Chapter 19
Nineteen
Eberon’s Home
Schula took us down the winding lanes of the city as a misty fog rolled through it.
The smell of damp leaves burned into your nose, and smoke from chimneys drifted overhead, sprinkling hints of ash from above.
Schula had lent me a light coat and told me it was the heaviest piece of clothing anyone could need in the Autumn Lands.
I smiled into it. It smelled like her. Like standing on the top of a mountain, fresh snow and crisp air as far as you could see, and nothing else.
It was a wonder to live where I would never be hot in the summer or freeze with the snows.
Schula told me it rarely even frosted here, and the food that I’d fought to hoard in my cabin for winter grew bountifully here every day.
A twisting bridge of oak tree roots carried us to a long street of townhomes. Puko was content to stay on my shoulder as long as I kept feeding him the crumbs Mama Flori had given us. His weight was a comfort. Schula’s presence was a comfort. Hopefully seeing Eberon would also be a comfort.
“Eberon lives on this street?” I asked.
“His family does,” the white fae said. “His mother in particular is . . .” Schula swirled a hand in the air, grasping for a word and finally landing on, “Eccentric. But loyal to Baeleon since the beginning. I think you’ll learn a lot about Eb just by seeing how he lives.”
“Will he be mad at me too?” I wondered out loud.
“No, not Eb.” She held the warm loaf of cinnamon bread close to her. “You’ll see.”
The street wound around homes and yards. Fae of all kinds hurried about on business of their own. I was still trying to understand the buildings of Thanantholl, but from what I could see these were homes for the rich.
Around the bend, under an ancient chestnut tree, sat a fat house with dozens of windows and a garden of mums. Schula took us through the front gate and up to a bold red door.
“Puko, you might not like it here,” I told him. “Lots of people, and we’re out of breadcrumbs.”
He ruffled his feathers indignantly and took off. Schula knocked on the door, only to have it swing open as she was doing it.
“There you are, I was about to come drag you out of bed,” Eberon huffed. “Wren, it’s nice to see you. Come in, don’t mind the parlor. Mother is planning another party, and her friends are all helping.”
“You come pull me out of bed and I’ll freeze over your perfect hair.” Schula stuck her nose in the air and followed him inside.
“Clever,” he said flatly. “We can use the study, follow me.” The inside of the house was much like Thain’s.
The walls were covered in portraits, plush rugs coated the floors, and none of the walls were flat.
Everything held an organic shape matching the curve of the trees outside.
The tables in the hallway, the hearth in the parlor, even the paintings on the walls were made to go around curves.
Eberon took us a little way into his home and down a hall.
I saw the gaggle of women fussing in one of the rooms and was glad we were bypassing them.
I picked out Eberon’s mother right away.
Tall and golden, shining brightly with the same shock of red in her eyes as her son.
Her hair was nearly alive with fire, and she wore golden cuffs on her delicately pointed ears.
Another beauty in a land of wonder. I tugged at one of my earlobes and let my hand drop away.
The study Eberon took us to was small compared to the rest of the house, but still more than enough room for the three of us. A desk sat under a large window, and Eberon sat behind it. There were armchairs for Schula and me to sit in. The walls held shelves, and somehow more portraits.
“All right, I suppose you have things to say.” Eberon looked at Schula.
“I do. You need to help him control his temper or find releases for it.” Schula scowled. “He’s your damned triquetram, act like it.”
“That’s between me and Thain.” Eberon sniffed.
“You brought me into it when you invited me to be your third,” Schula hissed, baring her teeth. “And you brought Wren into this when she was made to feel attacked in what should have been her home.”
Eberon paled. “Wren was there for it?”
“What the Stars did you think this was about?” Schula glared.
“Wairen told me he lost his temper, they didn’t say . . .” Eberon cleared his throat. “They didn’t have time to explain in detail as Baeleon’s summons was urgent. I will address the problem, but right now we have more pressing matters.”
“What did the king send him out for?” Schula asked, her anger on pause.
“More worry about the wards. Galavan is dead.” Eberon rubbed his temples, propping his elbows on the desk. “That alone speaks volumes of the problems we have to deal with.”
