Curses! Part 6 (Chapter Seven)

Though the golden afternoons of Jigsaw autumns seem to linger long past their welcome, light seeming to saturate everything in a yearning, residual manner even after the evening shadows have set in, they also tend to be mild, especially in the northern parts of the kingdom. On the northeastern peninsula in particular, those plants resilient enough to handle the harsh winds are blessed with a long growing season and a sudden, short harvest season which spawns the local idiom describing the arrival of the month of Auvember as the sudden assassination of summer by the brief fall, after which the winter tends to blow in suddenly shortly after Thisember begins, as on the wings of a gray beast overtaking the skies.
However, Wasober had just barely arrived, and so there was yet a little time to enjoy the warmth without the pressure of the final harvest of the year.
“This gardening,” Shard spoke as they made their way to Gelding on Mittens’ back, accompanied by Gryphon who carried a picnic lunch in the legged basket. “I must ask for the sake of curiosity: is it among the things that you know how to do when you found yourself in Gelding with no memories, or did you have to nurture the ability from scratch?”
It was a rather odd and sudden question to ask, but Eidolyn could see no reason not to answer. “I decided to take on gardening as a way to make a way for myself. You see, I received some seeds as a gift from a charitable farmer the day I found myself there with no memories. At first I’d just planned to use them to grow food for myself, but upon resolving myself to plant the seeds, knowledge on how to cultivate them sort of…” This was very difficult to describe. “They rose up, unbidden, I suppose. I found out that I already had the basic knowledge needed to start a garden, but I did learn much of what I know afterward.”
They’d set out quickly after the strange escapade in the library, despite Shard’s suggestion that they spend a day relaxing after the incident; he’d worked himself into such a sweat that he insisted on having a bath, but Eidolyn pointed out that he would shortly get dirty again anyway, and that he may as well save it for the evening. Despite aggrandizing the hardship of leaving his home already sweaty, Shard relented, and constantly asked if Eidolyn was feeling all right after her bizarre vision. She had a difficult time talking to Shard about it, only because she had a hard time describing what she’d seen. Now that they’d been traveling toward Gelding for several minutes, she attempted it again.
“I was watching the end of everything, and it was as if I was far—very far away from everything. But it seemed to me that such a distant, uninvolved vantage point should be impossible.” The earthy-scented oranges and yellows of the forest laying itself into winter dormancy calmed her nerves.
“Perhaps it is,” Shard nodded. “It was only a vision, after all. You can see lots of things that aren’t real in your mind.”
It was frustrating that he didn’t seem to grasp the immersing nature of what she’d seen. “But I did more than see things—I felt things, too, and no, I am quite sure that I didn’t just think I felt them, as one does in a dream. I am quite positive that I felt very cold, and then a sudden, building heat as I was surrounded by…”
“By magic,” Shard finished cautiously. “I think it was a little too eager to get at you.”
That suggestion came a little too easy for Eidolyn. She demanded, “But why would that be? And how does that explain the vision? Is that normal for someone attempting magic for the first time?”
“I admit I’m not sure about that. I may try to do a bit of research this evening. However, I’d also like to make haste in finding a way to strengthen the protection around the tree. You may have noticed my work in the library this morning.” As Mittens began descending, its weightless leaps which still made Eidolyn’s stomach feel as if it might come up her throat growing longer, Shard turned around, steadying his grip on Mittens’ handles and ensuring that Eidolyn’s own hold was likewise secure.
They passed through the forest into a sunny glade of tall dry grass and Mittens slowed to a leisurely trot to enjoy the scenery, presumably with its giant button eyes. Though already dry enough to rustle like old paper, the glade they’d entered was full of the scent of the refreshing storm, the previous day’s rain having temporarily washed away the dusty veil of summer. The long grass grew in patches, indecisive bursts between stray boulders and animal burrows. At the far end of the glade, songbirds perched atop the stalks of more robust plants, calling out warnings and then shooting off to the other side of the clearing as Mittens carved its path through the long grass at a steady, luxurious trot. Before rejoining with the forest, an undiscovered stream cut through the warm, basking glade, only a couple of feet across and carving through the dense soil. The water, with its icy clarity, probably came from Alder Lake and carried at least some of its magical properties. Indeed, the pebbly rocks the water flowed past looked utterly immaculate. Even the dirt looked clean.
They once again entered the shelter of the woods, thinner just at the border of the glen, so that the  light above lit up the trees it shown through, so that each leaf seemed to glow. This was the woods that bordered Gelding, which, Eidolyn knew from consulting maps, was actually almost directly east of Pelgrin’s tower and just a little southeast of Shard’s tree, on the eastern side of the peninsula. That late in the summer, the grass was beginning to crunch a little under Mittens’ feet, but in the vernal glow of spring Gelding was known as the plushest land immediately laid out on the harsh northeastern coast, thanks to the protection of the upward-rising cliffs that rose above the village toward the sea, which took the full blunt of the truculent winds roaring in from the west which kept most of the coastline vegetation stunted at best.
This part of the woods close to the small settlement was full of the signs of nearby people: tree stumps, occasional bits of litter such as glass bottle and jars, ropes and pieces of construction implements, and childrens' treehouses, left forever in progress. Those woods were not very dangerous, and for the most part parents did not have reservations about letting their children roam unsupervised on the village’s outskirts. Wildcats and wolves lived there, but did not prefer to prey on people, and larger, more intelligent predators were so rare in those parts that it seemed needlessly fretful to worry about something like a demon attack or a bandit raid. As they passed a lean-to made of felled branches, stripped bare by several seasons and containing a few discarded toys, Eidolyn briefly wondered if Pelgrin had ever abducted anyone from Gelding.
Just as the lazy, soporific drone of cicadas became audible, Gelding came into view, achingly nostalgic, its buildings poking from the thick green carpet of trees to bask in the sunlight. How could she possibly feel so wistful about her home after having been away for less than a week? Granted, the fact that she couldn’t remember living anywhere else probably kindled the flame of nostalgia, but her adventures with Shard—enough for a lifetime, helped too.
But in the face of these adventures, being pulled invitingly into a perilous world of magic, her experience with wizards, monsters and animated dolls clashed with her previous life, so that approaching the village had the distinct feeling of waking up from a dream.
As Mittens bounded weightlessly over the forest brush, she saw that her roof had indeed been repaired behind her old house. Like an old friend, her garden faced the forest, rustling patiently in the shade, and it barely showed an signs of her absence. Had it been tended to while she was away?
