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North Point Mages' College
History Department

TO: Headmaster Neramo
FROM: Master Calyrio, College Historian

I have enclosed Master Thessalia von Ley's reply to my letter regarding a possible autobiography. To summarize: she has declined. Once you have read the letter, I believe you will agree that this is for the best. While a first-hand account of her creation of the new ley pattern and how she implemented it would be an invaluable historical document, it is clear that she would not be able to complete the project due to a complete lack of focus.

However, she does make an interesting suggestion in the final paragraph which I believe we should follow up on. We can discuss this idea more thoroughly after the staff meeting next week if you are interested.

(Enclosure)

Calyrio,

So you want me to write an autobiography? It's an intriguing idea, but it brings up one major problem. Specifically, where does this story begin? With my birth? That's the most popular starting point, but the problem with that is it denies the importance of events before I was born. What about my parents? They clearly had lives before I came along; should those lives be discounted just because they had an extraordinary child? Would I have been so extraordinary without my parents? Certainly not. Parents are the greatest influence on a child and mine were no different. I would not have become what I became if my parents hadn't provided the moral and educational foundations that I built upon for the rest of my life. (Or life so far as I am very obviously still alive.) No, my parents should not be discounted. Even after their deaths left me a stereotypical storybook orphan heroine, their influence remains. While we're on the topic of influence, my brother Gareth also had a huge impact on my life. Why not start with his story? He is, after all, the reason my family is Thornish since our parents left Paravon to keep their unborn child, my brother, away from the damaged node that was poisoning their village. If they hadn't done so, neither I nor Gareth would have been born. So does this story begin with their immigration? Does it begin with the reasons for that immigration?

And here is where we begin to pick up speed as we slide down the slope of first causes. For example: the poisoned node that sent the first wave of refugees to Thornland. Who poisoned it and why? Uncovering that answer leads us even further back into history. Specifically, the history of the troubled border region between Paravon and Esparol where my parents lived. Why was the border region so troubled? These days most people would say it's because Paravon is a majority Elven nation while Esparol is majority Human. But that answer is too glib. Humans and Elves can and have coexisted peacefully throughout history, as we Thorns well know. So why does that peaceful coexistence not exist in the southern countries? To find that answer we must delve deep into the political and religious history of the continent, tracing various conflicts back to their beginnings mostly came from the solutions to past conflicts which in turn were caused by conflicts even further back until we find ourselves at the original Cataclysm that created our world. And that is where we would leave history behind for pure speculation since all we know about the Cataclysm is that it happened and our world arose from the shattered pieces of the previous world. The Gods know all about it but they haven't deigned to share that information with us mortals and that, I can assure you based on my own experience with Divine knowledge, is clearly for the best.

Besides, I don't think you want this story to begin twenty thousand years ago. I imagine you are only interested in the last years of the Eleventh Era. But which years? When I was born in 1558? When my parents came north in 1543? Should it start in 1579 when I left the College to study with Master Dioneo? And speaking of Dioneo, what about starting this in 1564? That was when Vizkonig Thorin von Bergstad was murdered and his mother took over as Regent. That started off another chain of events in Bskrevstad that culminated with Nalisa's suicide and the sanctions against Master Dioneo and the Bskrevstad Mage Hall. If not for those sanctions, Dioneo would have had a fully staffed Hall and I would not have been given workroom duties as an apprentice. Without the practical knowledge I gained there I would not have had a complete ley pattern ready to go when the Source called me.

And while we're speaking of the Source, would it have called me in 1583 if the former Torenden Mage Gennarion had not divorced his wife Morena one hundred fifty years earlier in 1433? If their marriage had not failed, Morena would not have been able to devote herself to her dark path. The ley pattern might have lasted another century at least if she hadn't been working so hard to destroy it. So is that when this story should begin?

To sum up, as I am rapidly reaching the end of this piece of paper, I cannot write my autobiography because I already too distracted by all the different lines that created the pattern of my life. If I took on this task I would end up starting it twenty thousand years ago and no one would be able to see the overarching pattern except for myself and the Gods. If you find anyone brave enough and foolish enough to take on the task of telling my story, more power to you. Let me know how it turns out.

(Initialed)

(Th v L)

A light was shining in the window. Someone was still up. Hopefully not his mother; that was a conversation he wasn't ready for yet. He pushed the door open a crack and peered in. His thirteen-year-old sister Thessalia was sitting at the table reading. He tapped the door lightly to get her attention.

Gari? she mouthed so as not to wake their parents sleeping in the next room. He tilted his head to indicate she should come outside. She closed her book and followed him up the hill that was the roof of their dugout house.

