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Authors: April Leonie Lindevald

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BOOK: The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare
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SIXTEEN
Celebrations

O
VER THE COURSE OF THE
next week, Theriole, its grounds, and indeed the entire city of Therin were abuzz with public preparations for a Coronation – an event which usually took place only once or twice in a lifetime. There was work for every soul who sought it. Gold and silver were changing hands in a steady stream in all the shops, and a spring-like excitement lifted everyone’s mood from under the shadow of autumn’s catastrophes. The rains finally came in earnest during the first part of the week, which wrought havoc at the tented campsites of all the visiting lords and ladies, but could not dampen the enthusiasm with which everyone prepared for the coming event. Life was good. Order would be restored. A king would be crowned and his regent set in place.

The economy boomed as clothing, foodstuffs, and decorations had to be crafted and purchased, entertainments rehearsed, and halls scrubbed sparkling for the gala festivities. A week was not nearly enough time to prepare for such an enormous affair. But, Jorelial Rey, and her steward Bargarelle had been putting the pieces in place for months, in anticipation. Lord Drogue’s petulant tirade was all but forgotten in the atmosphere of hope and delight which buoyed the entire kingdom, and most who even remembered it wrote the incident off as idle ramblings from a disgruntled border lord, or perhaps a touch of indigestion.

Quiet preparations were also going forward for Mark and Delphine’s wedding, which, partly for expedience and partly out of some perverse sense of humor, was to take place in a lovely, obscure corner of the palace gardens on the very morning of Coronation day. It was to be an intimate, private affair among the flowers and statuary; just the happy couple, Rel and Tvrdik, Mark’s family, and Nyree – Mark’s teacher and head of the harpers’ guild. She was one of the most seasoned and respected bards in all the kingdom, and despite her white hair and failing eyesight, she still had a voice of such unearthly beauty that it stopped people in midstride. No one knew exactly how old she was, and there were rumors that she was half elf, or fairy – rumors she would neither confirm nor deny. Listening to her, one was easily convinced that they were true. Nyree rarely ventured far from her home these days, but she had always been rather fond of Mark, and he prevailed upon her to come and officiate at the ceremony as his special gift to his bride. Delphine would have loved to have included the young king Darian in her wedding party as well, since they had always shared a special bond. But with his Coronation just hours away, and legitimate security concerns, his attendance was judged to be an unwise move. Delphine was disappointed, but made the sacrifice for everyone’s peace of mind. Tvrdik managed to wrangle Stewart an invitation, a gesture which thrilled the big dog almost into a frenzy. Tashroth, too, would be able to stand nearby on a clear stretch of lawn, and oversee the proceedings.

Jorelial Rey had at first been furious to learn that Tvrdik had divulged all of his secrets to her sister on the night of the Grand Council. But Delphine swore on everything she held dear that no one except Mark would hear a word from her lips, until Rel deemed it wise to reveal Tvrdik’s true identity in public, and the Lady Regent calmed down. In fact, it was a relief to have someone close to her know what was going on, someone she could talk to freely without keeping key points concealed. And she was delighted that Delphine had invited Tvrdik to be a part of her wedding ceremony. He had been privy, in his brief time there, to all the drama leading up to the occasion; it only seemed fair that he should also share in the happy conclusion.

After the Grand Council, Tvrdik had gone back to work on The Cottage, redoubling his efforts to get himself moved in by week’s end, as Mark’s family would be taking his rooms at the palace. On rainy days, he worked indoors: cleaning, scrubbing, arranging, and decorating the rooms in which he expected to be living and working. He took Lady Rey at her word, and revisited the market one day to order curtains, hangings, kitchen necessaries, and a new feather mattress for the bedroom (he had grown rather accustomed to the one in his palace chamber). He wasn’t by nature extravagant, but she had said he should be comfortable, and he realized he was outfitting this house for the foreseeable future. Two new soft chairs followed for the sitting room (as he would likely be entertaining visitors there), as well as a new chair for the library, and several throw rugs for the floor. Paint and brushes came back with him as well, and he set about making the bedroom and sitting room inviting. Stewart was there almost all the time now, keeping him company, and assisting where possible. The dog seemed to have decided he had a personal stake in this project. And, though no words were exchanged on the subject, Tvrdik would have been most happy to have Stewart just move in. Whenever the weather cleared, the mage spent his time outdoors in the garden attempting to salvage what useful vegetation still grew there. He weeded and dug and cut back and moved things until he was fairly sure the herb garden and some of the root crops would thrive. Anything else that was already flowering, he left alone for sheer delight. It was all exhausting physical labor, but he was accustomed to hard work, and tackled the challenges with fervor, buoyed by the prospect of settling into a place of his own.

