“I need to return, do you mind if we continue talking at another time?” I asked.
“No need to be polite Mordecai. I am only an echo, turn your attention aside and I practically cease to exist. Call me when you would speak again,” she answered. With a wry smile she sank into the earth and as quickly as she had come, she was gone again.
Dusting the leaves from my trousers I headed back toward the keep, people would be looking for me by now.
Chapter 6
That evening Marc explained his plan to visit the capital to everyone over dinner. Dorian and Penny had been relieved simply to see him attending the evening meals again so the news that he would be traveling was rather disappointing for them. Still we were all glad to know he was beginning to find a new purpose for his life.
Dorian had many a question for him regarding his reason for exploring my father’s library but Rose was strangely quiet throughout the meal, quietly picking at her venison. Considering her usual chattiness I couldn’t help but wonder at her reticence.
“So how long do you think you’ll be gone?” asked Dorian. As he spoke he skillfully cut a large joint of meat from a serving platter before passing it along.
Marc smiled, lighting his features with a warmth that made it seem as if his recent depression couldn’t possibly have been real. “A while my friend, after I finish there I plan to travel a bit… see if I can get access to some of the records kept by the various churches.”
Dorian still wasn’t comfortable with the fact that Marc had rejected his goddess. The Thornbear family had been followers of the Lady of the Evening Star for many generations and despite what both of us had told him he still seemed to feel that the goddess must have some good reason for her refusal to help. Deep down I’m sure he secretly hoped that Marcus would reconcile with Millicenth. “Are you trying to figure out why she did what she did?” he said.
“Partly,” answered Marc. He knew better than to voice his desire for vengeance against the gods. It would only upset Dorian and ruin the meal.
Dorian snorted, “’Partly’ isn’t much of an answer… why don’t you just spit out what you’re thinking?” Sometimes Dorian could be more perceptive than people expected from such a massive man.
Rose interrupted before I could, “Dorian don’t badger him! He’s been through a lot, let him enjoy his food.”
“I wasn’t badgering him,” Dorian groused. “I’m just tired of not hearing what’s on people’s minds.”
Marcus spoke up earnestly, “Look Dorian I’m not trying to shut you out. I just need to get away. This gives me something to do and a reason to travel.” I marveled at how sincere the half-truth sounded coming from my friend.
“When do you plan on going?” Rose asked suddenly.
“Tonight if Mort doesn’t mind teleporting me,” Marc answered immediately.
We had already discussed this earlier so I simply nodded my head in agreement. “Would you mind taking a note to my father for me?” asked Rose. “I haven’t seen him in months and I’m sure he must be worried.”
“Certainly Rose,” Marc agreed quickly.
She thanked him and the rest of our meal went quietly after that. I caught Rose looking at me once or twice but she looked away whenever I caught her staring. Even with my advantage in sensing emotions I had no idea what was on her mind. Rose Hightower was a complex puzzle that I had long ago despaired of understanding. It was clear though that she was curious about something.
After we had finished eating I walked with Marc back to his room to gather his things, and then I accompanied him to the teleportation circle I had set to match the one in my house back in Albamarl. He glanced at me in surprise as I stepped onto it with him. “You don’t have to come with me.”
“Yes I do. I have to tell the house to tolerate your presence. Didn’t I ever tell you what happened to Rose that time she went exploring the library without me?” I said. It turned out that somehow I had neglected to relate that tale to him. Consequently we both got a chuckle as I relived the story with him. The part where the golem had Rose upside down left him in stitches.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about that before,” he remarked as we stepped off the circle in my house in Albamarl.
“I guess I was busy. A lot did happen after all,” I replied. In point of fact the events we were discussing had been only a few months prior, but now looking back it seemed as if years had passed. I went through the house and made sure it would let him enter and exit through the front door in my absence. I also made particular effort to ensure that the golem in the library would allow him to look through the books without interference. “Are you sure you’ll be alright here by yourself?” I asked again for probably the tenth time.
Marc laughed, “I’ll be fine Mort… and if I’m not, you’ll be the first to know.” He emphasized the last part.
“I’ll be back in a few days for my meeting with the king,” I repeated again. “When you go deliver Rose’s note to Lord Hightower don’t let them see your face. Just leave it with the doorman. I’d rather no one knows how easy it is for us to enter and leave the city until after I visit the king.”
“I doubt he’s forgotten your visit to his warehouses already,” said Marc sardonically.
“That’s certain, but he may not realize I still have a means of entering and leaving other than the circle that was in James Lancaster’s storehouse,” I said.
“True enough,” Marc replied. “I’ll keep that in mind. Never fear, no one will know I’ve returned to the city for at least a few weeks.”
After that I said my farewells and returned to Cameron Castle. Penelope was waiting for me when I got back to our rooms. As soon as I entered she looked up, she had been combing out her hair in preparation for bed.
“Already back?” she asked.
I would have thought that was obvious but I decided not to be a smart ass. “Nothing could keep me from your side my dear!” I said chivalrously.
“You say that now. Wait till I get fat… I’m already starting to show,” she announced with a mixture of pride and trepidation.
“Really?” I asked with a healthy interest.
“Look,” she said standing up and smoothing her nightdress. She stood sideways in front of a full length mirror that had been a gift from Genevieve Lancaster. Sure enough there was a distinct protrusion of her belly. There were also more interesting changes.
I stepped up behind her and put one arm around her waist, feeling the modest swelling of her midriff. “That’s not all that’s grown,” I announced as I brought my other hand up to cup her breast in a familiar manner.
“I despair of you ever growing up,” she said with a smile, and then she leaned her head back to engage me in a rather distracting kiss.
Sometime later she nudged me; I had almost fallen asleep in the bed. “Do you think our baby will be happy?” she asked with a note of uncertainty.
I tried to focus my thoughts. I have never been sure why she always wanted to talk ‘afterward’ but I had learned to accept it. Personally I had begun to suspect it was because she knew I was less likely to dissemble and more likely to answer honestly. “I hope so,” I replied, “but the future is never certain. And you should say, ‘our son’,” I added.
“Are you really sure about that? I couldn’t have been more than a month along when you healed me,” she said.
“Is it so hard to believe? I never question your visions,” I told her.
She snorted, “That’s because they’re always right, and you don’t have that gift… how can you be sure?”
“I’m sure,” I answered. “You’re just feeling nervous because you haven’t had any visions to confirm what I said.”
“That’s not true!” she answered self-righteously, “I’m just nervous. If I decorate the nursery for a boy and we have a girl you’re going to be in trouble.” She poked me in the ribs as she said it.