“What's going on?” she asked as they sat next to each other on the ground.

"I need to talk to you, Thes. Something happened," he said.

"Did you get caught?"

"Kind of."

"Shit," she whispered. “So does that mean you're going on the run now?”

“No,” he said slowly. “Actually it turned out to be a good thing. I think I might have a solution to all of our financial problems.”

She gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let me tell you what happened from the beginning..."

^^^^
Two hours earlier

Gari crept around the corner of the stable. His fence was listening to one of the farmers complaining about his stupid horse who kept picking up stupid stones in its stupid hoof. Slowly and carefully Gari untied untied the coin pouch from the fence's belt and replaced it with a pouch of spinels from his own pocket. Silently he retreated into the shadows where he took a few minutes to tie up the coin pouch so it wouldn't jingle and slipped it into his boot top. Once that was done he stood up and walked casually towards the inn yard.

"You're very good at blending into the shadows."

Gari froze in place.

"Not so good at getting caught, though. You'll want to work on that." A hooded figure stepped away from the inn's back wall. Gari noted the figure's height (a little over six feet), its shoulders (broad), and the beard (blond) and guessed Human male. Not just any Human male, but one who looked so plain and ordinary he would fit in anywhere in Thornland, as Gari saw when the man pushed his hood back.

"I've been following that one"—the man jerked his head towards the stable corner where the fence was still standing—"for about six months now and I have to say that you two have one of the most discreet exchanges I've ever seen. Instead of leaving the goods and money in a drop spot you let him hold onto everything while you pick his pockets. It's a neat trick, but risky. But I suppose you two have a plan in place if someone sees you doing it, don't you?"

Gari remained still and silent, his eyes never leaving the man's face.

"The first time I saw you doing that I said to myself, there's someone I need to know. So I've made a point of watching you whenever I come to town. You've seen me plenty of times but you've never noticed me before, have you? I'm just an ordinary man, the kind nobody looks at twice." He chuckled. "That's my gift: being ordinary. I can blend in with a crowd the way you blend in with the shadows. That's a gift, too, you know. It's why I'm talking to you right now. I want to help you develop that gift."

Gari twisted his lips to the right to express his skepticism.

"You think I'm a thief, don't you? Well, sometimes I do dabble in the larcenous arts but that's not my primary profession. I'm actually a collector. My specialty is secrets. You like secrets, don't you? I've seen you going around town listening to people. Hearing what they say and what they don't say. Putting it all together to figure out the real story. You've peered through your share of windows, listened under your share of eaves. How long have you lived here?"

Gari remained silent for a moment before he answered. "Fifteen years."

"Fifteen years,” the man repeated. “And how old are you? Twenty-five?”

“Twenty-eight.”

The man nodded. “I was close. So to be as good as you are you must have started your sneaking-around career pretty soon after you moved here. Got to have something to do, right? Everyone needs a hobby. But by now it's getting kind of boring, isn't it? There aren't that many people here in this jumped-up village. By now you know all the skeletons in everyone's wardrobes by their first names by now, don't you?" He paused. "I know what you're thinking. 'What the hell is he going on about? Get to the point. Arrest me or whatever it is you're going to do.' All right, then I will.

Gari stiffened as the man moved closer. When they were next to each other, the man said, “I'm not going to arrest you, boy. I work for Sir Jorn* and I want to recruit you.”

"Who in the Light is Sir Jorn?"

"Someone who doesn't spend a lot of time in the light. He prefers to hide in the shadows the way you and I do. And, like you and I, he collects secrets. But he does it on a much wider scale. He collects secrets from all over Thornland. He also likes international secrets, from Kardansk and Esparol and all the other countries in the south. And when he gets them he picks out the most important ones, the ones that explain what's really going on in the world, and he reports them to the King.” The man dropped his voice to a whisper. "He's the Royal Spymaster."

Gari whispered back. "You want me to be a spy?"

"You were born to do this," the man replied. "I've been working for Sir Jorn for thirty-five years and I have never seen anyone who can disappear into the darkness the way you can. And that's just what you've learned on your own. Just imagine how far you can go with proper training."

It was tempting, Gari couldn't deny that. He loved sneaking around and Goldhill had long ago become boring. But then his conscience tugged at him. "I can't just pack up and leave,” he said. “I have responsibilities here. My family..."

"I know,” the man interrupted. “Your father is getting sicker and sicker. Now he can't work anymore. Your mother has to take care of him and keep up with her embroidery business, which is why your sister had to drop out of school last year to help her. You're a junior journeyman lapidary so you don't make much, which is why you started stealing 'cracked' stones from your employer and having your sister charge them so you can sell them on the black market. Even with all that you can barely afford the medicine your father needs.”

