite safe for fairy consumption, Rinka dropped her chin back onto her folded hands and resumed her brooding.

“It’s not so much what I tell them, it’s what I don’t tell them. There’s only so much a letter can convey. How do I tell my mother what’s happened?”

Starshadow’s eyes were mischievous as he offered, “Mom, you’ve been overthrown, your people are revolting and you’re being kicked out of your home?”

“You’re a big help. Here, have some more grapes.” Rinka pushed the fruit tray closer to her friend and glanced around the hall. “Where’d the others get to?” She wondered aloud.

“Bart is in his glory out in the gardens, helping them plan the new grove,” Lorelei replied.

“What new grove?” Rinka asked, confused.

“The one he suggested they needed to plant.” Starshadow said.

Shaking her head and smirking, Rinka said, “Ah. I see.”

“What happened to all the other trees?” Lorelei asked.

“They went down in the storm that knocked down the old palace. A really big wave of water, they called it a tsunami. Destroyed most of the grounds, actually. I suppose Bart found enough remnants of the old tree folk magic around that it warranted replanting.”

“Oh,” Lorelei commented. “I saw Fiona leave a while ago with a strange little man with fuzzy white hair and a really big nose. He was telling her that no one believed him that he knew another way to the old wine cellar.”

“They tried to dig it out, but the architects said the cellars collapsed after the storm, along with the rest of the place. But, the mere possibility of an entire stockroom of wines surviving the devastation?” Rinka asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Buried treasure.” Lorelei smiled over the rim of her goblet.

With a nod, Starshadow predicted, “If there’s a way into it, Fiona will find it.”

“What about Springmeadow?” Rinka asked, picking up her quill again and glaring at the unfinished letter before her. “Is she with Bart?”

“Maybe. She’s been awfully quiet since Last Wood,” Lorelei answered.

“Quieter than usual. Maybe someone should check on her. Starshadow? You know her best.”

The King of Crystalmyst nodded, scooped up another sprig of grapes, and slid off the bench, heading off in search of his clan sister.

“I still don’t know what to tell my parents.” Rinka shook her head and chewed her lip as she thought back over the trip to Shorehaven.

Days Earlier…

“Does this match the drawing?” A leaf fluttered before Rinka’s eyes, held aloft by a hovering fairy. The former courier reached for the leaf with two fingers, carefully taking it so as not to throw off Lorelei’s equilibrium. The fairy had taken to switching between her “big” self and her “small” self during their search. Rinka reached for the folded parchment in her belt pouch to compare the specimen to the sketch Sabine had made of the required spell component. The gentle elfess had been unable to join them on the journey, as her presence was required in Snowdrop, but she had quickly drawn the sketch for Rinka before she had left.

“It’s close, very close. Ask Bart if it’s the right color.” Rinka held it up and Lorelei had snatched it and was off a moment later in search of the Druid.

Rinka twisted around in the saddle to smile at Fiona, “You have to admit, its been handy having her along.”

Fiona gave a non-committal grunt then shouted up at the trees above them, “Do you see it? Are we almost there yet?”

There was no immediate answer to her question, but a few moments later, there was a flash of green as Starshadow dropped to the ground beside them. “Not far, I saw the stone arch Rinka described over that way. He waved a hand to indicate the direction. He patted the neck of his horse and reclaimed his reins from Springmeadow.

They heard humming, and turned to see Brother Bart and Lorelei emerging from the trees nearby. “Success!” Bart called, waving the leaf Lorelei had found. Lorelei waved a branch of more of the leaves. Extras in case they lost one.

Rinka gave a sigh of relief; the most difficult component to find was in hand. Now all they had to do was collect a handful of soil from Last Wood and from Shorehaven, and they could return home to E’atara.

Starshadow rolled his eyes as Bart joined them. Bart was garbed in his ‘traveling clothes’ and looked more like the rogue he was reputed to have once been than the gentle druid Rinka had come to know. “You’re making a lot of noise, Bart,” Starshadow remarked.