“If we stop directly behind my house,” Eidolyn instructed, “The only way someone would see us is to be walking right by there.” How she wanted to pay a visit to the whole village! But she was meant to be questing, after all, and she did not want to bring Pelgrin’s abominations into Gelding again by making a spectacle of herself. But the small draws of Gelding now became aching temptations. Fresh fruit from the market, the Balmwethers' little boy practicing his lute, salted caramels from Haybell's and the old woman who lived by the well handing out happy fortunes. She always smelled of lilies.
They landed in the shade of the old oak, where a humid, warm breeze swept in from the sunbaked dirt path beyond. Gryphon gently set the basket, who had wordlessly agreed to carrying their lunch and remained dutifully in possession of it, in the grass. Shard and Eidolyn followed, the shadeling relishing the seclusion and the feel of the grass between his toes.
He sat in the grass, brashly defying the possibility of grass stains on his white trousers, picking at the vibrant green blades with his bare toes. “Ah! Opulence! Eidolyn, are you sure you want to garden on such a lovely day?”
“That is the best sort of day for gardening. It is not my fault you wore clothes better suited to a garden party.”
Gryphon sniggered as Shard unpacked a bottle of rosy pink wine, cold chicken, fruit, cheese and bread and a trio of vanilla tarts from the basket.
“Ah, this is true,” Shard assented primly. “However, I have no clothes suitable for gardening to begin with.”
He sounded oddly triumphant for one confessing a lack of casual clothing of any kind in their wardrobe. Eidolyn sat opposite to Shard, Gryphon joining between them, thumping down his shaggy flank on the verdant ground and eying the chicken with anticipation.
As for Mittens, it found a sunbeam to roll in and the basket, relieved of its burden sat down in the sun nearby. Perhaps the two, being of a similar contrivance, felt a sort of kinship?
As they ate lunch, Eidolyn made innocuous conversation, far from their troubles with Pelgrin. “You mention that the shadelings live nearby. Have you traveled much?”
“Some.” Shard picked at a bunch of grapes. “Merid's Mark Canyon, Juste, Zorn Valley and the Inter-City... The Lost Gardens are not far from there. Fascinating place, and besides being the residence of plants and animals thought to reside nowhere else, contains a cabin owned by the mage and novelist Ga-ai’kale Jallen—who, I might add, got me interested in magic when I was a little shadeling. Odd place for an elven mage to vacation, considering the fact that the giant plants utilize all nearby magic so completely that spells don’t function within that forest.”
“Could we go sometime?” Most travelers through Gelding were people traveling abroad, either coming or going through the smaller, less cozy Asher port as an alternative to the infamous Analerna. These travelers, understandably hoping for attention or, if they were mercenaries or freelance heroes (the latter being basically the same as the former but with better publicity due to greater attention to etiquette) a job which might bring fame and fortune, were boastful and flamboyant and all too eager to give superlative recounting of their previous ventures. There wasn’t an official heroes’ guild with job postings in for miles, so they would be trying to get jobs directly from clients without the inconvenience and charge of a middleman. From them, Eidolyn had heard tales of black holes in the sea, the mountainous wall around the world whose murderous winds’ sound would drive one mad, a city-sized metal plug in the center of a desolated wasteland, forests of twisted metal spires and caves so close to Miasma that creatures of utter evil spawned out of the empty blackness.
“We may,” Shard shrugged cautiously. “Like many beautiful places it is not without its dangers, but thankfully, its thorns are out of reach to those who know them when they see them. Gryphon!”
Gryphon, who had gotten up and begun to poke at the chicken sandwiches Shard had been assembling, now thumped down onto his rump with the innocent look of a housecat with a completely natural inability to understand the value of the antique vase it’s destroyed.
Shard pulled aside a sack about the size of a small chicken, because that was what it contained. “This is yours.”
As Gryphon nipped at the meat with little clicks of his beak, Eidolyn continued, “And how did you get so far away from home?”
“As I said, I was inspired to learn magic by Ga Jallen. I came across one of his books.” Shard sat back against the old oak, beginning to cut a small bit of cheese into cubes with meticulous care, paying a little too much attention to the perfection of the angles. “Interesting man. I didn't suppose I'd be able to track him down easily in this part of the kingdom, however, I’d heard of a legend: that of the Sylvan Tomes, a library, a repository of knowledge stored on ghostly shelves that constantly shifts around the forests of these lands. Perhaps the whole world,” Shard muttered. “Finding them deliberately is considered to be an impossibility. I, of course, found them, tracking them to these forests.
“I’ll never forget the exact spot at which I found the Tomes; if requested I could lead one right there without difficulty. That is how much an impression it had on me, shelves rising naturally out of the forest, basking in the intermittent light shining through the trees, unable to be determined if they are waiting or hiding. If they are offering their treasures to the most intrepid and clever of explorers or on a constant quest to ensure that they don’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“Perhaps both,” Eidolyn proffered.
Shard nodded, offering her some cheese. She accepted, as did Gryphon, who sat, thoroughly ensorcelled. He must not have heard this story yet, either. “To this day I am not sure which I was on the day I found the Tomes. But eventually I discovered Pelgrin’s compound, and through a serendipitous venture within its walls, discovered its awful secret. I determined to remain on the peninsula for as long as it took to put a stop to him, moving into the tree house shortly afterward.”
This revelation was more than Shard had revealed about himself at any one time leading up to that point. “At this rate,” she teased, “You’re going to run out of things to tell me in the evenings.”
“Not likely, but nice try,” Shard chuckled.
Following lunch, Eidolyn endeavored to get Shard into the garden with her. The garden itself seemed well kept, and had weathered the storm well, and in the past few days of her absence, damage of any kind was minimal. Now she was sure that someone had been coming by to be sure nothing withered.
She got Shard started collecting strawberries, the last of the season. Nevertheless, they would be good for preserves. Once inside the fence used to keep larger grazing animals out, Shard’s enjoyment of the ground under his bare feet waned as he stepped into the moist dirt with a grimace. At least the odd shape of his feet allowed him to walk between the rows of plants gently, but he seemed more preoccupied with finding dry spots. Gleefully, Gryphon watched from the grass, picking the bones of his lunch as the walking basket entered the garden to catch what they harvested.
“Cummon, Shard! Don’t ya want those nice, tasty berries? Or are you gonna strut about like a faun?”
