A Message Delivered
A couple weeks after Karigan’s release from the menders, the Eletians finally came to see her. Or, at least six of them did. They found her in the Rider common room.
“Where is Enver?” she asked. “And Byrnin and Shoshan?”
“They left for Eletia after your return,” Telagioth said. “I am sure they wished to say farewell to you, Dama, but you were still in a precarious condition and it was not possible.”
She still experienced lapses of that “precarious condition,” finding herself staring at nothing and then coming back to herself with the vague sensation of having been falling, but thankfully she mostly felt herself.
She studied the Eletians before her, their faces lacking imperfection, their eyes glittering.
Despite the earnestness of Telagioth’s words, she sensed there was something he was not telling her.
“Is Enver all right?” She thought back to the ball. Recalling his words about her being his illness struck her with the sharp edge of a blade.
“Well enough,” Telagioth said.
Which suggested he was not entirely well, but before she could insist on a more adequate answer, Telagioth continued, “And alas, so must we follow them home to the Great Wood. It is time we took our leave to report to our king. We are satisfied that you are well, and that your king and queen understand and respect your kinship to the House of Santanara.”
“Oh,” she said. She didn’t know why she was so surprised. It wasn’t as if she had expected them to stay indefinitely.
“Fear not,” he replied, “our paths will soon meet again. But before we leave, may we speak for a while?”
Karigan gestured to the chairs around the table in invitation.
When everyone was seated, Telagioth said, “Your king has supplied us with details regarding your experiences after your disappearance the night of the ball. Please, can you tell us all you recall after the arrival of the wraith?” When she hesitated, he added, “We are aware of the greater power you serve, and the death of the god-being known as Salvistar.”
Ghost Kitty jumped onto the table and surveyed the Eletians, his tail slowly sweeping back and forth as if judging their worthiness. The Eletians appeared delighted by his appearance.
“These small felines are like gods themselves,” Lhean said with a grin.
“Yes,” Idris agreed. “He is affiliated with the dead, as is our Dama.”
“He was a tomb cat,” Karigan said. Or probably still was, sneaking into the royal tombs in search of rodents and to engage with tomb cat society.
He flopped in front of Cenna and all the Eletians exclaimed in wonder. Cenna did not look like she knew what to do with this grave honor so suddenly thrust upon her.
“He is allowing you to pet him,” Karigan said.
Cenna looked uncertain, but tentatively rubbed his cheek and behind his ears. He purred so loudly it resonated against the tabletop. The Eletians placed their palms on it to absorb the vibration.
“He is so soft,” Cenna said. “He is pleased to be properly venerated.”
Properly venerated, eh? Karigan thought. Apparently, she was falling short in worshipping her little god. That said, his purring comforted her as she told the Eletians of her encounter with the wraith, her memories of falling, and of encountering Shawdell.
The Eletians gasped at the last.
“It cannot be possible,” Lhean said. “He is gone from this world.”
“I thought he was, too,” Karigan said. “I was there in the end with him. I thought I had finished him.”
The Eletians fell silent, then murmured among themselves in Eltish.
“This is dismaying,” Telagioth continued. “You must not be beguiled by him.”
“No worries about that,” she said. “Do you have any ideas about how he survived, in whatever form he has survived in?”
“I do not,” Telagioth replied. “Eternal souls are not always the easiest to banish from existence. You fought him in what you call the white world and perhaps in that place he was able to continue. How, I cannot even begin to apprehend.”
“Wherever I was,” she said, “I lost your sword. Shawdell must have it still. I apologize.”
“It is only a sword, Dama. As long as you have survived, that is all that matters. As for the wraith, we have heard he has crossed into Blackveil at great cost to those who guard the breach.”
Karigan had heard this, as well, and was grateful Alton, Dale, Estral, and all the Riders on duty at the wall had not been involved in the battle.
“As for the rest of your experiences,” Telagioth said, “it is beyond our understanding.”
She stared at him and waited for more. He offered nothing.
“That’s all you are going to say?” she demanded.
“We have nothing to say that would illuminate your experience. We know whom you serve and that his steed was slain by the wraith. Beyond that, we are perplexed.”
Ghost Kitty thumped his tail on the table as if expressing Karigan’s own irritation, but what he wanted was more “veneration” from Cenna.