“Oh, it’s safe here. These are friendly woods,” Bart replied cheerily, remounting his borrowed horse. Bart had been disappointed that he hadn’t time to return to Toolibrie to collect his mule, Patience, before they had set off to Shorehaven. Fiona, Springmeadow, and Starshadow all shook their heads as Bart nudged his horse forward and moved off down the path they’d been following. Lorelei, who was more comfortable traveling in her “big” form, leapt up into her saddle and set off after Bart.

“I don’t know how he knew, but he’s right. These woods were once the homeland of the Moonrise clan. It’s hallowed ground to them now,” Rinka mused.

“To them, but not necessarily to others,” Fiona grunted and followed Bart.

It didn’t take them long to get to the Gate arch. A simple construct of stones set in post and lintel on a raised stone platform. It’s opening was wide enough to allow passage of a single horse and rider.

Rinka slid from the saddle and approached the Gate with trepidation. The Gates had not been working since just after the cataclysm, according to her friends at Wyn Eryi. This detour to try the Gate had been a gamble. The extra day of travel to get back to the main road seemed worth the risk, however, if they could cut a week off their journey to Last Wood by utilizing the Shadowland road, if it worked.

“How does this function?” Springmeadow asked, falling in step beside Rinka. They climbed up onto the platform and went to the arch. The others watched and waited expectantly.

“The realms are linked by a series of Gates similar to this one. Once opened, they allow access to a series of paths through a nether realm that is called the Shadowlands. The paths are quite short to cross, a journey of days is cut to minutes,” Rinka explained, circling the Gate and searching for the rune carved into it that would tell her where to begin the spell.

“A wondrous thing!” Lorelei exclaimed, nudging her horse forward to the edge of the platform.

“There is a trade off.” Rinka said, as her fingers moved over the carving in the stone. “The Shadowlands are inhabited by beings of darkness, that feed on the light.”

“So, we run,” Starshadow remarked.

Nodding, Rinka said, “We’ve always run. The paths are short, and those who have been taught the opening spells have also been shown the markers to follow to where they want to go. There are many, many unexplored paths, but few are tempted to try to explore them. Those that are rarely return.”

“You know the opening spell?” Springmeadow asked, her dark eyes showing the concern they must all be feeling.

“Yes.” Rinka nodded. “I can run the known paths. Part of my duties as courier.” She turned her attention to the arch and began weaving the short spell that would activate the Gate. There was no sense in further worrying her companions if the Gate wouldn’t even open.

To her surprise, the archway flared into life, glowing in a rainbow of colors. She kept her hand on the stone, keeping the spell alive and the Gate open. “Well, it works!” She called to her friends. “Last chance, anyone NOT want to try the shortcut, speak now, and we’ll take the long way around.” When no one answered, Rinka nodded and pointed with her free hand at the glow. “It’s just light, it’s safe. Go on through and wait just beyond the archway until everyone gets through. Fiona, can you lead my horse, so we don’t waste time?” The dark-haired woman nodded, grabbed up Rinka’s reins and boldly passed through the light of the arch. Rinka couldn’t help but wonder if it was part of Fiona’s dwarfen heritage that gave her such resolve and strength, and if so, perhaps she too had some untapped well of it somewhere deep inside. That bore investigating.

“Its very dark, but your eyes will adjust in time,” she told them all as they eyed the archway with varying degrees of concern. “Bart, you should follow as closely as you can to Springmeadow.” Not wanting to insult her friend, she didn’t add that fae eyesight would adjust more quickly and compensate much more than his human vision to the darkness.