“Silence, you,” Shard grumbled. “I am merely trying to be careful I don’t trample anything. See?” Aggrievedly, he stared at Gryphon whilst hastily picking a few berries from their plants.
“Oh! Shard—here.” Eidolyn quickly interjected herself. “You must break them off just above the stem. Leave a little of it on the berry. And look out you don’t throw them into the basket. You must place them in carefully. Come to think of it, perhaps we should have picked the tougher plants first,” she realized. Oh well. “Come here, basket.”
At last, the basket seemed to seize the chance for some amusement. Eidolyn did not blame it, for the dull life it must have led, and as they attempted to fill it with the fruits of their labor, the enchanted basket appeared to take great pleasure in making this as difficult a venture as possible, skittering all over the garden and leaving pointed little divots in the dirt behind that would surely have mystified anyone unaware of their maker.
It was a fun game at first. Eidolyn had never thought her normal routine of harvesting berries was boring, but she found this to be a satisfying transformation of work into play. They managed to, every once in a while, get their picked berries inside, and then would go back to picking, selecting fruit good enough to eat. As they did this, the basket would creep toward them with little clicks of its wicker weavings, but immediately prompt them to give chase again as soon as they had something to put inside it. And the basket, probably incredibly bored until now, did not tire of the game easily. Cornering it long enough to place fruit in the basket was a matter of teamwork. Unfortunately, for being an object without eyes and ears, Shard and Eidolyn soon discovered that it could see and hear their colluding. Worse yet, it at first pretended it didn’t hear, bluffing ignorance. Before long, Eidolyn was growing tired and she’d kicked dirt into her shoes, soon forced to kick them off into the grass and wade through the dirt barefoot like Shard.
“Hey! Basket, come on! Don’t forget who rescued you!” Shard attempted as he hopped over rows of plants, quick but unable to compete with the basket’s small size and agility. It made easy work of evading Shard as he continued to stumble around the garden with a handful of strawberries.
“That’s enough mischief, basket!” Eidolyn called. She took what she hoped would be a step that would allow to reach over the blueberries to grasp it, but it proved fruitless.
It seemed unwilling to listen to even her. It turned toward her, hopped up and down with a spray of mulch and skittered to the far end of the garden as Gryphon cackled from the grass.
Shard paused his pursuit long enough to put his hands on his hips and admonish Gryphon. In his frustration, he’d forgotten all reservations about avoiding dirt, and now had a dusty layer of topsoil running up his calves, smeared where he dashed past the damp plant leaves. There was dirt under his nails, and even a bit smudged on his face. “You could help!”
“Nah. This is more fun.” He and Mittens were curled up luxuriantly in the shade of the old oak as they watched the two struggle in the garden, most of the chicken skeleton discarded in the brush nearby.
Eidolyn paused to rest, panting and dirty with far too many mableberries ready to place in the basket. A couple of the round, maroon fruits had smashed into her dress. Mableberry juice is very difficult to launder, but Shard probably knew a spell for that. “I… Shard… I think we should…”
She was interrupted by Shard’s startled yelp. He’d gotten so caught up in chasing the basket that he hadn’t noticed that Eidolyn had stopped, and tumbled into her, followed by both of them tumbling side by side, in an awkward human-shadeling pile into the dirt between the raspberry and downberry bushes.
Gryphon, after sitting up to ascertain that they were unhurt, resumed his chuckling. “C’mon, basket. Give the poor clumsy people a break.”
Shard and Eidolyn shot up with discreet straightness out of the bushes, blushing at each other—or, more accurately, their feet.
“Um.”
“Um,” Eidolyn returned, before she realized that the voice the utterance belonged to wasn’t the man sitting in the dirt next to her, but came from outside the garden in the direction of the dirt path. In fact, it sounded like…
“Eidolyn!” Byrri rushed through the grass, dropping bags of shopping on the way, leaving groceries, candles and fabric strewn over the lawn on the way over as Eidolyn and Shard teetered onto their feet. The basket dropped onto its bottom, tucking its knees in under it. Eidolyn was grateful that it at least seemed to want to avoid startling Byrri more than she probably already had been.
Byrri was wearing a wide yellow sun hat that day, with a sunflower stuck on the side, and her white dress with yellow trim billowed extravagantly behind her. It looked an awful lot for one just out shopping, but then, it was always Byrri’s way to make a production of things, as she was now, running up to hear looking to be on the verge of tears with her arms outstretched and her blue eyes glassy with emotion.
“Oh, Eidolyn, I saw your note and I knew something was wrong! I kept it to myself, but I knew you would never be the type to go off on an adventure or do anything unexpected or spontaneous!”
Eidolyn had to both resist the urge to laugh and to question the nature of the comment which, by now, was hardly flattering. “Well…”
Byrri didn’t seem quite ready to let Eidolyn speak yet. Her best friend had difficulty relinquishing control of a conversation in the best of times, and now, she was the conduit for an unstoppable flow of worry. “What are you doing back here?” Her eyes fell on Shard. To Shard, the feel of her gaze landing on him seemed to have the weight of a packah. He winced as she trotted over daintily. “I’ll bet I know who this is. Eidolyn, really! If all you were doing was running off with Shard—he is real—that is, really Shard, right? You might have at least paid me a visit! Are you married yet? Are you having children?”
“Ah…” Shard stammered.
“Oh, but you are handsome!” Byrri reached forward toward his face but thankfully withdrew her hand before she got very far. “Not at all like the stories. Well, some stories say that you’re handsome, but those don’t seem to be as popular as the ones that say you’re a monster. Oh, but I’m sure you knew that.”
“I’ve been blissfully unaware,” Shard muttered.
“Byrri,” Eidolyn said patiently as Gryphon padded over to them, for once, in silence. “It is a bit more complicated than that, I’m afraid.”
“So you’ve eloped?”
Shard recoiled and seemed about ready to make an indelicate remark. Quickly, Eidolyn stepped in. “It’s a bit of a… well, an adventure.”
The light of comprehension washed over Byrri and she grinned widely. “Ah, you might have told me, Eidolyn! Oh, that is exciting.”
“Yes… and I am living with Shard for… convenience. I returned briefly to show him a thing or two about gardening.”
“Does that have to do with your adventure?”
“Not exactly…” she admitted. “But you mustn’t tell anyone! It is very important, for the moment, that no one is able to find me.”