The name sat at the edge of my mind, almost within reach. I’d heard it somewhere before.
“Dead?” Schula whispered. “How? He’s a thousand years old.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say his arrogance did him in, but I don’t know for sure. That’s what Thain is doing, looking into it.” Eberon grimaced.
The fight that Schula carried in her shoulders had left her. Rounding the desk, she rubbed a hand on Eberon’s shoulder, and he lifted his right hand to cover hers.
“He’ll be all right,” Schula said. “He’s Thain.”
“I know he will,” Eberon murmured, then huffed a sound of hollow amusement. “You’d think this would be easier by now. I wish Baeleon would send me with him, but—”
“But he’s Thain,” Schula finished. “The king calls, and Thain answers. I know.”
The moment suddenly felt so intimate, like I was looking through a window at another piece of this world that I knew too little about: what the bond between them was, the ways in which these lands put Thain to use, and where any of them stood before the king.
“The patrol from the Spring Court,” I said once I remembered the name. “Is that who we’re talking about?”
“Yes.” Eberon looked at me. “But it wasn’t the whole patrol, it was just Galavan.”
“What could have killed him?” Schula asked, dropping her hand from Eberon’s shoulder and crossing her arms.
“Whatever it was, we can only hope Thain finds and kills it.” Eberon sighed. “In the meantime, since we were the last patrol there before the incident, we will be going to the Spring Court.”
“Are we under some kind of suspicion?” Schula frowned.
“Stars, no.” Eberon snorted. “At least, no more than anyone else. But we’re to pay our condolences for His Majesty. He chose us because we were the last patrol to see Galavan alive, and because we already have business to travel the Wyldes.”
Two sets of eyes fixed on me. “Me? I’m going?”
“Yes, you.” Schula tilted her head. “Not bad, Baeleon, not bad. Send a reliable triquetram, or at least part of it, to show respect, and give the Spring Court the first chance to impress Wren.”
“Precisely,” Eberon said. “And if we happen to learn anything while we’re there . . .”
“Fair enough. When do we go?” Schula asked.
“Tomorrow or as early as possible.” Eberon pulled a sealed letter from his vest. “And we’re to deliver this, as well as use a hefty purse to arrange a gift when we get there. Something showy, befitting of our king, but otherwise left to our discretion.”
“Wren, I know you’re still settling into things, but are you up for a trip?” Schula squeezed my hand.
I took a deep breath. “Yes. I mean, I need to visit the other courts eventually, right?”
“Right,” Schula agreed.
“Thank you.” Eberon smiled from behind his desk, shoulders relaxing. “Aside from our somber business, you’ll enjoy the Spring Lands. King Diamid is quite jovial, and his court aims to please. Now, with that business out of the way, is that bread from Mama Flori?”
Schula laughed and placed the cinnamon bread on the desk. Eberon sent for tea and plates, and we discussed our travel plans. I still worried about Thain. I hoped whatever had killed Galavan didn’t come after him too. I didn’t want the last words between us to be an argument.
Not too far into the afternoon, our plans were decided. In the morning, we would leave Thanantholl behind.
I had never ridden in a carriage before.
Eberon tried to tell me it was nothing fancy, but to me every carriage was fancy.
In Sulls, carriages and horses were for rich merchants with guards that would yell at you to get out of the way.
But this wasn’t Sulls, this wasn’t even a human city, it was the Wyldes.
To be honest, walls between me and the watchful fae of the roads would be a blessing.
I was going to be ogled in the Spring Court; I didn’t doubt that.
But a rest from it before I got there would be refreshing.
The three of us were preparing to leave from Eberon’s home. The yard out back housed the horses and carriage we’d be taking through the Wyldes.
Schula spoke to the stablehand that held the reins of our horse.
A horse with a shiny black coat, bred by Eberon’s family for strength and endurance, apparently.
Puko sat on top of the carriage, keeping an eye on the new beast. Eberon set his travel bag in the carriage where I was already seated.
I remembered Thain telling me how he didn’t need to travel with anything, he just lived off the land.