When the others had all gone through the Gate, Rinka took a deep breath to calm her anxiety and slipped through, following Lorelei’s horse. As the chill of the Shadowlands hit her, she realized it had been a long time since she’d done this. Pushing all thoughts but the task at hand aside, she brushed past her companions and took her reins from Fiona. “Thanks,” she whispered. Fiona nodded, pulling her ax from her belt and holding it ready. Rinka heard the singing of other blades behind her as her companions drew their weapons. If it gave them comfort in the unfamiliar surroundings, Rinka saw no reason to dissuade them from keeping a grip on their steel, though most of what dwelt here was immune to solid weapons.

The markers were easy to find, and they made it past the first two with no sign of the denizens of the dark making an appearance. But when they reached the fork where the third marker should be, the one identifying the path that led to Last Wood, there was nothing. “It’s shifted,” Rinka said to herself, slowing her horse for the first time since they’d entered the darkness. “Dammit to all the hells, it’s shifted.” There was no time to wonder at the cause, the reason or the motive behind the change. Their time was waning; they had to reach a Gate before they attracted notice, for the beings of the Shadowlands were like a swarm, once they caught a scent.

“This way,” Rinka called, choosing an unmarked path. Ordinarily, this would have been sheer folly, but Rinka could see a dim light in the distance on this path that marked a Gate. They could exit there, reweave the spell and enter from a different path to find the right way to Last Wood. They made it to the Gate a few moments later, and Rinka threw herself at the archway to open it and let her friends rush past.

When she emerged, blinking at the comparatively bright light, she was shocked to see that her friends had been dragged from their horses and were now struggling in the hands of dwarven captors. It took four dwarves to hold Starshadow and Fiona, who had been taken by surprise upon exiting the Shadowlands. The ambush had been so sudden that Starshadow had not had time to act upon the warning glow of his elfstone. Springmeadow and Bart had been lassoed and tied before they’d even been able to dismount. Lorelei, luckily, had shifted to her tiny form, and hidden herself in the scarf Springmeadow had woven around her head, thereby escaping being squished by any overzealous ambushers, and putting herself in a position to help her friends later if necessary. The dwarf that had been chasing the fairy had been called off to help hold down Fiona, and so Lorelei’s absence was not noticed by the dwarves.

“Oh, wonderful,” Rinka said to herself as she felt hands clamp down on her arms. They’d come out in the Duergens, just where they didn’t want to be, the dwarf homeland. The Duergens Gate was underground, a mere hole in the wall of the dwarven tunnels. She didn’t struggle, allowing herself to be led after the others. “Diplomatic immunity,” she declared to the two dwarves holding her. “I am the emissary of Grellia of Shorehaven. I will speak with your leader.”

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Rinka said as she was pushed into a cave with the others. “It’ll be expensive though; they love ransoms, easy money.”

“Then, why declare us a target?” Starshadow demanded as he wriggled loose of the ropes holding him.

“Because the alternative is being chucked into the mines,” Rinka replied, going to Bart’s side and unknotting his bonds. Soon they were all untied, just in time to be escorted to another chamber, where several pompous looking dwarves sat on a raised platform.

“So, what has Grellia got to say to us that’s so important that she’d send another party of messengers? Or perhaps you brought the ransom for the hostage?” The leering dwarf at the center of the platform asked.

Another party? Completely confused for a moment, Rinka thought furiously over what her uncle and friends at Wyn Eryi had told her had happened in her absence, but could not figure out who or what the dwarf was talking about. But if they were holding a hostage that was one of Grellia’s people, it was her duty to do what she could to free him or her… or it. She moved forward to address the speaker. “Oh, we are here for the hostage,” she answered. “But first, I need proof that you have in no way harmed one of Grellia’s subjects, otherwise, we will not pay.” Stalling tactic. She hoped her friends were masking their own confusion and would play along.

“Exactly, we won’t pay for damaged goods,” Starshadow said, leaning down to whisper in Rinka’s ear. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” He knew as well as Rinka did that they didn’t have anything to pay a ransom with. They waited quietly as orders were given for the hostage to be brought forward.