Surprisingly quickly, Byrri nodded her understanding. Byrri enjoyed having something to be forlorn and dutiful about. “You can count on me. But Eidolyn, you will be at the harvest festival in Asher, won’t you? Remember the family that moved into the old farmhouse? They have a son, you see, and we are going together!” she squealed delightedly. “Oh yes—it is a costume party, if you’ll remember. I know I never could get you to go for any purpose other than to sell things there, but you really should if your, er… adventure permits. If you are in costume, no one will recognize you anyway!”
This was true. Eidolyn had been to the two previous harvest festivals, but then only to sell refreshments. She’d never worn any type of costume before, although at last year’s festival, Byrri had convinced her to wear a masquerade mask with cat ears and whiskers on it. Now probably wasn’t the best time to begin attending the festival for any other purpose; she had not even planned on going for the purpose of selling things, this year.
“Please, Eidolyn. It has been so long, and I promise I will not pry into your… adventure unless it’s something you want to tell me,” Byrri begged, then hastily added, “Of course, if you want to talk to me about anything, you know I will be here to listen. That isn’t to keep you from telling me your problems, of course. You understand! But… you did go off on your own in such a hurry without a personal good-bye. I figured…”
Eidolyn embraced Byrri, bringing up a sob from her friend’s throat. “I didn’t mean it that way, and you know that!” she scolded lightly. “But the way things happened, I did have to leave in a hurry.”
Byrri pulled herself away. “Eidolyn! Are you in any kind of danger?”
“No,” Shard quickly interjected. “She is in many kinds of danger, er… friend of Eidolyn. But I promise to protect her. You have my word that she is safe where she currently lives.”
Then, Byrri did the last thing Eidolyn would have expected to be in her capacity: she looked at Shard dubiously. In fact, the look she cast him was slightly suspicious. “Why, I don’t even know you! I want to know,” she stated slowly and deliberately as if a parent giving instructions to a child about to go on an errand in the next town for the first time, “that I can trust you to look after my dear friend. If you are as powerful as the stories say, that should be well within your ability, should it not?”
Even Shard, despite having his moral character questioned, looked impressed, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms. “A worthy question. I value Eidolyn’s safety, and I would likewise demand the same of anyone charged with protecting her other than myself. Rest assured: I am sure that you had her welfare and best interests in mind until she left, and that is true of me as well.”
Byrri looked only a little satisfied. Eidolyn had never any of the “Shard stories,” and now wondered about their details. Thankfully, Gryphon approached.
“Lass, me pal Shard ‘ere… ‘e might be a flamboyant dandy, flaunting ‘imself all over the forest… ‘e may also be a thief. And 'e is. But I’ve known ‘im since ‘e was a boy. Good kid, and ‘e still is, really. I’d trust ‘im wiv me life. ‘ave done, a coupla times. Cuz I know that ‘e’d do the same for me. ‘e ‘as, a coupla times. Gryphon’s word, Shard’s a good man!”
Eidolyn wasn’t herself sure what a Gryphon’s word was meant to be worth, but this seemed to satisfy Byrri more than what Shard had said. “All right, then.” Then, she turned to Eidolyn. “But please, you must let me know that you’re all right. I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in…”
“More like, what someone’s mixed her up in,” Shard blurted. “But close enough.”
Byrri nodded dismissively. “… but I want to know that my friend is safe. If you would come to the Asher harvest festival the Satyrday after next, that would satisfy me.”
“I cannot guarantee it,” Eidolyn said truthfully.
She was beginning to genuinely want to go, if only for Byrri’s sake, but of course there was no way to tell if she would be able to. And she knew that Shard wouldn't be too happy about the idea of attending a public celebration. But the lure of all the festivities she’d never been able to take part in—the Leaves’ Fall Dance, the Splat the Mayor with a Tart contest, the talent show (dominated in recent seasons by fire-eaters, which had been a popular novelty lately), Fireworks Over the Bay, and of course the costume ball, with a number of prizes rewarding the Funniest, Most Creative, Most Realistic Impersonation of a Noble or Celebrity, and Most Politically Relevant. Political satire is always popular.
“If you cannot, at least send word to me. Your pet gryphon might be able to carry a message, yes?”
“Oh yes,” Shard nodded enthusiastically. “He just loves doing errands. Always eager to please, our Gryphon.”
Gryphon winced, seeming to regret his tender endorsement of Shard… until the shadeling scratched him under his mane, eliciting a soft purr. “Yeh…” he agreed.
Following this, there was an awkward silence. Byrri couldn’t seem to take her eyes from Shard, always seeming to notice something new about him, first the round curious eyes and his horn, then the tail, then his feet, but Eidolyn supposed she didn’t blame her. Interestingly, Byrri never actually asked Shard what he was. Perhaps all the folklore had obscured his nature into that of a nameless forest sprite, and she didn’t even think to question it. It was probably just as well.
In the silence, Shard grinned and deposited his load of fruit into the basket. The basket didn’t move, and despite its lack of features, distinctly had the appearance of pouting. Eidolyn followed suit.
“Well then,” Byrri breathed. “I suppose you’ll be off.”
Eidolyn nodded. The reaction came automatically for some reason, perhaps from the bittersweet awkwardness of the situation. When would she see her friend again? What would happen between meetings?
“Well…” Shard shrugged. “There is some lunch left. Have you eaten?”
It came as a blissful shock, but in this case Shard was willing to prolong time with a stranger, though Eidolyn doubted he would have done the same if that stranger hadn’t been a friend of hers. They retreated from the garden and after cleaning off their hands, sat down in the grass again and talked, blissfully, of things having nothing to do with Pelgrin. They found themselves with a surprising surplus of mundane things to talk about, beginning with the revelation that all this time, Byrri had been caring for Eidolyn’s garden as best she could. Always a universal topic, discussion of the recent weather was a brief distraction, too.
Byrri did not stay long, however. Reiterating her insistence that Eidolyn and Shard attend the festival, she left to see to her costume, also mentioning with a knowing wink that she also had plans to meet with her date shortly. As was customary for couples, their apparel for the evening would match, and both had to make a contribution toward the costumes’ construction for them to be valid for the competition.
As Byrri left, thanking them warmly for the lunch and the company, Shard sighed. “We can’t go.”
“Of course, you’d say that!”
Shard didn't want to go. There was nothing interesting about a harvest festival to Shard at all, and yet he wore a stormy mask of culpability. “We haven’t the time!” he grumbled. “Yes, it’d be easy for you—you have a very ordinary appearance. No one would notice you! I’d never get away with it.”