"Exactly," Gari said.

“What if you're caught? You would be fired, you would go to jail, and your family would lose your income. But if you come with me, not only would you be protected from prosecution but you would also be making a lot more money than you ever could in this little town. Sir Jorn pays generously, even while you're in training. You'd make enough money to be able to support your whole family by yourself. You could pay for your father's medicine, you could get someone to help your mother care for him or help her in her business so your sister could go back to school. You could even send her to the mages' preparatory school if you wanted.”

Gari's silence returned.

“You should, you know. She's good. A little fae able to charge stones the way she does with only a grammar-school education and a patched-together charger? She's as good at magic as you are at sneaking. She should go to prep school.” The man patted him on the shoulder. "I'm not asking for an immediate decision. I leave for Torenden City in three days. Meet me in the tavern at sunset day after tomorrow and let me know if you'll be going with me."

Gari had already made his decision. "What am I supposed to tell my family?"

The man smiled knowingly. "You're smart. You'll figure it out."

^^^^
Back at the house

"Wow," Thessalia said. “That's the chance of a lifetime.”

"Yeah," said Gari. "How could I refuse?"

"What are you going to tell Mum and Dad?"

"The truth."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I thought it all out on the way home. I'm pretty sure Dad already knows I've been stealing stones so I'm going to tell them I got caught and in order to keep out of jail I made a deal to go into government service. The wages I get for that service I'll send home to pay for Dad's care."

"And you think they're going to believe that?"

"Sure, why not?" Gari shrugged. "What's important is that this money will pay for everything we need. Mom can stop worrying...”

“She'll never stop worrying,” Thessalia interrupted.

He ignored her. “...we can afford Dad's medicine, and you, my thistly little sister, are going to get to go back to school. Which I know you want, so quit complaining.”

“I don't know,” she said. “It just sounds too good to be true.”

“It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. For both of us. I'm getting a chance to do something interesting and exciting and you get a chance to be a mage. So quit your bitching and let's go inside. I'm really tired and I want to go to bed now.”

After Gari went inside, Thessalia stayed on the roof staring at the sky for a long time. He was right. This was their chance to grab the dreams they thought they could never achieve. Up to this point, their luck kept turning in the wrong direction every time they thought it was going up, but something in the stars reassured her that this time luck was going to turn the right way.
________
*Pronounced “Yorn.” Thornish is a Germanic/Norse language.

I saw him hiding behind a tree. Dark trench coat with the collar pulled up, dark fedora pulled low over his face. He couldn't look more cliché if he tried. Or more anachronistic--this was 1862, for heaven's sake! No one would dress like him for over eighty years.

I, on the other hand, had made an effort to fit in with my surroundings. I had to. Women's roles were very restricted in this time and no one would be happy to find me in the midst of all this carnage. Well, maybe they would if I were washing bandages or cooking or something like that. Definitely not hauling bodies as I was doing. It wasn't a pleasant job. Or sanitary--I had more bodily fluids on me than in me--but it was something that needed to be done and I always liked to be useful even if I wasn't going to be around very long. Still, it was disgusting. I was almost grateful that the Shadow-Man had shown up when he did because that meant it was time to go.

I ducked behind a wagon full of dead soldiers and whispered the words. I was gone.

^^^^^^

My next location was only slightly better. Los Angeles in 1967 was a happening place, but the air was absolutely unbreathable. I spent most of my time in my huge apartment overlooking downtown. Or rather the dense gray-brown cloud that hung over downtown. I felt sorry for the people who couldn't leave this time. Their lungs must have been a nightmare. If they could all just jump ahead another ten or fifteen years...

Oh well, it could be worse. I could be back at Antietam. Or in San Francisco, 1989, another memorable bad jump.

At least the clothes in this time were nice. I could wash off all the grime and blood from earlier times and dive right into the latest fashions. Bright happy colors that lifted my spirits. In my yellow-and-orange dress I felt like a sunflower as I stood in front of the plate-glass window watching the traffic on the road below. I loved mid-twentieth-century cars: sporty little roadsters, huge land yachts, a long black limousine, a couple of box trucks making deliveries...and one lone pedestrian.

He was still too conspicuous. A pedestrian in Los Angeles? Please.

I said the words. I jumped again.

^^^^^^

He didn't find me again for six months. I guess he didn't expect me to make such a huge jump. Not only did I change centuries, but planets as well.

