Of all the things Eydis has hidden down here, like potions that could save this realm and wine that would spoil in the larder, why would she have just one book and not even one by a well-known WordSeed? Bizzare isn’t even the right word for it.
I tilt it in my hand and let the pages split naturally. It opens to the last ribboned bookmark, which is a scribble. One of those things a person draws while thinking. It’s mostly circles and lines with shorthand letters. DS and OS and AS and a crossed-out M. Nothing but nonsense, so I move on to the more important pages.
Most of the book was printed by WordSeeds, but these end pages have been cleared with a Page Wiping Potion then filled with notes in Eydis’ sprawling hand. I pick a random section and pause long enough to skim read it.
Child orphaned. Tried to reach her family in time – died of the mortal flu. Now in the care of the Manor Lord. Being raised by her own kind will be better than bringing her here. Who knows the damage? Bringing her back through the border after whatever the Origin Spring did to put her into stasis has no logical reason for success. I never thought she would come out.
I wish Raefiya was still living to help me navigate this. Leave the child to the suffering of mortals or bring her back into Silva and destroy her mortal soul? Without some kind of a buffer between her and the magic of this place, surely she wouldn’t last ‘til adulthood? Even in my domain. Haryk-Larsan lived outside the border for a reason – a man that powerful could never find peace otherwise… but the girl isn’t just mortal. I will have to sleep on it…
~ Eydis.
My knowledge of Kitten twists and bends to try and accommodate this new information. Haryk-Larsan is a person. About being powerful. I find myself frozen, trying to process it, failing, and finally shaking it off with a rush of shivers over my entire being, to explore when I don’t have an audience.
I skip a few pages.
She is fed but has clearly lost weight. The Manor Lord keeps a firm hand on his staff, but they are, after all, his staff. She is punished more brutally than a child should be, but how am I to know if this wasn’t Raefiya’s wishes all along? I have decided to employ tradesmen and build a new cottage with a direct line of sight to the Manor. It will take time, but in the end, it will be closer to the Origin Spring and more convenient anyway.
There are more – pages and pages of dates and details. But my stomach turns at the idea of reading about Kitten’s life, like I’m reading her journal.
I flick to the table of contents – where the title hasn’t been rubbed off. Proper Maintenance of your Mortal. Eydis did, however, put a line through it, followed by the word ‘poppycock.’
Eydis has books upstairs on every aspect of mortals, but this one she’s kept hidden. Either because the information in here is precious, or because it was less reliable and so didn’t require being within arm’s reach. Or both. The contents are a quick list of useful subjects – hair, rest, food – making the whole thing a conundrum.
“What’s taking so long?” Killian grumbles.
I slip the book closed and shimmy backwards until I’m under the open hole, collecting just one vial of Eydis’ stash of potions as I go. I don’t bother climbing out yet, just pass the vial up to Killian, who passes it to Pax, and nearby, Seth cranes his neck to get a good look. Kitten’s up off the ground and leaning in beside Seth. I hold the vial of Soul Elixir up for them to see.
“It destroys souls?” Pax hedges. Not quite guessing the label right, but close enough that everyone makes the connection – well, everyone but Kitten.
“So can it?” Pax asks.
I nod. “I think so.”
“Can it what?” both Kitten and Seth ask in unison.
Pax ignores them. “How many?”
“Three thousand.”
“Three thousand what?” Seth and Kitten ask.
They look at each other and laugh.
Killian glares at them, and Kitten clears her throat loudly. “Sorry.”
“What’s gotten into you two?”
I’m pretty sure we’re all thinking the same thing. She’s in wet pants and wearing two shirts. Seth’s pants are also wet, and sections of his shirt have been splashed. Evidently, they had a water fight, but it hasn’t gotten the Chaos out of their systems.
“It was his fault,” Kitten says, pointing at Seth and taking a big step backwards.
Seth shrugs. “Any time, Vexy.”
“What?” Pax demands, stepping up to Seth.
Seth’s smile could catch flies as his muscles coil, ready to run, and his mouth opens. “She used my Chaos.”
He’s ready to duck and dash, but the rest of us are caught in a moment of stupor. I’m waist deep in a hole underneath the cobweb-covered floor of a deceased Master’s cottage with both the best discovery of the decade – boxes and boxes of potions with huge potential – and a brand new puzzle – this book on mortals. I break free of my shock, launch myself out of the hole, and snap time to be in front of her instantly. My hands cup her face, looking in each of her eyes, even pulling at the lids with my thumbs.
“Did it hurt?” I ask.
She wraps her hands around my wrists, one gripping firmer than the other, before answering, “A little.”
“Are you hurting now?”
“Don’t listen to her, she can’t count,” Seth says, still keeping a safe distance.
“What’s counting got to do with it?” Pax demands.
“On a
