Sons of Destiny Prequel Series 003 - The Shifter (20 page)

Solyn greeted her with equal awkwardness. "Um... Mother. Hello."

Reina eyed both of them, empty basket handle clutched in her hands. "Well. You
are
wearing those amulets, I trust?"

"Mother!" Solyn exclaimed, blushing.

"Alone down here together, for hours on end?" Reina asked, arching one brow. "As far as euphemisms go, 'waxing the cheese' isn't one that
normally
comes to mind for such—"

"Please!" Kenyen interjected firmly, as Solyn's face headed toward purple. He gave the older woman a quelling look. "We
haven't
been doing that."

"It was just a kiss, Mother!" Solyn added, recovering some of her composure. She felt flustered, but it truly had only been a kiss. "We're taking a short break—to
stretch
," she asserted firmly as her mother lifted one brow again, "—and then we'll go back to work. Cora's Truth!"

Reina eyed both of them, then shrugged. "Whatever you see fit to do, you may do... so long as you wear those amulets. And so long as you realize Ysander isn't going to wait forever for the two of you to make your twinings the
married
sort." She shrugged blithely, turning away. "But what do I know? I'm just a mother, here to pick up a couple of cheeses..."

Loading three rounds into her basket, Reina strolled back out of the winding tunnel, leaving them alone once more. Embarrassed, Solyn covered her face. She stayed that way until the ring spun on her finger, reassuring her they were alone. Slumping, she dropped her hands, then fanned her overheated face. "
That
was awkward."

"We're alone again?" Kenyen asked her. Solyn nodded, turning back to the table. He nodded as well. "Right. Let's get those messages written and sent."

Taking his hands in hers, Solyn muttered the spell her mother's approach had interrupted.
"Manumundic!"

Kenyen hastily turned his head into his shoulder, muffling his sneeze. He gave Solyn a sheepish look. "I'll have to get better at suppressing the urge to do that."

Contrite, Solyn wrinkled her nose. "I should've remembered an allergy potion, myself. You'll just have to suffer until I can make one, I guess. Okay... let me prepare the first paper..."

His nose itched. From her first murmur, his nose stung and itched. Kenyen tried rubbing it discreetly, then pinched it openly. As her power rose, so did the sting deep in his nostrils, like smelling something acrid, though not unpleasant. He sneezed twice more, then the itching subsided. When she beckoned him over, Kenyen sniffed hard to clear his nose as he picked up the pen.

"Who is the first person you want to write to?" Solyn asked him. "Hold that person's name, face, mannerisms, and all of who they
are
, firmly in your mind."

"Ashallan," he stated, holding the image of the foremost of the three princesses in his mind. He had given a lot of thought to who he would contact and what he would say. Picking up the pen, he dangled it over the ink jar. "Do I start writing now?"

Solyn nodded, shifting a little farther away. She watched as he frowned in concentration for several moments, dipped and tapped the pen, and stroked small, neat lettering onto the prepared sheet. It didn't take him long, but then the sheet wasn't very large.

Ashallan Nur Am, Cat, Lion;

Nespah Valley the correct one. Multiple curs in area, twenty-plus. They want something dangerous. Trapped into imitating endangered local; being watched but have ally. Need help rescuing local. Be discreet; ask for greenvein cheese.

Sin Siin, Cat, Tiger

Lifting his hand from the page, mind still focused on thoughts of Ashallan, with her middle-aged features, her long, dark brown hair, Kenyen nodded at the message. "That's it. What now?"

She nodded. "Give it a few moments to dry. You might want to step back and get ready to sneeze again."

Stepping back, he gave her room. She peered at the inked sheet, counted quietly under her breath, and finally nodded. As Kenyen watched, she picked up the sheet and started folding it diagonally, then crosswise. To his surprise, she sang as she worked. The words and the power behind them made his nose itch once more, but the tune was nothing more and nothing less than a children's melody, the kind he himself had sung back on the Plains. Different words entirely, but the same rhythmic, happy tune.