Mars Base Alpha was well established in 2146. The water and agricultural problems that had plagued the early settlers had been worked out and the colony was turning into a real city. A group of Tibetan Buddhists had even established a monastery there. Strange, I know, but Alpha had one of the best neurology schools in the solar system. The Buddhists worked with their researchers somehow; I wasn't sure of the specifics because I was just a lay sister. I still had nightmares about Antietam and a stubborn cough from Los Angeles, not to mention all the lingering traumas from the other times I had jumped to. Here I could rest, get myself back together physically and mentally, and contemplate the universe and my unusual place in it.

Then the Shadow-Man reappeared. This was obviously not my place. I jumped again.

^^^^^

It's really not a bad life. Jumping, I mean. I get to see the world in a way that no one else ever has. I feel like I can understand humanity better now. People never change. I don't mean that in a bad way, more like our basic needs and desires never change. All most of us want is just a safe and secure place for ourselves and our families.

That's all I want, too. That's why I keep jumping. I'm trying to find the place where the Shadow-Man cannot follow.

***********************************************************************************************
This has been an intersection with swirlsofblue. Intersecting post is here.

Shades of green dominate the mountain forest in summer. Light yellowish green in the new leaves, old tired green of conifers, dark olive shades in the mosses clinging to the rocks, true pure green in the feathery ferns, blue-green in the broad-leafed saplings reaching for the sun. Other colors are interspersed in cacophony of green, namely brown in the trunks, branches, and stems along with the rich loamy color of the earth and duff, with splashes of gray in the rocks. Despite the limited palette, it's one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Unfortunately for the wolf that was walking along the trail leading to the waterfalls, green is one of the colors that canines can't see. The forest may have been just shades of yellow and gray to him, but his sense of smell more than compensated for that lack. There was a riot of scents that rivaled the riot of green denied him in this form: the duff that covered the ground, a fallen log, new leaves and evergreen needles, hundreds of flowers, all the animals that scurried among the duff and treetops. His nose was so sensitive he could tell there were seventeen squirrels above him, an owl sleeping in the tree next to him, two rabbits under a nearby bush, and five mice in their burrow under a boulder.

Yes, this was the best place in the world. The wolf felt so good that he flopped down and rolled in the duff. Oooooooooohhhhhhh, that felt divine. To the cold hells with dignity, now he could finally scratch that unreachable spot on his back. He ruched around on the ground for a while before leaping back to his feet and shaking all the leaves out of his fur. Nothing like a good roll.

Life as a wolf was so much simpler than life as a human. Wolves didn't complicate their lives nearly as much as Humans (or Elves) did. Especially if those Humans or Elves were noble. Not that he regretted his rank. He had been a commoner before he was a Markgraf and the rank did make some things easier, like basic survival. But with that rank came responsibility piled upon responsibility, expectations piled upon expectations. He had worked hard over the last two decades at fulfilling those responsibilities and expectations but it still felt like an uphill climb. Especially when he had to take care of his mate at the same time. Not that she wasn't perfectly capable of caring for herself, but sometimes she lost her grip on reality and had to be guided back.

That was why they went into the woods every summer. Here they could get away from people and be themselves, the way they had been years ago when they first wandered the woods together. They were working then, as they were working now, but the location and the solitude made work a pleasure. Especially since it meant they could shed all the restrictions that bound them the rest of the year. As a wolf he could sense the harmonies of the Earth and find all the places that needed healing more easily, and here his mate could reveal her true powers to protect the ley pattern the way she was supposed to. She could enter every node in the forest if she wanted to and no one would be terrified; he could Shift to wolf and absorb all her magical charges without worrying that anyone would find out that he was her familiar. Hells, he could jump in the ley line with her and no one would care.

Speaking of, it was almost time to make camp for the night.

There was a good spot near a rocky part of the stream half a mile downstream from the falls and twenty feet away from a good-sized ley line. He pawed at the ground until the line rose to the surface and stepped inside its white glow. A moment later a tall, burly man with brown hair and a thick mustache stepped out of the line. He was completely naked.

Another benefit to being in the deep woods: he didn't have to make sure he Shifted where he stashed his clothes. He hadn't brought any with him anyway. His wife would bring them when she came through the line. Half an hour later he had cleared the leaves and rocks from their campsite, marked the territory to keep any other predators away, brought in a pile of fir boughs to make a springy mattress under their bedrolls, and was enjoying a quick bath in the cold stream. Thistle was sitting on a rock watching him when he emerged from under the water.

"I don't know how you can stand that," she said.

He shook the water out of his hair. "Cold water's good for you. Wakes you up."

"It's midafternoon. If you're not awake by now, there's no hope for you."

He stepped out of the stream. "Maybe I'm giving you a chance to enjoy the view," he said.

"Oh I'm enjoying it, trust me," she replied, looking him up and down. "Here, have a towel. Your clothes are in that pack over there."