“It is a costume party, Shard,” Eidolyn reminded him as she packed up the basket. This time, the basket, seeming to slow down after a day of running around, complied placidly. “Thank you, basket. And Shard, you’ve already succeeded in fooling the people of Asher once.”
*
Three more days passed in Shard’s tree home. Gryphon came and went on the autumn blusters,  providing Eidolyn with a bit of company as she found new ways to entertain herself. She thought of the harvest festival and how she would convince Shard to go along with it. She also thought of all the ways fate could conspire to keep it from happening, unfortunately. In addition, she found that Shard’s talent for magic seemed, ever so slightly, to be rubbing off on her! It was peculiar, but she didn’t care to mention it to him in order to ask if this was normal.
Generally, she would find herself understanding something magical in nature that Shard was explaining before she’d received all the details. Whenever Shard spoke about magic or performed magic, even when he didn't bother to explain what he was doing, truths seemed to congeal in the air around her. The spells' construction and the act of the execution were evident once she thought about it for a bit. She wondered how many other things would be obvious if she were only to give them a moment’s thought! Cleaning spells, spells to boil water instantly, spells to mend clothing and even a spell Shard used to repair part of the kitchen table where Gryphon had scratched it.
“When Gryphon scratched it,” Eidolyn surmised, “A bit of the wood came up under his claws. In order to make it like it was, what fills in the holes has to come from somewhere, right? Either the spell makes the wood remaining in the table take up more space or the new wood is borrowed from somewhere.”
“Close enough. Well said.” Shard’s reply came quickly, but tinged with curiosity. Thoughtfully, he looked down at the table, running a fingernail over a groove in the wood. “In this case, the spell does just that; the mixture I spread into the scratches in the table has been incorporated into its wood. It's an old trick, nothing special. I’ve never even crafted a spell; doing that would take all the reference material in the library on enchantments, and then some—probably no small amount of ingenuity, either.”
With light magic instruction, a bit of sorcerers' guild history and a bit of operatic fretting over an aging collar seam, Shard kept Eidolyn suitably amused for the time that he was at home, even if he wasn't personally with her. Of course, he was out every now and then, but he was usually back by nightfall.
All the instruction he had given was a reminder of something that apparently Gryphon had already been acquainted with for some time: a plea that even if either of them should roam deeper into the tree than they usually dare, not to upset or move anything that looks like it wasn't where it was meant to be. Eidolyn pressed him to be more specific; besides the fact that very little in the tree mansion looked like it was in a natural place, it sounded an awful lot like there was something in particular that Shard didn’t want touched, but he obstinately refused to elaborate. At least during this time, they thankfully hadn’t heard from whatever had disturbed their slumber in the early morning a few days back.
Once, on the second night, Shard went to Lord Pelgrin’s tower to investigate, he wasn’t able to make any progress. But at least, Eidolyn reflected, nothing bad appeared to have happened either, and Shard always came home safely to deliver her a cup of tea and a new small revelation about himself. While none of it was along the lines of the specific things that Eidolyn wanted to know about him, she did feel as if what he told her were clues that might point in the right direction, and that Shard was laying them in hopes that she would deduce some sort of truth without him having to spell it out explicitly. Still, he managed, over a cup of Icyl Oasis tea.
“How did you discover when Pelgrin was really up to?” she asked. “After all, he manages to fool everyone else; what tipped you off?”
Flying boldly in the face of the fact that Shard had requested that Eidolyn not actually ask any specific information of him, he answered the question. Or at least, he began to with a veneer of uncertainty. “I,” he spoke slowly and deliberately, “am brilliant.” He gave a small nod, but then retreated into serious contemplation. “But even besides that, I originally stumbled on his compound completely by accident, without knowing what it was, as I was exploring the forest shortly after leaving Sollen for the first time during a lull security just before it closed up for the day, but I did anyway, not even knowing the offense I was committing. That’s when…”
Completely rapt, Eidolyn had been nervously sipping her tea, despite the fact that it was piping hot. Now she was afraid she may have burned her tongue. “When?”
She could almost hear gears sifting through facts in Shard’s mind. “I saw a man dragged into the covered area of the compound, which I now know leads to Pelgrin’s underground laboratory where, as far as I know, all of his experiments and transformations are carried out.”
Shard was a very bad liar, after all; he was perfectly able to obscure the truth and abscond with a few facts here and there in his flights of melodrama, but when faced one on one with a problematic subject of conversation, he froze up. She could see in his eyes that he was basically telling the truth, but leaving something out. “And after that?” She had decided to leave the omitted details; she was too preoccupied hearing the portion of the tale that Shard felt comfortable enough relating.
“Cold white lights and screams soon followed,” Shard murmured direly. He seemed to grip his teacup protectively, with both hands. “As I have explained, I have seen portions of Pelgrin’s tower, but not his laboratory.”
“Was this before the shadelings started coming after you?”
Shard hesitated. “Before. I think they genuinely believed that the world would scare me back into remaining in Sollen. It was some time before they took any action. Anyway, horrified that I would be next, I stayed where I was, hiding behind a pile of firewood. I was constantly afraid that the moment I emerged, I would be discovered, or that this diabolical wizard had some sort of way to spot intruders—a trap or alarm system. For that matter, the main gates were closed and locked up. I crouched there in the cold night, desperately trying to devise the safest way possible to escape. What must have been a couple of hours later, Lord Pelgrin emerged from the laboratory leading… well…” Shard shrugged, realizing that what he was about to say would sound very silly without the context behind it. “A coat rack. A walking coat rack! I… I knew it was the prisoner from before. Pelgrin coerced it to not try to escape by threatening to force the man’s soul to leave the coat rack, after which it would have no body at all to reside in. It was slavery or oblivion; I believe that is how he keeps his foul creations in such complete submission.”
Imagine! Pelgrin’s home was a place of whimsical diversion to those unsuspecting of his evil. All of that going on under peoples’ noses and they couldn’t hope to know the truth. It was sickening, not at all a pleasant topic of conversation for one about to go to sleep. How many installations in Lord Pelgrin's estate would spend the cold night unable to sleep, speak or dream?
This thought must have shown on Eidolyn’s countenance. Tenderly but discreetly, Shard laid a hand on hers. “I’ll find a way to fix it all, Eidolyn. I doubt it will be straightforward, but the solution I arrive at for Pelgrin’s prisoners… I will certainly arrive at one, make no doubt about that, Eidolyn.”