He almost sang along. Catching himself, Kenyen kept silent while she worked. The paper folding was fascinating, each bend simple enough on its own, but when put together, complex. By the time she finished, the square of paper vaguely resembled a sharp-beaked bird with its wings upraised, and no legs.

Solyn stopped singing. She eyed her creation critically, turning it over to check all sides. Running her fingers along each leading wing edge, she made them curve, then held the bird by its folded paper breastbone and pulled on the tail. The wings moved, flapping down and up with each tug.

Startled, Kenyen blinked, then tentatively touched his nose. "I didn't sneeze?"

Solyn smiled. "No, you didn't, because the movement isn't magical. If you fold it right, the pressure on the paper makes the wings flap. That's what makes the flying spell possible. They do have a limited range, but Teshal isn't even half that—I've successfully sent bird-notes to tea caravans stopping in cities on the far side of the Morna River. I can even show you how to fold a non-magical one afterward, if you like. Here, hold firmly in your mind the memory of the person this message is for, and paint their name on each wing."

She had folded the bird so that the writing was on the inside. Kenyen had plenty of room to write
Ashallan Nur Am
on each wing. When he finished, he asked, "How will she know this is a message that needs to be opened up and read?"

"It'll flutter around her hand until she tries to catch it. The moment she does, it'll unfold on its own and she'll be able to read the message inside. Anyone else would have to tear it open, and they'd be fighting the power of the spell to do so. It's not
quite
a reliable means of secret communication, but it does resist casual spying," she told him. Instead of reaching for the paper bird or the pen, Solyn plucked the next sheet from the pile. "We'll do all of them up to the part where you paint the name on the wings, then I'll bind the flying enchantments in place all at once. Let me get the next one started..."

Kenyen realized he was hungry. Getting up, he returned to the alcove with the bag of food she had brought. Inside were a couple rounds of flatbread, bits of cold roasted beef, thinly sliced onion, leafy greens of some sort, and a jar of pickle sauce. The sauce was an acquired Corredai taste in Kenyen's opinion, alien and a bit strange, but it wasn't too bad. Uncorking the jar, he sniffed at the paste inside, wondering if he wanted any on his flatbread.
Huh... the smell goes with the scent of the greenvein cheese around us. I wonder if they taste good together?

"... Kenyen? Where did you go?"

"To fetch the food," he called back. "It's past noon." He recorked the jar and tucked it back into the bag. Picking up it and the waterskin, he carried both back to the ledger alcove. "As soon as we're done writing and folding, I figure we can eat. And since you're busy chanting and folding, I might as well set it up, right?"

That earned him another smile. She was passably pretty under most circumstances, but Solyn's beauty truly blossomed when she smiled, in his opinion. Even the amused half smile she gave him, twisting up one corner of her mouth in teasing. "I'll have to keep cleaning your hands, though."

"I'll suffer the sneezing," he promised mock-solemnly. Grinning with her, he settled the bag on the table, sneezed as promised when she cleaned his hands, and picked up the pen. "Ready for me to write?"

"Remember, keep firmly in your mind who this new person is. Everything about them, their mannerisms, their nature, their voice and their face and their name, everything that makes them who they are, and the person you know," she instructed. "I'll go get one of the cut rounds so we can have some greenvein with our meal—you might as well have a taste of what we're trying to protect."

Kenyen nodded absently. The next person he knew he wanted to contact was Manolo. The older shifter wasn't high-ranked in their expedition, but he was levelheaded and the one person whom Kenyen knew for absolute sure. The first letter had to go to Ashallan as the head of their little mock warband, but this letter was the one Kenyen was sure would get through. The message was the same; now that he had composed it to fit on the small square, it didn't take long to write.

