The Raven Ring (41 page)

“What will you do with it?” Daner asked. “It’s not big enough for a paperweight.”

Eleret stared at him, then smiled suddenly as the answer came to her. “I’ll have it set in something—a wristband, I think. There’s time before I head home, if you can recommend a good jewelsmith.”

Daner bowed. “I’ll be happy to, Freelady.”

“I believe that answers most of my immediate questions,” Weziral said, rising. “If I need to know more, I’ll talk to you in the morning.” He looked across at Karvonen. “You’ll be pleased to know that your healers think you’re well enough to move to the main room in another two days.”

“You’ve no notion,” Karvonen murmured. “Fare you well, Commander.”

Eleret spent the following day cleaning up the last of her business in Ciaron. Daner’s jewelsmith produced a striking wristband of twisted copper wire, with the lump of silver held firmly in a sort of cage, so that the visible part of the raven stone showed clearly. Afterward, she stopped to see Climeral, to ask about training Cilhar healers and to say farewell. On her way back to the Vallaniri household, she visited Karvonen, who was much better but very restless.

So she was not surprised next morning when a note arrived from Weziral, saying that Karvonen had disappeared during the night, and asking that she and Daner come to his office at their earliest convenience.

“I don’t know how he got out of the compound,” the Commander said, “but he seems to have done it. The night guards will be up for discipline.”

“Don’t be too hard on them,” Daner said, and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Karvonen is…something of a specialist when it comes to this kind of thing.”

“He left this, but I have no idea what it means.” The Commander pushed a scrap of paper toward Eleret. “Maybe you can make something of it.”

Eleret glanced at the scrap and smiled involuntarily. It was one of the symbols Cilhar drew on rocks or trees to mark changes in a trail or to let other Cilhar know which fork they had taken. This one meant, roughly,
I’m going this way, it’s safer.
“It’s Karvonen’s way of saying good-bye,” she said. “I don’t think he was…comfortable with so many soldiers around.”

“He could have said something.”

Daner snorted. “Karvonen? He could have, but he wouldn’t. It would make things too easy for everyone else.”

“If you say so.” The Commander still looked disgruntled.

Eleret laid the scrap of paper on Weziral’s desk and looked across at him. “While I’m here, Commander, I’d like to make my farewells in a more formal manner than Karvonen did.”

“You’re leaving soon, then?”

“Today, as soon as I pick up my kit at Daner’s. I said good-bye to Adept Climeral and the people at the school yesterday, but I wanted to thank you, too, for all your help.”

“You’re welcome, though most of it doesn’t seem to have been needed. Safe journey, Freelady.”

As they left the Commander’s office, Daner frowned at Eleret. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the Commander, but we can’t leave today. I’ve promised Father to look over the wards on one of the warehouses with him this afternoon. If you’d said something—”

Eleret sighed, knowing he was right. “I’m sorry. I
should
have said something earlier, but there never seemed to be a good time.”

“You don’t
have
to go home right away anymore, you know,” Daner said persuasively. “You could stay here for a week or two, and see more of Ciaron. Of course, if you really want to leave, I can be ready by tomorrow or the next day, but you should at least consider—”

“Daner.”

Daner stopped and gave her an inquiring look.

Eleret sighed again and shook her head. “You’re very kind, but I’ve seen as much of Ciaron as I want to see. And I’m not waiting until tomorrow, or the next day. I’m leaving this morning. I only stayed this long to make sure Karvonen was going to recover, and now that he has…Anyway, with Mobrellan dead I don’t need a wizard bodyguard any longer.”

“I was hoping you might think of some other reasons to bring me along…or to stay in Ciaron.”

In spite of herself, Eleret smiled. “No you weren’t, not really. Karvonen’s right; you’re just used to having your own way about everything.” She let the smile relax into nothing, and said seriously, “I don’t belong in Ciaron, Daner. Especially not in your part of it.”

“If Metriss and Raqueva have done something to make you uncomfortable—”

“It’s not your sisters, Daner. It’s the buildings and the smell and the crowds. It’s the clothes I’d have to wear if I stayed, and the manners I don’t know, and the things people fuss about that I don’t think are important. I don’t fit here.”

“I think I see.” Daner looked down, then said quietly, “I could still come with you to the mountains.”

Eleret shook her head. “You couldn’t stay; you have responsibilities. And you’d be as bad a fit there as I am here. We might as well admit it now, and save ourselves some time and trouble.”

Daner was silent for a moment—a long moment. Then his lips quirked. “Even though I’ve finally learned not to block your throwing lines?”

“There is that,” Eleret said, trying to keep her relief from showing. “I suppose that with another fifteen or twenty years of training—”

“All right!” Daner held his hands up in mock surrender, laughing. Then the laughter faded. “I understand. I think. You never do things the way I expect you to, you know.”

“That’s part of what I’m talking about.”

“I said I understood.” He looked down the street, as if he were studying the people and the buildings for the first time, then shook his head. “Ah, well. Nijole will probably tell me it’s good for me not to have exactly what I think I want all the time.”

“She’ll be right.”

Daner shook his head in mock sadness. “You two have the same attitude. You’ll forgive me if I say good-bye here? I’d rather not drag it out, and if I’m not going with you I may as well see if Nijole can give me a few more tips on checking ward spells before I have to demonstrate for my father this afternoon.”