In the night, while Eidolyn mostly enjoyed a peaceful, resigned sleep, near to dawn, she was alarmed by a great crash and a thud coming from somewhere in the lower rooms of the tree. Bolting up in the humid, dewy morning haze, she whirled to face the door to her little bedroom, immediately fearing the worst—encroachers, of some sort, come to exact any number of wicked schemes of theft or destruction! Or, she thought wistfully with a nervous laugh, perhaps it was the original owners of the tree home come home at last to discover that someone else had moved in!
And the morning was still. Shard was not in his usual places he might be found: the kitchen, library, study, or bathroom. Gryphon was equally absent. Eidolyn supposed it was only a matter of time before Shard's private adventures left her alone one morning, but that did little to soothe her at the time. Shard hadn't said much about what she was welcome to, should she find herself in need of breakfast-- and she most certainly was.
Well! She decided. It was Shard's own fault if she found some delectable treat that he'd been hoarding and decided to help herself in her ignorance. But though she returned to her room and began throwing on her dress and brushing her hair with resolute fervor, she soon noticed that her tree home was even more still than she might have expected merely without the absence of a flamboyant wizard and a gryphon. She'd come to be used to living with a forest's worth of animals that Shard never bothered to keep out-- from spiders and mice to rabbits, squirrels and wolves. As she left the comfort of the room she'd laid aside as her own private space, she noticed that there was no sign of any animals either. Apart from her, the tree was utterly abandoned that morning.
The effect was so drastic that it pulled Eidolyn backward into her room as she contemplated what the significance of this might be. And, following that, what there might be in her room, or the nearby ones, that she could use as a weapon. As she selected, with some panicked deliberation, a letter opener she found laying with a ball of yarn, some pins and an old quill at the bottom of a drawer, the basket flung itself into the room.
Interesting how primal fear has a way of showing itself, even in objects that normally are inanimate.
“Hello, Basket. I don't suppose you can tell me what you've seen. Stay here if you like. I suppose if someone's here, they'll find me eventually. I'm not sure if I should hide. I don't know what good it might do.” Eidolyn gripped the letter opener the way she imagined a dagger was meant to be held and trod over living bark and dust with her bare feet back toward the kitchen, feeling her way past the knots and knobs in the walls. This was all despite the fact that she heard feverish rustling and crashes issuing from that very room. Somehow it was harder to bring herself to hide herself away without knowing what was in the tree with her. It'd be backing herself into a corner!
She really haven't given any thought into the danger of being alone in Shard's home. He was away so often and would often suddenly excuse himself for hours with no explanation. She'd already taken it somewhat for granted.
The sounds grew quieter as she approached the kitchen, but Eidolyn supposed that was only because whatever was in snuffling around there was rapidly running out of things to knock over, and it was with no small worry that she thought she could hear Shard's precious tins of imported tea klunking to the floor and then crushed underfoot by the weight of something heavy. But she was actually relieved when she heard talking: at least if whatever she was dealing with could speak, it could be reasoned with.
The shuffling from the next room became more cautious as she approached. They knew she was there, and even as Eidolyn's mind screamed, her body froze in frigid fear.
Her world turned blinding silvery-white. It shone through her eyelids, penetrated her eyes and seared painfully in her mind. And, briefly feeling as if she were falling through that silvery-white nothingness, Eidolyn tumbled backward onto her bottom, rather painfully as she squarely hit a knothole on the floor. In her shock the letter opener was dropped into the shadows.
That letter opener was her world and her best chance at survival. As her vision returned, she fumbled for it and found it after but a moment of fear. And it was all she could do to not lash out with it as three elongated, scaly faces of white with bulging, brilliant white eyes peered out of the kitchen at her. The eyes were the near the color of Shard's, but lacked their curiosity. These were rather dull and indifferent. As the three creatures, who Eidolyn decided looked very much like they might be a kind of dragon, regarded her and huffed delicate breaths through elegantly tapered muzzles, she lowered her improvised weapon.
The three dragons reached cautiously forward. As they did, their shimmering scales looked exactly like moonlight, and with each of the three creatures casting their own white light, the shadows of everything in the kitchen and corridor were multiplied and stretched tortuously.
“I dunno, Elder,” one of them spoke with a powder-blue flicking tongue. “Just a human. Only thing here, and she ain't the Shard.”
“I can tell she's not the Shard!” one who looked a little older and grayer than the rest snapped through its tiny mouth lined with miniscule fangs, so tiny they might have just been for show. “But what is she doing here?” It crossed its arms over its chest and narrowed the tiny white suns it used for eyes.
The third one gestured with willowy-thin claws and nodded enthusiastically. The long antennae sprouting from its forehead bobbed around the dragon's curling, rigid horns. “Oh, you remember! She's the Eidolyn human.”
The three of them exchanged uncomfortable looks. They fidgeted their claws and shuffled their taloned scaly feet.
More people she had only met for the first time who already knew her name. It was both bewildering and frustrating. “You're shadelings.” It came out sounding much like a demand, carried on the wings of her breath all of the questions she frantically wished to ask all at the same time.
That worked. All three shadelings, beautiful creatures with forms that showed divine simplicity all along their sinewy forms, reeled back. Their tiny shoulders and necks coiled into protective question-marks.
“I knew it! You've come for Shard!” For now, Eidolyn resisted raising her weapon. She doubted she could do anything with it against these things. “He isn't here!” Then, she elaborated as she squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest a little, “I’ve been invited into Shard’s home, due to his kindness, and if you’re upset at Shard it’s not my place to interfere, but I don’t appreciate you sizing me up like I’ve got claws and fangs; I am a young woman with a letter opener, which I frankly don't think I could cut an apple with, much less a dragon.”
“Then we will wait here for him,” the one who appeared to be the oldest rumbled.
“Oh, no you won't!” She didn't know much about these creatures' relationship with Shard, but at the moment this was as much her home as it was Shard's. And she couldn't abide by such rude intrusiveness. They moved back even further as she sat up commandingly. “If you attempt to make yourself at home in the abode of someone who wants nothing to do with you, I really don't have any other choice but to make it as difficult for you as possible!”
Even as she got to her feet, the three shadelings contemplated this silently. All of them seemed to be nodding in recognition of some truth. A silent debate took place, all of its nuances, counterpoints and rationalizations taking place behind those burning white eyes. Come to think of it, Shard hadn't spoken much about the magical qualities of this race, much less exhibited any of them, probably wishing to distance himself as far from them as possible.
