Well of the Damned

Chapter 13





After the noon meal, Gavin hunched over his desk in the downstairs library, skimming his copy of Laemyr Surraent’s encyclopedia. Though his nephews often teased him about moving his lips as he read, he didn’t let that embarrassment keep him from his task. No one was present to see him guide his eye across each line with his index finger as he scanned the pages.

He was looking for the word “rain,” hoping some mention of rain brought about by magic was mentioned. Edan had checked the first two-thirds, and Gavin picked up where he left off. So far, there was little to get excited about. Perhaps talking to King Arek was the best approach. He was startled by a knock on the door. “Come in.”

Quint entered with a bow, carrying a tray and a glass of red wine. He was a slender, clean-shaven man of average height, about forty years old, who tended to blend into the background. “I thought you might like a refreshment, sire. Would you care instead for water?”

“The wine is fine, thanks.”

Quint set the glass on the desk, bowed and started towards the door but stopped before opening it. “My liege, if I may have one moment of your time?”

Gavin looked back up at him, wondering at the worry lines wrinkling his attendant’s forehead. “O’course, Quint. What is it?”

“Sire, the rumor about Queen Feanna’s condition has spread quickly, and I wanted to assure you I neither started it nor repeated it. Whatever I accidentally overhear of your conversations with others are held in the strictest of confidence.”

Gavin did wonder whether Quint had helped to spread the news. “I’m glad to hear it. You have my leave to confirm the rumor if anyone comes to you to ask.”

Quint pressed his lips into a smile. “Thank you for understanding, sire. It pained me to think you might not trust me to keep your confidences.”

“There’s no one I’d rather have attending me.”

“Thank you, my liege. And may I offer my most hearty congratulations.” Quint bowed once more and started to close the door behind him.

“Wait,” Gavin said. “Would you find Daia and ask her to come see me?”

“Right away, sire.”

Gavin smiled at the closed door. He’d resisted the notion of having his own personal attendant at first, but Quint had proven invaluable for simple things like when to wear his formal jacket, which utensils and glasses to use at the dining table, and seeing that Gavin didn’t walk around with muck in his teeth after a meal.

A few minutes later, Daia opened the door and poked her head in. “Did you need me?”

“Yeh, come in. I want to try some magic I’ve never done before.”

“Of course.” She sat in a chair across from his desk, arranging the sword on her hip. “What magic?”

“If I can evaporate water, I might be able to save crops.”

She tapped her chin with one finger. “In a field? That’s an awful lot of water. Even if you manage to evaporate some standing water, that doesn’t solve the problem. It’s still raining. Fields will fill up again.”

“That’s no reason not to try.”

She nodded and gripped the arms of the chair. “I’m here to help you. Pull what you need from me. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

He’d never known anyone with the gift she had. She’d explained it to him shortly after they first met, while sitting in a tavern — she was a mystical conduit. Using her will, she could connect with and empower people, even without their knowledge, helping them to reach their highest potential. His first experience with it had been more than enlightening — it had taken him to what he could only describe as a different level of consciousness. He’d found himself on the floor, empty tankards and tipped furniture all around him, and tavern patrons staring in stunned silence. Since then, Gavin had learned to use her gift to help him with difficult tasks, and in fact, he couldn’t have defeated Ritol without her.

“Thanks.” He closed the encyclopaedia and went around the desk to sit beside her. Closing his eyes, he used his hidden eye to see her haze, clear blue with a yellow ring near the top. A swirling tendril of orange, the source of her gift, reached towards him from her abdomen. With his own haze, he grasped it.

He never failed to be astonished at how tapping into this conduit made him feel stronger, sharpened his hearing and vision, cleared his head and made his thoughts crisp and fast. Along with the gems in Aldras Gar, her power also honed his magic ability. It felt like drawing on everything within him — his past, his future, every bit of his strength and spirit and will — and focusing it on one task.

When he opened his eyes, he set his gaze upon the glass of wine on his desk and concentrated on watching the volume of liquid go down. Nothing happened.

“Are you heating it up?” Daia asked.

Heat. Right. He thought of his gaze as a flame shooting at the glass, like a fire breather at the fair. After a moment, the wine began to bubble, and a fine red vapor rose from its surface.

“It’s working,” Daia said.

The wine boiled for several minutes, and when the level of liquid in the goblet was visibly lower, he stopped, letting the bubbles dissipate.

Edan knocked twice and poked his head into the room. “May I interrupt?”

Gavin beckoned him in with a hand gesture. “If I’m not taking a shit or tumbling my wife, don’t bother asking, Edan. Just come in.”

“One doesn’t simply barge in on the king, Gav. Get used to it.” Edan entered carrying a rolled paper in his hand.

“I’m learning how to evaporate water. If I can dry the fields, maybe we can save the crops. Watch this.” He repeated his experiment, boiling the wine in the glass.

Edan nodded approvingly. “Well done, but perhaps you should consult the weather scientists.”

“Why bother? I can see there’s less wine in the glass now than when I started.”

“Well, notice the steam rises. What if the steam you create returns to the clouds, only to fall down again as rain?”

“Oh hell,” Gavin said, slumping into his chair.

Edan shrugged. “I’m just guessing. I’ve only studied two science texts in my entire life, so don’t be discouraged until you talk with the experts. The magic is worth practicing, even if you only use it to dry out your boots. While your heart is in the right place, you can’t very well boil the water in a field. That would kill the crops.”

“You’re just a ray o’sunshine, aren’t you?”

Edan grinned, patting Gavin’s shoulder. “Be of good cheer, Gav. I promised I’d be nothing but honest with you. You get what you ask for.”

“What do you have there?” Daia asked.

“Celónd has replied to your query.” Edan unrolled the message and scanned it. “He heard about two women spreading rumors that you aren’t the rightful king, that someone named Brodas Canton is.”

“We need to apprehend those women,” Daia said. “I’ll have our First Royal Guards and the city watch search Tern for her.”

“I don’t think we should bother,” Edan said. “The lordover writes that he, too, tried to find them and detain them for questioning, but they haven’t been heard from since the day of the coronation. It appears they’ve either stopped talking about it or left the city.”

“Well, we know they haven’t left the city,” Daia said.

“If Adro saw what he claims to have seen,” Edan said, “and if those two women were the Cantons. What do you want to do about it?”

Gavin put his head into his hands. What would a king do? At this moment, with the problems weighing on his shoulders, he didn’t feel kingly enough to answer that question.