Chapter Four The Benefits of Patronage #2
Snowball leaned closer, then moved up the branch before he knew what he was doing.
Every step was steady and balanced as any cat who hadn’t forgotten that he was a cat, and when Snowball touched his nose to Saeldian’s fingers, they grabbed the kitten by the scruff and said, “And elsewhere!” in Draconic.
In the next instant, they were both on the ground. Snowball writhed and scratched at Saeldian’s gloved hand. Saeldian let go, and Snowball raced off toward the main house.
“There,” Saeldian said. “Snowball is safe.”
Verity blinked at Saeldian. “How did you do that?”
“I tricked him,” they said. “If you can give him a bit of smoked fish, he’d appreciate it.”
Kell slowly clapped his hands. “Way to go, hero.”
“I don’t have time for you.” Saeldian rolled their eyes. “I have to rest. Will I be permitted to have a nap, O my warden?”
Kell looked to Jubilee. “I want the room across from their door. Do the floorboards creak?”
“Like an orchestra. But that room isn’t as nice as the others.”
“I camp outdoors,” Kell said. “It will be fine.”
“The sun is still falling and I haven’t rested,” Saeldian said. “Claim whatever room you want. There’s no time to lose. I’ll see you at dinner.”
They followed after the child and the kitten before Jubilee had the chance to keep asking questions.
Kell shaded his eyes and watched Saeldian disappear through a cheerful yellow door after a kitten and a four-year-old tiefling girl. Nothing about the last ten minutes made any sense. Saeldian had just rescued that kitten out of a tree to soothe a child.
And Saeldian apparently lived here, in this once-grand villa that had two tarpaulins stretched across different parts of the roof. None of this made sense, but that didn’t matter. Saeldian was no longer in his sight.
Jubilee hooked his elbow, stopping him from following. “Hold. Saeldian said they needed rest. There’s not much time until dinner. Let them be.”
“Saeldian only needs an hour to rest.”
“And then,” Jubilee explained patiently, “they’re going to build a complex illusion to dress like a wealthy Waterdhavian and speak to their patron. Who is an archfey, in case you’ve forgotten? Since we’re going to the Feywild, it’s a good idea to get some help from someone there. Leave them be.”
“Saeldian is attached to my chance to get home, and I’m not throwing that away because they need a nap.” Kell twisted his elbow out of Jubilee’s grasp. “I mean to sit outside whatever door they’re behind and wait. I won’t be noisy.”
“You will not disturb them,” Jubilee said. “You’re coming with me to fetch the eggs, and then we’re going to find out what needs doing after that.”
“That sounds like it would be fun,” Kell said, “but I can’t—”
“You can’t what? Give Saeldian a moment’s peace so they can be at their best tonight? Do you want us to fail?”
“I don’t want us to fail,” Kell said. “That’s my point.”
Jubilee squared herself directly before Kell. She was a good four inches taller than him even before counting her tall, spiraling horns, and she knew how to put menace in the step she took toward him. “It’s time for you to explain why you’re being such an ass.”
“That’s a long story,” Kell said, “and you just said we have to fetch the eggs.”
Jubilee didn’t seem to think that was funny. Neither did Lorzok, who had been listening to sparrows and robins. He glanced at Kell and said, “Saeldian feeds these birds.”
“What?”
“They scatter seed for them in the winter. They talk to them—the sparrows don’t know what they’re saying, but they hear the song of it. They keep the cats away while the seed is out.”
What was Lorzok on about? “Why are you telling me this?”
“You’ve had years to change, Kell. There was no way you could stay ungrown.” Lorzok’s tone was gentle. “Saeldian had the exact same number of years as you. Maybe you should consider that they have grown as well.”
“They didn’t betray you, Kell,” Jubilee said. “Saeldian already told me they had to go. That they left a note—I suppose you didn’t have time to read it.”
“Did they tell you they had poured their heart out on that page? Did you believe them?”
“They said that it was just a note, but they remembered exactly what it said ten years later.”
“A note.” Kell’s tone was so sharp, it could have cut the seed-heavy lawn. “That certainly makes everything better—”
Lorzok moved away. He laid his hand on the trunk of a cherry tree and busied himself with connecting to it.
“Lorzok?”
“Just curious about something,” Lorzok said. “Go on. I’m sure this argument is something you can win.”
Kell’s skin chilled as he realized he was being awful to Jubilee. “Sorry. Can I have a moment to think?”
“Come collect eggs while you do.”
Kell followed Jubilee and tried not to look back at his friend. Lorzok was giving Kell room to stop feeding the furious, spiteful person he used to be—the person he became again the moment he laid eyes on Saeldian Charmhand.