Then, the larger of the two younger shadelings stepped forward, a white membrane flashing over his blank eyes. At the same time a maddening booming sound began assaulting her ears, Eidolyn was lifted into the air and out of the corridor, into the kitchen. Quite helpless, she refrained from any urge to attack the creatures and instead demanded, “Look here! You will put me down! I have nothing to do with you, and you are invading this home most obstinately. Who gave you the right to do something like this?”
No attempt to escape from the shadeling's invisible grasp seemed to improve Eidolyn's situation. Precariously balanced on thin air, any movement sent her tipping back and forth, flailing. And no sooner than did she right herself from nearly reeling upside down, the shadeling which had trod forward bathed her in white light exuding from his eyes. Briefly, it felt as if something was being drawn from her.
“Stop! Whatever you're doing, please stop!” Where in the gods' name was Shard?
“Jasker, I must know what you are doing,” the oldest shadeling breathed over Eidolyn's screams of protest.
“Checking, of course. Seeing if she's got much potential for swaying the world's balance.”
“Jasker, that recourse is only for extreme emergencies!” came the reply.
“Yeah! You're not gonna...” the smallest of the two younger shadelings said. This one, Eidolyn noticed, was a bit pudgy and conducted himself meekly, holding himself inward.
“If that's what it takes... Right Honourable Chancellor says we need to bring the Shard back. He's trusting us. I know he doesn't like young folks, but maybe if we can do this, he'll trust us.”
Eidolyn cared very little for being treated impartially in terms of any kind of potential. “W- what?” she quavered. “If I could change the balance too much you'll... do away with me?”
“We shadelings safeguard the balance and its natural fluctuations. But if someone is inconsequential... negligible enough that their sacrifice will not change that balance, we are permitted to gently end them. No fear, Eidolyn human... it appears that we cannot safely end you without affecting the balance. You are spared.”
“Spared!” Eidolyn thrashed and struggled mortally, uselessly in the air and the oppressive divine light. Bathed in it, she felt terribly dirty and inadequate, and that only made her angrier. She felt like a gutter rat trying to lecture a prime hunting hound. “I don't care what you think of me! What I do care about is people that you might feel aren't important enough-- people who might be my friends!” What might happen if someone like Byrri-- sweet and ordinary Byrri, were to come across these creatures? “I can only think that you don't understand what it's like to really care about someone, to be able to stare at a person and think you know whether they ought to live or not!”
The exchange the three shadelings shared wasn't exactly culpable, but it was one of realizing that they knew less about their quarry than they thought. The Eidolyn human was too complex. They thought they knew the optimal ways for calming a human's aggressions, but those didn't work very well when they were formed by creatures that never spoke to humans anyway. What seemed to be a bright, shallow puddle had turned out to be a deep, dark well and the shadelings, in all their divine light, suddenly grew afraid of its depth.
And so Eidolyn pressed on. “I don't know why, but Shard thinks differently than all of you seem to. Maybe if you'd try to understand...”
The three shadeings huddled together. Their heads bowed bitterly. “That was his own doing.”
Something had emasculated the pure and perfect white dragons. At least partially defeated, they lowered Eidolyn onto the floor and skulked away with their wings tucked in tightly, single file toward the dining room out of the tree, thankfully taking the blaring pure light with them. That whiteness seemed to drain from the room, receding as their shadows lengthened through the corridor. As soon as the last sign of them, white serpentine tails disappeared, Eidolyn allowed herself to sit back against the wall in the comforting earthy coolness.
Eventually, though, she picked herself up and shakily, nervously went about her morning, thinking of indignant and powerful things she would have liked to have said to the shadelings until Shard returned with Gryphon, just as she was finishing her own breakfast. The tea was almost a total loss; most of it would have to be thrown out, and many of the handsome tins that had held them had been destroyed by the shadelings.
She'd had some time to think about what the shadelings had told her, whether or not they were strictly true. And, as he returned, a perspiring frame of worry after having seen his home broken into and snooped through whilst Eidolyn was alone, she supposed she owed it to Shard to let him know everything that might be useful for him to know about the dreadful encounter.
“It's no less than the messenger promised, really,” Shard sighed. “Well. That settles it.” He tossed his green cloak over the nearest chair and began to walk past her, in the direction of his bedroom.
“What?” There he went again. She had wanted to question Shard regarding the shadelings' comments, but he sped off out of the kitchen more quickly than usual. In fact, he might have been described as having fled the kitchen.
After a few minutes of wandering and following the characteristic sounds of his footsteps, Eidolyn found him in one of the storage rooms that branched off from the main dining hall, which actually seemed to have been a bath chamber that had been converted into a storage room by sheer way of storing things in it. It was a shame; if it were to be cleaned, the room looked like it would be charming and luxurious! “We’re going on a trip,” Shard announced chipperly, wafting through the room like a breeze and gathering up eclectic items from drawers and shelves.
Stepping out of the way as he reached for a candle-holder sitting in a pile of yarn as she stood there in her nightgown, Eidolyn said, “And I see you’ve convinced yourself of that completely on your own.”
“Yes. I do that,” Shard acknowledged as he tossed some mismatched bags onto the table and pulled more bags out of them. “We desperately need help, and as I've discovered that Pelgrin’s away in the Inter-City for gods know what, while we could use the opportunity to snoop around…” He ran from the room lugging what he’d picked out, only not leaving her behind because Eidolyn ran along behind him. “And perhaps we can replenish our stock of tea, as well. Insensitive, aloof monsters! Some of those flavors were limited edition, too.”
“… you’d rather venture out as well, while we don’t have to worry about keeping an eye on him,” Eidolyn finished. That had probably been Shard's original rationalization, but now there was avoiding the shadelings to consider, too. Something about Eidolyn's account of their invasion seemed to have spooked him severely and he was now running about in the manner of a nervous mouse.
Eidolyn hadn’t traveled very far in her short life, and as it was, she knew just enough to get by in a tiny village and, now, a small amount about living in a giant tree with a self-absorbed shadeling (considerably more difficult). She didn’t even know much about the geography beyond the eastern peninsula other that there were plains to the south and water in every other direction, and apart from Asher, it was some distance to the next large city. “So, where…”
They arrived in the kitchen, where there was soon a half-full sack of provisions on one of the tables. Next to it, Gryphon sat impatiently, probably still waiting to hear what Shard was up to this time. He watched Shard pace around the room, his tail lashing.