“So that’s it,” Karigan said.
“It is so,” Telagioth said. “We thank you for recounting your tale. Perhaps the wise among our people will have more insight. But now I must ask if you have any words you wish us to take to the king, your father?”
She had plenty of words for him, but it would not do to unload them on a messenger. She knew how awkward that could be from personal experience.
“Please send him my regards and tell him that I look forward to seeing him.” That was a neutral enough answer, she thought. Telagioth’s cerulean eyes sparked with amusement. At least, she thought it was amusement.
“It is our pleasure to do so.” The Eletians rose from their chairs, startling Ghost Kitty. Cenna gave him one last scritch under his chin. Telagioth then spoke to Karigan in Eltish, followed by, “May the light of Avrath shine upon you and lift you from the dark.”
“You, as well,” she replied.
Now his face broke out in a smile and he bowed, followed by the other five, and abruptly they turned and filed out of the common room.
They seemed to take all the light with them, leaving behind an unexpected melancholy at their departure.
She’d been adopted into the highest House of the Eletians and had spent more time among them than anyone else, but they remained as mysterious as ever.
Ghost Kitty jumped to the floor and curled up on the hearth rug to absorb the warmth of the fire, and seemingly ignored her existence. Clearly he, too, missed the Eletians, especially Cenna.
She stood and resolved to shake off any and all mysteries that plagued her life and do something solid and real. She decided to visit Condor.
· · ·
Karigan stepped out of the icy wind into Rider stables. She’d been trying to work her way back into her normal routine, and here at stables it was all very grounding with the sounds of content horses chewing on grain or drowsing. A few greeted her with nickers and she paused to pat them.
She spotted Darys in the aisle gazing at the floor. As she approached, he bent down to pick up a floppy red object.
“Hey, Dare,” she said, using the nickname Anna had given him. “What have you got there?”
His face paled and he trembled a bit when he looked at her. “My cap.” He held it pinched between his fingertips as though it were something disreputable. “It was here in the middle of the floor.”
“You’ll need it tonight,” she said. “It’s bitter out.”
“Aye,” he said. He turned and walked away holding the cap at arm’s length.
She did not understand his behavior. The cap had looked ordinary and not at all grungy for having lain on the floor. Nor did it look dangerous. An enchantment, perhaps, by evil cap mages? Condor nickered loudly for attention, and she put Darys and his cap out of her mind.
When she reached him, she threw her arms around his neck. So warm with his winter coat. He lipped at her pocket.
“All right, all right,” she said. “Don’t tell anyone...” She pulled out a peppermint candy, which he ground up with his teeth. When he was done, he nudged her for more. “Don’t get greedy now.” But how could she resist giving him the other in her pocket?
Afterward she stroked his neck and nose.
His eyelids slowly closed. His peacefulness in turn eased all her cares.
This was real, his breath, the whiskers about his nose and chin, the scents of hay and horse.
Everything she’d been through when she’d been falling through the heavens seemed far off, dreamlike.
Until the sensation of...Not so much as falling, but of shifting, the floor slipping beneath her feet and everything a blur around her. She grabbed the stall door to anchor herself, heart hammering in her chest.
“You know,” she told Condor, “F’ryan told me to—”
When the movement and blurring settled, she found herself standing in the very same spot in Rider stables and holding onto the stall door, but the scene before her had changed.
Garlands of spring flowers festooned the rafters and stalls.
The horses wore ribbons in their manes, and F’ryan and Estora danced in the aisle, carefree and laughing.
They swept about in the glow of lantern light with the horses and Riders watching on.
It was just as F’ryan had described to her, the ball the Riders had thrown for him and Estora.
I forgot, she thought in consternation.
Simple pipe, drum, and fiddle served as their orchestra playing a simple waltz.
One-two-three, one-two-three
She stood as an observer, but was unobserved.
No one seemed to see her, not even the horses.
F’ryan and Estora gazed at one another, the love between them obvious, almost like a light encapsulating them.
In that moment, they would not have known F’ryan’s life would be cut so short.
They would have been more than aware, however, that politics and the games of power would never allow them to be together. Karigan could relate.
However, in this one blissful moment as they danced, all they knew was one another and their love.
One-two-three, one-two-three