A ragged elf was dragged into the chamber a few minutes later. She was covered with dirt, head to foot, and her clothes were rags, but Rinka recognized her instantly. “Buehrye,” she whispered, barely schooling her features to cover her surprise, after all, she was feigning a mission from Grellia, she ought to know whom it was she was supposed to be ransoming. She moved towards the elfess.

“Buehrye, are you well?” she called out to Last Wood’s healer, when two dwarves blocked her way.

Buehrye nodded wearily, though she hadn’t looked their way. With that, she was dragged away again.

Anger boiled to the surface at the treatment of Buehrye, but Rinka tamped it down. The dwarf that had spoken earlier asked, “Did you bring the gemstones we requested?”

“We brought you something better than jewels,” Fiona said, stepping forward. Rinka dropped back, if Fiona had an idea, best to let her run with it, since she herself had nothing at the moment. Her badge of office only did so much, after all.

The dwarf gave a sneer and looked Fiona up and down before asking, “And what could be better than what we wanted, since that is what we asked for?”

“What need have dwarves for someone else’s gems? Surely you can mine what you need yourself?” Fiona asked, not intimidated in the slightest. Her long hair swished across her back as she stalked closer to the platform.

“The gems we requested are long since gone from our lands, only to be found in the treasuries now. And therein lies the power of them, to forge an indestructible and powerful weapon.”

“Oh, is that all you wanted?” Fiona stood back, her stance and tone completely casual. “I can do that.” She waved her hand and feigned a yawn.

“Truly?” Another dwarf leaned forward.

“If I wanted to,” Fiona said, examining her fingernails.

“What’s to keep us from keeping you here to forge enough to arm us all?” another dwarf leaned forward and asked.

All indolence gone, Fiona smiled sweetly at the dwarven leader and replied in a smooth, icy tone “I can ensure that you never have the services of a Steelsinger again, nor any access to sung weapons for as long as your clan exists.”

The dwarf tried to look unconcerned, but she could see that the threat had hit home. Whispers and murmurs could be heard at the mention of Steelsingers. The elusive guild that forged the wondrous weapons was legendary, even deep in the Duergens. The opportunity to own a weapon forged by one of their number was irresistible, and nearly priceless.

“One weapon of great power that’s indestructible, in exchange for the release of all your captives from Shorehaven,” Fiona stated.

“We’ve only the one scrawny elf girl, and you lot, but done. Make it a mace, I’ve a fondness for a good mace,” the dwarf replied.

With a terse nod, Fiona agreed, a plan already forming in her mind as to how to pay the dwarves back for their mischief. “Show me to the forge, and call your best smith.” The dwarves scrambled to obey, and soon Fiona was escorted away through tunnels to the forge, Starshadow close behind to watch over his clan sister and ensure she returned, and the dwarf ruler eagerly rubbing his hands in anticipation of greatness as he trailed in their wake.

“And we’ll see to the elfin lass,” Bart said to the dwarves remaining in the audience chamber. He waved in the direction Buehrye had been dragged for effect. After some hushed discussion, the dwarves shrugged and agreed that there was no harm in allowing it. Bart, Rinka and Springmeadow, with the still hidden Lorelei safely perched on her headdress, were taken to a chamber where they did their best to sooth and comfort the distraught healer captive while they waited for Fiona to work her mysterious magic.

One beautifully rendered spell-song later, the travelers from E’atara were once more standing before a Gate, their number increased by one weary blond elfin woman who was riding behind Springmeadow, clinging weakly to her waist. The dwarves were too busy examining their new magic mace to even notice their leaving. Dismissed with a few waves, the party from E’atara had reclaimed their horses, mounted quickly and retraced their path to the Gate.

Rinka quickly activated the archway, and they dashed through, luckily finding no more missing markers and the path to Last Wood clear. They emerged into welcome sunshine and trees.

“Fiona, was it really a good idea to give them such a powerful weapon?” Bart asked.