"Thanks." He dried off and laid the towel in a sunny spot on the boulder to dry. "There's a good fishing spot in that pool up near the falls, if you're interested."

"And how did you know I wanted fish tonight?" she laughed.

"I think I know you pretty well after twenty years, Thistle," Vik said. He tied the waistband of his pants and pulled out a shirt. "I also saw your poles lying on top of the packs."

"Good. Hand 'em over and let's get us some trout," she said.

And so began their annual vacation when they healed the land, the lines, and their minds.

It seemed like a good hiding place at first. She had a secure cave to hide her last surviving baby, and a supply of food and water nearby. The predator-smell wasn't so strong here. It was present as it was throughout the house, but not as prevalent up here as it was in the place below. She was finally safe.

Then the predator-smell suddenly got stronger.

She peeked out of the entrance of the nesting cave. The predator was sitting just outside, watching. It knew she was there. It knew she couldn't stay in her cave forever and it was prepared to wait until she came out.

She knew how to wait, too. And she did. But not forever. Her baby needed food.

Eventually the predator moved and she was able to dart out to gather a few crumbs. Just as she scurried back to her hiding spot...

"Oh HELL no!" a Loud Thing shouted. "Samantha, get in here!"

The predator ran back to its watching-place. The waiting game began again.

When the predator left to take a nap, she snuck out again for more food. Once again she was spotted. Another predator, one of the ones from Down Below, came in and chased her. She ran away from her nesting cave so the predator wouldn't find her baby and hid inside a crevice where she was safe. At least until the Loud Thing returned and opened up the crevice so Small Predator could get at her. She ran to a nearby cave while a roar went through the crevice. When it had gone she peeked out and saw both predators waiting for her.

She was trapped. She couldn't be trapped. Her baby needed her. She took a chance and raced across the scary open space to another hiding spot. The predators gathered around one corner while she crept across to another and darted back to her safe cave and her baby.

She hadn't gotten any food. They were hungry.

Then her luck changed. She found a new source of food very close to her hiding spot in a place the predators couldn't reach. A tray appeared holding three raisins embedded in a bed of peanut butter. She ate it all quickly and returned to nurse her baby.

Her luck only improved from there. Each time she ate the raisins and peanut butter, they reappeared on the tray. The predators still sat outside the cave watching, but they couldn't get to the food so she and her baby got fatter and sleeker.

Then one night she found the tray had changed slightly. The food had been propped up slightly so she could reach it more easily.

She ate the first raisin. She moved forward to tug the se

BANG



Dedicated to the mouse that invaded my kitchen two weeks ago. Some facts have been changed to fit the topic. Namely, the cats got the mouse before the trap did. Good kitties.

The trees held up their branches and prayed for rain. The leaves lay crisp and brown underneath. The ground was hard and dry. Inside a ring of stone, gray smoke rose from a pile of blackened sticks.

The wind blew a leaf blew onto a stick. A thin red-orange line circle appeared in the center and raced to the edges. The leaf turned into crackling black ash. The wind blew the ash out of the stone ring. The hot black flakes touched other dry brown leaves. The red-orange line appeared again and again. The red-orange line turned into a red-orange flame. The flame grew larger and consumed the dry leaves.

The trees held up their branches and prayed for rain. The leaves turned crisp and black underneath. The ground was hot and dry.

Buckets of water fell from the sky. Large yellow machines pushed the leaves off the ground. The flames raced around the breaks before they could be completed. The wind blew the flames faster and farther.

The trees held up their branches and prayed for rain. The flames licked up their bark reaching for the branches. The ground was smoldering.

More buckets of water fell. More breaks were cleared further away. The forest burned and turned black.

Clouds formed on the horizon, blue-gray and heavy. The wind blew the clouds over the forest. Rain fell from the clouds.

The trees held up their branches out of the thick smoke that rose from the ground. The leaves lay wet and black underneath. The ground was wet and steaming. The ring of stones lay empty.

The best part about living on the island was the constant sea breeze. It more than made up for the rickety shack they lived in with its pervasive dampness and sullen neighbors. The air here was always fresh, just like the ocean. No scents traveled on this wind once it had been purified by its journey over salt water. Renata had had enough of scented air.

Elana was building a “pebble house” next to the front step. She selected another stone from the pile she had collected from the beach that morning and fitted it into the wall. The “house,” really a hollow square, was almost finished. Renata spun another length of yarn as she watched her daughter. It was good to see her playing again. Elana hadn't liked living on the island at first. She had moped around the house, missing the lush foliage of the mainland for several weeks until the most sociable of the neighbors, Addi, had shown her the quartz he had collected from the beach. He took Elana beachcombing with him and helped her start her own collection of pretty stones. Unlike Addi, who charged his stones and gave them to everyone to power their magical devices, Elana played with hers, building things like pebble houses.