Delphine came by one afternoon at midweek, and dragged him off to the market again to help her shop for wedding things. It turned out that she actually did want his help in selecting accessories, but that the main item on the agenda was fitting him for a new suit of clothing appropriate to his role in the ceremony. Tvrdik was a little squeamish about the cost of the fashions the young bride preferred, but in the end, he let her dress him, reasoning that for this one occasion, everything should be as close to perfect as possible in her eyes. They settled on a tailored, long silk jacket in a rich cobalt blue, with buttons of gold and gold-threaded embroidery across the breast and down the sleeves. Matching leggings and dyed soft boots completed the picture, which was, he had to admit, very complimentary to his frame and coloring. Delphine was having the time of her life, and was positively glowing, Tvrdik noticed. Her mood was contagious – she had him laughing and exchanging stories throughout the afternoon as if they had been friends for ages. She also took the time to explain in detail exactly what would be expected of him at the traditional joining ceremony in his capacity as surrogate father, and she walked him through the simple rituals involved.

Later that day, between rehearsals for the Coronation music, Mark joined them to help move all of the mage’s things into the freshly refurbished home, and Tvrdik invited the young couple and Stewart to stay for tea. What a delight to be able to actually offer hospitality to his new friends! They ended up staying into the evening in serious discussion of Xaarus’ plan for defending the kingdom against Lord Drogue, should things come to that. Mark revealed himself as a serious, principled young man who embraced the idea of bloodless, creative warfare right away. He contributed many good ideas of his own, and promised to work on enlisting the whole company of harpers as allies in the project as soon as the word was given.

After Mark and Delphine had finally departed for the palace on that warm, starry evening, Tvrdik stood at the gate and reflected that it had only been a few short weeks since his arrival as a stranger in rags, alone, unknown, and carrying a great burden. Already he was settling into his own home, dressing like royalty, spending happy times with good friends and sharing his burden with partners who were eager to help. He sighed and looked up at a clear night sky liberally sprinkled with bright, pulsing lights. Then the young mage closed his eyes, a prayer of gratitude overflowing his heart. Returning inside, he doused the lamps and retired for the first time to his own bed in Xaarus’ old bedroom, in the house he was slowly making his own. He slept peacefully, without dreams.

The next day was Friday, and with both ceremonies looming, Tvrdik decided to take a rare day for rest and regeneration. There was always more work to do, but most of it could wait now. What was essential for his simple needs was in place, and even beginning to seem cozy. Stewart excused himself to take care of some personal business. So, after fixing himself breakfast and cleaning up after, the young wizard found himself with time on his hands. He wandered into the library, which had been his master’s pride and joy, and let his eyes wander over all the titles at eye level. Many he recognized from his studies so long ago. A few were in foreign tongues, or had titles so long and technical that he mentally put them aside for another day. One volume stood out, catching his eye several times as he scanned the shelves. It was called,
The Qualities and Uses of Colored Vibrational Energy

a Comprehensive Guide
. Well, that sounded as dry as the rest, but it was as if some unseen hand was insisting that he notice that particular tome. So he pulled it out of its place, blew off the dust, and sat down in his new comfortable chair by the cold library hearth, adjusted his glasses and opened the front cover. The book was quite old, written by hand in a graceful looping script. Something about its feel drew him in instantly. Almost an afterthought, he flicked a finger and created a hovering glow right above his chair…though it was high morning the book-lined library walls did not allow for sufficient windows, and he had long ago learned a hard lesson about reading in dim light. He called for sweet tea to prepare and deliver itself to him where he sat, and settled into his study in earnest.