Shard returned with an armful of bottles and canisters of creams and lotions and enough grooming implements to perm a packah. Far too much. Noting this, Shard sighed voluminously and discarded most of what he’d brought out and, packing only his comb and mirror with similar concern of one rationing water for a desert crossing, he said, “It should be only a few days’ travel to Analerna.” He hastily tossed in a small bottle and a flat, cylindrical glass container made of thick, multifaceted glass, then jerked his hand away before his will power could be overcome again, and clasped his hands together for good measure. “Analerna has the most crime of anywhere in the kingdom and is the home of our bold, but overstarched ally, Windemir! It's our best chance for rallying aid to fight an evil wizard, his hordes of monstrous aberrations and his army of well-paid minions in a hurry.”
“Ah ha!” Gryphon crowed. Now, his thick tail stirred up the dust on the floor. “Here I was beginning to miss the old, completely mad Shard wot frew himself to his doom. Don’t expect me to show up to save you in Analerna juss because I’ve happened to be nearby in the past when you needed me!”
Shard was fortunate to have Gryphon’s fellowship at all—at least, that’s how Gryphon probably viewed their relationship. Gryphons have no need for friendship and convincing one that it was useful was like trying to sell snowshoes to a fish, and if a gryphon used the word “love” it was probably about to refer to its favorite food. To iterate this point, Gryphon sat up straight like a statue and curled his claws over the side of the tabletop. “But you, luv,” he crooned to Eidolyn, “I’m concerned for your safety. Analerna!” he tsked.
Gryphons also have a soft spot for virgins, whether or not they consider them to be part of their prospective menu.
“Oh, Gryphon!” Shard shot a cautionary glare at the beast. “You can plan a trip to Analerna and be perfectly safe!”
“Yeh—by canceling it! Why dun ya just go to Connyton? City o’ ‘eroes, dey call it.” He nodded smartly, crossing one paw over the other.
“Phh.” Shard tousled the crest of feathers on Gryphon’s head. “Yeah, as a tourist attraction. Sure, it has the Heroes’ Contest and the Temple of Merid, but three hundred ninety-three days out of the year Connyton is about as heroic as a babelisk sunning on a rock. Besides,” Shard concluded, closing the case with his usual exhibitionistic flourish, “What kind of hero hangs around the most peaceful city in the kingdom, anyway? My dear friend, you want heroes, you go to the most dangerous one!”
“You juss said Analerna was safe.”
“Quiet, Gryphon. We’ll be safe with Mittens. We can head south, then go around the Swamp of Dire Poets (I hate mud), and cut through the Howling Woods after a stop-off in South Sable—village made up of the descendents of the noble thieves that founded Analerna before they got nudged out by entrepreneurs of grander sorts of despotism. You see, they always know what’s happening in Analerna, sometimes better than the people who live there.”
Considering what Eidolyn had been through in the past couple of days, the prospect of traveling to a city where there would be no Pelgrin to worry about sounded like a fine idea to her, and easily favorable to waiting around for something to happen. “When can we leave?” For once, she didn't mind being swept up in Shard's plans, but that didn't diminish her desire to hold him accountable for the habit.
Without pause came an exuberant, “On the morn!” Shard gathered up the bags he’d packed and smacked Gryphon’s flank. “I’ve an errand to perform before we leave. I shan’t be away for very long. Just long, enough, in fact, for you to get packed.”
“There you go,” Eidolyn sighed, “Making decisions about what all of us are doing on your own! Where are you going, and why?”
“Into Asher,” Shard replied, for the moment seeming to ignore accusations about his inconsiderate nature. “If the peninsula has a few days remaining of Lord Pelgrin’s absence, I want an investigation performed on his compound. If I can just convince the local police to do so with enough urgency… Now may be a good time. They should be getting bored stiff right about now; it always gets this way between the peak of summer and the Harvest Festival: just the promise of something to do might get Windemir and his men out beyond the city limits.”
“Shard, do you know what those shadelings said about you?”
“Something stuffy, I'm sure.”
“They said the reason you're different from other shadelings was over something you did. Do you know what they...”
“Just as I thought!” he snapped haughtily. “Stuffy! Certainly not worth my time.”
Once again, Shard gave no one the time to protest, whirling around on his tiny heels. Eidolyn wondered if that came from literally always being on his toes; he jauntily bowed and excused himself.
“Ooh!” Eidolyn sighed. “Gryphon, I really don’t know how I’ll keep from going completely mad around him.”

Chapter Seven: The Unicorn Man Surrenders
By that time, they were at a bit of a loss as to how to spend the time without Shard. She had been running out of rooms to explore, although she did notice that upon returning to a place she'd visited before, she often sighted some sort of furnishing or out of place object that she was certain wasn't there before. Most of these things weren't valuable, either. Stray boots, buckets, pots and pans, feather quills and buttons, things like that. Was Shard really such an incurable thief that he felt the need to abscond with  basic amenities that he already had plenty of? Though he did constantly swear that the junk in his home accumulated by itself, and the constant sound of shifting objects that could be heard from the tree's bowels when everything was quiet did collude with this.
If there was a clue to Shard's past amongst any of it, it'd be deliberately hidden, like the button in the bookcase. The ever-shifting piles of detritus and odds and ends, like desert dunes, always changed shape and so were prime hiding places. And so, spurred on by Shard's outright dismissal of her inquiries, she began snooping. She'd looked around on plenty of occasions that Shard was away but she had never committed herself to the idea of sneaking around with the purpose of finding anything.
With some reluctance, Gryphon accompanied her. “I dun fink you'll find much 'ere, luv. Perhaps if Shard were given to keeping a journal...”
She tried to picture what might be a typical entry in a diary written by Shard: Woke late at half past ten, an hour past scheduled bath. Washed hair twice for good measure. Reminder: only ten kinds of cologne left. Did some prancing about and secretive mumbling to self, all in all a productive morning.
“He means well, luv.”
“Hmm,” she recognized as they entered Shard's amphitheater bedroom. It was cleaner than ever and he'd, perhaps in embarrassment over the incident earlier, not replaced the broken mirrors. Just one full length mirror and a small tilting mirror in a frame remained. Books were everywhere: on the floor, the tables, half-buried in the nest of quilts and pillows on his bed... one book was wedged firmly into a crack in the wall and might not have been noticed normally. This book, however, seemed to command Eidolyn's attention. Darting through the dim light of the magic torches, she went to retrieve it.