She shrugged. “It will only work for the one leader, and he wasn’t specific as to what its power should be.” She gave a wicked smirk that caused a few raised eyebrows.

“Fiona, what did you do?” Springmeadow asked, suspecting her clan sister had not responded well to the threat presented by their former captors.

“It’s indestructible, as he requested, and also powerful. But the power of the weapon is in making the wielder increasingly stupid and possessive as time goes on. By the time the spell is done working on him, he’ll be little smarter than a toddler, and no one will be able to wrest that weapon away from him, short of chopping his hands off to get it.”

“Are you sure you’re not part djinn too, Fiona?” Rinka asked, and was rewarded with a smirk from her friend.

“Steelsingers don’t like working under duress,” Fiona stated simply, and said no more on the subject.

They’d emerged through the southern Gate at Last Wood and were at the river bridge within an hour. Buehrye had switched to ride with Rinka, filling her in on the events that led to her being held captive in the Duergens. Last Wood’s healer was exhausted, drained of all her energies and worried about the fate of her own traveling companions, who had not returned to free her.

“Hold right there! Not a step further.” An armed elf appeared on the bridge that marked the edge of Last Wood. They needed to be on the other side to collect the handful of soil required for Areanna to work the mage-freeing spell. The elf with the bow trained on them was now between them and Last Wood.

Her companions had their weapons drawn, but Rinka knew they’d only use them if necessary. She slid from her saddle and approached the bridge, with Buehrye close behind. Lorelei fluttered across the bridge, but stopped when a voice called out, “That goes for the fairy too.” Half a dozen more armed guardians stepped from the trees. Lorelei drifted back to the safety of Starshadow’s side where she stood, arms crossed, glaring at the elf that had aimed his bow at her.

“Well, you’ve certainly stepped up security on the bridge,” Rinka remarked casually.

“A necessary precaution to protect our home from the taint of outsiders,” the guard replied, lowering his bow, now that others on the riverside had his back.

“I’m no outsider!” Buehrye cried, shoving past Rinka and running forward onto the bridge.

“By decree of the council, you are,” he said coldly. “You, Buehrye, are a magic user, and no longer welcome in Last Wood.”

“But I’m your healer!” Buehrye sputtered, taking a few steps back at the venom she saw in the eyes of one she’d known well and once considered clan. Rinka caught her by the shoulders and gently drew her back, passing her off to Springmeadow, who consoled Buehrye as she burst into tears.

Though she hated to do it, she resorted to using her mother’s influence in an attempt to resolve the matter. “Kei won’t stand for this. The council goes too far. What will you do without a healer?” Rinka demanded. She’d been through this herself already, and was not as distraught as Buehrye at the banishment.

The guard sneered at Rinka’s words. “If Kei had been where she was supposed to, events wouldn’t have happened as they did. The council stands. Kei is gone. And we won’t tolerate the stench of magic any longer.”

“Kei will be back, then you’ll answe–”Rinka started to say before he cut her off with a curt hand motion.

“And she’ll be met at the border. Your mother and her kind will no longer be tolerated in Last Wood.”

“This is pointless!” Rinka spat and spun on her heal to return to her horse. She boosted Buehrye up into the saddle, and led the horse over to where Starshadow waited and whispered up at him, “How many guards?”

“Nine,” he replied. “Six on the shore, the one on the bridge, and two more in the woods.”

With a nod, Rinka reached up to gently pull his bow down, then said to her companions who had gathered close, “I don’t want to hurt them, they are my mother’s people, after all, no matter how misguided and stubborn they can be. We’ll find another way across.” Her shoulders drooped as she admitted defeat; she couldn’t even get through the door of the place where she was born.

As Rinka was pulling herself up into the saddle, she heard the unmistakable sound of an arrow whizzing past her. She turned to follow its progress, and saw Springmeadow throw herself to the ground, barely avoiding the arrow that buried itself in the tree behind her.