When I asked Eberon about it, he sniffed and told me we were going to travel as dignitaries from another court, not animals in the woods.
We would need whatever items necessary to appear ready for society.
“Do you have enough clothes?” Eberon asked me.
“Yes, Schula brought me the rest of our order from Mistress Rhisa. I’m just traveling in my old clothes so my new things don’t get dirty.”
“Very good,” he said absently. It was clear his mind was on the mission. Whatever I had thought about Eberon, he was dutiful and thorough.
“Are we almost ready?” Schula stuck her head through the window.
“Is Boxfield hitched?” Eberon asked, and Schula nodded. “Then yes. I’ll drive the first stretch, why don’t you catch Wren up on the Spring Court.”
“Can do.” Schula reached overhead and lifted herself up into the carriage through the window rather than coming around to the side with the door. Eberon scowled, Schula laughed. The golden fae huffed and walked away, closing the door behind him.
“I’m a little nervous,” I told Schula once Eberon had settled on the driver’s bench.
“Were you nervous coming to Thanantholl?” she asked.
“I guess I was,” I admitted.
“And have you enjoyed it?”
“Yes.” I gave her a half grin. “I know I don’t really have anything to be nervous about, but all the staring and the whispers.”
“You’re going to be the center of attention for a while. On the bright side, I can introduce you to two fae even younger than you,” she said.
“Really?” I perked up, playing with the ends of my braids.
“You know we’ve had eleven children since the plague, right?” I nodded. “Two of those little miracles are twins. Not only twins, but the Spring Court king’s own grandchildren.”
“He must feel blessed.”
“Trust me, the whole court dotes on them. Two little mischief-makers, six years old, and they already know how to torment their poor tutor.” Schula cackled. “And they’ll most certainly outshine you after a couple days, once the news of you has made its rounds.”
“I don’t know what to do with children.” I hesitated. “It’s not like the village women would let a half fae play with their babies.”
“Oh, you don’t do anything with Alban and Arran; they do things with you.” Schula sat back as the carriage began moving. “On that note, check under your pillows for bugs or other tricks before bed each night. But the twins aside, I’ll tell you about the Spring Court if you like.”
“Yes, please.” I sat forward. “Tell me what I’m getting into.”
Schula hummed, amused. “The high city of the Spring Court is called Dwellonmar, and it isn’t in a valley but in the hills.
Not a flat road in the whole place, but I’m sure you can handle that, being from the mountains.
Remember, Eberon and I have the somber task of representing our court through the memorial, but your job is to be introduced to the Spring Court.
You’ll likely have a handler of some kind to show you around and attempt to charm you. ”
“Delightful.” I changed the subject. “What is a fae funeral like?”
“Short, as far as ceremonies go around here. The head of his family will say a few words over the body, which will be prepared for display with flowers and candles on an altar. Then other fae will be given the chance to walk up and see the body. Say any last words or leave a flower. Then we burn our dead. That’s it.
The real celebration of life will be the memorial feast.”
“We burn our dead in the mountains, but only because the ground is too hard to bury them most of the time,” I said.
“At the base of the mountains and in the plains, humans bury their dead and leave carved stones as a monument. Funerals are performed by local leaders, and they can take all day to sit through. Lots of crying, and speeches, and people talking.”
“Sounds like a bunch of fluff.” Schula snorted. “A service for the living rather than a goodbye for the dead.”
“I guess it is like that.” I watched out the carriage window.
“Did you get to hold a service for Bryn?” Schula asked softly.
“No.” I didn’t look at her, still ashamed that I’d been too afraid to see his body. “He was well loved, I’m sure the villagers did. Not that it would have mattered, as I wouldn’t have been welcome anyway.”
She squeezed my shoulder and left me alone. Schula could read me like an open book, and I would be forever thankful for that. We rode in silence for a long time, watching the leaves out the window and thinking.
The strange thing was that I wasn’t thinking of the Spring Court ahead of me, or even of Bryn. I was dwelling on Thain’s words. Even said in anger, maybe they were true. Maybe I had closed myself off from the very people I wanted to be a part of.