“That's a very nice house, dear,” Renata said as Elana fitted the last stone in place.

“I want to put a roof on it, but I don't have any big stones,” Elana said.

“Why don't you use some of the driftwood from the pile?” replied Renata.

Elana brightened. “That would be perfect!” she said and darted towards the wood pile.

Renata smiled indulgently at her daughter. Yes, this was perfect. The perfect place to raise her daughter free from all the expectations that growing up in a noble family would have burdened her with. Free from the father who never wanted her and only pursued them because he wanted revenge on her mother. Renata's lip curled with scorn as she remembered all those horrible accusations that he made, dragging her name through the mud, forcing the Liriens—her own family!—to disown her, sending his friends to hunt her down so they could take away the child she wanted and Truvio didn't. All that because she forced him to recognize that he was neglecting his primary duty as heir: to have an heir of his own. Well, he wouldn't have one now. Renata had done the unthinkable and exiled herself and her daughter to the Ice Isles with the other criminals and outlaws. No one would think that the lost Tuvendi heir would be here. No one could find them here.

Just as she finished the length of wool she was spinning, Elana came running back with her hands full of driftwood and seaweed. “Mother, look! I found some seaweed to make a garden for the play house!”

Renata's heart sank. The seaweed had been washed up on shore during the tide so it didn't have roots, but would playing with it trigger Elana's Earth magic? Was there a line or a node nearby? She would have to ask Addi, he used to be a mage. Either way, she would have to get those plants away from Elana quickly.

“I think the play house will be fine without a garden, honey. But I can use that seaweed to flavor tonight's stew. Here, let me have it.” She took the seaweed away from Elana, took it into the house, and threw it into the fireplace. When she came out her daughter was fitting the wood on top of the stone square.

“It's done!” Elana announced proudly.

“It's lovely,” Renata said, giving her a quick hug. As she did, she noticed that Elana's usual flowery odor was gone. Now she smelled like seaweed and salt. Sea breezes could purify everything.

The door to the Blue Rose Garden was slightly ajar so Nico put his keystone back in his pocket and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. Like his brothers and sisters, he had been conditioned from childhood never to leave the Blue Rose door open. The fact that Tru had was proof of how troubled he really was. It was completely understandable. The last two years had been hell for Tru. The first year was endless court cases. The first was to prove Elana's paternity and was the only one decided unequivocally in Tru's favor. The rape trial ended with the devastating verdict of "not proven." And then came the custody case which turned into a bitter, vindictive battle on both sides and ended only when the judge had enough and declared that they would share custody, each getting Elana six months out of the year. And then Renata decided that she was going to ignore the judge's ruling and kidnap Elana so the Tuvendis couldn't get her, prompting a yearlong search across western Thornland that seemed promising, but now.... Nico wasn't looking forward to delivering the bad news to his brother.

He walked slowly through the garden, partly out of necessity due to his lame hip, but also so he could enjoy the twilight. This was his favorite time to visit the blue roses. They changed with the light, from a sky blue to an almost indigo shade, and their perfume seemed richer. Only those privileged to be a Tuvendi, by blood or marriage, ever got to see the garden at this perfect time. Nico had tested that privilege once, decades ago, when he let a young mage walk with him through the garden at twilight, but since he ended up marrying that mage the taboo still held. He wanted to take the long way around to his cabbage rose on the far side of the garden, but he knew that putting off his task wouldn't make it any easier.

As Nico suspected, Tru was tending his own rose, a tea varietal. Nico watched him for a moment, leaning heavily on his cane. "Proving the old cliché that we all retreat to our roses when things get rough?" he teased.

"It's a cliché because it's the truth," Tru replied.

"That it is," Nico agreed.

Tru put down his gardening fork and sat on the wall of the waist-high raised bed. "So what rough time has brought you here, little brother?"

"Not rough times as much as rough news," said Nico.

"She's disappeared again, hasn't she?" Tru said, staring off into the distance.

"Yes."

Tru sighed and massaged his forehead. "I suspected she would. And now we've lost them for good." He dropped his hand, reached out to his rosebush, and ran his fingers up and down the closest branch. The thorns scratched him but he didn't seem to notice. "Do you realize Elana's fifth birthday was last week? She should have a rose by now. We all chose our own rose when we turned five." Tears sparkled in the corners of his eyes.