Several hours, chapters, and cups of tea later, he emerged from the ancient, fragile pages feeling like he had just stumbled into a great treasure trove of important information. But his brain was saturated and he needed a breath of air and a change of scenery. He unfolded stiff limbs from the chair, turned off his magical reading light, laid the book on the seat with care, and sent the tea things back to the kitchen to sort themselves out (there were indeed some perks to being even a novice wizard). Stewart had not returned, but the day remained bright and pleasant, fresh after all the rain. He let himself out, and peered down the road toward Theriole. But he could imagine how everyone in the palace would be overwhelmed with tasks and preparations for the events of the following day. There would be a great deal of bustling about and frantic activity in nearly every corner. He decided that he might be more in the way than helpful, and let his feet wander in the other direction, to the little secret sanctuary on the riverbank where he had liberated Ondine.

Warm in the bright sun after the exertion of walking, he took off his shirt and boots, folded them and placed them on a boulder. He sat down in his accustomed place on the sun-baked flat rock, his bare feet dangling in the cool, rushing waters. Dappled sunshine filtered through leafy branches, tracing shifting patterns on his chest and legs. He set his hands down on the bare rock behind, leaned back and turned his face, eyes closed, up to the shining sky. Sounds of all sorts tumbled into his ears: birdsong, insects buzzing very close, rustling leaves and creaking branches tossed by a breeze, rushing water in rhythmic flow. He loosed the reigns of his mind awhile, after having spent the morning in deep concentration, and allowed it to drift where it would. But today, it went nowhere in particular, choosing instead to revel in observation, in vacant openness. Tvrdik enjoyed staying busy, but now and then it felt good just to be alive and aware, present in the moment, immersed in nature, no past or future, no hopes or dreams or plans, no problems needing to be solved, no anxieties or fears, guilt or grief. Just sensory input and the leisure to enjoy it. He did not know how long he remained in that position, sun on his face and earth’s music in his ears, when another tune imposed itself on the subtle symphony – something familiar and pointed – a whistle, an awkward, charming melody. Tvrdik sat straight up, opened his eyes and blinked at the sight of a smiling blue face suspended only inches from his own. Then it vanished, plunged into the waters below, startling him with the usual shower of droplets and causing him to cry out in good-natured protest.

“Ondine, you wicked little imp! What am I going to do with you?” Laughing out loud, he shook the water from his arms and wiped his face. “It is always a delight to see you, dear friend. Come closer…I have the whole afternoon, and I would love to hear all about what you have been up to.” As they chatted, an idea dawned in his mind, one that seemed finer with each revisiting. “Ondine…” he interrupted a story she was telling, “How would you like to go to a wedding?”

Saturday dawned clear and fair, the horizon adorned in pink and orange streamers as the sun lifted its head over the rim of the world. It was a perfect backdrop for a wedding, Jorelial Rey thought, wondering if her sister had special cosmic contacts with the weather gods, as well as with all the merchants in the village who had offered so many complimentary items for the occasion. Delphine had a way of charming the trees to change color at her request. Well, she deserved a magical memory of this day, anyway, and Rel was happy that even nature was conspiring to contribute her most perfect arrangements. The Lady Regent, like all of the wedding party, had already been up for hours, bathing, dressing, adorning herself, and preparing for the ceremony and the rest of the day. It was going to be long and demanding, but the sweetness of its opening would hopefully set the tone for all that followed. The corner of garden Delphine had chosen was a meditation area almost entirely closed off by tall rhododendron bushes, just beginning to bloom. There was a circular cobblestone expanse, approached by paved walkways from east and west. In the center stood a large, ornate fountain surmounted with six stone swans, and curved benches all around the edges. Flower beds surrounded the cobbled area, scenting the air and delighting the eye with a profusion of color. For this occasion, petals had also been strewn over the stone walks and around the fountain, and delicate windchimes were hung in branches, adding their random, crystalline tones to the orchestra of birdsong at dawn, and the burbling rhythms of the fountain. Every sense was uplifted by something lovely served up by nature or craft. All was perfection.

BOOK: The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare
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