Green Rider (10 page)

Miss Bayberry dropped a cloth napkin on her lap. "F'ryan Coblebay couldn't join us though we did the proper thing and invited him. It seems he expends far too much energy when in contact with that which is earthly, and he wishes to reserve it for times when he's truly needed." She sniffed, indicating how she felt about that. "The Horse couldn't join us either. Letitia was resolute that she would not have him in the house. To help compensate, Rolph has been feeding him premium grain and the sweetest hay."

"As you can see," Miss Bunchberry said, "we've observed proper etiquette. Letitia wouldn't have us dine in the kitchen, though Bay and I normally sup there. What fun it is to see Mother's old table in use once again. From time to time, relatives or my father's old colleagues would descend upon Seven Chimneys. Letitia would cook and bake all day in anticipation. Those were grand times."

Goose and sauce were passed around, along with the last of the winter squash, legumes, mushrooms, and dressing. A slice of warm bread spread with creamy honey butter melted in Karigan's mouth. It was like a traditional Midwinter Feast, except it was spring. Miss Bayberry poured Rhovan red wine in each goblet and Karigan could only guess at the vintage.

It was like spending an evening with a pair of spinster aunts, eccentric as they were, but oozing comfort and a sense of home. The canny intensity Karigan had witnessed before seemed to dissipate as the evening wore on and the wine bottle made its rounds.

When they had eaten all they could, they removed to the parlor where glasses of brandy awaited them, and the fire roared in the hearth as cheerfully as ever. Karigan sank into the sofa with the hummingbirds carved on the armrests, her goblet in one hand, and she told tales of her mostly silly classmates and Selium. Bunch and Bay raised eyebrows upon learning that the hot springs could be pumped directly into a bathtub.

"It was so long ago that we lived in Selium," Miss Bayberry said. "I don't think half the school or museum buildings you described were there when we were. Otherwise, the city hasn't changed much." She swirled her brandy in her goblet and smiled in a self-satisfied way. "Child, you have enlivened this house more in one day than we have been able to in years. My sister and I will remember your visit for some time to come. I can only hope that you have found your stay with us equally interesting."

Karigan nodded emphatically. Interesting was an understatement.

"Miss Bunch tells me you spent the afternoon in the library. What did you think?"

"It was… unusual."

Miss Bayberry cast a severe glance at her sister. "Bunch, did you just leave her there? Did you explain nothing? Give no forewarning?"

"But Father's old things are so harmless—"

"That is not the point. We caused our guest undue surprise. That was not proper."

Miss Bunchberry gazed sulkily at her lap. "The moonstone lit at her touch." Her voice was nearly a whisper.

Miss Bayberry scrutinized Karigan anew, and something of that hidden intensity reignited—and it wasn't just the glow of the wine or brandy. "My dear child, that stone has shone no light for many a year. How you called upon the moonbeam to glow I can only wonder. Do you have any idea?"

Karigan shook her head, wary. "No. I—I was just curious about the objects on the table, and when I picked up the crystal, it lit up." She wondered if she had somehow offended Miss Bay, but the old woman's expression was glad.

"What else did you observe?"

Karigan described her experiences with the bottled ship and the harp. "They were very odd." She shuddered, remembering the tempest she had caused. "I mean, they possessed qualities that were so real. I know it's illusion…" Her statement was met with lingering silence. "It was illusion… wasn't it?"

Miss Bayberry leaned forward and, evading the question, asked, "What else did you observe?"

Karigan licked her lips, a little nervous now. "Well, the harp sounded so human, unlike the lap harps my friend Estral plays, and she has access to the finest instruments in all of Selium."

"My dear child, arcane objects are… unusual. Of course, when you first observed the things on my father's table, they seemed relatively normal. After handling them a bit, you discovered otherwise. The bottle, the moonstone, and the harp are a few among several devices Father collected over the years in order to comprehend magic. He discovered, like you, that arcane objects can take on some very lifelike qualities.

"That harp has a very dark history. It was originally made by the finest craftsmen at the turn of the First Age, for a wealthy aristocrat. It was carved as no other instruments of those times, and inlaid with precious jewels, themselves cut by masters of lost Kmaern for whom rocks and gems were living things.

"The aristocrat was pleased by what he saw, but not with what he heard. When strung, the instrument sounded like any other well-crafted harp. The aristocrat, it seems, could not live with a harp that was not extraordinary. Remember now, this was a dark time. Magic was more accessible and understood back then. Mornhavon the Black was at the height of his power, and dark magic had a profound influence on many people. It was difficult to wield any magic without the taint of the dark, so strong was Mornhavon."