Springmeadow threw out both her hands and, surprisingly, gave a wide yawn. A moment later, the elves on the far side of the bridge dropped silently to the ground. Without waiting to question their good fortune, or what Springmeadow had just done, Rinka raced across the bridge, followed closely by Brother Bart and the still fuming Lorelei. Fiona raced to Springmeadow’s side, helping her clan sister to her feet, while Starshadow had his bow out and ready, his eyes everywhere at once watching over his companions.

Once on the other side of the bridge, Rinka pulled out an empty pouch, and bent to scoop a handful of soil into it. Once done, she tied the pouch to her belt and followed Bart to where he was examining the fallen elves.

“Sleeping,” he said, as she reached his side.

“Bad,” Lorelei said, as she circled the area, moving near the trees. “Bad feeling here.”

“Bad feelings abound in Last Wood, my friend. It’s been that way for a long time,” Rinka replied, sadly looking around at her childhood home.

Bart had moved to the trees, slowly pacing, reaching out to touch a trunk now and then, shaking his head and muttering as he came back to them. “She is correct, there is darkness here; something not right, seeping into the trees themselves.”

Rinka’s head came up sharply at something in Bart’s words. “Darkness? Oh, no, the stupid fools… they wouldn’t have? Dreamer wouldn’t have let them, she knows better.” She took a few steps in the direction of the settlement before coming to her senses.

“Who is Dreamer?” Bart asked, grabbing Rinka’s arm as she passed by him to keep her from dashing into the woods.

“My sister. She should be here, at the settlement.” With her words came a realization. This was not her fight, not her place. She could not interfere. If the residents of Last Wood had done something to the Beacon Tree, it was on their own heads. It was Kei and Dreamer’s fight now.

With a sigh, Rinka patted Bart’s hand and steeled her back. “We can’t do anything to help this situation now. We’ll pass the word on at Shorehaven, perhaps people who are in a position to make things right here can do so.” It was one of the hardest things she’d had to do in a long time, turning her back on her home and leaving Last Wood again. But leaving was growing easier.

As was the Gate crossing; they had no trouble at all in reaching Shorehaven, and the greeting they received there was quite a relief. They were ushered up the path and through the walls to guest quarters. Even Springmeadow, who was usually uncomfortable in a courtly setting, had to admit that it was a welcomed relief to be pampered instead of wary of attack. Soon they were all cleaned up, rested, fed and relaxed, and set off exploring Shorehaven’s castle, which was still in the process of being rebuilt. With their typical ease, Rinka’s Falo friends easily made themselves welcome, and she had no worries for their safety or well being while visiting. She decided to go down to the water, to think on matters. She was quite put out that her parents were not at the palace, where she had thought to find them.

Once on the beach, she stripped off her boots and buried her toes in the warm sand. It was still too chilly for a swim, but the sand felt good. She lost herself in thought, pondering the mess of Last Wood’s politics interspaced with childish annoyance at her parents for not being where she wanted them to be. She was startled when a hand dropped lightly on her head.

“Half a day home and you have yet to come and see us,” Grellia’s lilting voice said near Rinka’s ear as she dropped beside her.

Rinka hugged her queen, who’d been almost a surrogate mother and always a friend to her. “I was coming, I wanted to get over my snit first.”

“Place the blame here, it was Our command that sent them on their current task. They should return soon,” Grellia said. “We wish to thank your companions properly for the release of Buehrye.”

“Can you drop the royal talk? Please Grell, it makes my head spin,” Rinka complained with a smile.

“Fine. Mess with my affectations. But for you, I will. There’s a dinner tonight in honor of your friends. At least now I know Ansalan and Buehrye reached the Duergens, though they appear to have failed their mission. I’m sending another emissary.”

Rinka nodded, looking out at the waves. “You’ve made good progress with the reconstruction.”