Nico absentmindedly traced the roses carved on the grip of his cane as he watched Tru. This was serious. Tru never cried, never worried about anything, at least not where people could see him. Not even his siblings. The fact that he was letting Nico see him tear up proved more than the open gate how much Renata was getting to him.

"She should have a rose," whispered Tru. "I was thinking as I was working out here that maybe I should take a cutting from mine. It would be appropriate, don't you think?"

"Yes," Nico said quietly.

Tru curled his hand tightly around the branch. "I'm tempted to do it now, but it's the wrong time of year." He twisted his wrist and snapped the branch off. "I don't care. This is my bush. It'll understand." He touched the wounded part of the bush, a faint glow surrounding his fingers as he healed it. The broken branch received a similar treatment before he stuck it in the ground.

"There," he said when he had finished. "Elana has a tea rose."

"I think she'll like it," replied Nico.

"So do I."

"And now that that's settled I can tell you the other part of my news," Nico said. "Thistle's coming here next week. She said she had another idea about how to search for Elana, but she didn't want to discuss it over the scry lines. It has something to do with the Earth God, though."

Tru just looked at the cutting and didn't say anything.

"Well," Nico insisted, "what do you think?"

"I think I have more confidence that we'll find Elana now," said Tru. "Elana's a Child of Earth like all Tuvendis. And now that she has a blue rose, she's bonded to us in a way that Renata can never sever."

"Hurry, Elana. We need to leave right now."

"But it's still dark out, Mother."

"I know. We have a long journey ahead of us so the sooner we get started, the better."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe where we can live in peace," Renata said as she lifted her four-year-old daughter into the carriage. Once the door was shut, the driver clicked at the horses and they were off.

And that was how it began. They traveled around the countryside for almost a year, moving from town to town, never staying in the same place for more than a week. At first they stayed in nice houses much like the one they had left until the day Renata overheard something that frightened her. She snatched up Elana and they left the estate immediately. After that they only stayed at inns. Elana was never allowed to take her hood off until they were alone, and she could never come out of the bedroom until they were leaving the inn. Sometimes Renata would leave her alone all day while she met with various people. Then, right before the winter storms began, they moved into a small house deep in the forest. Renata said they would be safe there. For now.

In later years Elana would look back on that winter as the best time she ever had with her mother. They had so much fun together. On calm days they would go outside and play in the snow, and when it was storming they would stay inside and spin and weave. Mother had learned to spin long ago when she was Elana's age, but she had only recently learned how to weave on the big loom. "My parents always told me and my sisters that we should learn a craft," she told Elana. "Back then I thought it was just their way of keeping us busy during winter and the spring thaw, but it looks like these skills will come in handy."

"Why?" Elana asked. She tried to wind a length of newly-spun thread around her spindle and managed to get herself tangled in it. Renata laughed and untangled everything.

"We're going to have to work, dear. We don't have a lot of money left and none of our friends will lend me any more right now. So I'm going to take this thread you spin and weave cloth out of it and then some friends of Mother's will take it and sell it for us. Then we'll have money to live on next summer."

"Does that mean we're going to live here now?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm tired of traveling."

Renata laughed again (she never laughed so much later) and hugged her daughter. "Me too, dearest."

But they had to leave because of the glowing wolf. It came out of the woods one day while Elana was playing in the rhododendrons. She froze in place when she saw it but it just sat down and stared at her. She stared back. It twitched its ears at her, said "ruff," and stood back up. Elana thought it might come at her, but it just turned and walked back towards the edge of the woods where a stripe of white light had appeared. It stepped onto the stripe and vanished.

Renata nearly panicked when she heard what had happened. She knew what that wolf meant: the Tuvendis had enlisted the von Leys to find them. The friendship between the Tuvendis and the von Leys went back nearly thirty years, since the days when Markgrafin and Markgraf von Ley were just plain Thistle and Vik, since before Thistle redrew the ley pattern to keep the magic that was vital to the survival of the world from dissipating and became the Twelfth Source Mage. As Source Mage, Markgrafin von Ley had an intimate connection with the ley pattern she had created. She could feel everything that drew magic from the lines, from the invisible defensive walls that surrounded the major cities to the smallest quartz point...or a little girl who wasn't being careful with her inborn powers.

Thistle von Ley felt Elana invoking her Earth magic as she played in the garden and sent the wolf, her familiar, to pinpoint their location. And now the Tuvendis were going to come and take Elana away from Renata. Again. The courts would revoke the shared custody arrangement they had handed down after months of legal wrangling and Elana would go to the Tuvendis for good.

Renata took a deep breath to steady herself. Truvio would never get her daughter away from her. Bad enough that he had tried to humiliate her in court, making all those wild accusations. She had gotten one over on him once before when she agreed to "share" custody with him. He never even wanted a child, she had. Elana was hers.

