A Dagger of the Mind (The Imperial Metals) (11 page)

Chapter
17: Things to Talk About When Dining with the Count

Twenty
Years Ago...

When Landos told Michael that he would have to stand for a family portrait, Michael was surprised to learn that there was a family portrait.

“It’s the portrait your father commissioned,” Landos explained.

“I’m sorry?” Michael was still confused.

“It’s one of those big, family portraits.”

“A Fenrow?”

“That’s the fellow’s name,” Landos said. “The one who’s painting it, I mean, Sir.”

Fenrow had made a name for himself in recent years, going from Castle to Castle and painting family portraits. There was a sort of stylistic collage quality to them. An impressionistic flair. Each member of the family would pose separately, and a soft fog would surround the person, so that they could blend into the person beside them. It wasn’t particularly pretty. It was just in vogue.

So Michael decided he wanted a look at this thing. Landos gave him directions down into the cellar, where he found the incomplete painting. His father and mother in the center. His two younger sisters, though they had died almost five years ago, standing beneath them. There was Lord Vye and his children. Lord Rutherford and his two sons. A few of the higher ranking servants made their way into the periphery with softer tones.

There was a gap in the center of the painting, where it was clear Michael was expected to stand. He would be the finishing touch. It looked awkward to him. Everyone standing there, unaware of who was standing next to him.

“Why would anyone want to paint all those ugly faces?” someone said behind Michael.

“Flopson,” Michael said over his shoulder, “You should be careful not to speak too loudly. Some people might take offense.”

“Only the ugly ones though, right?” Flopson retorted.

“Have you been getting yourself into trouble again, Flopson?”

“I’ve been getting out of as much trouble as I’ve been getting into.”

“Excellent. To what do I owe this visit?”

“It is time for dinner now.”

“And my parents sent you?”

Flopson burst into a wide-eyed, incredible laugh.

“Them…send me…”

And then his words lost coherency, as he laughed even harder.

“I see.”

Flopson’s laugh came to an unnatural halt.

“No, they didn’t send me. But I overhear things from time to time.”

“More than you’d care to admit.”

Flopson took out some balls and started juggling.

“Flopson, can you find something for me?”

“It’s a lost cause,” Flopson said, “My mind is gone forever.”

“Very funny. But can you be serious?”

“I can’t be Serious. I’m Flopson.”

“I need you to find my old saddle.”

“Can do, stinky.”

“That’s Master Stinky to you, Flopson.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Find my old saddle. Bring it to Kern. Have him clean and oil it, break it in again.”

“Perhaps you’re distracted by your own malodorous self: You have a new saddle.”

“This isn’t for me,” Michael said, “It’s a gift.”

“Might I suggest a gift you could give everyone.”

“Were you going to suggest a bath?”

“I was going to suggest you throw yourself out the tower windows, but a bath would be a good start.”

“Anyway, I’m going to dinner. Please find the saddle.”

“Yes, Master Stinky.”

“See, you’re learning,” Michael said, as he exited.

When
he arrived in the Dining Hall, the usual company was present. His father, his mother, Lord Vye, Gabriel, and the High Lieutenant, a man named
Harold Rutherford
.
Harold was not good at his job, but he needed a job, and Hartstone needed a High Lieutenant, so the two sort of fell into each other.

“Vye,” Michael’s father said, “I hear your daughter is becoming quite the feisty fighter.”

“She will learn her place soon enough,” Lord Vye said. “She just has too many brothers.”

“I hear she walloped my nephew Harold in a fencing competition last month,” Harold said with a smirk.

“Come now,” Alexander said, “My father could beat that Harold Rutherford, and he’s been dead ten years.”

“It’s not just him, though,” Lord Vye said, sounding concerned, but secretly proud, “She beat Gareth in a best of seven match.”

“Four to three?” Alexander asked.

“Four-nil,” Vye answered.

Michael put down his spoon at this. Gareth Vye was the oldest and strongest boy of his generation. When Michael was growing up, Gareth always stood six inches over everyone, and was always the one to beat in wrestling, stone-throwing, foot races, and, of course, fencing. That his younger sister was able to blank him in a best of seven was astounding.

“You’ll have to get Gareth back with the trainers,” Alexander said. “Can’t let the boy slip up like that.”

But Michael felt his father had missed the point. Gareth was good. But his sister, Julia, if Michael could remember correctly, must have been better. And she was five years his junior, and unless things had changed drastically since last he saw her, Gareth probably still had a forty pounds on her. The point wasn’t Gareth losing, it was Julia Vye winning.