Fiddling with a blonde curl, Grellia replied, “Slow but steady. Are you ready to come home yet?”

“I don’t think so. You’ve no real need of me yet anyway, Grellia, your court is a shambles.” Rinka tossed a stone into the waves.

“Is this a resignation?” Grellia urged quietly.

“No, definitely not. If I resign, then by his own spell, Makei gets bound to someone else, someone who might not be willing, or able to free him,” Rinka said in a rush.

Grellia nodded and patted Rinka’s arm. “It’s all about the Mage then?”

“For now, it’s what I have to do. I don’t know what comes after. Grellia, I don’t know if I want to come back, not yet. There’s so much else to see out there. When I was courier, carrying out my duties, I spent so much time concentrating on destinations, that I missed enjoying my journeys. Now, in a whole new place, E’atara… it’s just different.” Rinka finished on a shrug.

“So you came home to free yourself of the mage.” Grellia observed.

Rinka scrunched up her nose. “You make it sound self-serving, Grell. He’s trapped, and I just feel the need to help him be freed to move on. Pendar and I reconstructed the spell, and we’re collecting the pieces to undo it.”

“Tell me the spell,” Grellia said.

Rinka cleared her throat and recited the words she and Pendar had slowly reconstructed with the help of Makei, who was able to correct them word by word when they had gone wrong.

By the sand of the shore, by the touch of the woods

Forget all once known, to hide all from view

Return to the court of Shorehaven, return to the woods last standing

Bound to the bearer of words, until a child of both brings an ending.

“Well, here.” Grellia pulled on Rinka’s hand and turned it palm-side up. “The sand of Shorehaven.” She poured a handful of sand into Rinka’s palm, then folded her fingers closed around it, kissing Rinka’s forehead. “Go free your mage, then think about deciding what path you’ll take.” She stood gracefully and walked up the beach, leaving Rinka alone with her thoughts.

A few days later, the travelers from E’atara were gathered on the steps of Shorehaven’s palace, making their goodbyes to their hosts. Rinka hugged Buehrye, who was remaining there to wait for Kei. “Give this letter to Taim when they get back, would you? And tell them how upset I was that I missed them,” she said, passing the letter for her father to Buehrye, who nodded. “And this one is to Dreamer.” She handed the letter she’d composed for her sister to the healer as well.

From the corner of her eye, Rinka saw Grellia approach Starshadow and bend her head close to speak to him, but she didn’t hear what was said. She saw Starshadow nod in reply, but Lorelei tapped Rinka’s shoulder at that moment and drew her attention away, and she didn’t see Grellia slip something to Crystalmyst’s king.

“You did get the soil we came here for, right?” Lorelei asked.

Patting the pouch at her hip, Rinka nodded.

“Good, I’m ready to go. The wine here isn’t very good,” the fairy said, pulling a face.

“Some of it’s not half bad,” Fiona said as she passed by them and overheard Lorelei’s comment. Rinka heard the telltale clinking of bottles in Fiona’s pack.

Rinka giggled to herself, suspecting that Fiona had indeed located the “real” wine cellar.

Grellia cleared her throat and held her hand out for a dutiful and proper kiss. Rinka had made her goodbyes to Grellia in private, for a hug would have been unseemly on the steps of the palace, after all. With a smile, Rinka bowed properly and kissed the Queen’s hand. “Fare thee well, Rinka Tur. Return as soon as you are able, you are always welcome in Shorehaven.” If Rinka thought the Queen’s goodbye odd, this was neither the time nor place to remark on it. So she simply nodded.

“Ready to brave the Shadowlands one more time, my friends?” Rinka asked, jogging down the steps to her waiting horse. After settling into the saddle and looking around one last time at the place that had once been her home, she smiled her thanks to the groom and nudged the horse forward.

With all three components in hand to free the mage, and a duplicate set tucked into each of the traveler’s pouches… just in case… they set off for home.

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