But in order to keep her, she was going to have to take drastic measures. They were going to have to go somewhere where Elana couldn't use her Earth magic so that bitch of a Thistle wouldn't be able to find her.

They would have to go to the Ice Isles with the other outlaws and exiles. Nothing grew there. It was the only place Renata knew they would be safe.

Truvio sat at his desk writing out a list of pros and cons. He always did this whenever he had a particularly knotty problem to unravel. It helped him collect and sort through his thoughts, put them down in one place so he could properly analyze the situation. Perhaps he should have done this months ago when he first recognized the seriousness of this problem, but he had hoped (foolishly) that he could avoid it. Now he knew he couldn't. Hence the list.

He wouldn't be sitting up late writing the list if his older sister, Lessandra, hadn't just told him a few hours ago that she was going to divorce her wife, Renata. They hadn't been getting along for quite a while now, and Lessandra had finally admitted that their problems were irreconcilable. She was going to speak to their father the next morning and set the process in motion. Truvio had been expecting that. He had noticed the tension in his sister's marriage for several years now. He had hoped that when Renata had a child that it would bring them back together, but it only increased the strain until the relationship had, unsurprisingly, broken. What did surprise him was how he felt when Lessandra told him that Renata was going to get full custody of her daughter, Elana. He felt like he had just been punched in the gut.

How can she take my daughter away from me?

Stupid question; he knew Renata was capable of anything. This was the same fae* who drugged his tea and then violated him repeatedly for three months after he refused her advances. He had never been interested in sex and she had forced it upon him. He had never wanted a child of his own and now he had one. And now that he was in danger of losing his daughter, he discovered that he desperately wanted to keep her.

But in order to to that he would have to prove he was Elana's father, and to do that he would have to admit what Renata did to him. In court. In front of the Gods and everyone. He wasn't sure if he could do it. It would bring scandal upon the family and shame upon him. No, that was stupid. Renata's actions reflected back upon herself. He was the victim. And he wanted revenge.

But in order to get that revenge he would have to recount those horrible nights when he thought he was dreaming while Renata...he shook his head, unwilling to remember the details of those “nightmares.” Gods, if he couldn't even think of that when he was alone, how would he be able to do it for a judge? Besides, how could he prove that Renata had drugged him? The adulterated tea was long gone, thrown into the compost over a year ago. Without that he had nothing to back up his accusations.

Unless the servants were willing to testify. Servants saw everything that went on in the house. They would have noticed his strange exhaustion last year, the aftereffects from the drug that he was unconsciously ingesting. The laundry staff would have noticed strange stains on his sheets and towels from Renata's...visits. He stopped writing and stared at the list. He didn't like the idea that other people knew about his...why did he keep thinking the word “shame”? It wasn't shame. Shame implied that this situation was all about him and it wasn't. It was about Renata and her insistence on having a “real” Tuvendi child.

It was about Elana.

Truvio straightened in his chair. Of course. That was it. This was about Elana. She was just a toddler. She had no say in her future. That was up to her mother and father. And in order for him to have a say, he would have to prove paternity. It shouldn't be too difficult to do so. Elana was already showing signs of being a real Tuvendi. She always wanted to be outside in the garden, and if there was a plant anywhere near her she would rather play with it than with her toys. And she never tore leaves or stems off as other children would. Elana would babble to the plants in baby talk as she patted their leaves or batted gently at the flowers. Not to mention, her eyes were already turning purple. Only Tuvendis in the Jarl's immediate family had purple eyes—a relic of the ancestor who had first joined his magic to the soil and created the Earth Magic that set the Tuvendis apart from other Elves. The elf that Renata claimed was Elana's father was one of Truvio's second cousins with green eyes and only a trace of the Earth magic. Not enough to turn Elana's eyes purple.

But even if it were easy for him to prove he was her father, was it the best decision? He knew how possessive Renata was. She barely let Lessandra see Elana, which was one reason for the divorce. If he let Renata take Elana without a fight, then the divorce case would be simple and straightforward. The marriage would be dissolved and that would be that. But if he decided to stand up and claim paternity, the divorce would turn into a custody battle that would inevitably become unpleasant, to put it mildly. Not to mention that the news sheets would have a field day with all the salacious details.

If he faced the humiliation, he would have a chance at taking away the one thing Renata wanted most in the world: her daughter. If he got custody of Elana, he would have his revenge on her mother.

But if Truvio acted on his desire for revenge, would that make him any better than Renata?

This is about Elana, he reminded himself. What's best for her?

*Vocabulary note: fae is a female Elf.