Doom will come back with you!
One time, when Paithan had been small, a bee had flown into his ear. The frantic buzzing the creature made had nearly driven him wild until his mother had been able to extricate it. Like that bee, Zifnab’s prophecy had become trapped inside Paithan’s skull, repeating itself over and over, and there seemed little he could do to rid himself of it.
He tried shrugging it off, laughing. After all, the old man was leaky as a cracked gourd. But just when he had convinced himself, Paithan saw the wizard’s eyes-shrewd, knowing, and inexpressibly sad. It was the sadness that bothered Paithan, gave him a chill that his mother would have said came from someone standing on his grave. And that brought memories of his mother; Paithan also remembered that the old man had said that Mother wanted to see her children again.
The young elf felt a pang that was partly sweet, partly remorseful and uneasy. What if his father’s beliefs were true? What if Paithan could actually meet his mother after all these years? He gave a low whistle and shook his head.
“Sorry, Mama. Guess you wouldn’t be too pleased.”
His mother had wanted him to be educated, she’d wanted all her children educated. Elithenia had been a factory wizardess when Lenthan Quindiniar saw her and lost his heart to her. Reputedly one of the most beautiful women in Equilan, Elithenia hadn’t been at ease among the high born of the land; a feeling Lenthan had never been able to understand.
“Your dresses are finer, my dear. Your jewels are more costly. What do these lords and ladies have that ranks them higher than the Quindiniars? Tell me, and I’ll go out today and buy it!”
“What they have, you can’t buy,” his wife had told him with wistful sorrow.
“What is it?”
“They know things.”
And she had been determined that her children would know things.
To this end, she hired a governess to give her children schooling such as only the high born received. The children had proved a disappointment. Calandra, even at a young age, knew exactly what she wanted out of life and she took from the governess what she needed-the knowledge necessary to manipulate people and numbers. Paithan didn’t know what he wanted but he knew what he didn’t want-boring lessons. He escaped the governess when he could, dawdled his time away when he couldn’t. Aleatha, learning her powers early, smiled prettily, snuggled in the governess’s lap, and was never required to learn to do more than read and write.
After their mother had died, their father kept the governess on. It had been Calandra who let the woman go, to save money, and that was the end of their schooling.
“No, Mother won’t be pleased to see us, I’m afraid,” Paithan mused, feeling unaccountably guilty. Realizing what he’d been thinking, he laughed-somewhat shamefacedly-and shook his head. “I’ll be getting daft as poor Father if I don’t cut it out.”
To clear his mind and rid it of unwelcome memories, Paithan climbed up on the horns of the lead tyro and began to chat with the overseer-an elf of much sense and worldly experience. It wasn’t until sorrowtime that night, the first cycle following torrent’s hour, that Paithan would again think of Zifnab and the prophecy-and then only right before he fell asleep.
The journey to Estport, the ferry landing, was peaceful, without incident, and Paithan forgot the prophecy completely. The pleasure of traveling, the heady awareness of his freedom after the stifling atmosphere of home lifted the young elf’s spirits. After a few cycles on the road, he could laugh heartily at the old man and his crazy notions, and he regaled Quintin with tales of Zifnab during their rest breaks. When they finally arrived at the Kithni Gulf, Paithan could hardly believe it. The trip had seemed far too short.
The Kithni Gulf is a huge lake that forms the border between Thillia and Equilan, and here Paithan encountered his first delay. One of the ferries had broken down, leaving only one in operation. Caravans were lined up all along the moss shore, waiting to cross.