Miss Bayberry paused to take a sip of brandy. She carefully replaced her goblet on the table before her, clasped her hands, and bent toward Karigan to resume her story. "It's not known if the aristocrat had innate powers himself, or if another did the work for him, but he had the finest singers known in the lands, including Eletians who have the fairest voices of all, brought to his keep. Using methods unknown today, he extracted the voices from the singers and melded them into magical strings. Child, what you heard were voices from centuries ago."

Karigan remembered, with clarity, the crystalline voices of the strings… strains of some ancient past forcibly carried into the future… like ghosts. "What happened to the singers?"

Miss Bayberry tilted her head, looking beyond Karigan, a sadness in her eyes. "There is no record, but you can believe that if they survived the process, they lived without that which they loved most—their ability to sing."

The more Karigan learned about magic, the less she liked it. It seemed to bring nothing but evil and grief. "The telescope—"

"Oh…" Miss Bunchberry groaned. "Not the telescope. I do think, my dear Bay, that we should remove the lenses and crush them beneath our heels."

"Nonsense, sister. That telescope was one of Father's most treasured pieces. Tell me, child, did you see far when you looked through the eyepiece?"

Karigan noted there was no question of whether or not she had gazed into it. "I saw very far. Too far." She described the series of images as they had appeared.

"A sprinkling of the past, present, and future," declared Miss Bayberry. "Such a device could erode one's sanity if one had constant access to it. Father possessed a tremendous will to resist using it when he had major decisions to make. Believe me, he felt the lure, but he also felt it was human temptation more than the device itself that called to him. Indeed, no one should see too much of their own history or future."

Miss Bayberry fixed her piercing blue eyes on Karigan. "Remember, child, your future isn't made of stone. What the telescope showed you was what may happen if the present line of events continue."

Put that way, it sounded to Karigan as if the current of her life was out of her control. It wasn't a welcome idea. "Do you look into the telescope?" The sisters seemed to know so much about everything.

"Heavens, no," Miss Bayberry said.

"We've no need," Miss Bunchberry added.

The ladies would say no more about the telescope or anything else in the library. Miss Bunch left the parlor briefly, and returned bearing a wooden game board and multicolored pieces. She set them on the table before them.

"Are you familiar with Intrigue, child?"

Karigan had recognized the game immediately—it was all the rage in Selium. Two kingdoms battled for dominance, each piece possessing a different ability. Arranging the pieces in various patterns created offenses or defenses.

The pieces, in this case, were made of ivory or bone, dyed in the traditional colors of red, green, and blue, and carved in the likenesses of kings, messengers, spies, soldiers, and so on. The game was most difficult when played as a Triad, with a third player who was random—the wild card with no set loyalties one way or the other. The other two players could petition the Triad for allegiance, but the Triad could choose not to take sides and play for its own benefit. It was the never knowing of what the Triad player would do that made Intrigue exciting.

Exciting, if you liked the game. Karigan didn't. She lost every time she played. "I've played Intrigue a few times, but not often with a Triad." Estral had been her only friend at Selium. There was never a third person to play with.

Miss Bunchberry clapped her hands. "Splendid! Bay and I haven't played with a Triad in a long time either. Child, you will be the Triad, and if this first game doesn't last long, we can switch."

Splendid
. Karigan remembered to smile, and because propriety was so important to the ladies, she said, "I'm honored."

"That's good. I offered to a guest first as was proper."

Miss Bayberry nodded in solemn agreement.

They played long into the night, each taking a turn as Triad. The gentle sisters transformed into ruthless opponents and Karigan found herself, as usual, on the defensive. Miss Bay took a general and three of her knights. Miss Bunch killed her queen and abducted a spy. She watched their pieces march across the star-shaped board and annihilate her kingdom, and she wondered, with a bemused expression, if she and Estral had been too kind to one another. The sisters did not spare an inch where Estral would have allowed a concession.

Karigan didn't consider herself a ruthless person. Rather, she considered herself wise to the ways of survival. The swordplay "tricks" the cargo master had taught her, the stories her father had told her of his perils and adventures as a merchant traveling in far-off lands, her experiences far away from home among aristocrats… these were basic learning experiences for life. She had never thought of employing ruthless tactics in a harmless game of Intrigue.

When the third and final round was won by Miss Bunchberry, the older woman sank back into the sofa with an ecstatic giggle. "That was just so fine. I could play endless games, but I know it's late." As if to accent her words, the last embers of the fire crashed in the fireplace, sending a flurry of sparks up the chimney.

Miss Bayberry's lips were set in a taut straight line. She had won two of the three victories, yet she seemed none too happy about it. "I think the child wasn't putting her all into the game. Perhaps she believed she was doing the polite thing by letting us win."