Chapter 6 Araphi #3
The voice went on, lecturing her at full volume about the sacredness of the warlock altar, Clauneck’s disappointment in her, and a dozen other complaints between while she gripped her head, trying to force the voice out.
At last, Yael grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the altar. They’d fled outside, hand in hand, and once they were deep in the garden, the voice finally had the last word.
I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Araphi Clauneck. Don’t disappoint me.
She collapsed into Yael’s arms, shaking and swearing to never seek out Clauneck again. Then they’d both hurried off to sneak some desserts away from the party.
Not long after that, her mother had unwittingly taught her how to block him out.
Brenna had no cause to know it herself, as she’d once explained that the family patron paid far less attention to in-laws such as herself and Yael’s mother, Menorath, than to his own descendants.
Though Brenna had dutifully appealed to him for warlock magic, her mother had been spoken to directly only once or twice since becoming a Clauneck.
But when next Araphi was unlucky enough to capture his attention during some childhood shenanigan or other, she’d begun humming a tune her mother had taught her, just to calm her nerves and concentrate on anything but her patron’s scathing words.
And suddenly, he wasn’t in her head anymore.
She’d thought at first that the song had chased him out; perhaps he simply didn’t care for music.
But she’d experimented over the years, carefully testing theories when he deigned to barge into her mind.
It was only the bardic songs that silenced him.
Maybe Clauneck, like much of the kingdom, had a low opinion of bard magic, fickle and frivolous and useless to him.
Or maybe he wasn’t as much of a match for it as he might pretend.
Araphi stands up from the bed and tightens the strings on her pack, wishing she was still below his notice.
“I will block you out,” she threatens, casting her gaze around for her lute.
You may be able to for a time, but you can never really get away from me or your family, no matter how far you ride from home.
He’s right. She does have to live all the years of her life with her family after this trip. But that doesn’t mean he can claim rights to her now.
“I have no intention of trying to get away. I’ll be gone only a few weeks, and I’ll make sure to leave you large and regular offerings when I return.”
Clauneck is silent as he seems to consider this, then declares, A little time without will give you a true sense of just how precious your family and my patronage are. We will speak when you inevitably call upon me in desperation. Until then, you’re quite on your own.
“Wonderful,” Araphi manages. She hums a tune and focuses on her mental wall against Clauneck, picturing the bar lines on sheet music, shored up note by note. Quiet settles in as the song works, and her patron departs.
It’s a wonderful feeling, and Araphi lets out a huge breath. At last, she’s bought herself a few weeks well and truly free of her family, and her prescribed role within it. She settles her heavy bag on her shoulders and heads into the city to meet Sage and the rest of the adventuring party.
She finds them waiting for her outside the Pearl and the Grit.
Sage stands next to Remy, who’s studying a map, and a short girl with long braids who’s carrying an enormous staff (clearly the party’s fighter).
A tall, golden-haired person wearing a tunic embroidered with pink fish grins at Araphi as she approaches.
Bottles and bandages hang from the saddlebags slung over their shoulder, so that must be the party’s healer.
A bit to the side of the group is an obvious scholar, balancing a pile of books on her horse’s saddle.
A pair of glasses rests precariously on the edge of her nose, and she doesn’t look up as Araphi approaches.
“You made it,” Sage says by way of greeting as Araphi stumbles toward the assembled party. Her bag is far too heavy, and she feels like a turtle hauling an oversized shell.
“I did,” Araphi says, returning Sage’s nod. “I got the supplies you recommended.”
“And a few more, it seems.” Sage’s damn dimple appears as she eyes Araphi’s pack, making Araphi’s knees even weaker.
Araphi touches the lemon-scented charm around her neck.
A new bronze acorn charm that she bought yesterday—absolutely essential and totally worth the (some might say exorbitant) cost, according to the shopkeeper—hangs next to it.
“I may have bought a few extra things…but you’ll be more than grateful I packed two blankets and extra socks for everyone when we head north. ”
“I’m sure we will. Now, shift it all into your saddlebags. I assume you know how to ride?” She nods to a lovely brown mare tied to a post, hired in case Araphi showed, she supposes.
“I do,” Araphi says, standing up even taller. She’s ridden a few horses around her parents’ farm and she took a lesson once when she was ten. That can’t be much different than riding a pack-laden mare through a tangle of wild roads, can it?
Surely not.
She has a very good feeling about this adventure.
In fact, she’s fairly certain that this is the party she’s been waiting for her entire life.
Perhaps it’ll even help her get Phi Runesong out of her system before she resumes her life as Araphi Clauneck, and all the dreary parties and boring days that entails.