Once she started humming and folding, Kenyen picked up one of the slices she had cut from the mold-mottled round of greenvein cheese. Eyeing the streaks of green warily, he braced himself and tried a nibble. And sneezed. Not just any sneeze, but a really
good
sneeze, the kind that wasn't too hard or too stingy. The kind that cleared his nose in just two deep breaths post-sneeze, allowing him to smell everything a lot better than before.

I guess her magic literally made me allergic,
he thought in wonder, listening to her chant away. Even more oddly, his nose didn't sting anymore, though she was still singing as she folded. Bemused, Kenyen nibbled again at the cheese. It had a good flavor, tangy and tasty. He liked it.
Heh... I don't know much about magic, but if this stuff stops me from sneezing, I know many a husband down on the Plains, married to mage-wives, who would pay dearly for rounds of this. Being married to a mage is a rare treat, and we'll endure it for our lady's sake, but the chance to
not
sneeze would make a most profitable trade arrangement.

Dutifully, he let her clean his hands so he could paint Manolo's name on the wings of the second bird. Then went back to nibbling more of the cheese while she started on the next page. The actual act of spell-cleaning his skin made his nose sting, though not enough to sneeze. But with the first bite of green-mottled cheese, the tangy-sharp flavor cleared away the itch.
It
must
be the cheese. Definitely a point of trade to consider...

Curiosity drove him to use the small spoon provided, dabbing a bit of pickle-sauce on the remainder of his cheese slice. The combination was sharper than expected, but very, very tasty. Catching sight of his actions, Solyn quirked a brow. He grinned back at her.

"You know the drill. Hold in your mind an image of the person
this
message will reach..."

Seven

They made two more messages, one to Asellah, the princess from Family Mustang, Clan Horse, and one to Narquen Vil Shem, the male who had headed for the holdings of the Mespak Valley to the southeast. Kenyen knew both of them well enough from their travels. The group had been together since setting out at midspring, after all. But he didn't know them quite as well as he knew Manolo.

When the fourth bird was properly painted and the lot carried to the cave mouth, inked, and released to flap their way high into the sky, Kenyen was ready for a real meal. Accompanying Solyn to the back of the cave, they sat down on the stools at the table and set about slathering sauce on the rounds of flatbread, layering it with greenvein cheese, vegetables, greens, and meat, then folded each roughly in half.

Eating the food Corredai-style put a crick in his neck, since it required holding the folded flatbread upright in both hands and tilting the head to one side, but Kenyen couldn't deny the combination was worth the effort. Though perhaps not the embarrassment. Solyn giggled at him when he dropped a chunk of cheese on his lap.

"Now
that
is more like the real Traver," she snickered. "He
definitely
isn't the most graceful when eating flat-folds."

He rolled his eyes, chewed, and swallowed. "... Laugh all you want. It's delicious. And the sauce goes with the cheese."

She smiled at the compliment. "Thank you. I made it myself."

"Speaking of cheese..." Kenyen muttered, plucking the sauce-smeared scrap off his lap and tossing it in his mouth. She wrinkled her nose at him, but didn't comment. Kenyen lifted his chin at the sliced round sitting patiently on the table. "When I ate that stuff, I stopped sneezing. It even quelled the itching deep in my nose, practically from the first taste. If that thing
does
quell the magic-itch plaguing a tenth of my people, you'll have a brand-new market for it as soon as we can get a couple rounds back home. A huge market."

She blinked at that. "Really? It stopped your sneezing? And your people would
want
to eat it, enough to import it in a high quantity?"

"Not just the shifters married to our few mages," Kenyen told her, "but the warband shifters as well. We've had a number of sticky moments going up against renegade mages. A sneeze or three at the wrong moment has put several lives in danger over the years."

"Huh." Solyn considered the possibilities. "I suppose it makes some sense. I never really considered the other potential properties of greenvein mold, nor do I think has my mother..." Shrugging, she lifted her flatbread fold. "Well, here's to your good health!"