“I’ve already made him spend an extra three hours a week on his fencing. The tournament is coming up this fall, and I want him to place.”

“You should enter your girl,” Harold said, which he followed with a hearty laugh. Michael’s parents followed, and even Lord Vye grinned. But Michael and Gabriel remained silent, exchanging a glance. Let them have their laugh. Michael decided he was going to keep an eye out for Julia Vye.

“In all seriousness, though,” Alexander said, “You have to get that girl married. Put a baby in her belly, that’ll calm her down.”

“I think I’ve found someone,” Vye said. “A Lord Kelliwick, from Arwall.”

“I’ve met Kelliwick,” Alexander said. “Pleasant fellow. Terrible at math.”

“Father,” he said, “I couldn’t help but notice there’s a little bit of space left in the Fenrow.”

“Perhaps a little, around the edges.”

“I was wondering if I could add someone.”

“Who did you have in mind, son?”

“Landos.”

“Is he the new Miller?”

“No, he’s one of the errand boys.”

Alexander and Harold both chuckled at this.

“Son, the painting is meant to be for the family and a few, very select, servants. People who have been with the family for years.”

“Landos has been working in the Castle since he was five.”

“Why do you think he should be included?”

“He works very hard to do the best he can.”

“Well, of course he works hard. He’s a servant. And of course he tries his best. He has the privilege of working for the Deliems. We are one of the ten Counts. Our family name goes back in this region to before Rone the Great.”

“Not like those pesky Vyes,” Harold said, laughing with his mouth full.

“Begging your pardon, Father, but he’s only eleven. I don’t think he knows of these things. I think he’s just very intelligent and resourceful.”

“Michael,” his mother said. “Servants aren’t intelligent or resourceful. They’re just people who do things around the Castle.”

“Your mother is right. We’ve included the Master of the Stables. And I think the Blacksmith and the Goldsmith. We’re not going to add an errand boy.”

“Yes, Father.”

Michael dismissed the argument, because he knew he couldn’t change their minds. But he knew his parents were leaving on a diplomatic mission in less than a week, and once they were gone, Fenrow would take orders from Michael. He would add Landos to the painting, and his parents would just have to live with it.

Chapter
18: The Dreamscape

Vye was still sipping her tea when Frost returned. In a strange way, she couldn’t tell how long he had been gone. Her tea was still hot, so it couldn’t have been that long. At the same time, it seemed as though she had been waiting for his return for hours.

Frost was carrying something in a bundle of cloth. He closed the door behind him and then rested the bundle of cloth on the rug.

“Vye, please, come have a seat with me here.”

Frost sat cross-legged on one side of the rug. He unwrapped the item in the cloth. It was a crystal ball, glinting in the firelight.

“Now, you still have a lot of questions, I know. I’m going to try to answer as many of them as I can, but it will be much easier if we employ some simple techniques. This crystal ball is just a focus. It doesn’t do anything on its own, but with our help, we’ll be able to explore the Dreamscape.”

“The what?”

“Just add it to your list of questions. It will all be clear soon. Lean closer to me.”

Vye did so. Frost once again placed his hands on her temples. She naturally closed her eyes.

“Just relax. This should be somewhat familiar to you. We’re exploring memories.”

“I’ve done this before. But we were trying to suppress someone’s memories. Are we doing the same now?”

“No. I’m trying to feed you memories. Just relax and it will be quite easy.”

“Feed me…”

“Open your eyes.”

Vye opened her eyes as Frost took his fingers off her temples. They were no longer in the comfortable hideaway, but overlooking a beautiful metropolis. They were standing on a small ledge that surrounded the highest floor of the highest tower.

Vye could tell immediately that this was a memory of some far off place. The architecture of the buildings was completely foreign to her. The entire city used some kind of rock in its buildings that gave it a yellow-gold color. The bustling marketplace, located about a kilometer from the Tower in which Vye was standing, was filled with people in strange garbs. Their skin tone and hair suggested that they were ethnically similar to Frost.

“Welcome to Logeross, the Golden City,” Frost said.

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“I’m not surprised. It is a long way from your home, and hasn’t existed in your lifetime.”

“Is this your memory? How old are you?”

“This is drawn from my memories, yes. But it is not from my point of view. We are observing the memory as though we were ghosts watching the scene. Not walking through it as I did.”

The top room of the Tower was empty except for cushions that circled the wall and a staircase carved into the stone in the center of the room. The wide open walls allowed the sun to shed its light across the open space, making the maize stones glow in a golden hue.

There was only one man in the room, dressed in a green silk robe, ornately designed with arcane symbols. His hood was pulled over his head as he sat on one of the cushions, head down, meditating.