Eleret agreed readily, pleased by Daner’s return to a good humor, though she suspected that he was more interested in avoiding his sisters’ questions than in reviewing magical procedures. She herself had little difficulty in collecting her kit and thanking her hostess, possibly because Daner’s mother was too polite to rack a guest.

As she turned away from the gate of the Vallaniri home, Eleret felt lighter. Her last obligation in Ciaron had been met, and she was free to go at last.
Like the raven in Climeral’s cards…
She started back toward the east side of Ciaron and the gate through which she had entered.

“Leaving already?” said Karvonen’s voice at her side.

“Shouldn’t I be?” Eleret said cheerfully. “I’ve done what I came for, and Pa and Nilly and Jiv can’t get on without me forever.”

“Families do tend to be very demanding,” Karvonen said. “Mine, for instance, has been demanding that I lie low for a while. Thieves are not supposed to get themselves quite so…noticed.”

“That’s what happens when you get mixed up with Cilhar and wizards.” Eleret gave him a sidelong look. “Of course, if you’ve changed your mind about Cilhar, the Mountains of Morravik are a good place to stay out of sight for a while.”

“Cilhar aren’t bad,” Karvonen said much too casually. “But I can’t say I’ve developed much of a fondness for wizards. So I think—”

“Daner’s not coming with me,” Eleret broke in bluntly.

“What?” Karvonen stopped walking, forcing Eleret to stop as well, and face him. “I thought… Did he change his mind, or is it his family?”

“Neither. I told him I didn’t need a wizard bodyguard any longer, so there’s no point in his making the trip.”

“No
point
?” Karvonen stared at her. “Eleret, he’s good-looking, he’s rich, and he’s noble-born. He’s intelligent, well-spoken, and he’s a reasonably skilled wizard. He’s
tall.
He’s a magician with a sword, which ought to appeal to your Cilhar sensibilities even if none of the rest does. And you say there’s no point in taking him back with you?”

“Are you finished? Because if you’re not, I recommend you find some nice Ciaronese girl to spout your nonsense at. I don’t need a lover who has to be taught not to block my throwing lines, who forgets to mention important things because he doesn’t think I’d be interested, and who’s surprised every time I turn out to be worth something in a fight. In Ciaron, I’m a fish trying to fly. Daner would be the same back home, so we decided the trip wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

“You decided. Both of you?”

“Well, I decided. But Daner agreed with me.”

“Ah.” Karvonen looked obscurely satisfied. “Well, I’m too short to block your throwing lines, and while I may be intentionally obscure, I don’t
forget
to mention important things. As for fights, I try to stay out of them as much as possible; you’re more than welcome to my share. Would you perhaps be willing to have me as a companion on your road home?”

“It would please me enormously,” Eleret said gravely, though a bubble of laughter was lodged in her chest, threatening to burst at any moment.

Karvonen let out his breath in a soundless whistle of relief, then grinned. “In that case, Freelady, the sooner we’re out of Ciaron, the happier I’ll be. May I suggest we turn here? The North Gate is only a few blocks down, if we cut through the alley…”

A Biography of Patricia C. Wrede

For more than twenty years, Patricia Collins Wrede (b. 1953) has expanded the boundaries of fantasy writing. Born in Chicago to a large, literary family, Wrede spent her childhood immersed in the Chronicles of Narnia, classic fairy tales, and L. Frank Baum’s Land of Oz—a foundation in imagined worlds that paved the way for her future career.

After receiving a degree in biology from Carleton College in 1974, Wrede completed an MBA at the University of Minnesota, and began working as a financial analyst in the late 1970s. In her spare time, Wrede wrote fantasy stories in the vein of the classic novels she read as a child. Her love of fantasy even fueled an interest in tabletop role-playing games: Lyra, the first gaming world that Wrede invented, was based on the unpublished work-in-progress that would become
Shadow
Magic. In 1980 she became a founding member of a group of Minneapolis-based, fantasy-fiction authors known as the Interstate Writers’ Workshop, or Scribblies, with whom she later worked on the critically acclaimed Liavek shared-world anthology series.

That same year, Wrede sold her first novel,
Shadow Magic
, which was published in 1982. It was the public debut of Lyra, a magical world shared by four races whose cultural differences see them constantly at odds. Wrede used Lyra as the setting for four more novels:
Daughter of Witches
(1984),
The Harp of Imach Thyssel
(1985),
Caught in Crystal
(1987), and
The Raven Ring
(1994). Wrede’s strong prose, sense of humor, and powerful female leads drew special attention to her early novels. Her quick success allowed her to begin writing fulltime.

Though the Lyra novels found popularity with audiences of all ages, Wrede aims her more recent work at young-adult readers, beginning with her four-book Enchanted Forest Chronicles, which follow the adventures of a young princess who becomes apprenticed to a dragon. Her other fantasy series include the Cecelia and Kate novels, cowritten with Caroline Stevermer and set in Regency England; the Mairelon books, which also take place in Regency England; and the Frontier Magic trilogy, based on Old West pioneers.

Wrede lives and works in Minnesota.

  Patricia Collins’s baby photo, taken around 1955 when the family lived in Maywood, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago.

  Patricia playing piano in her family’s living room in Hinsdale, Illinois (another Chicago suburb).