To Light A Candle

suppose you know him?”

“Cilarnen… Volpiril?” Kellen asked, stunned. No two living Mageborn bore the same given name, by the custom of the City, and Kellen knew of only one Cilarnen.

“Well, no one knows his family name; he didn’t give one,” Idalia said.

“You do know him!” Vestakia said. “I thought you might! Why else would he be asking for you?”

“I was at school with him.” Hazy memories surfaced, of a time so long ago that the events that occurred then might have happened to someone else. Cilarnen had always been everything Kellen wasn’t—the golden young Mageborn who’d excelled in all his studies and been the Masters’ petted darling. Except for one day, a few sennights before Kellen was Banished, when, for some reason, Master Hendassar had chosen to humiliate Cilarnen in front of the entire History of the City class. “He’s no more a High Mage than—than I am!” Kellen said indignantly.

“But if he is Cilarnen Volpiril, his father’s a member of the High Council, which makes it even odder that he’s here,” Idalia said, her eyes narrowing.

“And traveling with a Wildmage, don’t forget.” Kellen laughed bitterly. “I’d certainly like to know how that came about, considering what the High Mages think of the Wild Magic! But the pampered little Mageborn can certainly wait until we’re sure the caverns are clean. The Shadowed Elves have surprised us enough times already. I want to be sure our backtrail is safe this time.”

And he wasn’t at all averse to having Cilarnen cool his heels. It would do him good to discover he wasn’t the most important creature in this universe.

—«♦»—

KELLEN and Pihrandet rode back to the caverns with their troops. Though no one expected trouble—the caverns were supposed to be empty—both Idalia and Vestakia wore armor; Vestakia, her full suit of scarlet Elven armor, and Idalia, her heavy shirt of Elven chain.

Kellen found himself wishing that Shalkan were here to talk to. The news that Cilarnen had come to Ysterialpoerin—and was claiming to be a High Mage of Armethalieh—had unsettled him more than he’d thought possible. Why in the name of the Gods of the Wild Magic had he come?

Banished? Lord Volpiril would never let that happen.

But then why—?

Resolutely, Kellen forced all questions and speculations from his mind. He had to concentrate on the task ahead.

“Are you all right?” he asked Vestakia as they reached the cavern mouth.

“I don’t feel anything,” she said, her voice light with relief. She swung down off her palfrey—Pihrandet moved to assist her, but her riding skills had improved greatly since the start of the campaign and she dismounted without help—and began to walk toward the cavern mouth.

“Wait,” Kellen said, dismounting from Firareth’s back. He paused to give the stallion a companionable pat, then drew his sword and moved forward. “Don’t get yourself killed for overconfidence.”

The others moved up, and, with Vestakia and Idalia in their midst, moved back into the caverns once more.

They had lanterns with them, of course, but for the first part of the journey, they didn’t need them. Kellen had cast Coldfire on the rocks and walls of the cavern—it had been the surest way to keep the duergar from creeping up on them as they slept—and the walls glowed a faint pale blue. The spell would wear off eventually, but he saw no reason to dismiss it.

They went all the way down to the village cavern, and Vestakia felt nothing.

She looked at Kellen and shook her head. “No. If there were anything here—anything at all, I’d feel it. I’m sure of it.”

Kellen hesitated, but Vestakia and the Crystal Spiders both agreed that the caverns were empty of Tainted creatures, and he had to admit that his hesitation stemmed from the fact that once they went back, he’d have to confront Cilarnen.

But that was his problem, and not a reason to keep everyone else standing around in the cold.

“Let’s go back, then,” he said with a sigh, then smiled. Smiled broadly, in fact. “Good work, Vestakia.”