“We are in the Allanha Se’Tai, which translates in your language roughly as the Tower of the Sun. This was the meeting place of an order of mages. Not to brag, but we were probably the most powerful mages ever assembled. We were the Order of Starfall.”

Another man emerged from the stairs. He also wore a silk robe, and it was also decorated with symbols, but unlike the meditating man, his robe was red. When Vye got a good look at his face, she was able to identify him.

“That’s you.”

“Yes,” Frost said, eerily standing next to his memory counterpart. “When I was younger.”

“Good morning,” the younger Frost said to the meditating man. The meditating man looked up and pulled down his hood and showed his face. Vye’s heart froze. She knew that face. It was a face that had haunted her nightmares for years. Even to this day, there was nothing that scared her more.

“Good morning,” Argos responded.

Vye moved closer to the seated mirage. It was definitely Argos, though he, too, seemed younger. His hair was a flowing light brown, instead of its later white. But his face was surprisingly unaltered. When he stood, he was still tall, even in this memory. He still towered over Vye, and both Frosts. Argos began a conversation with the younger Frost, while the elder Frost spoke to Vye.

“Yes,” he whispered, “This is the same Argos you would later kill. At this time, he is just a young man. He was a very good mage, but he was more ambitious than was generally the custom for our order. Ah, here come the others. Please, Vye, stand with me by this doorway and don’t move around too much.”

“I thought they can’t see us.”

“More or less,” Frost admitted. “But let’s not take any chances.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

But Frost only hushed her and pulled her to the outskirts of the room. It was filling up quickly as men and women rose up from the stairway. There were twenty-four members of the Order of Starfall, each sitting on a cushion that was color-coordinated with their robes. Each gown had different symbols, though there were many repeated characters. Vye recognized two other faces in the crowd.

“Wait, I know those two,” she said, pointing to the man in the gold robe, and the woman in the silver robe. The two who had attacked her in Hartstone.

“That’s Helios and Selene,” Frost whispered. “They are the two I am most afraid of here.”

“Why are we whispering?”

“Because I lied to you, just a little. We’re not in a memory. We’re in the Dreamscape. I am essentially projecting a dream into your mind, and you are experiencing it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The Dreamscape is the land you visit when you’re dreaming. Most people only experience it in small fits and starts each night, as they sleep. But control over magic gives you a more complete access to the Dreamscape. You learn that there is a sort of structure to it, and that you can move around in it, and experience it. We’re whispering because the Dreamscape is all the same. We don’t have individual dreams. We have overlapping dreams.”

“Shared dreams?”

“It’s never as clear cut as that. If you dream of another person, and that person is also dreaming, they will sense it. They will often have a dream with you. But the dreams could be completely different. If we share a dream of a memory, each of us will remember different details. See things in different ways. But when we can control our dreams, we can share memories, thoughts, ideas... You can be affected, in the real world, according to what happens in these dreams.”

“I’ve never heard of this before.”

“That’s because as far as I know, only five people in this world know how to manage Dreamscaping. If you can’t control the Dreamscape, you will just have normal dreams. Occasionally, a very strong dream will scare you, or remind you of someone who’s dead, or inspire you to do something. But most nights, we just have normal dreams, and we can’t even remember them when we wake.”

“So, these other people, if they happen to be dreaming now, they could become aware of you, because they’re in a dream of yours?”

“Exactly. Of the five people I mentioned, four of them are in this room. My younger self, of course, Argos, Helios, and Selene. I am the second best at it. The best at it is the one who isn’t here. But we’ll get to him later as well.”

“It seems there’s a lot to get to.”

“Bear with me for a moment. You see—”

Vye noticed Selene was looking in her direction. Not just in her direction, but making eye contact with her.

“Frost!” she called out, standing. This seemed to have no effect on anyone else in the memory, except for Helios.

“Vye, quickly, clear your mind!” Frost said, waving his hands in a wide arc. Magical energy flared from his open palms. Vye shut her eyes and cleared her mind, a trick she had learned long ago. Suddenly, all the noise of the room was gone, replaced by the gentle crackling of a fire. Vye opened her eyes. They were back in the safe room.

“They saw us,” Vye said, and while she hated to admit it, she could hear the terror in her own voice.

“Yes, but that was inev
itable. I had hoped to continue without interference from them, at least for a while. But Selene has gotten better at this than I remembered. We will have to watch out for her.”

“Can’t we just not include her in future visions?”

“No. We can’t exclude any of them. They are all important to the story.”

“The story where I’m the last character?” Vye asked.

“Yes. The story about why you had to die,” Frost answered.