Sometimes, the only way to be free of your past was to return to it. Here was his past, and he was not free. He wasn’t the person he thought he’d become.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me.” Jubilee handed him a basket and unlatched a wire-covered gate. “Mind the black rooster.”
The black rooster laid one beady eye on Kell, and it was instant hate.
“Thanks for the tip.” He gave the bird a wide berth. “So! Your home is nice. Lots of character. And you keep chickens in the old—what is this building, a carriage house?”
“It used to be a laundry. We keep the goats in the old smithy,” Jubilee said. “And a couple of dogs and a colony of mousers. Lots of character is a kind way of saying we live in a heap.”
“I wouldn’t say heap. Did your family inherit it?”
“A grateful noble gave it to Dad, land and all.”
Kell understood. “Owning land in Waterdeep isn’t an easy thing to come by. And this land is titled, isn’t it?”
“Yes. On paper, we’re House Righthoof, though Dad won’t let anyone call him Lord Righthoof.”
That name was familiar. “But to be considered a House, you have to have a house.”
“That’s right. But it’ll never be a grand villa. We’ve got the orchards, and the old garden’s a vegetable patch—no tea parties hosted there anytime.”
The rooster danced, head low. Kell held his empty basket in front of him like a shield. “Try it, friend. I have an excellent recipe for stringy old birds.”
Jubilee laughed. “Be nice to Uther Blackcomb.”
“Tell him to be nice to me. So Saeldian lives here with you?”
“They’ve lived here three years,” Jubilee said. “It took them a while to accept.”
“I see.”
“What does that mean?” Jubilee asked.
Kell petted a hen, who let him reach under her for her warm, greenish-tinged eggs. “The Saeldian I knew wouldn’t do that.”
“Interesting. Does it change what you think?”
That was a trap. “I don’t know what to think yet.”
The rooster hackled up and rushed him.
“Whoa!” Kell pointed one finger and laughed theatrically. The rooster tripped, overcompensated, and crashed into a hen that chased him into a corner.
“Did you just hex my chicken?”
“No!” Kell said. “That’s for warlocks. It was just a cantrip.”
Jubilee laughed. “Come on, I’ll protect you.”
Lorzok and Verity rejoined them after they gathered eggs.
They took down washing from a line docked in the mouth of a roaring stone lion maned by clusters of grapes on one side and the pale green-coated downspout of the carriage house on the other.
Waxed cloth patched up a year’s wages’ worth of missing panes of glass in the windows, but every window had a garden box, and the glass-housed orange trees, carefully trained up the side of the sunniest wall, still survived.
“So owning this land makes your family one of the nobles, but your father doesn’t want to be noble?”
“He’ll accept the responsibilities, but he doesn’t like being bowed down to,” Jubilee explained. “And the place was something he could fix.”
“Your father likes to fix things, then?”
“He sees what things could become if someone cared enough,” Jubilee said. “But not necessarily how much it would really cost.”
That explained a lot. Kell managed to bite back the first thing he wanted to say. “Your father is a very kind man.”
“My father is a very wise man.”
Kell knew a parry when he heard it. “Indeed.”
Kell and Jubilee scattered dead flies for the trout living in the ornamental irrigation network that wound between the gardens that grew food and flowers side by side.
Jubilee cut young lily buds while they fed the fish, pulled weeds, and plucked herbs.
Kell and Lorzok carried baskets, and Verity guided them to a bright green kitchen door that opened with a squeaky greeting.
“Mum!” Jubilee said. “I brought a couple people home for dinner.”
The woman who answered to “Mum” had her back to the door. She glanced left and said, “Wisdom, can you go catch one more trout?”
A young man studying a book let his head fall back to stare at the heavy timbers that held up the kitchen’s roof.
His hair was as black as Jubilee’s, but his skin was lavender, like Jubilee’s mother’s.
He pushed a fine pair of silver-rimmed spectacles onto his nose and sighed.
“Ma, I’m reading about principles of conjuration magic. ”
The woman at the center counter laughed. “Oh, conjuration! That’s a fine reason to let guests go hungry.”
“Make it two more trout,” Jubilee said. “Mum, this is Kell Redsong and Lorzok the Seeker.”
“I took Lorzok to see the kitties,” Verity said. “He can talk to them! He told them all that they were good.”
“Lorzok is a champion at praising animals,” Kell said. “The best, really.”
Wisdom slipped a shiny silk ribbon into his book to mark his place. “Two more trout.” He let his clogs clomp on the slate floor as he stood. Saeldian had been right. Wisdom was taller than Kell but nearly Kell’s size—maybe a bit skinny, judging from the way his robes draped at the shoulder.
“Blackstaff Academy?” Kell said. “I know those robes. That’s a prestigious school. Are you good?”
“I’m the best in my year.”